 
# FAERY WORLDS - Six Complete Novels

Smashwords Edition Faery Worlds bundle copyright 2013. Individual books are fully copyrighted by their respective authors, and used with permission. No part of this ebook may be reproduced, copied, emailed or uploaded to or downloaded from a file sharing site. Help keep indie authors writing!

Faery Worlds Cover - Tara Maya

3-D book images - Lawson Dumbeck

FAERY WORLDS - Six Complete Novels

A stunning collection of the first books in six fan-favorite series by bestselling, award-winning fantasy authors! Discover the many worlds of Faerie in these novels filled with adventure, love, and - of course - Fae Magic.

(Best for readers 14 and up)

# TABLE OF CONTENTS

THE UNFINISHED SONG (Book One): INITIATE--TARA MAYA

Dindi longs to become a Tavaedi, one of the powerful warrior-dancers who secret magics are revealed only to those who pass a mysterious Initiation. The problem? No-one in Dindi's clan has ever passed the Test. But Dindi has a plan.

WAR OF THE FAE: BOOK 1 (THE CHANGELINGS) - ELLE CASEY

Jayne Sparks, a potty-mouthed, rebellious seventeen-year-old, and her best friend, shy and bookish Tony Green, have a typical high school existence - until, along with a group of runaway teens, they are hijacked and sent into a forest where nothing is as it seems. Who will emerge triumphant? And what will they be when they do?

FAIRY METAL THUNDER - JL BRYAN

A teenage garage band steals instruments from the fairy world and begins enchanting crowds, but their shortcut to success soon turns them into enemies of the treacherous Queen Mab.

FEYLAND: THE DARK REALM - ANTHEA SHARP

Faeries. Computer games. When realms collide, a hero from the wrong side of the tracks and the rich girl he's afraid to love must risk everything to defeat the dangerous fey.

_What if a high-tech computer game was a gateway to the perilous Realm of Faerie_...

FAELOREHN - JENNA ELIZABETH JOHNSON

Meghan has been strange her entire life: her eyes change color and she sees and hears things no one else can. When the visions get worse, she is convinced she has finally gone crazy. That is, until the mysterious Cade shows up with an explanation of his own.

EVER SHADE (A DARK FAERIE TALE #1) - ALEXIA PURDY

_A dark twist on faeries_. For Shade, a chance meeting with a powerful Teleen Faery warrior who wields electrical currents and blue fires along his skin, has her joining him on a treacherous mission for the good Seelie Faerie Court across the land of Faerie. Magic and malice abound and nothing is what it appears to be.

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

#

# INITIATE

The Unfinished Song, Book One

Tara Maya

copyright Misque Press, 2011

Chapter One

## Dance

#### Dindi

Dindi scanned the crowd, hoping to slip into the plaza unnoticed. Barter Hill swarmed with people because aunties from the three clans met here to trade every half-moon. A kraal at the bottom of the hill held aurochsen and horses. Interconnected rectangular adobe buildings created a square around the top of the rise. The old uncles, to suit their dignity, leaned against the wall on a log bench, under the shade of the eaves of the buildings, drinking corn beer, chatting amiably. They hid their thighs with waist blankets and caped themselves in shoulder blankets that reached the ground. Dindi slithered by them.

Unfortunately, the first person Dindi locked eyes with was Great Aunt Sullana. Though the whole plaza separated them, Great Aunt Sullana tore across the market like a tornado on the Purple Plains. She would demand to examine Dindi's basket, and finding nothing in it except a kitten, pinch her cheek until Dindi stuttered some explanation. The natural and obvious defense would be to lie, but frankly, Dindi had always been a terrible liar. Her whole face ripened like a tomato, her eyes slid this way and that, she couldn't convince a child honey was sweet never mind fool Great Aunt Sullana, who ate secrets for morning meal.

Evasion her only option, Dindi darted past a couple of elder women haggling over an exchange of vegetables for pottery. Married women, with their salt-and-pepper hair coiled in stacked rings atop their heads, sat with their wares on blankets arranged all around the dancing platform. Dindi wove a path around multifarious piles of tubers and bone awls, behind bunches of water gourds hung like grapes over racks of smoked venison. Aunties shouted and tried to call her attention to bargains by slapping her calves with horse-hair whisks.

Great Aunt Sullana changed course to track her. Dindi hopped behind a group of bare-chested warriors who mock-fought one another, to the annoyance of an auntie whose tower of baskets they upset. A gaggle of girls giggled at their antics. Great Aunt Sullana kept walking in the wrong direction. Dindi sighed in relief.

A slow drumbeat reverberated throughout the market square. The Tavaedies! No one could see the drum, but each beat shook the ground like earth tremors. Heads jerked up and eyes began to sparkle. Rattles and flutes supplemented the drumbeat. From a hole in the ground in a clear space just in front of the dancing platform, a line of masked dancers emerged. Each costume was slightly different, determined by the dancer's color of magic and the dance the troop performed that day. A large headdress and a matching mask of either cloth or paint disguised each face. Each Tavaedi wore a costume entirely dyed and painted in shades of one of the primordial six colors.

Dindi had never told anyone she aspired to become a Tavaedi. She wasn't interested in reaping snickers or commiseration. Besides, what did she care what the others thought of her? She knew how hard it was, but she had a plan.

Every head in the square was riveted on the Tavaedies. Drum, rattle, and flute flared into dramatic music. The masked men and women leaped into motion. Occasionally, to emphasize the moves, the dancers chanted or shouted as well.

Dancing wove magic. Some ritual dances, or _tama_ , ensured bounty, others averted drought. This _tama_ , Massacre of the Aelfae, recalled history. The Tavaedies only performed it once a year, and as a child, it had been her favorite--until she understood what it was really about.

Half the Tavaedies wore wings. "We are the Aelfae, we are the Aelfae," they chanted.

The other half of the dancers carried spears. "We are the humans, we are the humans."

The dance showed a clan of Aelfae, the high faery folk who had lived in the Corn Hills before humans came. High fae were not like low fae, pixies and brownies and sprites and such, but possessed grace and grandeur beyond anything human. In form they were as tall, or taller, than humans, although more beautiful, a strange, glowing people, with wings like swans. There had once been seven races of high fae, and of them all, the Aelfae had been the most beautiful and powerful and wise.

The fake Aelfae took the stage first. They flapped imitation wings. To pretend they were flying, they engaged in numerous acrobatic flips, handsprings, handless cartwheels, and somersaults over each others' backs. The fake Aelfae flitted about the platform until the "human" dancers with spears arrived.

She had to focus. She had to get this right, every move, every detail. She intended to teach herself everything she could from watching them, so when the time came they would invite her to join their secret society. She wasn't supposed to know, but she had eavesdropped on enough conversations to learn one secret about the Initiation. Each Initiate would be asked to dance a tama, and only those with magic would perform it correctly.

The two sides began to mock-fight. They punched and kicked and crossed spears, they threw one another and made dramatic vaults over one another's heads to attack from the rear. The humans began to slaughter the Aelfae. Maybe the dance exaggerated the humans' prowess, but the Aelfae fled, wailing, across the stage. None escaped the humans.

While they danced, Dindi reproduced tiny imitation movements with her hands and feet--nothing noticeable to anyone watching her--to help her commit the steps to memory so she could practice them on her own later. At first, when Dindi had started observing the dances with the object of learning them, she had missed most of the steps. Every moon, she noticed more.

Lately, as the Tavaedies danced, she had begun to see the most amazing thing. The interactions between the dancers were not random. They formed rows and columns, circles and chevrons, shaped arrangements of dancers. And these patterns glowed. It was as if the dancers created ribbons of living light by their movements, tracing out incandescent symbols with their bodies. The dancers themselves glowed too, in the same color as whichever costume they wore. Even now that Dindi knew what to look for, she couldn't see it all the time, only if she concentrated.

The human dancers encircled the last of the Aelfae dancers, who fell into an artful pile of corpses.

"The Aelfae are no more, the Aelfae are no more," victors and corpses droned in a mournful dirge.

The chant hit her with a wave of melancholy. The interlocking patterns of light the dancers had created rippled outward like disturbed water, and when the light hit her, vertigo robbed Dindi of her balance. She stumbled, nearly fell.

For a moment, instead of the Aelfae dancers, she saw beautiful beings with wings like swans, and instead of stylized flips and leaps, she witnessed atrocities she could barely comprehend. Aelfae men forced to eat their own intestines, Aelfae women with bloody thighs pinned down under grunting human males, Aelfae babes clutched by their tiny wings and smashed face-first into walls.... Underlying it all, she sensed not one battle, but decades of skirmish and ambush, truce and betrayal, wearing the Aelfae down, driving them to their final extinction, not just in the Corn Hills, but across all of Faearth.

She blinked, and the double vision cleared. Tears streaked her cheeks. It was not just a dance. Though the events reenacted had happened long ago, they were real. Her people had done this, wiped out the most beautiful and powerful faeries in the world, pushed them all to extinction save one. In all the world, except for the White Lady, who was the last of her kind, the Aelfae were no more.

On stage, the triumphant humans split into three groups. One carried a full basket, another a basket split into two halves, and a third a swan feather. They represented the three clans who now lived in the Corn Hills--the victors in the war with the Aelfae. That was the end of the dance. The Tavaedies formed a line and snaked back down into their hole, to their kiva beneath the square.

"Ooooh, look, it's the goose from Lost Swan," said a catty voice. Dindi whirled around.

Kemla and a few of her cousins stood there, young women from Full Basket clan who were always harassing Dindi.

"Crying because when Initiation comes, you won't be invited to become a Tavaedi like me?" Kemla taunted. She always wore as much scarlet as a non-Tavaedi could get away with, and had arranged cardinal feathers in her breast bands to show off her cleavage.

Hastily, Dindi wiped her face. "You don't know that."

"It'll never happen, goat-legs," snickered Kemla. "No one in your scraggly clan has ever been chosen as a Tavaedi. The closest Lost Swan clanholders come to dancing magic is to go mad and run off with the fae."

The Full Basket girls laughed. Dindi flushed.

"Goat-legs! Goat-legs!" The girls formed a circle and shoved Dindi back and forth, finally pushing her into the dust. They laughed and flounced away.

The dust tasted like dung. They were right. No one from Lost Swan Clan had ever passed the test given during the year children disappeared for Initiation rites. She could be taken for Initiation any day now, Dindi thought. And all omens indicated she'd fail miserably. Like her mother. And her grandmother. And every single person in her whole clan since the days of the Lost Swan Clan's great-mother.

Her basket had fallen. A tiny meow and skritching came from inside. She pulled her kitten out of the basket. His fur stood on end and he looked outraged. She'd rescued the kitten from a grolwuf, a cat-eating goblin, who had already devoured mama cat and the other kits. The little thing had been snow white, eyes sticky shut, but since then his ears, nose, paws and tail had darkened to black, as if he'd pranced in mud, so she'd named him Puddlepaws. She petted and kissed him until his fur settled and he purred to let her know the upset basket was forgiven.

The purring kitten on her shoulder and the beauty of the day rinsed away her gloom on the walk home. Rolling green hills stretched out in every direction under a perfect blue sky marked only with the V of migrating swans. Everything smelled fresh. The corn was shoulder high, while inside the pale green husks, the kernels flushed deeper gold with each passing day. Innumerable clouds of tiny willawisps hazed the fields like sparkling mists. Maize sprites clambered nimbly to the tips of the straight-backed stalks to wave at Dindi when she brushed by them. Pixies of every color fluttered on luminous wings around her head, making her dizzy. Puddlepaws batted at them.

"Wait up, Dindi," called her cousin, Hadi, puffing behind her. "Aunt Sullana asked me to find you." He posed with his spear, in an attempt to look stern. Unseen by Hadi, a pixie banged the butt of Hadi's dangling spear on his knee.

"Ow." He dropped the spear and hopped about on one foot. He glowered suspiciously at his spear when he picked it up, and then at Dindi. "There aren't any fae around, are there?"

"Hardly any," Dindi assured him.

The pixies laughed as he plowed right past them without seeing them. Most people could not see the fae. Kittens could. Puddlepaws leaped from her shoulder, trying to catch a pixie, missed, of course, and flipped in the air before landing in the dirt.

"I'm not a wayward goat," said Dindi. "I don't need herding."

"I'm older than you and I'm the closest you have to a brother, so yes, I am your keeper," he said, brandishing his spear. "Once I pass Initiation, and I am a Man, my duty will be to protect your honor from all who threaten it--"

The mischievous purple pixie crouched at his feet, fiddling with the laces to his legwals. While Dindi tried to guess what the fae was up to, the pixie untied two pairs of laces on either of Hadi's legs, then retied the wrong strings together. Meanwhile, another pixie buzzed around his ear to distract him. Though Hadi couldn't see the fae, and couldn't make out the words, he could hear the hum of pixie voices.

"You little fiends!" Hadi waved his spear. "I know you're here somewhere! I'll get you!"

"Hadi, don't...!"

When Hadi tried to lunge, he tripped because his calves were tied together. He fell face first into the moist soil.

"You mucky faeries!" He pounded the mud where he'd fallen. The pixies cheered and jumped up and down on his back while congratulating each other on their victory over the foe. Puddlepaws pounced on the pixie. Very proud of himself, he held the pixie by the back of its little tunic and brought it to Dindi.

"Bad kitty! Bad kitty!" cried the pixie.

Dindi scooped up the kitten, freed the pixie, and shouted back over her shoulder, as she took off down the row of maize, "I'll just go on ahead."

"Dindi! You are not to leave my sight!" He squirmed in the mud but only managed to dig himself into a shallow trench. "Dindi! Dindi, get back here this instant! I'm in charge of you!"

She just laughed. The empty basket bounced on her back as she ran. The fae followed Dindi in a cloud.

"Come dance with us! Come dance with us!" they urged in a babble of flute voices.

"I can't this afternoon, friends," Dindi apologized. "I have to gather soap roots, tallow and ash to make soap and pick and juice blueberries, all by middle meal."

A purple pixie fragile as a butterfly, landed on Dindi's shoulder. She twined her tiny lavender hands in Dindi's black hair.

"Chores are boring, Dindi," she said.

"That's why they call them chores."

"Don't let those humans tire you out, Dindi," chided a green pixie. He landed on Dindi's other shoulder. A red shoved him off and claimed the shoulder for his own. That enraged the purple, who raced over Dindi's nose to attack the red pixie. All this activity excited Puddlepaws, who squirmed in Dindi's arms. She kept her grip firm on the furry pixie-hunting predator.

"Do you mind?" Dindi said. "It's very difficult to walk when you're using me as a battleground."

"Then come dance with us!"

"Yes, yes!" agreed a yellow dandelion sprite. He parted the corn stalks to skip at Dindi's feet. "You dance with us and in exchange, we'll do your chores for you."

"Mm. Just like you milked the bull for me and winnowed the sugar out of the gravel for me, and wove a sitting mat I was to give to Uncle Lubo out of prickly pear thorns?"

"Friends," the green pixie said to the others, "anyone would think she wasn't grateful for all our help."

"Impossible." The purple one giggled. "She just can can't express herself because she's so overwhelmed with joy that with her chores out of the way she is now free to dance with us."

Dindi frowned.

"Are you sick, Dindi?" asked the orange.

"We won't do your chores for you anymore if you stop dancing with us," blustered the yellow sprite.

That would be a big loss. "Soon, I might not be dancing with you anymore at all. If I fail the test to become a Tavaedi, I must stop dancing."

The fae were stunned silent for a moment. Then they all began to shout at Dindi at once.

"Enough!" cried Dindi, making the Dispel hand-sign in earnest this time. The clouds of willawisps scattered, the pixies were flung away as if by gusts of heavy wind, and the sprites all went rolling like tumbling stones. Corn stalks were flattened around Dindi in a perfect circle three yards out.

From the perimeter of the circle of dispellation, the fae peered at her with hurt expressions.

"I'm sorry," Dindi said. "You know I don't want to abandon you."

The fae crept back towards her until at last they huddled as close as before, murmuring her name.

"Uhm." She was abashed. "Could you help me fix the corn?"

"Hurrah! She will dance with us!" squealed the purple pixie.

What harm would it do to share one more teensy weensy dance with her friends? After all, who knew when Initiation might come? She might never have another chance. She would sip one last taste of wild faerie magic. She shrugged away the basket and let Puddlepaws down in the grass. Dindi let the fae lead her into their circle.

The pixies began to fly in circles over the ruined crops. The cob-sized corn sprites whose stalks she'd knocked over joined in next. Willawisps were drawn to all the activity. They all began to twirl and shuffle and skip and jump in a ring around and around, Dindi dancing right along with them. As the corn stalks began to right themselves, the dancers changed the pattern and started to weave in and out of the stalks. Wild swirls of color trailed in the wake of all the fae dancers, strange and marvelous.

Dindi laughed with exhilaration despite herself, abandoning herself to whatever moves her body wanted to make. The corn was upright again. If anything, it was greener and more fragrant than before. Dindi slowed down, signaling the fae to stop too. They refused to take the hint. They kept whirling.

She danced alongside them, but she knew it was their magic at work. If she didn't stop them from getting carried away, they would continue dancing and possibly start to do more damage than good. She had seen them summon storms, uproot trees, start geysers from bare rocks. It was one reason she normally only danced with them out on the heath, far past the cultivated fields. Mama had warned her never to let other humans see her play with the fae.

The swarm of whirling faery dancers moved up the mountain, without ever missing a step. Dindi moved with them, keeping up easily with their improvised patterns of skips, turns, kicks and leaps. Soon they emerged onto a patch of flat heath with a view of the whole valley below. The sky seemed to pull back to give them more room.

She spread her arms and drew in a drought of the fresh air. Then she closed her eyes and envisioned again the shinning swirls of light patterns created by the Taevaedis on Barter Day. In her mind, she recreated the role of every single dancer. What steps had each player in the pattern made? One by one, she danced each person's role as best she could remember it. First, she played the 'human' parts. Then, saving and savoring them for the end, she played the Aelfae parts. But when she came to the finale, when the last Aelfae in the dance was to fall and die, she decided to change the ending. Instead, she leaped up again, spread her imaginary wings behind her and vaulted across the field in a full twisting double back leap.

The fae laughed in glee. They much preferred her new dance to the dance of the Tavaedies. Satisfied now that she had run through all the steps of all the dancers in yesterday's dance, Dindi finally abandoned herself to free-form dancing. That delighted the fae even more.

The low hum of faerie voices, the sparkle of pixie wings and her own pounding blood wrapped Dindi in a trance of pure feeling. Movement inside her itched to spill out.

A pixie curled a small hand around Dindi's ear, whispering, "You never have to go back, Dindi. You could dance with us forever and ever..."

Their voices hummed hypnotically, enticing her forward step by step. The lullaby lure of the faery ring shimmered all around her, a mixture of light and song. The fae clasped hands together, closing the circle about her. A chain of pixies undulated in the air, the sprites linked up, and then, in the last gap in the circle, a heron-winged kinnara soared toward the dancers to close the circle. "Come dance with us, Dindi. Come dance with us forever..."

"Nice try, but I'm not yours yet!" Regret tinged her amusement, but her resolve was firm, as it always was when the fae played this game with her. Dindi somersaulted through the air with an aerobic leap that catapulted her right out of the gap. She rolled away on the moss, laughing.

"You can't catch me in a faery ring that easily," she teased them. The fae responded in delight.

"Again, again!" they urged her.

"My family needs me. Oh, mercy!" She clapped her hands over her face. "Soaproot and blueberries! I haven't had time..."

Boast waved his little scarlet arms in an expansive gesture. "Fear not, friend Dindi! We have taken care of all that silly human stuff for you!"

Oh.

Oh, no.

"How, um, exactly?" Dindi asked.

"How else? We juiced the blueberries and sudded the soaproot."

"Here it is now," said Kippy. A goat legged satyr with tawny fur and an Orange glow, skipped up to Dindi. He carried a covered basket in one hand--the soap--and a jug in the other hand--the blueberry juice. It was the same jar she had broken this morning. The fae had stuck the cracked shards back together. After Kippy placed these on the grass before her, he bowed solemnly and pranced away.

"We did it just like the humans do," Giggles said.

Dindi had her doubts, but just at that moment she heard Hadi shouting. He appeared around a bend in the path and glared at her with exasperation.

"There you are! An important guest has arrived for middle-meal and Great Aunt Sullana will chop off your toes if you miss it. And on top of that, I'm starving. If you make me miss middle-meal, I'll tell her you went off dancing with the fae again."

An important guest?

"I have to go," Dindi told the fae. She rescued another pixie from Puddlepaws, shouldered her basket, and followed Hadi back down the hillside.

#### Kavio

Kavio smelled the costumes of his accusers before he could see them--corn-husks, horse hair, quilt skirts and shoulder blankets soaked with years of dancers' sweat. He heard the rustle of many bodies, the clicky-clack of shell and chalcedony bracelets jangling upon wrists and ankles. The susurration of disapproving voices rose in pitch as people noticed his entrance.

Stone spearheads pricked him in the shoulders. Tiny trickles of blood coursed down his back, mingling with his sweat as a testament to his guards' enthusiasm to see him judged for his crimes. The warriors guarding him had told him nothing. He had been blindfolded, stripped to a loincloth, and bound with his hands behind his back. Still, Kavio didn't need to see to know he had been brought to his trial.

The cool, musty air, crisscrossed by rays of warmth, told him this must be the kiva where the Society of Societies convened for the most serious of deliberations. The underground amphitheatre was one of the few kivas with windows in the upper reaches of the room. Otherwise, the texture of the walls and floor--volcanic rock daubed with adobe and dung whitewash--felt no different from the rest of the Labyrinth.

The guards shoved him to his knees before one them tore off his blindfold.

Three dyed reed mats had been placed at intervals down the center of the rectangular room, one white, one black, and one orange. A large polychrome pottery vase painted in patterns of those same three colors had been placed beside the middle, black mat. Kavio knelt in front of the white mat.

Tiered adobe steps around three sides of the rectangular room provided seating for the Tavaedies and Zavaedis, the men and women of the secret societies. From the squeeze of costumed bodies, it looked as though every dancer in the Labyrinth was in attendance. All were masked. Many of the masks sprouted huge fans of woven cane, feather tufts, or carved wooden animal faces. Others sported horns, manes, or false beards. Still others displayed abstract shapes, ovals or diamonds, or a cascade of beaded fringes. It wasn't easy for so many masked dancers to fit in the tiers. Feathered and beaded shoulder blankets, necklaces coiled as thick as snakes, and full corn-husk skirts took up space.

Only his mother, indifferent as ever to convention, wore no mask, just a simple white beaded dress. She sat stiffly on the lowest tier, face-to-face with Kavio. Even at her age, she was the most beautiful woman in the room. She was also the only one in the tiers who had no closely-pressed neighbors. No one quite dared sit next to her.

Opposite her, behind Kavio, rose an adobe platform taller than any of the tiered seats. He had to twist his head to look up the seven steps to the top of the platform to see the man who stood there in full regalia, holding a rain stick. Paint divided the man's already severe features into an interlocked pattern of sharp edges and boxes. Colorful matching mazes were woven into his shoulder blanket and outlined in beads of obsidian and pearl. His massive headdress consisted of numerous coiled cords, horned and feathered and shelled. Beaded hoops rested around his neck, as did a gold coiled torque. The pin that held his shoulder blanket in place had also been beaten from gold, into the shape of a stylized wild horse.

The man pounded his rain stick on the platform. He had a voice of gravel and stone.

"Let it be remembered on the Memory Stick, that in This Year, yet to be named, I, the War Chief of the Rainbow Labyrinth and head of the Society of Societies in the absence of a Vaedi, have called all of the secret dancing societies together to sit in judgment at the trial of Kavio . . ."

He paused to make the ponderous trip down the seven steps to the floor of the assembly room. Even so, because Kavio had been forced to his knees, the other man had to look down to glower at him.

". . . Kavio, my own son."

Even though he'd expected it, his father's contempt stung.

"Who will cast the first stone?" asked Father.

The men and women in the tiers shuffled, whispered. Most of them removed their masks from their sweat-drenched heads, and a few went so far as to fan themselves.

A woman in amber necklaces removed an orange eagle-feathered mask before she rose to her feet. She was an elder from Father's generation, his brother's wife and Father's bitterest political rival. As a child, Kavio had nicknamed her "Auntie Ugly."

"I will cast the first stone on behalf of the accusers," Auntie Ugly said with ill-concealed relish. "Kavio committed the most serious crime of which a Zavaedi dancer is capable. He concocted his own Pattern, a dance unknown to our ancestors. He cannot name the teacher that taught it to him, nor the society who held its secret. That is hexcraft.

"That in itself would be reason to discipline him. But on top of that, he used this Pattern for the vilest of purposes, to harm the community that bore him and to deprive his neighbors of their very livelihood."

Kavio glanced involuntarily at Mother. He had never seen her so ashen. Though a part of him wanted to spit in Father's face, the knowledge that he had disappointed Mother burned like chili pepper in his mouth. But no matter what happened, he'd be cursed before he'd show how he felt in front of this assemblage of vultures and jackals. Or in front of his father.

He lifted his chin and faced his accuser with his most insolent smile.

As he'd known it would, his smile infuriated Auntie Ugly. She jabbed a bony finger at him.

"Three days ago, Kavio, you went into a room here in the Labyrinth and performed a hex that diverted a part of the river upstream from the Valley of the Aelfae. By doing so, you have lowered the water level in the fields, making it possible that not enough silt will be deposited by planting season.

"As witness, I call my own son, Zumo the Cloud Dancer."

Kavio's cousin, a young man of similar age, build, and height, stood. He removed his mask of blue shells. While Kavio seethed inside, Zumo repeated the lies that had led to this trial in the first place. Not that anything Zumo testified was false; his deception lay in what he didn't say.

After Zumo, a second witness repeated the story of having found Kavio dancing alone in a kiva in the Labyrinth.

"Thank you both," Auntie Ugly said smugly after the second witness sat down again. "Kavio, do you deny these charges?"

"I don't deny what I did," he said. "I deny that I invented the Pattern, I deny that it was hexcraft, and I deny that it was intended to harm our people."

When Auntie Ugly sneered at him, the anger that had been pummeling his belly these last days bettered his sense, and he added sarcastically, "I do not deny that there are times I wish I had let you all drown."

He knew it was a mistake as soon as he said it. The masked Tavaedies and Zavaedies hissed and shouted.

"Zavaedi Kavio's guilt is plain," said Auntie Ugly. "I cast my stone with justice. I call for Kavio's death!"

She glided to the pottery jar and pulled out a smooth, gray stone, then tossed it on the black mat.

Big surprise there, thought Kavio. You've always hated me, you old toad. I never even understood why.

"Zumo?" Auntie Ugly asked her son.

More slowly than his mother, Zumo picked a stone. He threw it on the black mat. He had to walk by where Kavio knelt on the adobe floor to reach his seat again. Just as he passed, Kavio looked up and met his eyes.

"Is that what you really think I deserve, cousin?" Kavio asked in such a low voice that only Zumo heard him. "For what crime? The lies you told here or because I know the truth about you?"

Zumo flushed, whether with guilt or anger, it was impossible to tell.

"No one will listen to anything you have to say now, Kavio," Zumo replied, also too quietly for anyone else to hear. "They'll know you're just clawing at worms to try to save your own hide."

He stomped back to his seat, where he replaced his mask.

Auntie Ugly had sentenced the son of her rival to death; all eyes now fell upon Father to see if he would defend his son.

Father's heavy shoulder blanket seemed to weigh him down as he walked to the jar to pick up a stone. He stood there a long while, turning the rock round and round in his hands.

"I would like to speak," he said finally, looking straight at Kavio, "on behalf of the accusers."

Surprise stirred the onlookers. Kavio just smiled grimly. He wasn't surprised at all. He'd known from the day his father had called for the trial that Father would put political need above family sentiment. Sure enough, Father gave a pretty little speech, distancing himself from his son. He locked his jaw when he finished and clutched his fist around his stone. "I too must cast my stone with justice, even if it means the death of my own son, my only child."

He threw his rock on the black mat. He met Kavio's eyes without flinching, but when Mother gasped, Father would not look at her.

Mother stood up next and pleaded on Kavio's behalf. Even she would not declare him innocent. Instead, she simply begged for mercy--exile instead of death. Mother picked a stone out of the jar and placed it on the orange mat.

Kavio felt his face burn with shame. He wouldn't beg for his life himself, and he didn't want her to crawl for him either. Besides, death would be easier than exile. He didn't think he could bear the humiliation of wearing ash. Exile meant fleeing his home like a vole from a prairie fire. Exile meant scorn would meet him wherever he went. Exile meant he would not have the opportunity to finish unraveling the puzzle he had discovered in the heart of the Labyrinth, the only magic he still cared about.

Far, far better to die.

One by one the rest of the Zavaedis came to cast their stones for either exoneration, exile, or death. Some spoke to the assembly of their reasons why, others simply placed the stone according to their choice.

Unfortunately, his mother's plea moved many people to pity him. When all the rocks had piled up, the orange mat held the most stones.

Exile.

Kavio swallowed hard to conceal his reaction. You have murdered me all the same.

Father pounded the rain stick.

"Kavio, you have been found guilty of the most heinous of crimes--hexcraft. Though you remain a member of the secret societies that initiated you and are therefore spared death, nonetheless you are forbidden to enter the Labyrinth, to take with you anything from the Labyrinth, or to study with any dancing society of the Labyrinth. Do you understand and acknowledge your punishment?"

"I understand it all too well," Kavio said through gritted teeth. "But I will never acknowledge it as just."

"So be it," Father said tonelessly. "Bring the pot of ashes."

Two warriors hefted a ceramic pot from where it had rested in the shadow of the tall platform. They forced Kavio to lean back while still on his knees. They smeared him with a paste and rubbed in the gray-black powder. His bare chest and clean shaven face disappeared under a scum of grey crud. Humiliation itched, but like poison ivy, he knew it would be worse if he scratched it. He forced himself still as stone while the warriors slapped on more mud.

"You must wear mud and ash for the rest of your days," the Maze Zavaedi concluded. His voice broke. "I am ashamed to call you my son."

Kavio struggled to his feet. The warriors escorting him surrounded him with a hedge of spears. Did they fear him, even now?

"You never could just trust me, could you, Father?" Kavio asked.

Father's jaw jutted forward. A muscle moved in his neck. Otherwise, he might have been rock. "Escort my son out of the Labyrinth."

#### Dindi

Dindi and Hadi climbed down a ladder to the kitchen in the main house. Puddlepaws was not invited but the kitten scrambled down the ladder after them. Smoke dimmed the whitewashed walls to grey and hazed the air with spicy fumes. She searched the room for an important guest. In the corner opposite the ladder were three beehive-shaped ovens, each with its own adjacent ash pit. Mixed with lard and soaproot, the ashes would be used to wash clothes in the stream--which reminded Dindi of the chores she should not have let the fae do for her. Nearby were quern stones for milling corn.

Beyond the querns was a deep, cool pit for storing jugs of milk and water. The two walls extending from the cooking corner were lined with shelves above and jars below. The shelves were crammed with spices, cheeses, dried fruit and tools knapped of chert. The rest of the chamber was given over to a broad clay platform at knee height, which served as an eating-place. As a tot, she'd danced there, pretending to be a Tavaedi, earning laughter and cheers from her family. She'd never stopped dancing; they'd stopped cheering. By the time she was five, the same aunties who had praised her grace and dedication complained of her clumsiness and laziness. Little girls should keep the platform white washed, and cover it with fresh reed mats, not dance there.

The members of the clan had seated themselves in a rough rectangle around the edge of the platform, smallest children on laps. Hands passed back and forth the communal bowls of food. The clay bowls and platters held flat triangular bread, bean mash, goat cheese melted to a gooey sauce and bowls of crushed chili peppers and lemon juice to be added for flavor. Family members used their hands to make _pishas_ by wrapping the beans and cheese in the bread. The warriors sat nearest the door, the maidens nearest the ovens. Great Aunt Sullana and Mama and the other aunts sat against the wall, the matriarchs an isle of dignified manners amidst the chaos. Only matriarchs knew the secret of eating _pishas_ full of melted cheese without getting sticky fingers.

Zavaedi Abiono, the leader of the Tavaedi troop, sat in the place of honor, between the warriors and the aunties. He nodded to Dindi. Her heart drummed faster.

"Why, here's Lost Swan Clan's very own lost cygnet!" cried Papa. He was a big, wry man with a spreading belly. Papa and Uncle Lubo led the others in cheers and whistles. Dindi blushed.

"There you are at last, girl," said Great Aunt Sullana. "Your hair looks as though beavers had abandoned a dam there. Your face is smudged. Did you spend the morning rolling in dust? Never mind, Zavaedi Abiono is doing us the great honor of a visit. Comb your hair and wash your face before you join us. This is a kitchen, not a den of bears."

Flustered, Dindi took her basket of soap to where deep clay pots had been sunk as a cistern in the earth. This was the darkest corner of the kitchen, smelling of dirt hardened with aurochs dung and the memory of pools in ancient caverns. A single Blue nixie floated on his back in the depths of one of the jugs. He winked up at Dindi. Puddlepaws extended a tiny paw to reach him and almost fell in the water.

She took out a lump of soap, splashed water on her face and rubbed up a quick lather. The soap did not lather well, but rather than struggle with it, she rinsed her face again, dragged her fingers through her wild hair and hurried to the platform where everyone else sat.

She shoved herself between her female cousins, Jensi and Tibi. Dindi peeked curiously at Aunt Sullana, at Zavaedi Abiono, at Mama, at Papa, hoping for a clue to the real reason behind their visitor's purpose.

They stared back at her in amazement.

"Yes, I can see why you were asking about Dindi," Papa said to Zavaedi Abiono.

"Oh, Dindi," sighed her mother.

Uncle Lubo slapped his thigh and bellowed with laughter. In minutes, the whole clan joined him.

"For mercy's sake, girl," said Great Aunt Sullana. "Did you smear your face with blueberries?"

Dindi's hands flew to her face. It did feel sticky.... Horrified, she glanced back at the pile of soap lumps she had left by the cistern's lip. The lumps were blue.

Blue soap.

Blueberry soap.

The fae had mixed the blueberries, not the soaproot, with the ashes and lard.

Oh, mercy. Her whole face must be stained with the indelible juice.

"Because you don't know her well, you may think Dindi's just a little strange," Papa said to Zavaedi Abiono. "Once you get to know her better, you'll realize that's not true. She's extremely strange."

Uncle Lubo's renewed peals of laughter reverberated around the smoky kitchen.

"Enough," said Great Aunt Sullana. It was a decree. The guffaws of the uncles subsided to an echo of snickers and snorts from the younger cousins. "Where have you been, Dindi? Hadi says you ran off without him despite my express wishes."

Dindi shot Hadi the wounded look of one betrayed. He shoved a pisha into his mouth and shrugged.

"Seven and seven times and seven times more," said Great Aunt in a voice wheezing with age, "I have warned you and warned you about going off on your own. Didn't I just say that strangers have been spotted in the woods? What if some outtribesman had seen you alone and made off with you!"

"Well," said Papa, "You've been wondering how we'd get Dindi married off."

"I said I wanted her married off, not carried off. Elli, can't you put a leash on this man's tongue?"

"If I had married a goat, I could leash him," Mama said.

"Instead you had to marry a boar."

Papa just laughed.

Great Aunt Sullana turned to Zavaedi Abiono. "You see what I have to put up with, Zavaedi."

Zavaedi Abiono glanced at Dindi, at her sticky blue face. He emitted a non-committal cough. She wanted to die.

"I gave up on taking that wild child in hand long ago," went on Great Aunt Sullana. "If her mother won't do it, I can't. And her mother won't. Will you, Elli?"

"She's still just a child, Aunt Sullana," Mama said.

"Not for much longer," said Great Aunt Sullana.

The adults' conversation moved on, finally and thankfully, but beside Dindi, Jensi and Tibi began whispering.

"Dindi, before you arrived, Abiono was asking what year you were born," said Tibi. "He asked about Hadi and Jensi too. Do you think there's going to be an Initiation?

"Of course that's what it means, you squirrel brain," said Jensi impatiently. "It's finally here. Finally. You're lucky, Dindi. It came early for you. It came late for me. Just think, Dindi, a year from now, we can start to pick a husband! And after that, you know what comes next. Babies!"

"Ugh," said Dindi. "I can do without either, thanks much. What would I want with babies and a husband? They just give you a lot of cooking and cleaning to do. I'd rather dance."

"Well, you can't dance without magic," said Jensi.

"I hope you're not as stupid as Mad Maba," said Tibi. "Someone told me that she wanted to be a Tavaedi so badly that when they told her she wasn't worthy, she--"

"Kemla told you that," said Jensi.

"What if she did?"

Across the room, Hadi and the other boys were apparently having a similar conversation, and reached a similar conclusion, for he suddenly burst out very loudly, his mouth still half full, "Is that why Zavaedi Abiono is here? Is it time for the Initiation?"

This overly loud question silenced the room, and Hadi turned bright red.

All the adults in the room found someplace else to look, except Great Aunt Sullana who withered Hadi where he sat with a hard stare.

"Not my place to ask," he mumbled. "My apologies, Zavaedi."

Zavaedi Abiono nodded. He glanced again at Dindi, coughed again, and toyed with his pisha thoughtfully without taking a single bite. A small furry creature, Puddlepaws, noticed the undefended lunch and lowered himself into a crouch to sneak up on the pisha.

That kitten loved cheese.

"So, Zavaedi Abiono," said Great Aunt Sullana, affecting a tone of innocent interest that fooled no one, "If an individual were not invited to join the Tavaedis, the best thing for her to do would be to marry a nice young man, give him her fields to plow, bear him children, all in all, settle down to a quiet, responsible life?"

"Er, yes, I suppose."

"You have two nephews on the verge of manhood, don't you? Tamio is too handsome for the likes of Dindi, but sturdy Yodigo will make a fine farmer one day."

"Well..."

"For mercy's sake, let the man eat, Sullana," Uncle Lubo said. "Here, Zavaedi, would you like some blueberry juice? Dindi made it this morning."

"Why, thank you..."

Dindi looked up in horror. But before she could compose a proper warning, Abiono lifted the jug to his mouth.

She covered her face with her hands, but she could still see the disaster unfolding on the other side of her fingers as Abiono sipped from the jug of soap juice. His face scrunched up and his mouth opened into a rictus of gastronomic distress. He spit out a spray of sudsy liquid.

Great Aunt Sullana cleared her throat to warn him that not even a Zavaedi would be permitted to behave rudely while dining.

"Urghrem," Abiono said, manfully wiping his chin. "Quite delicious, I thank you. Er, Dindi made that, you say?" He glanced at Dindi before he set down the jug and reached for his _pisha_ , now wrapped in kitten. He pried Puddlepaws off his food, which prompted the kitten to tackle his finger. "I thank you so much for the wonderful meal, Dame Sullana. I fear I must take my leave now, however, as I must also visit Full Basket clanhold before the sun sets."

_Is there anything else I could do to convince Abiono not to invite me to become a Tavaedi?_ Dindi despaired while the rest of the clan fussed over Abiono's departure. _My life is a colossal joke that's funny to everyone but me._ Uncle Lobo was still chortling.

Once the guest was gone, taking the excitement with him, a general exodus out of the kitchen followed. One by one the others finished, burped and left, until only Dindi and her mother remained. The kitchen was very hollow and empty without three dozen bodies filling it with life. The smell of farmers' sweat lingered, mixed with spicy food aromas and smoke from the burning dung.

Dindi sniffled.

"Lady of Mercy," said Mama under her breath. Muttering to herself, she went to the oven, where she placed a dollop of bean mash from a storage pot onto a piece of flat bread. She laid cheese on top, and folded over the three corners of the bread. She placed it on the pottery bread shovel and pushed it into the oven, which was kept stoked all day. When she decided that the pisha was crisped to her satisfaction, she pressed it into Dindi's hands. "Eat, eat."

Dindi pushed it away. She hid her blue face against her drawn up knees.

"You behave a like a child," Mama said. She lifted Dindi's chin. "But you're twice seven years, now, sweetling, and past your moonblood. If you lay with a man, he could make you a mother."

"I know I'm a burden to everyone around me. I try to do what's right, but everything I weave gets tangled."

"There is still a chance you will be chosen."

"Great Aunt Sullana obviously doesn't think so."

"What does she know?"

"Maybe something I don't," said Dindi. She lifted her head just enough to peer at her mother through tear dewed eyelashes. "You weren't chosen."

Mama stilled. "No. I wasn't."

"But you could have been the best dancer of your generation. Everyone thought so. Then, one day, instead of choosing you to dance magic, they told you could never dance, ever."

"It...wasn't as bad as all that," Mama said. "By then, I had your father. Soon I was trying hard to have a child. Sometimes you have to let a dream die."

"I just want to dance."

"Oh, Dindi." Mama put down the pisha. "If you won't eat, at least let me clean you up."

She went to the shelves in the corner. There she fiddled with various jars, until she returned with noxious, sharp smelling goo on a rabbit skin cloth.

"Come here, my little blueberry face," she said, taking Dindi by the chin. Mama wiped the ick on Dindi's cheeks and scrubbed. Hard.

"Ow!"

"Stop wiggling."

"Are you washing me or flaying me?"

"If you prefer, we can just rub blue soap over the rest of you, so at least you'll match."

"Mmmrrff," said Dindi, while her mother wiped the cloth over her mouth.

"My mother loved dancing too," Mama said. An old hurt quivered in her words. "She loved it more than me. Shortly after I was born, she abandoned me to dance with the fae. They caught her in a faery circle and she danced herself to death. Her sister had to raise me in her place. That's why your great aunt worries so over you." She lifted Dindi's chin and inspected her face for any trace of blueberry. Apparently she found none. "I understand you love to dance. I do, Dindi. You cannot know how well I understand." She stroked Dindi's cheek. "But I would never choose dancing over you."

"Why can't I have both?"

Mama was silent a moment. "My mother used to sing me a song. The night before she left me forever, when I was still just a tiny child, she told me it was part of an ancient tama, and if only she could dance that tama, to the end, she would never have to leave me. She didn't know how the song ended, so she hadn't performed the tama correctly during Initiation, but she never gave up trying. She thought the fae could help her learn it.... I was too young to understand that she was really saying goodbye. The unfinished song began like this:

Came a faery cross some kits

Suckling at their mother's tits,

Pawing, kneading with their mitts;

Ma, content to laze

'neath these tiny, mewling bits

Hid in a row of maize.

Cat and kittens were all a-purr.

Their mama licked and cleaned their fur.

Cat met the faery's eyes, demure,

And yet with pride ablaze.

Strange the mood that crept on her,

She watched them in amaze.

To her came her darkest sister,

Put her arms about her, kissed her

Drew her to her in the middle

Of the twisted ways,

Whispered in her ear this riddle:

'Chose the Windwheel or the Maize!'"

Chills whispered down Dindi's spine. A reverberating hum of the song echoed in the room for a few seconds after Mama finished signing.

Mama expelled a heavy breath. "Over the years, I have asked everyone I know about that song. No one knows it. A long time ago, a Green Woods tribeswoman, fleeing the Whistlers who ruled the Rainbow Labyrinth tribehold in those days, told me that perhaps the Zavaedi with the Singing Bow would know the tune. But the Green Woods tribesfolk have retreated to the Hidden Forest." She shrugged. "Perhaps all our worries are wasted. I truly hope you will be chosen to become a Tavaedi. And if not...."

"I'm sorry, Mama," said Dindi. Her jaw hurt, so hard did she clench it. "I think I'm more like Gramma Maba than like you."

Mama touched her cheek.

"Eat," she said. "Eat, already."

That night, Dindi was kidnapped.

You never forget the night they come for you.

Shuffling in the dark, followed by silence. You wake up with your heart already racing. Intrusive smells, chalk paste and feathers. Sweat. Beer. Heavy male breathing.

Their aim is to terrify you, disorient you, and they succeed. Grotesque heads loom over you, claw-like hands grasp you, yank you to the hay-strewn dirt in the goat pen under the loft. More hands smother your scream.

Their aim is to strip you of dignity, of comfort, and they do this literally. Horrible things, uglier and taller than men, surround you. They shove you from one to another, casual but brutal, tear off your clothes, smack your bare flesh, gag you and snag your wrists behind your back with scratchy twine. Beside you, your clan sister Jensi suffers the same abuse. Tibi cowers in a corner of the goat pen, but the kidnappers ignore her.

They herd you into the courtyard. Whitewashed adobe reflects the moonlight like bone. Night leeches color from the intricate designs painted on the houses, so the buildings look strangled by black nooses.

Firelight winks on a dozen naked captives, all in a line, a snake winding around the houses, preyed on by monsters. For a moment, you think the monsters are fae, some hideous sort, trolls or harpies, but fae do not carry torches or cast shadows. Fae glow with their own light. The kidnappers must be men in masks and mantas. As the enemy Tavaedi warriors shuffle and cavort, deformed shadows spring up to dance beneath and between them.

Their aim is to crush you, to grind you down like corn meal. They steal your senses one by one. You've already been gagged so tightly you find it hard to breath. Now they blindfold you. Have you ever had black cloth wrapped so tightly you can't see a torch held right next to your face? No, you've only played at it, in children's games. Real blindness, forced blindness, petrifies you. They shove a hollowed tree drum over your head, then pound it, assaulting your ears. Your hearing and balance, gone. A heavy basket, a mountain of stones, is forced onto your back. Your knees buckle under you, you want to collapse and cry, but you can't afford weakness. A switch against your thighs drives you forward.

You hate the switch, the ropes, their rough hands, yet, in your helplessness, you crave even the touch of these things to guide you, assure you the rest of the world is there, that you aren't lost alone blind and deaf in the dark.

Their aim is to keep you so exhausted, so helpless, you can't think beyond surviving the next step, and the next after that. They never let you rest, they hit and curse and threaten you. They force-march you down a narrow trail through bushes and trees that slap you. Occasionally, you trip, slip, bump against another captive tied in the line, and this brief rub of flesh on flesh reassures you that you aren't alone, but also makes you want to rage and weep because it reminds you the enemy has captured your cousins, your friends.

A strange thing happens. You're terrified, disoriented, humiliated, helpless, panting with exhaustion, focused on trying to place one foot at a time while avoiding the switch. You're also angry. As your hearing and sense of balance returns, your anger creeps up on you, growing fiercer, until it strangles your fear.

Despite the enemy's precautions, your woodcraft whispers certain secrets. The brush of the air on your skin, the texture and tilt of the ground, these tell you you're heading west, toward the ocean. You know you will be sold as a sacrificial slave, a mariah, as soon as they leave the borders of your clan and tribe, too far away for your kin to find or avenge you. Obedience doesn't bake well in your oven; you're certain you wouldn't last long as a slave. They warn you they will kill you if you don't do what they want, that your life is worth less to them than a fistful of seed. They call you wormbait, carrion.

Their aim is to make you think you are going to die, and they succeed.

So you have nothing left to lose.

Chapter Two

## Rover

#### Kavio

Kavio stood on the balcony of his father's house, back in the shadows, and the mob hadn't seen him yet. That couldn't last.

The mob filled the dusty streets between the blocks of adobe houses. Torches waved like luminous war banners. The throng had been gathering every evening for days before the trial, shouting for blood. Wild fae whirled around them, vicious little Red and Orange imps, unseen by most of the people in the crowd.

"Death to Kavio! Death to Kavio!" the people shouted.

Kavio inhaled the dry summer night. The decree of the Society of Societies might have been commuted to exile, but he still had to get out of the tribehold alive. Now that he faced a mob ready to rend him limb from limb, he found he preferred life in exile to death after all.

Father, still in his face paint and dance regalia, went to the edge of the balcony. Like the kiva, the adobe house had been painted white and the mud walls of the balcony rose organically out of the lower story of the house. For defensive purposes, none of the houses in the tribehold had doors on the first story. Ladders allowed access between the balcony and the street.

Father held up his arms to silence the crowd. It took some time to still their chanting.

"Your cries have been heard. Justice is served!" he shouted. "Kavio has been judged guilty. He will be exiled!"

This appeased few in the mob.

"In the Bone Whistler's day he would have been stoned!" someone shouted.

Thunderous rage contorted Father's face, but he never lost his self-control. "The Bone Whistler is dead and so are his ways. The judgment is exile."

"Of course the mighty Imorvae War Chief spares his own son!" someone else shouted.

Father's knuckles whitened on the ledge of the balcony, but his pride would not let him stoop to correct the accusation.

"Let Kavio begin his exile, here, now!" cried another voice. "We'll see how long it lasts!"

Ugly laughter rippled through the crowd.

"Lower the ladder," Father said to the Tavaedi warriors who still guarded Kavio.

Even the guards looked dubious. "The crowd will rip him apart as soon as he's down the ladder."

"Lower the ladder," repeated Father.

Kavio might have expected Mother to object to this, but she had not accompanied Kavio and Father back to their house from the kiva. In her typical way, she had disappeared without a word of goodbye. _I guess she hasn't forgiven me for turning down her offer._

The warriors lowered the ladder to the street. The crowd began to cheer. Someone took up the chant again.

"Death to Kavio! Death to Kavio!"

He knew his cue when he heard it, Kavio thought sardonically. He stepped forward into the torchlight and the sight of the mob. Another roar went up in the mob, and so many people tried to press close to the ladder that it almost fell into the street. One of the men pushed back the others, shouting, "Let him come down first, if he dares!"

"That's my invitation, I believe," he said to Father, grasping the ladder.

"If new evidence or new witnesses step forward to exonerate you," Father said, "You could resume all your duties as a Zavaedi in the Labyrinth. Is there anything you want to tell me, Kavio, which you didn't want to say at the trial?"

Kavio thought of Zumo, and what he might have said, did his cousin not share Auntie Ugly's unreasoning hatred of everything Kavio was. The chances that Zumo would change his testimony seemed slight. To say the least.

"Goodbye, Father."

He swung his legs around and descended the ladder into the waiting crowd.

They didn't even let him climb down the ladder, but shook it and pushed it over. He flipped in the air as he fell and landed on his feet, but at once, enraged men and women assaulted him from all sides, some with their hands and feet, some with rocks and sticks. The sheer volume of kicks, sticks, punches, pinches and pummels drove him to the dust in a heap of bruised flesh.

And he thought he had been ready to die. He fought for every last breath, made them pay for every blow with two blows back of his own, but still they were winning, they were going to beat him to death right under his own balcony, as Father watched impassively from above.

A strong arm clasped and dragged Kavio back to his feet. He could breathe again.

"The judgment was exile!" his helper shouted at the crowd. "You will not commit murder tonight!"

Blood dribbled into his eyes, so it took Kavio several blinks to realize who had saved him.

"Zumo," he said hoarsely. His mouth tasted of blood and dust.

"I'll escort you out of the tribehold, cousin," Zumo said evenly. He snapped his fingers. Several other Tavaedis, all Zumo's hangers-on, formed a defensive square around Kavio and Zumo.

The crowd jeered at Kavio as they passed, and a few of the braver ones hurled rocks or mud at him. He felt the shame of his nakedness strongly, not because of the attire itself, but because of the ashes smeared over his chest and thighs. He tried to hold his head up proudly rather than hunch over and shield himself from the taunting mob. He wondered which was worse, to need the protection of his enemy to walk the streets of the tribehold, or to wonder at its price.

"I thought you cast your stone on the black mat. Why are you suddenly so eager to keep me alive now when you wanted me dead this afternoon?"

"Ah, the stone. Mother suggested it would look more believable. But the fact is, I've got what I wanted," Zumo said.

Kavio pressed his lips together.

"This doesn't have to be forever, Kavio."

"What?"

Zumo gestured to Kavio's bloody, ash-smeared body. "This. Your exile."

"That's not the judgment I heard."

"There is a way that an exile may be allowed to return--if he is pardoned by a War Chief or a Vaedi. Your father can never pardon you, because his impartiality would be called into question. But I could."

"You?"

"After your father steps down, a new War Chief will have to be appointed," Zumo went on. "It would have been you before. Now it will be me."

Kavio felt sick. "Congratulations."

They had arrived at the large wooden gates at the entrance of the tribehold. There were too many warriors on guard at the gate for the mob to follow. Muttering, the crowd dispersed.

"If you would agree to serve me loyally, I would let you back into the Labyrinth as a Zavaedi again," Zumo said. He sounded as though he thought he was truly doing Kavio a favor. "I mean it."

Kavio laughed. He looked his cousin up and down in contempt. "Never forget, I know what you really are, Zumo."

Hatred boiled in Zumo's face. And fear. "No one would believe you."

"Don't worry." Kavio's lips twitched in a self-mocking smile. "I know that. That's not the point. The point is, I know what you are. And I would rather live in exile the rest of my days than serve a man who lives a lie every day of his life."

"Be careful, Kavio. Death might still find you."

"It finds us all in the end, doesn't it? Goodbye Zumo."

Outside the Rainbow Labyrinth tribehold, no mobs harassed him and no enemies taunted him. Fields that smelled of sweet maize surrounded him. The tribehold stood on a mesa in a large box canyon cut by a river. Irrigation ditches and low stone walls divvied up the fields. The sparkle of willawisps blinked on and off against the night sky. He decided he would walk as far as he could by dawn before he stopped to consider camping. He had no sleeping roll, no pack, no water gourd, not even a weapon.

When the moon rose, he started to scan the valley for the journey omen. He admitted he was vain enough to hope for something noble, a nighthawk or a cougar, but no living creature crossed his path. All he found was the shed skin of a snow snake, luminous white, perfectly intact and as long as his arm. Snow snakes were rare creatures, which lived high in the mountains, but once a year they shed their white skins for jet black scales and descended by the hundreds to mate in the hot desert valleys. A poor omen, he decided. Even after he found the skin, he kept an eye out for a cougar.

He had walked most of the night when he heard footsteps paralleling his. He tensed.

Mother stepped out from the rows of maize. She seemed to glow white in the moonlight. He felt absurdly glad to see her, surprised yet not surprised to find her out here, just where the tilled fields gave way to wild forest. He quickened his step to join her, but when he saw her face, full of pain, he stopped short of embracing her.

She had not forgiven him. Aching inside, he mulled her painful words to him during their fight. You can't even do this one thing for me.

He remembered reaching toddler-chubby arms up to her, commanding, "Fly with me!" She would sweep him up, as her wings spread behind her, until they rode the wind. Father hated those flights; Mother and Father always fought about it afterward. To stop the yelling, Kavio had learned to stop asking her to fly.

When he'd been seven years old, she'd sewn him his first dance costume, the most wondrous thing he'd ever seen, of spider silk and parrot feathers, cowrie shells and rainbow stitches. He'd ripped it up in front of her. She'd never sewn him another one.

Little by little, over the years, he had pushed her further from him. It was the price he'd paid to please his father.

He wanted to say: _I'm sorry._ To say: _I love you._

He wanted to say: _Fly with me._

Instead, his words tumbled out like stones on a slippery mountain trail, hard and impatient. "Just before the trial, you said you wanted me to look for the Vaedi, that humankind would perish if I didn't. I can go now."

Mother's chalcedony bracelets chimed when she shrugged. "I don't remember saying that."

"This quest was supposedly so important you told me it was worth dishonoring myself to flee in secret rather than attend my trial. You don't remember?"

"I thought they would execute you." The scent of ripening corn wafted from the fields. Mother's nose wrinkled slightly in distaste. She'd never liked corn, something she'd only eaten after she married Father. "I must have concocted wild things to save you."

Why had he thought otherwise? She would never change.

"This is the last time I'll see you, Mother." He was proud of his straight back. He would not let himself scratch the dried mud that caked his body, though it itched like crawling flies.

She ruined the solemn moment by crying. He let her hug him and weep into his chest. He patted her shoulder. He realized he had been looking forward to her quest, to give him purpose in his exile. In his mind, he tore up the idea of finding the Vaedi, and all the other crazy things his mother had urged him, all lies, all spider-silk and parrot feathers.

As he walked away, the mud didn't itch as badly. Her fierce hug had rubbed away most of the dust cake, leaving behind only a stain.

#### Rthan

Rthan surveyed the damage to his water spell. Weeks of fasting, planning, traveling and dancing, ruined. The careful crystalline lines he had built up around the mountain snows had been realigned, diverted. His original configuration would have unleashed a flood of snowmelt several months from now, with spring's kiss. No longer. The new glowing blue lines of magic would sluice the melt water harmlessly down a dozen smaller arroyos, instead of toward the enemy settlement in the main valley below the mountain. Someone had protected the Rainbow Labyrinth tribehold.

"Who could have done this?" he asked aloud.

The other six men and women with him only mirrored back to him his own bafflement and bemusement. They shivered and wheezed in the snow, not used to either the temperature or the altitude. He knew they were wondering if he would order them to stay the long weeks required to dance the entire spell again.

He wasn't really speaking to the little girl at his side. Nonetheless, she looked up at him with large, grave eyes.

"Kavio the Rain Dancer," she said. She had joined him almost unnoticed.

Meira. His daughter, his only child, was only eight, but already she promised to be a classic beauty. Her long, straight black hair was knotted by strings of pearls in twists that reached her ankles. Her tiny face was a perfect moon, her mouth an adorable pink shell, and her eyes deep tide pools reflecting the shades of the ocean and the sky. People said she looked like him, but miniaturized and refined. He was a bulky, tattooed tower of muscle, with his long hair disciplined into a top tail of tiny braids to mark his kills. She was an adorable pixie doll.

Meira. His daughter, his only child, had died six years ago. He knew this, knew the person at his side wasn't really Meira, and yet, he couldn't stop the love and pain he felt every time he looked at her, glowing faintly blue by his side.

The six with him were all Blue Tavaedies, and they could see her, not as Meira, but as an azure radiance too brilliant to bear. They knew he sometimes called her by his dead daughter's name, and because of that and because her power frightened them, her presence spooked them. They backed away now, shielding their eyes.

"Should we break camp?" asked Rthan's second in command, Dorthamo. The man's gaze slipped past the shimmering blue girl, back toward the lean-tos and campfire along the shore of the frozen tarn. "If we don't leave now, we won't have time to do the primary hex."

"If we hex the Yellow Bear tribehold, but leave their allies unmolested, their allies will still be free to come to their aide during the attack," Rthan said.

Dorthamo's face sagged. "Yes..."

"But if we stay longer, the pass will freeze over and we won't be able to return at all," Rthan said. "We must break camp. We must cast the primary hex. Or call off the venture entirely."

"I don't think the War Chief would agree to canceling."

"Neither do I," said Rthan. He waved. "Go ahead. Break camp. I need a moment to speak to..."

"Her?" Dorthamo still wouldn't look at Meira.

Rthan nodded.

Dorthamo swallowed hard. "Is she angry?"

Afraid to hear the answer, he scuttled away before Rthan could reply. The others hastened after him, and began to disassemble the hide tents.

The little blue girl slipped her hand into Rthan's, just as his daughter had so many times.

"I'm not mad at you, Daddy," she said.

"Don't call me that. I can't..." He pulled his hand away. "You said Kavio the Rain Dancer did this. Then the Rainbow Labyrinth must know of our spell. They will try to retaliate."

"No." A breeze lifted strands of her hair to play in a chilly wind. Dark, inhuman power shone from her eyes, belying the innocence of her child's face. "They are fools. As for Kavio...."

She smiled at him, but it wasn't the smile of a mortal child. The coldness of glaciers and the ruthlessness of typhoons glinted in that cruel smile. He shivered. He loved her. She was all he had, since the murder of his family. He had to admit, though, she terrified him even more than she frightened the others. He knew her better.

#### Kavio

Three days out from the tribehold, Kavio found his first fight. Rovers, men who had left their birth clan, but not yet married into a new allegiance, often traveled together in packs, like wild dogs, and like dogs, they hunted. Sometimes for need, sometimes for pleasure.

Three dropped onto the path in front of Kavio. One was missing his nose and ears, which meant he was probably a mariah, a captive destined for human sacrifice, who had escaped in the middle of his torture. The other two were undoubtedly exiles like Kavio, judging by the whip marks on their backs, though they did not wear their mud and ashes, and he assumed had no compunction against carrying out more of the crimes which had won them expulsion.

To his surprise, the rovers didn't attack. They invited him back to their campfire. Shrugging, he accepted--was he any better than they? He found their lack of either resentment or awe oddly refreshing.

"Do you know who I am?" Kavio couldn't help but ask them.

The noseless, earless one grinned. "I don't care, Exile. Don't you understand? This is your chance to escape who you are, become who you want."

In their camp, they had a captive, some toothless old man, whom they'd tied to a tree. Taking turns, each rover sliced a piece of flesh off the old man's thigh, ignoring his piteous howls, then tossed the meat on a rock in the fire and ate it.

"We eat first," the leader, the earless one said, "Then we dance and invite the fae to eat the rest. Who says you have to be a Tavaedi to dance? The fae don't care who serves them, or how well you dance, only that you do."

None of the three had magic in their auras, save for a few wild, random glimmers born of strong hates and brooding envies, but--and this was kept secret for this very reason--fierce emotion alone could do damage if combined with dancing, especially if the fae were involved, never mind blood sacrifice and dark bargains. _When my Father looks at me, thought Kavio, is it these men he sees?_

"So you're hexers," Kavio said, "as well as cannibals?"

The two exiles kept chewing. Their noseless, earless leader stopped.

"You're not going to join us, are you?"

Kavio smiled apologetically. "No. I'm going to free the old man. You're going to try to stop me. Then I'm going to kill you."

The leader hefted his spear, which spurred his companions to do the same, but Kavio was already moving. Weaponless, it took him several minutes and cost him an ugly punch to the ear to kill all three rovers. He untied the old man and asked if his clanhold was far. The old man scrambled away, too terrified to answer. Pursuit seemed more likely to scare than help him.

He couldn't desecrate the dead, even bandits, so he searched near the main path until he found a smaller path which paralleled it, a trail marked as Deathsworn by a black megalith capped by a skull.

To trod the path of the Deathsworn was to join them, or join the dead, and they in turn, were forbidden to taint the paths of ordinary men. The Deathsworn were neither fae nor exactly human, though they had once been human. The fae couldn't see them. The Deathsworn recruited from all tribes and belonged to none. They were not allowed to involve themselves in tribal wars or clan politics. They performed a gruesome job, and most people loathed and shunned them, but everyone needed them.

He left the bodies beneath the skull stone. After a slight hesitation, he relieved one corpse of legwals and a spear.

The legwals stank of sour milk and blood, a stench that reminded him of the first time he'd killed a man. Though Kavio had only been ten, not yet past Initiation into manhood, he'd already been Tested and proved a Tavaedi. During the fight, he'd been so sacred he pissed himself, and because of that so embarrassed, he hadn't told Father what happened. His stupid fear, his stupid pride, had almost started a war.

Was this the meaning of his journey omen? He'd spent his whole life trapped in the literal and political mazes of the Rainbow Labyrinth tribehold. This was his chance to shed those restrictions, grow himself anew. He didn't want to be his father's shadow, or his mother's reflection, but neither did he care to be a rover. If he remade himself, he wanted to become more than he had been, not less.

Sheer cliffs lay directly west, so he took the gentler eastern path from the box canyon then circled back into the mountains. A generation ago, many thriving clanholds had nestled in the arroyos and cliffs of these mountains. Eagles nested in the thatch bomas where warriors had once stood guard. Whole clans had bequeathed nothing to the future but their bones. His father would not say how he had survived those years; that generation hoarded food and secrets, but Kavio knew more than his father suspected. It was in the West, in Yellow Bear, Kavio had learned his father was not the hero he'd always believed.

At times, he felt sure someone followed him. He went so far as to double back on his tracks, in case the rovers had friends. He saw no one.

At a major crossroads in the trail, however, a crowd of men and women waited. He growled to himself. He'd sharpened the stone point on the spear he'd won from the rovers, but if it came to real battle, he wasn't properly armed.

This lot looked more deadly than the rovers. For one thing, he knew them and many of them were Tavaedies. It stung to realize that many of those standing there to confront him were young men and women of his own generation whom he had considered friends. Even Nilo, the son of Danumoru and Shula.

Kavio refused to show how they had hurt him. Weakness must be concealed; he'd learned that much from his father.

"Well?" he challenged.

"We want to come with you."

This, he hadn't expected. "Are you mad?"

"If the Morvae are going to start exiling Imorvae again, we want to be with you," Nilo said. "If the blooded spear is to come, we're going to be on your side."

The others grunted agreement.

"Don't be fools. There must be no blooded spear, no war. It would rip the tribe apart."

"So you're just going to accept being smoked out of the Labyrinth like a rat?" cried Nilo. "You're just going to let Zumo win? You know that none of us will ever follow him as War Chief!"

"It's too early to say it will come to that."

"His blood flows from the Bone Whistler, and so do his ambitions. He's already got you out of the way!" said Nilo. "With the White Lady under the Curse of Obsidian Mountain and your father growing older, and now you exiled--who else is there to stop him?"

"You going into exile with me won't help," said Kavio.

Nilo exchanged glances with some of the others. "It will--if we go to the Yellow Bear tribehold to raise an army against him. There are many of our people still living there who would follow us, who would follow you, Kavio. You could return in a year's time with Tavaedies and warriors at your back! We could finally wipe out--"

"Enough!" said Kavio. He inhaled air past his clenched teeth to calm himself. "Enough, Nilo. You mustn't talk like that. You mustn't even think it. I will raise no army to march against my own tribehold. And I will take no one into an exile that I alone earned."

"I guess we all knew you would say that." Nilo shifted his feet. "That's why we brought you journey gifts." He held out his spear. "I want you to have this--no, don't shake your head. You can't refuse, it's a journey gift. We took care to gather nothing from the Labyrinth itself, only outlying holds."

One by one, each one of them pressed close to Kavio to give him gifts. Weapons, clothing, food, water, even jewelry. Overwhelmed, touched, Kavio could only murmur his thanks.

When his friends had dressed him and weighed him down with almost more than he could carry, they finally allowed him to say goodbye.

Nilo clasped his hand, then hugged him. He said in Kavio's ear, "But you are going to the Yellow Bear tribehold, aren't you, Kavio?"

"Perhaps."

Nilo smiled, satisfied with that. "Whatever you do there, we will be waiting for you when you get back. We have no doubt you will be back. And then the blooded spear will be loosed, whether any of us like it or not."

#### Kavio

Kavio camped alone, as before, in much greater comfort, but with even less peace of mind. Nilo and the others had meant to encourage him to come back to the Labyrinth. Instead, the disturbing conversation made Kavio wonder--if his return to the Labyrinth would ignite a civil war, maybe the best thing he could do would be to stay away. So much for the freedom of exile. His responsibilities trailed him like spies.

Perhaps actual spies trailed him as well. He again heard a rustle nearby, a subtle crackling in the leaves that made him tense. Maybe Nilo, or some other would-be ally, still wanted to follow him into exile. Or maybe some would-be enemy wanted to make certain he would never return.

Kavio climbed higher into the mountains. The peaks met like clapped hands to divide the rains of the world in half. All waters of the eastern fingers cascaded into a drought-dry landscape of sandstone phantasmagoria--stone rainbows, stone islands, stone waves, striated stone flavors of pepper and cayenne. All the waters to the other side flowed west, through terrain sweetened by late summer storms, down, gently down through valleys of oak and golden poppy, down, gently down to coastal forests and the sea.

In the mountains, however, autumn had already given way to winter, and he found the pass already thick with snow, where he sacrificed a night and a day to lay a trap. He had to choose his spot, plan his moves against possible countermoves, dance a spell without making it obvious to any hypothetical observers what he was doing. The crisp powder proved a convenient medium for false footprints. By the next nightfall, he was ready. He cast his prepared illusion around a log to make it look like his sleeping form, and then he doubled back over his trail, climbed a tree, and watched his own camp.

The moon rose with no sign of any intruder. Once he heard scritching in the tree where he waited and looked up into the stare of a snow snake, camouflaged like a fall of snow on the branch. Their venom was quite lethal, he recalled. He glared at it until it slithered away to find its own damn tree. He took this living echo of his journey omen as a sign he wasn't just trying to catch an enemy who existed only in his paranoid imagination.

Then, close to midnight, he heard a twig snap below his tree.

Two masked Tavaedies crept into position, and, after exchanging a silent nod, rushed to hack apart the log he'd left in his sleeping roll. They cussed like drunks when they discovered they'd dulled their flint axes for no reason. In the dark, he couldn't see their tribal marks, and might not have been able to guess in any case, since they both wore furs against the cold. He shadowed them back to their camp, a neat affair of two leather tents and seven canoes. The snow gave way to the ice-choked grasses of a frozen river. The ice was unbroken, and the grass tall enough to offer cover, so he followed cautiously, but something nagged him. Two men had attacked his sleeping roll, but there were seven boats.

Five more men cracked out of the ice in a circle around Kavio. Human, not fae. He couldn't tell their tribe. Lathered with lard for warmth, camouflaged by mud and rushes, they were clumps of living marsh. They'd been crouching under a layer of ice no thicker than flatbread, breathing through reeds, waiting to spring their trap. Nets weighted with rocks dragged Kavio down while the men cudgeled his back. The blows brought agony without the solace of oblivion --the warriors knew their art, and steered their blows away from his head, aiming to hurt and subdue, not kill--yet. They tied his hands and feet, yanked his hair to expose his neck.

A mountain of muscle tattooed on both arms and both cheeks loomed over Kavio.

"The death blow is mine, blame or fame. You are all witness," the leader barked at his men. They grunted back.

This man knows who I am. Unfortunately, their acquaintance was not mutual.

"I know why you plan to kill me," Kavio announced. Bold lies worked best. "But just the opposite is true."

The leader shot a beefy hand out to grip Kavio's neck. "Don't waste my time."

"Let me prove it."

"How?"

Good question. Kavio would bet his mother's goat and toss bones the big man and his sept of disciplined warriors weren't petty bandits. The big man fought for kin and glory, but whose? What was his rank? Too good to be a mere sept leader, too far in the wilderness to be a War Chief. A war leader, then.

"Take me to your War Chief and let him decide after he hears my proposal," Kavio dared him.

"Why should I waste War Chief Nargono's ears on your begging?"

Nargono was War Chief of the Blue Waters tribe, once an ally of Rainbow Labyrinth, now one of his father's bitter foes. To be fair, his father had a knack for embittering foes.

"Did you know my own father once gave me as a slave to the War Chief of Yellow Bear?" Kavio asked. "Yellow Bear--are they friends of yours?"

The big man glared at him through narrowed eyes. Whatever he saw, it bought Kavio another day of life. "Dump him in the boat."

"Gag him, Rthan?" asked a warrior.

Kavio trotted the name through his memory, but it didn't sound familiar.

"No, I want him to talk." Rthan unclenched Kavio's throat one finger at a time.

Chapter Three

## Doll

#### Brena

Before dawn, the clanhold of Sycamore Stands already throbbed with the sounds of women pounding nuts. The astringent smell of acorn drifted from the leeching ditches between the clay domed huts. Once Zavaedi Brena made certain her snoopy neighbor, Auntie Ula, was not following her, she urged her two daughters, Gwena and Gwenika, past the clanhold stockade, down the embankment, to a spot hidden by sycamore trees. They did this every morning, yet every morning Brena had to battle all over again to force them to move, as if it were the first time.

Gwena, the oldest, spent an inordinate amount of time combing her hair. On the way to the woods, she craned her neck to attract the attention of young men burning brush for gardens. Several of the hooligans smiled at her like idiots, until they saw Brena and hastened back to work.

Gwenika, younger by two years, started her whining earlier than usual. "Do I have to practice today?"

"Yes. You have to practice every day."

"But I'm feeling very dizzy this morning."

"Hrmf." Brena still smarted from her cousin Ula's admonishments last night. For fifteen years Ula had failed to have children of her own, but she insisted on lecturing those who did. "You're too soft on the girls, that's why the little one is so lazy. A good mother wouldn't put up with that." In the next breath, Auntie Ula went on to say, "And why do you push those girls so hard? It isn't natural for a mother to put so much pressure on her daughters to become Tavaedies. What's wrong if they just want to be wives and mothers?"

Brena wanted to shake her. _Well, which is it? Am I an unfit mother because I'm too soft on them or an unfit mother because I'm too hard on them?_ She already knew the answer. She couldn't win either way. A woman, even a Zavaedi, had no business raising a family without a man, and Brena had made it clear to the whole clanhold years ago that one husband had left her bitter enough for a lifetime. The last thing she needed was another man in her life.

_And if my girls become Tavaedies, they won't be dependent on a having a husband to tend their fields either._ After her husband died, what would have been her lot if she had not been a member of the secret society, able to earn gifts from the community by her own skills? With one hungry babe toddling at her feet and a belly full of a babe to come...she shuddered at the memory. It had been hard enough as it was, returning to the troop after she'd quit to raise her family.

She checked the clearing again to assure they had privacy, then clapped her hands to retrieve her daughters' errant attention. "Today, girls, I want to see you walk through the Badger and Deer Positions, in both the Still and Moving forms."

"Yes, Mama," they chimed. Warblers chirped overhead.

"Begin girls!" commanded Tavaedi Brena. "Deer Leaps, from Still to Moving."

Gwena flawlessly performed the steps several times. Gwenika, however, slumped through the forms with limp arms. She kicked at the dry leaves on the ground, then bent to pick up one of the spiky sycamore balls that littered the dust of the clearing.

"Can we dance somewhere else? These keep poking my feet."

"No," said Brena. "This is the safest place. I don't want anyone spying on us."

"How can you expect me to dance with poked feet?"

"Gwenika." Every day it was some new complaint. _Maybe Auntie Ula is right. I must have done something wrong with this one._

"Besides, my head is spinning. I'm feeling dizzy again."

"Gwenika, I've told you--"

"Also, I'm suffering from fatigue. And my heart is beating more rapidly than usual."

"Your heart is _supposed_ to be beating more rapidly. You're exercising."

"Yes, but my face is pale and my lips and fingertips are white. See?" Gwenika held out her hand. "I recognize the symptoms from your Healing stories. I think the fae have hexed me with Feeble Blood Lack. Can I sit down?"

Beside her, Gwena rolled her eyes.

"The fae have not hexed you," said Brena. "No one has hexed you. You're just not trying. Let's start that again. Gwena, good job, but keep your toes pointed in the leap. Gwenika, your leap looked like a frog, not a doe. Copy your sister."

"I've been bleeding in unspeakable places for no reason," Gwenika said.

At that, Brena swiveled her head and focused the brunt of her attention on Gwenika. For the first time, she noticed her younger daughter's slightly swelling chest and widening hips. _Oh no. It's too soon. Where have the years gone? Yesterday, you were still my baby. Today . . ._

Half encouraged, half disconcerted, Gwenika said, "I think the bleeding is causing Feeble Blood Lack."

"You might be right," said Brena.

"I might?"

"You should sit down and just watch for a while."

"So that means that the fae are hexing me?"

"No." Brena pulled her hand through her hair. "It means that you, like your sister, have already had your first moonblood. It means I am running out of time to teach you everything I can before the Initiation." She paced the clearing and gestured at the sycamore trees. "So little time left! These girls are still not ready!"

_Or is it that I'm not ready for them to be ready?_

"We're trying to learn as fast as we can, Mama," said Gwena.

"Aren't we supposed to wait until Initiation to learn all the secret dances anyway?" Gwenika asked.

"Don't let nonsense fall out of your mouth." Brena scowled at what trouble Auntie Ula could cause if she had the idea that Brena was actually teaching the dances themselves. "I haven't taught you any tama. I've taught you the basic steps, the hand gestures and the foot positions, the flips, the turns and the leaps. Believe me, without knowing those, you would never pass the Testing. And you also better believe that all Tavaedies teach their children these things. Why do you think that the honor of belonging to the secret society tends to stay in families?

"It isn't forbidden for me to teach you what I do, as long as you're still children. But once you are initiated, I will not be allowed to teach you any more. If you fail the Test, that's it, that's your last chance. Do you understand why it's so important that you pay attention to everything I tell you now?"

"Yes, Mama," both girls said in unison.

"Good." Brena drew a deep breath. She put her hands on her hips. "Let's begin again. Gwena, start with your feet in position--"

"But Mama!" said Gwenika.

With a toe tapping in annoyance, "Yes, Gwenika?"

"Gramma says that the best cure for anemia is eggs. Should I look for birds eggs?"

"Did nothing I said mean anything to you? You must practice, girl, practice!"

"But Mama, you said yourself, I'm sick..."

"Are you really going to go find eggs?"

"Of course."

"Not just go play in the woods?"

"Mama." Gwenika looked the model of wounded innocence.

"Fa! Go, then. Find eggs. Take them to your Gramma. I'm sure she'll be glad to prepare them for you." By mercy, she coddles you. Meanwhile, your sister will stay and practice. At least one of you will not fail her family honor. Go!"

Gwenika scrambled away.

No sooner had Gwenika departed, however, than a niggling suspicion began to plague Brena. "Stay here," she told her oldest daughter Gwena. "Keep going over the Deer Leaps until I return."

"Yes, Mama."

It did not take Brena long to find her younger daughter. Gwenika was climbing a low leaning sycamore tree with fist-sized nest built on a horizontal limb thirty-five feet above the ground. Brena was surprised. Maybe she really is after eggs. She recognized the nest as that of a sycamore warbler. The interior of the nest would be lined with last year's sycamore balls.

When the girls had been younger, Brena had walked with them in the woods, holding up a feather or a leaf, challenging them to guess the name of the bird or tree it belonged to. Brena's own mother had used the same technique of those guessing games to pass on the shape of every bird, tree and herb in the woods.

Gwenika apparently hadn't noticed her. The girl reached the nest. She reached into it--but not to remove something, to deposit something.

_Eeeep._

Brena heard the tiny cry.

"There you are, little lost one," Gwenika cooed. "Safe back at home."

The eggs in that nest had already hatched, and one of the baby birds must have fallen out. Gwenika had helped one of the chicks back into the nest.

Brena shook her head. _She'll learn soon enough that good deeds are repaid with cruelty, sure as offering food to a wolf only leads to lost fingers._ Nonetheless, she turned to leave without saying anything to her daughter. Brena didn't have the heart to yell at her for saving the baby bird instead of practicing.

Suddenly, Gwenika screamed. Brena ran back to the tree.

An immense, shaggy blond bear, wounded by an arrow and nursing its bad paw, had crashed through the underbrush and now stood between Brena and her daughter.

#### Brena

Brena stared at the bear, torn between fear and awe. Her tribe used bear hides for rugs and hangings, for door curtains and room dividers, so she knew that bears were large, but she had never encountered one in person. Those lifeless skins hadn't prepared her for the immensity of a live bear. As large as an aurochs bull, but with sharp teeth, the bear had thick honey colored fur that darkened to cinnamon around its haunches. Black ooze dripped from the arrow wound in its hind leg.

"Girls," Brena said, "Walk until you are out of sight, then find your sister and run to the clanhold as fast as you can."

"But Mama, what about you?"

"Go."

For once, to her relief, Gwenika did as she was told and ran away through the woods.

Slung over her shoulder, Brena wore a bark fiber sack where she kept a number of useful things: herbs, a water skin, a rock-like lump of sugar, another of salt, various elixirs in stoppered jars no bigger than a finger.

"I've helped many wounded animals," she said. She lowered her body to a crouch, with her arms at her sides, as unthreatening as she could make herself. "I can take out the arrow for you and staunch the bleeding."

The bear shook its head, as if it understood her.

"I know what you are," added Brena. "I know why you approached my daughters. But if you want help, you'll have to come to me. I won't let you subvert them with your faery wiles."

"Stay away, human," growled the bear. She had a low, but unmistakably feminine voice. "I'm not so weak yet that I can't still kill you."

Bears did not talk. Faeries did. "I knew it. You are a Brundorfae."

The bear shuddered and tried to back away. Instead, she collapsed. Another spasm rippled through the beast's body and she howled, in terrible pain.

"Let me help you," said Brena. "I have herbs. Medicines."

"I don't want your damn help!" said the she-bear faery. Dry leaves crackled under her thrashing body.

"Then why did you approach us?"

"Didn't think you could see me," wheezed the bear. "Human young see us, but human olds mostly ignore us."

"Well, this human 'old' sees right through you, faery bear," said Brena. "I know why faeries prey on virgins. Once a woman has been screwed by a man, she's not naïve enough to trust your ilk either."

The bear made an odd snuffling sound. Almost like chuckles. At the end, however, the sound turned into another roar of pain, and the bear again twisted in a futile attempt to bat away the arrow.

"Are you going to let me help you or not?" asked Brena.

"No! I told you to leave me alone!"

Brena inched forward in small steps. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure the bear could hear it. A bear was still a bear, and the fact that it was a faery bear only made the situation more dangerous. Once she reached the bear's side, she knelt and examined the puncture. The bear writhed in pain, too weak to stop her.

Brena tried to remember everything her mother had taught her about war wounds. Beware the barb. The arrowhead will want to stay under the blanket of flesh to continue its misdeeds. "I'm going to have to cut it out. It will hurt, I'm sorry--"

"Just leave!" ordered the bear, showing her canines. "It's poison, it will take your life."

Brena took out a stone knife from her satchel. Though she worked as quickly as possible, the bear still shuddered in pain when she cut out the arrowhead. Brena forced herself not to flinch or pause.

The she-bear groaned.

The arrow, when it finally emerged whole, was black, both shaft and fletch, with no clan markings. The obsidian tip gleamed like a wicked smile. Brena took care not to touch it. She wrapped it in a leather oilskin.

The bear still bled, but the removal of the arrow restored her to greater strength. She was able to rise and shake out her fur. She stood up on her back legs, tall as a totem pole, towering over Brena. Her strange yellow eyes glittered with anger.

"I suppose you think you've earned my eternal gratitude and are now entitled to wish for wealth and love and luck and power." The bear snorted in derision. "But you've only removed the weapon, you haven't healed the wound. The wound cannot truly heal unless that arrow takes a human life. Will you kill someone for me?"

Brena stepped back. "I tried to help you, and you're demanding a _mariah_?"

"You humans kill one another all the time," the bear said. "You have two daughters. Do you really need both?"

"Stay away from them, faery!"

"You brought this on yourself," snapped the bear. "I never asked for your help. I begged you to leave. The arrow demands death. An immortal can't quench the arrow's thirst. By taking it from my flesh, you've taken the responsibility of providing a human sacrifice. If you find a mariah for me, I will be fully healed. If you don't, I will live in torment. I am at your mercy."

"I won't kill for you."

"I will never force you to," growled the bear. "I didn't want to foist this choice on you. Despite what you think of the fae, we are not your real enemies. The wound is not mine alone. There is a wound in the world."

A crow cawed. The bear shouldered her aside and lumbered away, unevenly, into the woods.

#### Dindi

Tamio recovered his wits most swiftly, in time to pull Dindi off the enemy.

"Dindi! Stop!" shouted Tamio. "That's my mother's brother Abiono!"

Dindi stopped struggling.

Coughing and huffing, the leader of the "enemy" Tavaedies removed his mask, revealing Abiono, Zavaedi of their own Tavaedi troop. The other Tavaedies removed their masks too, and all were men and women from the Corn Hills.

She saw now that the half-dozen Tavaedies and two dozen boys and girls stood on a forested cliff buff with a view of the sea on the far horizon. Pale morning light flooded a lovely expanse of land below them, meadows pimpled by artificial hills. Autumn tinted the fields and trees shades of citron and cinnamon. At the top of each man-made hill, a log stockade enclosed dome shaped houses. Cold tingles skipped down her back when she considered how close she had come to running off that cliff during her blind escape attempt.

"Abiono! Did you rescue us already?" Hadi asked. He rubbed his eyes.

"No, idiot," Tamio said, giving Hadi a disgusted look. "Don't you get it? The mock kidnapping is part of Initiation. Isn't it, Uncle?"

"Yes." Abiono winced as he adjusted his costume. "Learning to face fear is an important part of becoming an adult."

A babble of questions and exclamations followed. Hadi kept repeating, "So we aren't slaves?" as though he didn't dare believe it yet. Jensi wanted to know if they could bathe now. Kemla declared, "Fa! I knew the truth all along. Your goat-headedness had better not have ruined our chance at Initiation, Dindi."

Dindi burned with an all too familiar feeling of shame and frustration. How did she always mean to do right and still go so wrong? It didn't seem fair she violated a taboo even when trying to defend herself and others from becoming human sacrifices.

"It's taboo to reveal too soon the true nature of your capture. However, since you all know now, thanks to Dindi,"--Abiono heaved a sigh in her general direction--"We may as well distribute the totems. We would have soon in any case. We will be traveling to the Yellow Bear tribehold for your Initiation."

"What?" Tamio sounded outraged. "Why go to outtribesmen?"

"Once we would have taken you to the ancestral tribehold of our own people, the Rainbow Labyrinth," said Abiono. "But a generation ago, the Bone Whistler took over there and forbade the practice of Many-Banded magic, Imorvae magic. Those of us who were of the age of Initiation had to go elsewhere for our testing and training. I myself went to live with the Purple Thunder tribe. A few years later the three clans in the Corn Hills made a permanent agreement to bring our Initiates to be tested along with the youth of our allies in the Yellow Bear tribe. We have kept that agreement ever since, even after we heard of the fall of the Bone Whistler. Remember as we travel to the place of Initiation, that we represent not just our clan, and not just our clan-klatch, but our whole tribe. It is we who are the outtribesfolk here. Walk with honor."

Abiono stared out to sea. He cleared his throat. "Many other secrets you will all learn as you become men and women. Though there are also secrets you will only learn if you become Tavaedies. Now." He smiled slightly. "We will not let you pass through the lands of outtribesmen as naked as pigs. Look inside your baskets."

Blushes passed all around. They had grown so used to it that they'd forgotten their nakedness. Girls and boys instinctively edged away from one another. They unwove the cords that fastened down the top flaps of the baskets.

"I knew it," said Hadi, pulling out a number of flint arrowheads, axeheads and spearheads from his basket. "I have been carrying rocks."

The first thing Dindi saw when she opened her basket was a ball of fur, who stretched and yawned, entirely pleased with himself.

"Puddlepaws, how did you hitch a ride?" She scooped up the kitten, scratched his head until he purred, then set him aside. He had been sleeping on a long strip of woven cloth, mostly white, but banded in maze-like patterns of purple, blue, yellow, green, red and orange. Below that, she found tools of chert and bone, wrapped in grass--awls, spoons, loom weights and scrappers.

"Your clans will have provided each of you with your Birthright," said Abiono. "You should find guest gifts to give to our hosts, the cloth wrap of an Initiate--I'll show you how to wrap it--a dancing costume, and your totem."

Dindi clothed herself again, in the single piece wrap, just as Abiono instructed. Most of the other Initiates did the same. They helped paint themselves. The symbols included black paint across their eyes to represent blindfolds and red paint around their wrists to represent ropes. Then they all dived back into their carrying baskets, to see what other treasures they could find.

Grass stuffing separated the items in the basket. Dindi kept digging until she found a beautiful beaded costume. Guessing by the exclamations from the others, they found the same. Expensive and ancient, the formal garments were dyed white and embroidered with colored beads and clan markings. Dindi's dress included a slit skirt, a chest band, numerous hoop necklaces, and a cape and headdress of swan feathers.

"What's this?" demanded Tamio routing through his own basket. "I don't need a girl's toy!"

"The dolls are not toys. The doll is the totem of your soul, made for you in your first seven days of life," said Abiono. "It will be buried with you when you die. It is precious and you must not lose it. You will need it for the Initiation ceremony. Before you become men and women, you must pass the tests we give you. If you pass, you receive a new totem in addition to your dolls. Men will be given a pestle, and women a mortar. Those chosen as Tavaedies will be given a Windwheel."

"Oh, mine is beautiful!" exclaimed Kemla. She held up a carved, painted doll made from a corncob. Hers had real horsehair braids and wore a vermillion dress embroidered with luxurious amber and gold beads.

Tamio's totem doll wore a purple shoulder blanket and held a diminutive riding hoop. It was quite cute. Hadi's had a little spear and a rather crookedly painted smile. Jensi's totem doll had corn silk braids and a bone bead dress, not as polished as Kemla's, but it carried an adorable miniature water jar on its head.

Dindi had to dig underneath the formal attire before she found something wrapped carefully in dried grass. Her corncob doll. It looked old, tattered and half rotted. The paint had been worn down so much that the face was just a blank. Holes for roots testified that the doll had once had horsehair, but now it looked bald. The torn dress had no beads left either. This was not why she dropped it as though burned.

The doll flashed in Dindi's hand. For one translucent moment, every detail, the blades of grass at her feet, the sun glinting off the distant sea, sprang into vivid relief. Dindi felt she had taken off a blindfold and seen a world of another, brighter sun. The effulgence drove her to her knees, and rushed up to entangle her in another mind, another place, another time.

#### Vessia

A woman opened her eyes to find herself in a field at dawn. Two people stood before her, an old man and an old woman. They wept and smiled at the same time, and touched her, possessively, as if they owned her, gently, as if they feared her. She did not know them. They tried to look into her face, but she stared past them. They did not matter to her one way or another. The sunlight as it filtered through the leaves, now, that she found strange and wondrous.

When they tried to embrace her, she screamed. Her scream was not one of terror or rage, simply a noise, a discomfort to match the discomfort of their touch, and when their touch withdrew, so ended the scream. After that, her face went still again, as if nothing had happened, and she stared past them, to gaze upon the wonder of the shifting leaves.

They pulled back, still crying, still smiling, still trying to touch her as much as she would allow.

"Daughter," they called her, over and over, now a question, now a statement. "You are our daughter"--as if they didn't believe it themselves, but would speak hope into truth.

"You are our daughter," she repeated. Her words pleased them, not quite.

The field meant nothing to her. The couple meant nothing to her. So it meant nothing to her when the couple led her away from the field. Gradually, however, a new emotion did bloom a little in her--curiosity. The couple led her to a domed house of baked clay, with a tiny door at the top of a ladder, so tiny she had to crawl through it. Inside the dome, the round room was spacious, with a hole in the high roof to let in light and air. Rugs woven with patterns covered the clay floor. Patterns of light and shadow crisscrossed chevrons and zigzags on the rugs, creating complexities within complexities. It was beautiful. And she was content with that.

A wildness pulsed inside her, this 'daughter' whom they called 'Vessia.' She could not stay inside for long periods of time. Outside, she would run, as if searching, and then fling herself headlong into the wind, flipping and twisting to catch the clouds. Instead, the hard ground always claimed her. The old couple loved to watch her, and could do so endlessly, the way one could look again and again at a waterfall, or the sun setting over the ocean, or a baby sleeping, and never tire or cease to amaze at it. If the river itself jumped out of its bed to leap and twirl it would have astonished them no less. Yet her runs and leaps frightened them too, the way that coming face to face with a wild cat or a forest fire fascinates and terrifies. See how she dances, they whispered when they thought she was not listening, never predictable, never repeating herself.

She was not trying to dance. She was trying to fly.

They gave her food, water, a place to sleep. They tried to meet her eyes, but she had no interest in looking at them. They tried to hug her, sometimes, and she would shrug them away, or screech if they pressed her. They clothed her, but she simply removed the garments if they itched. She loved to look at cloth while it was still on the loom, however. Beauty moved her. If she found beauty, for hours at a time it would occupy her. Lights, patterns, colors, movements. Once, the old woman set up the loom before going to bed, and in the morning, found that Vessia had completed the entire weave, a perfect copy of one of the rugs upon the floor.

"You finished the whole thing in one night!" exclaimed the old woman. "And without a single mistake! You are amazing!"

"You are amazing," Vessia repeated without inflection and without looking at her.

After that, the old couple let her weave often. Other simple chores they tried to encourage, however, did not work so well. She simply stared at the needle they gave her to sew the cloth she'd woven into garments. In the end, the old woman folded and sewed the garments for her, and it was the first dress that she would abide without removing.

As seasons passed, the old couple wizened like grapes shrinking to raisons, but she did not change. The old couple finally decided it was safe to introduce her to other people. They lived alone in the forest, in their beehive dome house, but there were other domes, other houses, closer together, past the woods, beside a brook. "Our clan," they told her.

"They will ask why we haven't shown anyone our daughter before," said Old Woman.

"No," said Old Man. "Once they see her, they will think they know why."

"But she is beautiful," said Old Woman.

"Too beautiful," he said. "Too strange."

Vessia went out among the other people, though it was hard for her. They stared at her, spoke loudly to her, tried to touch her, told her all the things she couldn't, shouldn't, mustn't do. She liked market day--she liked to pick up the objects sitting on blankets and play with them. That made the women who guarded the blankets angry. Old Woman told her, "A bargain has two sides," and gave her small beads of gold to leave in place of the objects she picked up.

Vessia could not fly, but she could dance, and other people began to notice. Not only did people in the clanhold watch her dance, they could not, it seemed, look away if she started dancing in front of them. This made the old couple nervous.

"If people ask, you must tell them you are a Tavaedi," they told her. "You must tell them you are our daughter, and a Tavaedi like us. The Corn Maiden."

Once a man, younger than Old Man, who wore a golden torque about his neck and gold bands on his arms, visited on market day. He saw her dance. Afterward, he came close to her, but did not touch her.

"I love you," he said and many similar things. "Don't tell me no."

"Why would I tell you no?" she asked. She didn't like it when people told her no.

"Then I will go to your parents tonight," he said.

He arrived at the clay dome house, just as he'd promised. However, he and Old Man exchanged loud words.

"She loves me," shouted Young Man.

"She doesn't understand love," said Old Man. "You don't understand her."

"Do you think I can't tell where she came from?" asked Young Man. "She's not your daughter!"

They bowed their heads, accepting his words, afraid. "Who do you think she is?"

"She is obviously an Imorvae exile from the Rainbow Labyrinth. She suffered some terrible hurt, and lost her mind. You took her in, you cared for her. I know your history. You tried to have children of your own for many years, and couldn't conceive. So you adopted this beautiful waif as your own child."

Old Man and Old Woman raised their eyebrows. They still looked cautious, but they no longer stank so much of fear. Vessia knew that Young Man had not guessed right. His words did not fit the whole Pattern, only the small pieces of the Pattern that he could see. Yet, to her confusion, they did not correct him.

"Though I wear the gold bangles of your tribe, I am not one of you," he continued. "I also am an exile from the Rainbow Labyrinth. The Bone Whistler killed my parents because, like me, they were Imorvae. I fled here, and took work as a healer to the War Chief in Yellow Bear tribehold. I saved his life after a battle, and he rewarded with me with wealth and place. But I wish to marry a girl from my own tribe."

"I'm sorry," said Old Man. "It cannot be."

Young Man frowned. "I could heal her."

"Nothing can heal her, because she is not broken. She is what she is."

Young Man begged, "Vessia, Vessia, please, let me love you."

"What does that mean?" she wondered aloud.

Wetness streaked the cheeks of Young Man, and he left with no further words.

Long after, she puzzled over her many names. Daughter. Vessia. The Corn Maiden. Yet when she reached inside herself she encountered no solid sense of self, only mist and fog. _I am missing myself,_ she realized. _I am a husk hungry for my core._

"Who am I?" she asked the old couple one day. "Who are you? Where did I come from? Why am I here? I am not like other daughters. Am I an 'exile', as Young Man said?"

"Danumoro the Herb Dancer? The healer? Vessia, were we wrong? Do you love him?"

She shrugged. They looked disappointed. Why? There was still so much she could not grasp.

"He was wrong and right," Old Woman said. "You are not an exile. But you are not our blood daughter either. You are unique."

"Once we did a favor for the White Lady," said Old Man. "She asked us how she could pay her debt, and we told her we wanted for nothing, except a child, which she could not give us. She told us we would have a daughter, and gave us this." He reached up to a jar tucked in the rafters of the house. From this he pulled a strange corncob doll. "The next day, we found you."

Vessia took the doll. It had no face. It was blank, like she was. "A bargain has two sides. What did the Lady ask of you?"

"Only that we protect you," said Old Woman. "And--"

"Which we have tried to do," interrupted Old Man. He shook his head at Old Woman. She placed her hand on his leg.

"And," finished Old Woman, "That we let you go when you were ready. Are you ready, Vessia?"

"Yes," said Vessia. She did not know what she would do, or where she would go, but she knew she had to find the missing pieces of the Pattern. Tears streaked Old Woman's face. "You see, you really are our daughter. Only children can please their parents by leaving, and at the same time, so break their hearts."

#### Dindi

Excess light cleared. Dindi stared upward at tree branches against vivid blue sky. She rolled away, gasping. The corncob doll had fallen into the grass beside her. Puddlepaws hissed at it and backed away, tail and fur spiked.

_You did this,_ Dindi accused it silently.

The doll stared facelessly back at her.

Laughter roused Dindi from her daze. Kemla and a few other girls were pointing and sniggering at her. Jensi and Hadi knelt by her side, concerned.

"Dindi, what happened?" Jensi asked.

The confusion--and, in Kemla's case, derision--in their faces told Dindi they had not seen the light, or the Vision. The doll had magic, which, like the fae, only she could see. Dindi knew better than to speak of seeing of the fae, and so she pressed her lips together and said nothing about the Vision either.

"It's been a difficult journey," Abiono told her, not without sympathy. "But soon we will meet up with allies. Until then, we must conserve our food and water. Remember as we travel to the place of Initiation, that we represent not just our clan, and not just our clan-klatch, but our whole tribe," warned Abiono. "And it is we who are the outtribesfolk here. Walk with honor."

#### Rthan

Rthan's canoe was a bark boat shaped like folded hands, light enough for a warrior to carry on his back during portage, long enough to hold three while rowing. Or, in this case, Rthan, his prisoner, and two packs of supplies.

They'd been paddling downstream without stopping for meals, but they'd come to the first of several cataracts soon, and Rthan knew they needed to eat before they portaged. Past the cataract, they'd be in Yellow Bear territory.

Rthan signaled the others and the seven canoes pulled into a still pool in the river, guarded from sight by drooping willows. None of the warriors left their boats, only anchored their paddles through the handle of the canoe post-down in the mud.

The captive tried to lift his head over the edge of the kayak to see where they were. Rthan slapped him back down to the bottom of the boat. The boy endured the latest bruise without speaking, though his wary gaze locked on Rthan.

Rthan rubbed his thumb over the boy's purpling jaw. "You shave, how often? Your mother shouldn't have let you out of the clanhold until you stopped nursing."

The boy jerked his chin away, about the only movement he could make, since he was netted claw to tail like a lobster in a trap. Rthan wondered how much of Kavio's reputation wasn't simply borrowed from his father. The boy didn't look particularly intimidating. True, his little trick might have fooled Rthan's men if the Blue Lady hadn't tipped him off, but Kavio struck him as just another dryfoot, more mouth than meat.

Speaking of meat, none of them had eaten in several days. In his oiled leather pack, Rthan pulled out a treat he'd been saving the whole trip. His mouth watered just peeling away the gut he'd wrapped it in.

Kavio recoiled. "That is foul!"

"Did crabs eat your nostrils? This is hakarl!"

"Kill me now, but do not make me eat that."

"I wasn't about to let you eat it." Rthan cradled his hakarl. "I hunted the poison shark myself, buried it in the gravel by my house and waited six months for it to rot just right."

"Most of us prefer food which doesn't involve the words 'poison', 'gravel' or 'rot'."

"Hakarl was given to our tribe's first War Chief Hathan by the Shark Lord."

"A botched assassination attempt, as I recall."

"No!" Rthan waved the fermented meat in front of Kavio's wrinkled nose. "It was the first sacrifice. The human warrior Hathan befriended the Merfae. One year, during a famine, Hathan's family was on the verge of starvation, so he decided to trick his faery friend. He proposed they throw bones and whichever tossed the knuckle would kill himself to feed the other. Hathan cheated and gave the Shark Lord a pouch with nothing but knuckle bones, so the faery lord allowed Hathan to kill him, bury him and then eat him. However, the next dawn, the Shark Lord returned to life, and told him, 'I let you kill me and eat me, now you must do the same for me.' Hathan had no choice but to agree to pay the deathdebt. Just then his daughter Mariah ran up and..."

Rthan stopped speaking. He no longer had a taste for either banter or hakarl.

Kavio caught his mood at once. "She threw herself to the shark in place of her father." He added quietly, "You have tattoos on both cheeks--you're married. Do you have any children, Rthan?"

Rthan punched Kavio across the jaw. Kavio spit blood into the brine that pooled in the boat bottom.

Rthan cracked his knuckles. "So what was it you wanted to tell Nargano? Before you try to convince me you would betray your father, I think it's fair to let you know there's nothing I hate worse than a man who turns against his own blood."

"Nargano will tell you after I've told him."

Rthan hit him again, harder. "I don't bite hooks. I'm going to kill you unless you give me one good reason not to, and it better be more than that you're willing to switch sides and slice bellies for us. I don't need or want you on our side. I just want you dead."

"Kill me, then." Kavio flicked his tongue over the blood on his lip. "What I have to say goes to Nargano or dies with me."

"Fa!" The boy was bluffing. Time to bone the fish. Rthan wouldn't ask his tribesmen to increase their own risk by dragging a captive all the way across enemy territory. He hefted his knife.

In all his wriggling, Kavio had wedged himself into the curl of the boat, and he used that leverage to kick both legs square into Rthan's chest. Rthan went overboard, found his footing on the river bottom and came up, just in time to have the paddle smack him in the face. Kavio had somehow untied himself. The boy pushed the canoe into the current.

The men in the other boats grabbed their paddles.

"Two men to a boat!" Rthan shouted. "One spout, one fin!"

He jumped into the canoe of his second in command. His men doubled up on the boats without supplies, as they'd often practiced. In each case, the second man crouched behind the man paddling, legs balanced on either side to keep from toppling the craft, while he fired arrows. Rthan had lost his bow with his boat, so he used his second's weapon.

To Rthan's surprise, Kavio had obviously rafted before. He drove his canoe to the white water, and shouted catcalls at the nixies and water sprites to incite them to surge after his boat, pushing it to insane speeds.

"Lady, aide me!" Rthan cried. Beneath his canoe, the water churned and lifted his boat forward on a blast of white water after Kavio. The two boats of his men jostled on the frenzied froth right behind him.

Just when Rthan had been silently giving Kavio credit, the idiot boy steered his boat toward a low hanging tree. At his unnatural speed, the crash would kill him.

Kavio's boat surfed the spray over a rock just before the tree and sailed over the trunk.

The two men in the boat to Rthan's right didn't bounce off the rock at quite the right angle. They hit the tree. Their canoe splintered into pieces, the men themselves careened through the air. The tree caught one, the river the other, but before Rthan could check to see if they'd survived, he and his partner reached the tree too.

"Flip!" Rthan shouted. As one man, they shifted their weight and the boat turned in the water. The bottom scraped under the tree. The boat continued to rotate and they landed upright again, still bucking the rapids.

Kavio leaned back in his boat. He notched Rthan's own bow and shot several arrows in quick succession. The Blue Lady sent a wind that snapped across the river and blew the arrows off course. Kavio shot another volley of arrows, and he must have called upon Red fae Rthan couldn't see, for the arrows burst into flame. The other boat caught fire. Rthan's men dived into the river. But Kavio couldn't shoot again. A wicked run of rocks forced him to turn forward again to steer.

Rthan recognized the rock formation. "Turn to the shore!"

He joined his fin man in paddling. The lower fae were beyond control, even of the Blue Lady, and they wouldn't release their grip on his kayak. Rthan crashed the boat on the rock rather than ride the rapids through the narrows--he and his second both scrambled to climb onto the boulder to dry rock.

From that vantage, they watched Kavio's kayak shoot out of the narrows like an arrow from a bow and arc into free fall over a thousand foot waterfall.

Rthan felt no triumph, only weariness. He still had to find those of his companions who survived, portage the boats they'd left behind down the cliffs and make the rendezvous with War Chief Nargano before the Autumn Equinox.

Blue light flared, and, impossibly, he smelled the ocean. His little girl Meira climbed next to him on the rock.

"He's not dead," said the Blue Lady. "You have to go after him."

"No human could have survived that fall, my Lady, but even if he sprouted wings like a fae lord, I must tend my men first."

"If you ignore my warning, you will suffer."

"Is that a threat?" He frowned. "Or a prophecy?"

"Water rolls downhill to the sea. Is that a threat or a prophecy?"

#### Kavio

In answer to his call, slyphs buffeted Kavio's boat with their zephyr breath, guiding it past the thundering spume at the foot of the falls. The canoe skipped on the water like the rocks he'd thrown at ponds as a boy. Finally, it snuggled into a gentle current.

He looked up at the top of the cataract, but he couldn't see Rthan. Leaning back in the canoe, he let tension drain from his body, though even now he did not relax completely. He wondered how he could remake himself if everywhere he went he kept stumbling upon the vipers left to nest by his father.

Once already he'd underestimated Rthan, he would not do it again. Despite his desire to rest, he forced his canoe to the fast currents, and where there were none, paddled hard. Settlements occurred more thickly with each day he spent on the river, with less no man's land between; the totem poles he passed were engraved with the symbols of three, four, five clans at a time, and the moss growing on the weathered wood testified these clanklatch alliances had stood firm for generations. He was seeing what the Rainbow Labyrinth tribe might have been, if not for the rise of the Bone Whistler and the civil war between the Morvae and the Imorvae. Several times he had to duck warning arrows from warriors in bomas, but at least the closer he got to Yellow Bear tribehold, the less chance he would encounter the Blue Waters tribesmen. Even they would have better sense than to attack the tribehold itself.

Occasionally Kavio saw groups of women rinsing roots and filling water baskets at the river's edge. If the women spotted him, they fled, for a warrior paddling a kayak was not a welcome sight. Outtriber, exile or scout for a war party--he could be up to no good as far as they were concerned.

All the more strange, then, that one afternoon a lone woman standing on the shore caught a glimpse of his canoe and ran toward the river, shouting.

"Hey ho! Hey ho!" She waved both arms. Flaps of loose skin jiggled under her arms and chin, giving the impression of a once nicely plump woman who had eaten too little for too long. Her skirt was ragged too, a shaggy mane of raccoon tails and bark felt tassels that ended in knots. She hid her sagging, wrinkled breasts with necklaces of twisted robes made from the same material. Nothing else. Not a single bangle of gold, which was odd for Yellow Bear. The womenfolk here treasured their gold more than their children.

"Stranger, hey ho! Come nigh, I wish you no harm!"

His first thought was that she was a hexer, and a cannibal. Nonetheless, his curiosity overcame his sense, and he paddled his canoe to the shore. The mud was slick and carpeted green with fuzz that tickled his bare feet.

"Are you a Tavaedi?" she asked. Up close, he could smell the fetid rot from her mouth.

"I am an exile," he answered cautiously. "I have no tribe or clan."

"I guessed as much already. I don't care, nephew. My need is too great. I saw the glow about you, even from the across the river. Do you dance Yellow? Can you heal?"

She had a small daub of Yellow in her own aura, probably not enough to be a Tavaedi, but enough to recognize magic in others. He deemed it for the best she could not see the other Chromas in his aura.

"I know a few healing dances," he said. Better to understate the case. "What is your need?"

"My son." She tugged on his arm. Her fingers felt like dry sticks. "He is sick. Come to my house and I will give you a ringlet of gold if you can heal him."

Chapter Four

## Hex

#### Dindi

To Dindi's dismay, the distance from the wooded cliffs down and across the lowland fields was greater than it had looked from up above. There were many switchbacks on the way down the hill, and then a long meandering footpath led them through more woodsy areas and cultivated cornfields. Unlike in the Corn Hills, where the clans tilled permanent fields, the Yellow Bear people still practiced swidden agriculture. They burned out an area to be planted for a season or two, then allowed the woods to grow back over it while they moved on to cultivate another spot.

Settlements in the Yellow Bear lands were spaced farther apart than in the Corn Hills, and smaller. Several times over the next several days, they passed clanholds, all of the same peculiar design. The beehive shaped mounds that Dindi had mistaken for houses from the buff were actually steep, artificial hills of much larger dimensions than she had estimated. At the top of each artificial hill, a clay or log pike wall enclosed a dozen or less dome shaped houses. Warriors sat in bomas, crow's nests. These cage-like platforms at the top of tall posts reminded Dindi of larger versions of her rabbit hutch back home. The Yellow Bear people did not seem to have kraals for horses or aurochsen, but goats gamboled everywhere, along with many kinds of fat, waddling birds and peccaries. Also, occasionally Dindi caught the tantalizing smell of smoking fish.

The fae here were strange too, though not unfriendly. Brownies rode on the backs of the birds. Nymphs in flowing gowns dangled from the branches of the trees. Many of them waved at Dindi as she passed, but she scrupulously ignored them.

They snaked along through Yellow Bear territory circuitously at first, in order to avoid trespass whenever they saw a warning totem post. These posts, of wood or stone, featured the tribe's totem on the bottom, a bear standing on its hind legs with one paw raised, the clan marking in the middle, and a rayed disk at the top. Once, they saw a clanhold burning in the distance, mute evidence of war with a neighboring clan.

They did not rest in any of the clanholds, but camped by night in the wilderness near the path, as they had before. The Tavaedis also allowed them each to scrounge the forest for edibles, with the caution to stay in pairs and beware of trespassing directly on the lands of any Yellow Bear clan lands. They had not packed enough food for the whole journey, so they needed to find more as they traveled. The Tavaedies set aside days to send the boys hunting and the girls foraging for food.

Dindi wasn't the only Initiate disappointed to learn they would not see the ocean in the far West. In fact, they had not caught a glimpse of the ocean since they entered the lowlands.

"It's better that we don't go near the ocean," snapped Abiono, in response to Tamio's complaints on this point. "The settlements on the coast are often attacked by Blue Waters tribesmen. Sometimes the vicious thugs even bring their war canoes up the river!"

"Really?" Tamio leaned into this news, enthralled. "Is there any chance they might attack while we're here? A war would be really marvelous!"

"Yellow Bear tribehold is the third largest in Faearth. Blue Waters barbarians aren't foolish enough to attack such a hold when even the Bone Whistler himself did not dare," Abiono said crushingly. "I suggest you worry about passing the Initiation and not go looking for more trouble."

As they neared the tribehold itself, settlements occurred more closely together. When the Tavaedies decided to ask for shelter at one of these, Sycamore Stand, the Initiates had their first chance to look at Yellow Bear tribesfolk up close.

From a distance, Dindi had already seen that they built their holds upon some sort of mound. Sycamore Stand was no different. The travelers descended to the hold from some hills thick with chaparrals. From this vantage, the outline of the artificial earthen mound, raised from the valley floor, showed clearly. It was not a simple round hill, Dindi now saw, but a disk shape with a long extended earth walkway, like a tambourine with a handle. A ditch surrounded the disk. Sharpened stakes prickled the ditch. The only safe approach into the hold, then, was to cross the narrow walkway. Five clumps of dome houses, perhaps a hundred domiciles in all, dotted the flat disk top. The houses looked like beehives or birdhouses. Each was round, domed and plastered white. A tiny hole in the middle of the wall, well above ground level, served as the only entrance. Rope and wood ladders dangled from these window-doors.

Most of the houses were painted along the bottom, patterns of stripes and circles in color pallets dominated by yellow, but graced by occasional touches of blue and orange. Those with the finest and freshest paint had also been crowned with a golden disk on a miniature ladder in the top center of their domes. "The ladder to the sun," Abiono explained the ubiquitous symbol.

Yellow Bear Tavaedies and warriors came out to meet the visitors and escort them across the long neck of earth to the hold. They dressed distinctly from Rainbow Labyrinth tribesfolk. The male Tavaedies here wore billowy knee-length elderbark skirts under immense diamond shaped masks that reached below their waists and far above their heads. The outsized 'eyes' and 'lips' of the diamond-head masks were plated in beaten gold. One Tavaedi wore an immense gold Ladder to the Sun disk above his diamond shaped mask. The female Tavaedies wore longer skirts and complicated crowns of golden beads and bangles formed into prongs, loops and horns.

Yet, to Dindi, the ordinary clanfolk appeared no less outlandish. Matriarchs and maidens wore their hair chopped short, like the cap on an acorn. They swished about in full skirts made from bark rag strips and knotted cords. Patriarchs wore hats mounted with disks, warriors, hats mounted with horns. Gold necklaces and arm torques encircled the necks and limbs of both genders, and a few of the men's disk shaped hats were plated in gold as well. Women wore gold ear rings and nose rings and seashell ankle bracelets that click-clacked when they walked.

The Tavaedies in regalia strode out to meet them, led by a majestic woman in a headdress of gold spangles.

#### Brena

A black crow swoops toward the bear, shedding a feather, which becomes an arrow. A girl is there, with a bow, who unleashes the arrow into the bear, and watches as the whole world melts and dies. A baby's cry. Brena tries to scream but she has no mouth.

There is a wound in the world. _The bear looks right at Brena. Help me heal it._

Brena awakened from the nightmare with her hands digging into her thigh. The fire in the hearth had died to low embers. Her sleeping mat lay on one side of the ovoid, one-room house, her daughters slumbered together on the other side. All of her herbs hung in baskets on pegs on the curved mud wall, forming a nest of sage and chamomile. She breathed in the aroma and forced herself to relax.

Dulled by mud walls, but not damped completely, came the sound of weeping--Ula's younger sister, in the next compound, still sobbing over her miscarriage. The ugly affair with Ula hadn't done anything to set Brena at ease. Ula and her sister had married the same man, because Ula had proven barren. In public, Ula had made a show of welcoming her younger sister's pregnancy. In secret, Ula, who had no magic, made some nasty bargain with the lower fae, who gave her blue cohosh to slip into her sister's acorn stew.

The hexery had been discovered, and Brena, among others, cast stones on the mat to condemn Ula. The Tavaedi society of Sycamore Stands clan gave Ula the usual choice for a witch, to be sacrificed to the fae or given to the Deathsworn.

Brena could not help but think of her nightmare, and how easy it would have been to slip the black arrow into Ula's heart--Ula who was condemned to die anyway--and end the faery's torment. It infuriated Brena to catch herself in these unworthy thoughts. She pushed away the temptation. In any case, Ula chose to be tied to the black obelisk at the edge of the clan lands, to be given to the Deathsworn.

The clan of Sycamore Stands belonged to a clanklatch, a local alliance, of five clans, and did not often suffer attacks from outtribers. However, one morning, not long after Ula's trial, the warriors who manned the bomas - crow's nests built on tall masts - sounded their conch shells. Clanfolk fled their gardens and cornfields to huddle inside the stockade on the top of the hill. Outtribers, an entire band including Tavaedies, had been spotted crossing the totem poles marking the boundary of Sycamore Stands territory. The outtribers approached the earth ramp to the hill, where they left gifts and waited to be invited further. The Sycamore Stands clansfolk observed the newcomers, recognized them, then designated Zavaedi Brena to greet them when the stockade opened.

The Zavaedi of the outtribers bowed his head and spread his arms. He raised his voice for all to hear.

"Sycamore Stand Clan of Yellow Bear Tribe, we trespass without malice upon your hospitality. By your leave, Zavaedi Brena of Sycamore Stand."

"Zavaedi Abiono of Broken Basket of the Rainbow Labyrinth, welcome," she said. "It's been long since we've seen you. How many Initiates do you bring?"

"Seven boys and seven girls, Honored Auntie," said Abiono.

Brena inclined her head. "We also have Initiates to send to the tribehold. I will be escorting them. The Initiates can all travel together."

Native and visiting Tavaedies danced and played rattles and drums to escort the Initiates into the center of the hold, where the hosts prepared a feast for the guests.

Brena felt back in her element overseeing the preparations.

"The friends you chose now will influence the rest of your life," she warned her daughters as they rolled out the flat bread on large rocks. "When I was your age, I neglected the people who could have helped me become a better Tavaedi and only spent time with those I thought were 'amusing'. That was a mistake. They held me back from being as good a dancer as I could have been. I didn't want to humiliate my friends, so I didn't try as hard as I should have."

The memory still irked her. One of her so-called friends later became her husband. Even then, all he'd cared about was that his wife not outshine him.

"But Mama, you became a Zavaedi eventually," said Gwena.

"That's just my point," said Brena. "Not until after your father..." She caught herself. She'd never told the girls the full story. "...died in battle," she revised in mid-sentence, "did I really focus on honing my skills. I don't want you two to make the same mistake. When you reach the tribehold, there will be hundreds of young people. Search for the best dancers and make them your friends. Then you will be encouraged to be the best too. Don't make friends with people who are likely to fail the Testing."

"Well, of course," said Gwena. "Why would we want to spend time with failures?"

"Maybe they might have other qualities besides just being able to dance well," said Gwenika. She cuddled a chipmunk, her latest inseparable pet.

Brena fought the same helplessness that always welled up in her whenever faced with her youngest daughter. _Gwena is tough, like her father, but Gwenika is too much like I used to be. A weakling._

"Maybe I should hold you back until next Initiation." Brena combed her hand through her hair, considering that possibility. "You're too young."

Gwenika brightened. "Yes! I can stay here with my pets and Gramma, while you and Gwena go off for seven moons to the tribehold."

"Never mind." Brena punched another sticky ball of dough on the rock until it was flat. "You're coming."

By noon, Brena saw to it reed mats laden with food were arranged in a square around the performance platform in the center of the dome-shaped houses. Tall structures of a wooden lattice leading to a disk of beaten gold, the Ladder-to-the-Sun symbol of Yellow Bear, surmounted many of the mud-and-dung houses. Brena noted with pride the awe of the Rainbow Labyrinth tribesfolk as they eyed the beaten gold. The Rainbow Labyrinth excelled in many things, but no one surpassed the gold smiths of Yellow Bear.

The two Taveadi societies held an impromptu Vooma, a dance war. They took turns displaying their cleverest tama while the aunties of Sycamore Stand served roasted pigeons, acorn porridge, onions, carrots, celery and rhubarb in addition to corn pishas and corn beer.

"Tama Tama,

Tae Tae,

Vooma Vooma

Tae!"

The chanting and the drums thundered and the Tavaedies flipped and kicked on the plantform. Zavaedi Brena won the Vooma against her counterpart, but Abiono took defeat with good grace. As they returned to the feast, his eyes twinkled and he gestured vaguely toward the gold ornaments and paint she wore which indicated her widowed state.

"You still haven't remarried? Neither have I. My offer stands . . ."

She smiled, despite herself, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. "I remain as flattered as always. But I have no desire for a man to complicate my life."

"I wish you would let go of your grief for your husband, Brena. It won't bring him back."

"It isn't grief," she said. "It's anger. He brought his death on himself. He had no need to join his cousin's clan's war, he just wanted to win glory. He could never forgive me for having a Shining Name when he didn't. But he would have found more glory protecting his own children than swallowing a spear. What good did a Shining Name do for him then?"

Her eyes slid to her daughters. The elder, Gwena, had already attracted the attentions of several of the new Initiates. She laughed and tossed her hair, looking completely at ease and so like her father Brena's breath caught in her throat. The younger, Gwenika, on the other hand, wagged her tongue at one newcomer after another, always with the same result: after a moment or two the other person's smile began to twitch, and her partner abandoned the spot next to her to escape her chatter. Gwenika ended next to the last girl in the line, a pretty but mousy thing who looked twitchy to begin with, certainly not like someone capable of teaching Gwenika to better herself. Brena couldn't say why, and she told herself she was being foolish and unfair, but she took an immediate dislike to the girl. There was something unsettling about her. Brena's mouth thinned to a line.

"Who's that?"

Abiono's sigh held a basketful of untold woes. "That one would be Dindi."

Only then did Brena recognize her from the dream as the girl who had shot the bear and destroyed the world.

#### Dindi

During the feast and dancing, Puddlepaws escaped Dindi's pack. She worried in case the kitten tried to steal foods from the feast mats, but found Puddlepaws preoccupied behind her. Head low to the ground, eyes glowing with intent, small furry rump stuck up in the air, tail lashing, the kitten stalked a scurrying rat.

Puddlepaws pounced and caught the rat, which he didn't know quite what to do with.

A girl swooped down and picked up Puddlepaws. "Fa! Go! Leave her alone! Oh, you poor little thing, are you whole? Did that meanie cat bite you?"

The girl was cradling the rat. No, now Dindi saw it clearly, it wasn't a rat but a chipmunk. Puddlepaws scrambled away and peeked out from behind one of the huts.

"That's my cat," Dindi said. "Don't chase him off, he might get lost."

"He terrified my chipmunk!"

"I'm sure he meant no harm," Dindi said. "He just wanted to eat an arm or two. Maybe a leg."

The girl snorted. In her looks, she was typical of Yellow Bears folk, solid and healthy, with cropped, thick dark hair and sun-warmed skin that shone golden brown. Her dress was beaded with polished acorn caps and quail feathers, and she wore a single gold ring in her nose.

"My name is Gwenika." She coughed and plunked herself down next to Dindi, displacing Jensi, who had been chatting with Yodigo on her other side and not noticed her.

"Hey!" protested Jensi.

"Be careful not to sit too close to me," said Gwenika morosely. "I have Drowned's Man's Lung."

Jensi scooted away. Now Dindi and Gwenika were isolated at the end of the mat.

"Drowned Man's Lung!" said Dindi. Normally, anyone with a contagious, fatal disease such as that was asked to join the Deathsworn rather than risk infecting the rest of her clan.

Gwenika chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. "I may have the wrong diagnosis, I'm still not sure. My symptoms are fever, coughing and chest pain, which could indicate Drowned Man's Lung. But it might also be the Black Boil Plague."

Either possibility seemed quite dreadful to Dindi. Several of her clanfolk--two younger siblings to Jensi and Hadi's mother--had died from disease a few years ago, because Uncle Lobo had angered a troll.

"I'm sorry," said Dindi. "How were you hexed?"

"I'm still not sure. My mother refuses to help. She thinks I'm not really sick."

"Oh," said Dindi. "What does your clan's Healer Tavaedi say?"

"My mother is our clan's Healer."

"Oh."

Dindi didn't know what else to say, but Gwenika talked, and very rapidly. She asked a lot of questions but didn't wait for answers.

"So you have a cat? Where did you find him? What do you feed him? Other than chipmunks. I've never met anyone else with an animal. That wasn't a horse, I mean. Or goats, but those aren't really pets because you eat them. Some people do eat horse, though, which makes sense because there's a lot more meat on a horse than on a chipmunk. No one has horses here, but I've heard all of the clans in Rainbow Labyrinth do--is that true? This is my chipmunk. I found him when he was hurt and helped him heal."

Dindi nodded.

Encouraged by this response, Gwenika continued, "I was the lucky one. I had Stomach Upheaval at the time, and Stripe--that's my chipmunk--helped me through it."

The rest of the meal, Gwenika merrily continued to discuss the various illnesses she had endured in her short life. For some reason, the more diseases she mentioned, the less Dindi worried about catching Drowned Man's Lung.

"You must be our guest tonight," Gwenika said after the dancing ended and the revelers began to totter to the huts to sleep.

Dindi followed her to one of the beehive shaped houses honored by a golden Ladder-to-the-Sun top piece. There was no way that either girl could reach the round window-door from ground level, and there appeared to be no ladder.

"Hey!" shouted Gwenika. She slapped the side of the house.

Another girl, Jensi's age, appeared in the window-door.

"That's my sister, Gwena," said Gwenika. To her sister: "Let us up!"

Gwena shoved a dark bundle over the ledge of the window. A rope ladder with wooden slats snapped down to knee's reach. Gwenika scrambled up, followed more slowly by Dindi. As soon as both had crawled over the sill, Gwena silently rolled the ladder back inside and pushed it into a nook next the door.

It took Dindi a moment to adjust to the dimmer light inside the beehive house. Smoke stung her eyes.

Two adobe steps led down from the window to the interior floor, which was raised compared to the ground level outside. A fire flickered in the hearth at the center of the round room, while about the edges were adobe platforms for sitting, sleeping and eating. Everything looked clean and well swept.

It wasn't hard to guess which platform belonged to Gwenika. Two rabbits snuggled on the blankets, under dangling birdcages. Other cages sat on the platform, which held a prairie vole, an opossum and a dozen lizards. A large, ventilated pot sat behind them all from which came the distinctive, and most unnerving sound of a rattle snake. Each of the animals that Dindi could see had an injury that had been lovingly bandaged--the birds had broken wings, the lizards lacked tails, one rabbit had a hurt paw, the other suffered a mite-infected ear. She wasn't sure about the rattlesnake and didn't care to investigate.

Puddlepaws, who had returned to Dindi's pack and was peeking out, looked extremely interested in the rabbits.

Gwena and Gwenika's mother turned out to be none other than the rather intimidating Zavaedi Brena. Her greeting was accompanied by a critical cross examination, with particular focus on Dindi's family background.

"So there are no Tavaedies in your family?" Zavaedi Brena asked several times, several different ways.

"No, Auntie."

"Hrmf." She glanced significantly at her daughters, with a tiny shake of her head.

Gwena avoided close conversation with Dindi after that, but Gwenika appeared not to take her mother's hint.

"You'll guest with us," Gwenika informed Dindi.

Late as it was, Dindi wanted nothing more than to sleep, but the platform barely had room for a single human, definitely not two.

"Gwenika, sleep on the floor," said Zavaedi Brena.

"But her delicate health--" said the grandmother.

"She will survive one night."

"I can sleep on the floor," Dindi said.

"You're our guest, it wouldn't be right."

Gwenika unrolled a mat of rushes and lay down beside the platform; while Dindi tried to accustom herself enough to the strange place enough to sleep. The animals shifted in their cages, except for the cat and bunny, which snuggled her. Once she closed her eyes, it almost felt as though the warm bodies breathing beside her was Jensi, and the smell of animal fur was the smell of goats milling in the pen below her loft.

#### Dindi

Wailing awakened her. Dindi sat up, her heart pounding as it had when she'd been kidnapped. The sky, visible through the smoke hole in the ceiling, showed the face of night freckled with stars. She identified the source of misery as Gwenika. While her grandmother patted her back helplessly, Gwenika threw up into the hearth. The burning vomit stank up the whole hut.

"Is Gwenika sick again?" asked Gwena, rubbing her eyes. She sounded less concerned than Dindi would have expected. "What is it this time?"

"I'm going to die," sobbed Gwenika. "This time, I know I'm going to die."

"Fa, then, can't you just die quietly for once and let the rest of us get some sleep?" demanded Gwena.

Gwenika gagged and retched again, although nothing came out this time. She looked terrible. "One day I will die, and then you'll be sorry you were so mean to me."

"I'll be too busy catching up on my rest," said Gwena.

"Gwenika, don't jest about such things, you'll invite the Deathsworn. And Gwena, just focus on resting yourself," said Zavaedi Brena. "You know your sister isn't like you, but you mustn't ruin your own chances at you-know-what."

"Yes, Mama," said Gwena.

"She can sleep on my bed," said the grandmother. "I'll brew her a soothing tea."

They all returned to bed, except the grandmother, who stayed up long into the night, brewing tea and humming songs of healing.

#### Dindi

The next day, the Initiates from the Rainbow Labyrinth tribe were joined by another dozen Initiates from Sycamore Stands, as well as their chaperon, Zavaedi Brena. Among the new Initiates were the sisters Gwena and Gwenika. The new Initiates wore grass skirts and wood disk headdresses painted yellow instead of a woven wrap, but they also painted symbolic bands of kohl like blindfolds over their eyes, and stenciled rope designs around their wrists and ankles.

Gwenika clutched Dindi by the elbow for the day's trek. Dindi felt uncomfortable, like a leashed goat, but also pleased, just a little, someone besides the fae wanted her company. Also, Puddlepaws liked Gwenika, and that sealed it. The furry little traitor took to riding on Gwenika's shoulder. As she pet Puddlepaws, she explained she'd had to leave her pets behind in the care of her grandmother.

"Though perhaps it's for the best." Gwenika hunched under the weight of her backbasket. "With the number of Upper Back Bloat Spasms I've been suffering, I won't be around much longer to care for them."

They stopped an hour before sunset to eat evening meal and camp by a river. The two groups of adults were too busy talking amongst themselves to bother about enforcing the No Talking rule among the Initiates. The boys had gone hunting together.

Jensi nodded vaguely at Gwenika, but looked thrilled to meet Gwena.

"Everyone in your clan thinks very highly of you," Jensi told her. "They say you are the best dancer since someone called the Corn Maiden, and you'll be invited to join the Tavaedi for sure."

"It's too soon to say," said Gwena, although she looked pleased.

Her younger sister Gwenika chewed her lip and looked away.

"Who is the Corn Maiden?" asked Dindi. A shiver had coursed through her as soon as she heard the name.

"You've never heard of the Corn Maiden?" Gwena asked. "But she's famous in the Rainbow Labyrinth too!"

Jensi and Kemla exchanged a baffled look. "No."

"Maybe your people know her by a different name. She was the best dancer that has ever lived." Gwena blushed. "I'm not saying I really dance like her. People just say that."

The Corn Maiden. Dindi's heart thumped. Should she say anything about the doll, the Vision? Gwena, in particular, might know more about the Corn Maiden, and be able to tell Dindi if the corncob doll actually had some importance.

Then again, she might make a fool of herself.

She wished there were some way she could invoke Visions from the doll again, to learn more, before she started telling other people about it. That way she could be sure they wouldn't just laugh at her--or worse, call her a liar.

#### Dindi

The days of walking blended together, not unpleasantly. Now that they traveled with Yellow Bear tribesfolk, it was easier to barter with clanholds along the trail, so they ate better and hunted less. The pace was swift but not grueling, and it must have been safe from marauders, as the Tavaedies let the Initiates hike at their own pace. For long stretches, Dindi and Gwenika walked alone together, mostly out of sight of the others.

It was on one of these stretches that Gwenika asked, "Do you ever think about becoming a Tavaedi?"

_All the time._ She answered, "Maybe. What about you?"

"Maybe." Gwenika chewed her lower lip. "Do you know what _tama_ you'll do?"

Dindi looked at her in surprise.

Gwenika lowered her voice, even though no one was close enough to hear them. "I know it's a secret. And I know you said no one in your clan was a Tavaedi. But I thought you might have said that to... fa, you know. Hide. So no one would steal your _tama_. Mama says only the Initiates who perform the best tamas will make it. My sister knows enough steps to handle a difficult one, but it's easy for her. Mama says even if I get an easy one, I'll likely still flub it. But it's not my fault! Whenever I try to dance, I get sick, because of the hex on me."

"I don't know what _tama_ I will do," Dindi said. Her heart thumped so hard it hurt. This must be what her grandmother meant, that if only she had known the _tama_ of the Unfinished Song, she would have passed the test.

"I'm just being realistic. It doesn't matter. I'm happy for my sister. She's the important one. I don't matter." Gwenika's whole body shuddered when she coughed. "How can I when I'm so sick with Incurable Coughing Foot Pox?"

Dindi had never heard of Incurable Coughing Foot Pox.

"I'll be dead by morning," moaned Gwenika. She examined her foot. It was a perfectly ordinary foot, complete with five healthy, pink toes, except for a single blister on her sole. "Look, the characteristic death poxes have appeared already!"

"Try to survive the day, at least," advised Dindi.

"I'm sure my sister Gwena will do well in the Testing, but I probably won't be able to participate," Gwenika said, teary-eyed. "But really, what does it matter if I go through the Initiation? I'm likely to die before we reach the tribehold anyway."

"Don't talk like that."

"You don't believe I'm really sick, do you?" Her faced purpled and she began to cry. "You're just like all the rest! But I am, I really, really am--oh, Mercy--"

Gwenika gasped. Her face had turned ashen. Dindi followed her gaze and saw several diminutive but ugly Yellow fae riding upon squirrels, creeping toward her.

"They're coming for me," Gwenika whispered. "The yeech. Those are the fae who bring me the sicknesses. You can't see them, can you?" Gwenika asked, already resigned to a negative. "No one can, except for..."

"Who?"

"Gwena." She said her sister's name with an odd catch in her voice.

The yeech were following a faint, luminous trail, like a ribbon of pale yellow light, that led to Gwenika. One of them darted forward and pricked Gwenika with a tiny spear. She bent over coughing so hard she vomited on the dirt trail.

"I believe you, Gwenika," Dindi said. For the first time, she did. "Let's get away from here. Maybe we can outrun them!"

They took off running down the trail until they were both panting. Up ahead, Gwena and Kemla were walking together, and heard them coming.

Gwena turned around and smiled innocently at her sister. "How are you feeling, Gwenika? Sick again? Poor baby!"

She and Kemla burst into snickering laughter. Dindi's skin crawled at the sound.

Gwenika stopped and stood still until the older girls disappeared from view.

"No one believes me about the yeech," said Gwenika hoarsely. "No one believes I've been hexed. So who would believe me if I told them I knew who did it--or that it was my own sister?"

Dindi put her arm around her shoulder. "I believe you. I don't know what I can do to help. But somehow, we have to find a way to stop her."

#### Kavio

The woman led Kavio to an isolated dome-shaped hut in a clearing in the woods. He did not dare leave his canoe unattended, so strapped it onto his already heavy rucksack.

Her home was not far from the river. Someone had erected sticks and slim tree trunks in a fence around the clearing, but it was a shoddy defense at best. Inside the fence, a shallow ditch formed a circle around the hut, but it was not deep enough to constitute an obstacle.

She invited him to sit, but though he removed his rucksack and his canoe, and stretched the pains from his back, he remained standing.

"Have you no clan?" he asked.

"I do," she said. "I am Ruga, daughter of the Lark Creek Clan. But they won't let my son in the clanhold, and I won't leave him alone. So we live here, we two. My sister and her husband help me, though they won't spend the night here. I'm no beggar. If you heal my son, I can give you your price."

"What sickness hexes him?" asked Kavio.

Ruga fidgeted with her rope necklaces.

"I'll let you judge," she said, then cupped her hands over her mouth, calling, "Gremo! Hey ho, Gremo!"

Kavio expected to see a small child, but a full-grown man shambled into view, from round the backside of the hut, walking in the ditch. He was skinny enough his ribs showed, but otherwise seemed healthy, and obviously strong, for behind him he dragged a boulder almost waist tall. It was the immense stone, Kavio saw, which slowed Gremo's pace to a crawl. Hundreds of ropes had been wrapped around the boulder, and thrown around Gremo's body, so it looked as if a nest of mad spiders had spun a web to glue him to the rock.

Gremo would not meet his eyes, or acknowledge his greeting. Instead, the man muttered to himself and shambled forward, ropes streaming behind him, dragging the great stone across the yard, following the curve of the ditch. The stone would never fit through the door of the hut, but Gremo did not remove the ropes, or make any attempt to enter. He kept going round the yard, in the same rut, which indeed, he must have created.

"The ropes are knotted too tightly to remove," said Ruga. "That is his curse."

Kavio walked closer, and Gremo flinched away, ashamed. He kept slogging forward, the rock grinding behind him. Kavio sliced at the ropes with his obsidian blade, but the stone edge only dulled against the cords without cutting them.

Ruga was right. The ropes glowed in his Vision with many Chromas, Blue and Yellow especially, entwined like a nest of snake. The bindings between Gremo and the rock were magical as much as physical. The magic web would have to be destroyed before any blade could hew the ropes.

Gremo cringed and whimpered during the inspection in a way that made Kavio want to slap him and tell him to stand like a warrior. _I am not my father,_ Kavio reminded himself, _and I should pity weakness, not punish it._

"Don't be afraid." Kavio hoped he kept annoyance from his voice, but Gremo cowered under his arm. Exasperated, Kavio walked to the far side of the yard and sat against a log in the fence.

"What are you doing?" demanded Ruga. "Why aren't you dancing? Do you wish me to hide my face?"

"I need to look at the knots," Kavio said. "Then I will tell you if I can untie it."

"You promised me you would heal my son!" Her voice rose to a screech.

"I promised nothing. Please, auntie. I'll tell you when I'm ready."

Grumbling, she went behind the house, and he heard the sound of a mortar on pestle. He let the rhythmic thud-thud-thud fade into the background. Dimly, he was aware of the wind in the trees, the smell of bread when Ruga began baking, the purpling sky as day shifted to evening. But he never removed his gaze from Gremo, the ropes, and the rock. Gremo made several rounds about the house while Kavio watched. Ruga brought a piece of flat corn bread and set it beside him on a leaf, but he ignored it.

In his mind, he reworked the knots seven upon seven times and then seven upon seven more, but try as he might, he could not make the pattern unfold. The bread, now stiff, tasted flavorless and gritty with sand. He ate the whole thing. His stomach growled afterward, less satisfied with the small offering than complete neglect.

At sunset, a man armed with a spear and painted for war entered the compound.

"You! Outtriber!" He jabbed the spear toward Kavio. "My wife's sister told me a stranger was here."

Ruga hurried from behind the hut. "Lambo, I asked him here. He's a healer who can cure Gremo."

"Is he, now? Doesn't look to me like he's done any healing, only lounging around on his arse, guzzling your food and beer."

Beer? There was beer?

Lambo stomped over to stand chest to chest with Kavio. "You may think Ruga is an unattended basket, but she has kin to collect her deathdebt."

"And Gremo?" asked Kavio. "Would his clan collect his deathdebt?"

"Gremo is her baby, and Ruga would die before letting harm come to her baby."

On the other side of the yard, Gremo continued to grunt softly as he heaved the rock. The muscles across his emaciated back gleamed with sweat. He was no baby.

"He's never gone through Initiation?" Kavio asked. "He's been suffering this hex for that long? No wonder the magic is so tangled and strong."

"Smoothly spoken, but fancy gabber about magic doesn't prove you are even a Tavaedi, still less that you can free Gremo from the stone. Others have tricked Ruga out of her gold. But look at her, outtriber. She has no gold left, or she would be wearing it. She's promised you a sun and a star, I'm sure, but she has nothing left to barter. So save your tricks and your lies."

"I'll take your warning for what it is worth to me," Kavio said. "Which is not much."

He turned his back to return to his spot by the wall.

The shuffle in the dust and a growl would have been warning enough, but Lambo's attack was also clumsy. Kavio ducked beneath the first blow and lifted up into a throw that sent Lambo sprawling onto his back. In the same move, Kavio grabbed the spear, which he held to Lambo's throat.

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear," Kavio said. "I don't care about the gold. I don't require payment. The magic of the knots is an interesting puzzle, and I hope I can untangle it. If I can, I will. If I can't, I'll say so. Either way, I will be moving on in a few days, at most. So I would appreciate it if you didn't eat my time."

"Forgive me, Tavaedi," Lambo quavered. "Let me keep my life, I, I, I have children of my own and, and, and my wife..."

Kavio dropped the spear on the dirt. Fighting a man of little skill made one's Shining Name smaller, his father had always taught him.

He walked away and went to the river. He relieved himself under a tree and then bathed. The water washing over his skin felt cold and made him think of the icy mountains between him and the home he would never see again.

A bowl of beer would have been welcome.

When he returned to Ruga's compound, Ruga and Lambo both greeted him with astonishment. Ruga clapped her hands and squealed.

"You've returned! You've returned!"

"I feared I had offended you, Tavaedi," Lambo said. "And that you'd changed your mind about freeing Gremo and departed."

"And left my rucksack and canoe here?" Kavio raised an eyebrow. "Hardly. You didn't touch it, did you?"

"No, no, Tavaedi!"

"Good," he said. "Don't."

#### Kavio

The next day, another woman joined Ruga, Lambo and Kavio for morning meal. Kuruga was Ruga's younger sister, Lambo's wife. She looked like a less tormented version of Ruga, still a twitch too lopsided to be pretty, but with more black than gray hair and a more thoughtful tilt to her head. During the meal, she shared trivial news about the clan with Ruga. Lambo spoke little, and Kavio said less. No one mentioned Gremo, who, after sleeping beside his boulder, had started up walking in circles again as soon as the sun had risen.

Kavio spent the day sitting by the barricade, studying Gremo, the ropes and the rock. He ate when bread was set beside him, but otherwise did not move. The tangle of magic cords still perplexed him.

Kuruga brought him the evening meal once it was obvious he did not intend to join the family.

"Lambo is right," she said after a moment. "You're not like the others who promised they could heal Gremo."

"I promised nothing."

"I know. But Ruga won't believe that, no matter how many times you tell her. When you fail, it will hurt her. The longer you stay, the greater her hope, the more it will hurt her. You should leave, tonight. Say nothing to her. Just go."

Kavio gave her his full attention. "Give up on your nephew? Strange advice from a loving aunt."

"There's something you should know about Gremo," she said. "Something Gremo himself doesn't know. He was fathered by the spear. Blue Waters warriors came up the river and raided our clanhold. When Ruga found out an enemy left his hate in her belly, the Tavaedies gave her a drink to rid her of the poison, but though she drank it, the kicking in her belly did not stop. When the babe was born, she was advised by all to return the thing to the river, and let it float back to him who made it. She took the babe to the river, and threw it in, but when she saw it start to turn blue she fished it out. They told her again to get rid of the spawn of our foes when Gremo started toddling and talking. She tied him to the black stone of the Deathsworn one night, but in the morning, when she found him still there, again she took him back. All were disgusted by her weakness, but there was nothing we could do. No one was surprised when the spear's spawn grew wrong."

"There's no law in the light or shadow that says a woman must void a child she wants, even if she was raped," said Kavio. "Or are you telling me that someone hated the baby so much it might have been a motive for the hex?"

"I'm just telling you."

"Unless it can help me solve the puzzle, I don't care who Gremo's father was. It's not his father's spear a man throws in battle, but his own."

"You arrogant boy." Kuruga curled her hands into fists in her lap. "I know your kind. You are young, strong, headstrong. No doubt you've led raids on your clan's enemies and earned a fine Shining Name. You probably have some rival, as young and strong and headstrong as you. Like two bucks, you locked horns and he drove you off for a time. But you plan to go back, fight him again, and win or die trying."

His lips curved very slightly, and he shrugged. "Your arrows hit their marks except for one. I will never go back."

"All those weapons in your pack--don't look at me like that, how could I not notice the sharp bits straining the leather?--and you tell me you don't intend to fight?"

"A man needs to defend himself."

"You have enough weapons for an army. Are you carrying an army in your pack, Outtribber? Are you carrying a war?"

"Your sister asked me here to heal, not fight," he said. "That's what I'll do."

"You'll fail." Kuruga said flatly. "No one can heal Gremo. Many healers have tried. None succeeded. You won't succeed either."

"I have to try."

"Why?"

"I don't know." He shook his head. "I just have to try. Let me ask you something. Is there anyone in the clan who hated him enough to curse him?"

"To curse him as cruelly as that? I don't know. But to be rid of him, and the shame he brought us through his birth?" Kuruga stared hard at him. "I will tell you the truth. None of us, not even among our Tavaedies, has the power to create such a powerful hex. But among us all, only Ruga would have not wanted to."

#### Kavio

Just before sunset, Kavio stood up and began to dance. He danced each of the five colors of light in the cords binding Gremo to the boulder, using his movements to lift the strands of light in an intricate series of steps. Loop by loop, he unwound the knot, until the last band of light dissolved. Kavio took his obsidian dagger and sliced apart the physical ropes, which fell away gracefully as autumn leaves.

Gremo looked up in amazement. He straightened his back and met Kavio's eye for the first time.

"I am free," he whispered. His cry lifted to a shout. "I am free! Ma, ma, I am free!"

Ruga ran to her son and they embraced, both crying unabashedly. Lambo clapped Kavio on the back, saying, "I knew from the first time I saw you that your powers were not fool's gold!" Even Kuruga murmured, "I was wrong." But she looked more troubled than pleased.

The family celebrated until the moon rose. Gremo spoke haltingly, but he smiled hugely, and even sang drinking songs with Lambo, after the beer, which did exist after all, made an appearance and filled many a bowl.

"Your son has powerful magic," Kavio told Ruga. "Five Chromas. Perhaps that was why a jealous enemy sought to bind his power. Gremo, do you have any idea who did this to you?"

"It was my father," said Gremo.

The other three family members shifted on the eating mat. Ruga laughed shrilly. "Impossible. Your father--"

"I know he was a Blue Waters warrior who misused you, ma," said Gremo. "I always knew. I heard all every ugly whisper, saw every nasty stare. I don't know how he hexed me, how he even knew I was born. But I heard him calling me to finish what he started, kill all of you, kill the whole clan, then travel to the sea and join him. I heard him telling me you deserved it for what you did. Even you, ma. Sometimes I hated you for bringing me into this world. I could have done it too. My magic was stronger than any Tavaedi in the clan. But I wouldn't let the monster win."

"But, Gremo..." Kuruga hesitated. "Why did he tie you to a rock if what he wanted was for you to slay the clan with your magic and then join him at the sea?"

"Monster," said Gremo. To everyone's embarrassment, tears made streaks in the dirt on his unwashed face. "I hate the monster."

#### Kavio

The next morning, Kavio slept late. When he woke up, he heard a strange noise outside the hut. Poking his head out, he saw Gremo, grunting and waving his arms.

Kavio hopped out of the hut. "Enjoying your freedom?"

Gremo cringed, did not look at him, and did not answer.

The awkward arm-waving, with occasional kicks, continued, forcing Kavio to step back. Bands of light snaked around Gremo. Powerful magic made the air crack the way it did on the cusp of a storm. The hairs on Kavio's arms stood on end.

"Gremo, what are you doing? Stop!"

Gremo threw back his head and howled at the sky. Spittle foamed at the corners of his lips, and his gaze, when he glared at Kavio, burned with hate. Black clouds boiled overhead out of an empty sky. Lightning crackled, touching Gremo and illuminating his aura like a blaze.

There _was_ a monster. Kavio had set him free.

He rushed forward, but Gremo waved an arm and a shock of pure power knocked Kavio off his feet. He gasped for breath. The man's strength was astounding, like a force of nature, and Kavio realized that during years of winding circles around the hut, Gremo had accumulated such power no ordinary human could subdue him.

Kavio had no choice but to try.

He rolled to his pack and groped blindly for a weapon, any weapon. He pulled out a spear head with a short haft, which he thrust up just as Gremo assaulted him again. He blooded the man, but Gremo never even slowed. He pummeled Kavio with fists of granite. Another blow like that would knock him senseless. He leaped out of the way again, and again, when Gremo kept coming, but he wasn't used to be being always on the defensive. Trying to regain control of the fight, Kavio attacked with a series of punches followed by a round-house kick.

Bad choice.

Gremo locked his leg and twisted, slamming Kavio into the dirt. Then, before he could wrest himself free, Gremo bent and lifted him up over his head and threw Kavio against the boulder that had once imprisoned him. Winds screamed in Kavio's ears, with gale force, pinning him there, helpless to stop Gremo's advance.

Then Gremo reached him and clenched his fingers around Kavio's throat.

"I am my father's son!" roared Gremo. "I will slay you and everyone in the clan!"

This would have been a good time for Kavio to come up with something heroic. If he did not, Gremo was going to snap his neck like a twig. Instead, maddeningly, Kavio felt a wave of weakness, accompanied by a flash of light, and knew that his cursed fae blood, his mother's legacy, had caught him at the worst possible moment. His eyes rolled back in his head and he surrendered to the fit and a memory.

#### Kavio (10 years old)

He stood behind his father, and his father's warriors. Across the defense ditch around their camp, another group of warriors stood, led by a man in headdress that sparkled with golden bangles. The man in gold was Hertio, War Chief of Yellow Bear.

"He is his father's son," said Hertio. "I demand the boy as my surety or none at all."

"I have seven sevens of men who would serve as your hostages," said Father.

"You would sacrifice them all in a heartbeat," said Hertio, "if it suited your purpose. Your son is your own blood. I think even you might hesitate to betray me if it meant his death."

_You don't know my father,_ thought Kavio. _He would never abandon his men. Me, on the other hand..._

His father put his hand on Kavio's head.

"Please don't make me go, Father," Kavio whispered. "I don't trust him."

"Give me your hands, Kavio," Father said.

Kavio held up his wrists, and Father wound a sinew rope around them, pinching the flesh painfully. Kavio swallowed a foul taste in his mouth. There was no plea he could make, no way to save himself. Father tightened the rope into a knot.

Father pushed Kavio in front of him. Loudly, he announced, "My son will be your hostage and your slave, yours to command and yours to slay."

#### Kavio

Kavio snapped out of the memory. It had felt as vivid as if he'd relieved it, and Gremo stared at him wide-eyed in shock. The man had apparently shared the Vision from the past. However, Gremo shook himself free of the daze. He still held Kavio by the throat and now he lifted his other fist to deliver the killing blow.

Chapter Five

## Yellow Bear

#### Kavio

Gremo roared again, but instead of smashing in Kavio's face or twisting off his head, Gremo tossed Kavio out of the way and threw himself on the boulder. Frantically, he assaulted the rock with his fists. At first, Kavio thought he sought to destroy the rock that had bound him for so long, but soon it became evident that, on the contrary, Gremo was using the ropes of lightning to electrify and re-weave the physical ropes that Kavio had cut apart the day before. He also coiled the lightning strands around himself and the rock, until, finally, he was more strongly lashed to the boulder than he had been before Kavio had arrived.

The blaze of light subsided; the storm clouds parted and drifted away.

Ruga, Lambo and Kuruga had all emerged from the hut at some point during the magic storm. Ruga blanched white and her mouth moved wordlessly. Lambo looked grim. Tears coursed down Kuruga's face.

Gremo grunted and began laboriously tugging at the stone lashed behind him.

Someone pulled Kavio's arm. Ruga.

"You healed him once," she said. "You can heal him again."

"I can't." He gently removed her hands. His whole body throbbed from the drubbing Gremo had given him. "He hexed himself, auntie. He bound his power to the rock to prevent himself from turning it against all of you."

"He hates us that much?"

"And loves you that much. It's a knot I cannot untangle. I'm sorry."

With her fists she beat his chest, screaming, until Lumbo pulled her away. Kavio glanced at Kuruga, who still silently wept.

"You knew," he said.

"I knew of his hate, but not of his love. Maybe...maybe when I tell the others in the clanhold, they will look differently at him. Maybe if we can put our rocks down, Gremo can release his."

"And if they don't, and he doesn't? What will happen to Ruga? Will she live the rest of her life tending a madman walking in circles?"

"She will never abandon him," said Kuruga. "She has bound herself as tightly as he, and he is the stone she carries."

Kavio strapped the canoe onto his rucksack. Something had shifted inside, and poked him in the back, so he set it down and re-packed. One of the chert spearheads Nilo had given him was to blame. It was so sharp he cut himself when he moved it, spilling a few drops of blood on the leather. He sucked the finger, then re-shouldered the pack. This time it fit, and he even found the weight comforting.

#### Kavio

Over the following days of travel, Kavio struggled to put the disquieting episode with Gremo behind him. The secret of a peaceful journey was not to interact with other people. He resolved not to. _Thank you, Rthan,_ Kavio smiled grimly to himself as he paddled. _Your boat has eased my journey tremendously._

He had other difficulties, however. Travelers, moving in well protected groups, streamed toward the tribehold. Kavio caught glimpses of them on the trail parallel to the river: Tavaedies guarding Initiates. What arrested his attention was that some of the Initiates wore the distinctive hexachrome-maze-on-white of Rainbow Labyrinth tribesfolk. Were they slaves? Exiles? Traitors? Not that he was in a position to throw judgment stones, but none of the possibilities sat well with him.

They also slowed his progress because each time he saw other travelers he hid his canoe in the tangled shrubs by the shore until they left. Life would be so much easier in a world devoid of people, he reflected, as he poled his canoe into a hidden pool. Up ahead, a tree had fallen across the river, forming a mossy bridge, and someone stood there.

A young woman.

To his surprise, she was alone. She'd left her backbasket and outer garments on the bank. Her hair tumbled free, long and rich, as she began to cartwheel to and fro across the log. The sun set on the river behind her, turning her into a silhouette. She gave the impression, not of a Tavaedi performing a ritual, but of a faery at play, to whom handsprings, backflips and hand stand splits were as natural as walking. Her grace and strength made him catch his breath and forget to release it.

She must be from the Rainbow Labyrinth tribehold, he thought. Nowhere else in Faearth were children tested for magic at age seven; everyone else tested during Initiation. This was foolish, he'd always felt, because fourteen was too late. This woman had obviously been practicing since she was a child. His imagination built a whole life for her, from her successful testing at seven, to years of acclaim and danger. He wondered how many Chromas she had, and how many men had already begged her to marry them. He wanted to let the current carry him under her bridge, to ask her how she felt growing up as a prodigy--had people mocked her for it, as they'd mocked him when he'd come here as a child Tavaedi? Were they jealous of her skill, as they had been of his, did their resentment force her to build a wall of stone between her and a world of idiots? Would she hold her hand out to him and invite him to join her on the bridge?

Or would she look down at him and see just one more badgering fool?

The sun dipped directly behind her, bathing her in an aura as strong as one of the Faery Ladies. He had to look away.

When he turned back again, the clouds had covered the sun, but she was gone.

#### Dindi

"Dindi!" Gwenika called from the woods. "Where did you go?"

_Muck and mercy._ Dindi hopped down from the log, scrambled into her outer wrap and backbasket and managed to be seated sedately on the riverbank by the time Gwenika caught up with her.

The travelers had stopped an hour before sunset to eat evening meal and camp by the river. The two groups of adults were too busy talking amongst themselves to bother about enforcing the No Talking rule among the Initiates. The boys had gone hunting together.

Dindi had hoped to spend some time alone, but Gwenika had found her, as usual, and now Dindi heard the voices of other Initiates meandering toward the log bridge.

"Your mother is a Zavaedi and you dance just as well as she," Jensi was telling Gwena, the elder sister. Kemla and five or six other girls were with them too. "They say you'll be invited to join the Tavaedi for sure."

"So you're that good, are you?" Kemla, nearby, shoved her way into the conversation. "What can you do? Let's have our own little Vooma."

Gwena looked coy. The Tavaedies were out of sight behind some trees around a bend in the river. "You know we can't perform _tama_."

"Who said anything about _tama_? I just want to see what you can do. Do you see that log? Can you do this?"

Kemla ran to the log and cartwheeled across it. She held her arms up in a V on the other side. "Well?"

"That's so easy I can do it with one hand behind my back," said Gwena. She cartwheeled over the log with one hand resting in the small of her back.

"Who needs hands?" said Kemla. With a rush back across the log in the opposite direction, she executed a no-handed cartwheel, landed on the log and did a handstand off the edge of the log to drop to the bank again. She crossed her arms and smirked at Gwena.

"Fa!" said Gwena. "Babies could do as much. Try this."

Bending over backwards, Gwena flipped swiftly across the log in two successive back handsprings.

Kemla immediately followed by attacking the log with a round off back handspring.

Gwena replied with a full-twisting double back leap, an amazing move that ended with two backwards somersaults in the air before she landed several paces past the log.

"That's nothing," Jensi said loudly.

Kemla and Gwena both swiveled their heads in her direction.

"You think you can do better, Jensi?"

"Not me. I'm not insane. But I've seen Dindi do flips like that on a branch half as thick and twice as high off the ground. Haven't you, Dindi?"

Dindi turned flame red. "Jensi, what are you doing?"

"You're better than both of them put together. Show them what you can do!"

She wanted to sink into the earth and dissolve. "Um."

"Yes, Dindi, show us what you can do," Kemla said like sticky sweet poison.

"Sure, Dindi, give it a go," Gwena said, more kindly. "It's all in fun."

Urged by the other girls, Dindi stood up. She ran toward the log.

"Dindi, wait, don't you--" began Jensi, but her warning came too late.

Dindi flipped herself into a handstand at the end of the log before she realized she had forgotten to take off her shoulder basket. Turned upside down, the flap at the top snapped from the pressure and the entire contents spilled over her, down the log and into the river.

She squealed and tumbled out of the handstand. She caught her fall in a roll in the soft mud of the bank, so she wasn't hurt, but the fall must have looked less controlled than it was because Jensi screamed, Kemla laughed and Gwenika gasped, "Mercy! Are you all right?"

True enough, it made a mess. When Dindi stood up, river slime coated her face and hair, not to mention her white wrap. Worse yet, her beautiful white dancing costume had fallen in the river, fortunately just in the shallows, and was covered with mud as well. Several of the heavy stone tools had rolled in deeper, and Dindi had to wade into the chill water up to her thighs to find them all. Was that everything?

The corncob doll.

She didn't see it either on the bank or in the water. She was just starting to panic when she heard Kemla burst into another peal of laughter.

"Fa la, Dindi, is this your totem doll?" Kemla asked, holding up the ratty cob by its torn dress.

"Give it back to me," said Dindi. The water reeds in the river tangled her feet as she struggled to climb back up the riverbank to grab the doll.

"Just look at it! Have you ever seen an uglier doll?"

Kemla threw the doll to Gwena, who sniggered. "She's bald!"

The girls played keep-away with the doll, throwing it from one to another every time Dindi tried to snatch it back.

"She has no face!"

"All the beads have fallen off!"

"It looks a hundred years old!"

"What a disaster of a totem!" Kemla cried. "How--appropriate!"

The other girls on the bank laughed. Even Jensi. Not Gwenika though.

"This isn't funny," Dindi tried to jump and catch doll from out of the air, but Kemla caught it first and did a one handed cartwheeled over the log with the doll in her other hand.

"You have to come get it," Kemla said. "Cross the log for it--on your hands. If you let your feet touch the log, I'll throw Baldy here in the water."

Gwena led the rest of the girls in a slow, rhythmic clap. None of them would help her. They thought this was just a game. If Dindi tried to warn them of the real danger, they would laugh and tease her.

Clap.

Clap.

Clap...

What choice did she have? She couldn't think of any clever way to put them in their place. If her fae friends were here, she would have at least had allies. But the only faery watching was a blue haired rusalka who lurked in the deeper currents at the center of the river. Feral glee swirled in her eyes and her waterweed hair swayed with the whitewater eddies of the river. If anything, she seemed to take more pleasure from Dindi's misery than the human girls--rusalki were nasty Blue fae who enjoyed drowning humans. Fae weren't always nice either.

Dindi handstanded onto the log. Her muddy skirt flipped down over her waist, revealing her loin girds, which caused more giggling. She grit her teeth and ignored it. Palm by palm, she hand-walked down the log. The moss slipped under her fingers, but she grasped the grooved bark underneath to keep her grip. It had been easy when she'd been practicing by herself, but now she felt self-conscious and clumsy.

"You have to ask nicely," Kemla shouted from the far bank as Dindi neared the center of the log.

"Can I please have my totem doll back?" Upside down and covered with mud, she felt like an utter fool, but she had to have the doll back before it hurt somebody.

"Sure, Dindi. Here it is!"

Kemla threw the corn cob doll as hard as she could right at Dinid's solar plexus.

Light flashed all around her. No, not now, was Dindi's last thought before she tumbled into the water below and into the other mind.

#### Vessia

Vessia found Danumoro in a place where people lived on three hills, which they called the Tors of Yellow Bear tribehold. The people here wore much gold and they snickered at Vessia when she walked the rows between their houses without even a single gold necklace to grace her neck. "Another grubby exile from the Rainbow Labyrinth," the women commented loudly to one another as she passed. "I don't mind the outtriber Initiates, at least they pay their way, but the exiles are too much. Dirty beggars."

Danumoro, in contrast, expressed delight that she had come. His only disappointment was that she had not come to marry him.

"The local secret society here knows I am a Yellow Tavaedi, but the dances I know are different than theirs, so I do not dance with them," he explained to Vessia. "But they don't bother me if I dance healing for those in need, and that's how I barter for my needs. Also, when I first came here, I healed Hertio, who is now War Chief for the whole tribehold, and he still counts me as a friend."

Vessia nodded, though she didn't understand. The intricacies of people's social exclusions and inclusions layered over one another like autumn leaves accumulating on the forest floor, obscuring and transforming the underlying foundation past recognition.

"You can accompany me on my rounds," he added. "Do you know any dances of healing?"

"I don't know."

"I can teach you what you don't know yet. I know you can dance Yellow. I've seen you."

"I dance what I dance," she shrugged.

So wherever he went, she followed him. She watched. She learned. Not just the dances he performed, which she found stilted and simple, but his manner with people, which she found astonishing and complex. Sometimes Danumoro would spend much time tending people with small complaints. Though he did little for them, they would put corn, meat, shells--even pebbles of gold, which he said were most valuable of all--into his travel basket when he departed.

"Why do you dance so long for them?" Vessia asked. "You could have healed them with a gesture."

"I know," he admitted. "But if they perceive my tama as taking a long time, they will give me more. They don't want to be told that they are spoiled squawk birds. They want to be fawned over and catered to. That's the real reason they fill my basket."

"So what matters is filling the basket?" she asked, trying hard to understand. "But then why do you also go to the people who don't fill your basket?"

He grimaced. "I tend the wealthy only so I can afford to tend the poor. If I could, I would only dance for those who can't fill my basket, but I need to eat too."

Many of those who couldn't fill his basket were the "dirty beggars" of whom the gold-clad women of the tribehold spoke so scathingly. Exiles from the Rainbow Labyrinth, these people were dirty, and they did beg in the streets, where they slept. Hertio had found a way to keep them from being idle all day; any who wished could go work dragging dirt and stones to build a new tor a short distance from the three tors already in the valley. In return, at the start and end of the day, each worker would be given a handful of corn gruel. But some were too young, too old, too weak in body or too weak in mind to do even that much. These were Danumoro's patients.

She learned how he healed. He used herbs and leaves, teas and poultices, but this was only a part of it. An aura of light, woven like a basket into different patterns, surrounded each person. Danumoro kneaded the aura with gestures over the patient's body. In more serious cases, he drew strands of the patient's aura into his dance to reshape it and redeploy it. "I never really heal anyone," he explained to Vessia. "They heal themselves. I just show their aura how to do it."

Except he couldn't always stop the weave from unraveling. Once, he could not save a hollow-eyed orphan child from falling asleep. When none of his dancing would wake the child, he wept like a child himself.

"Some wounds never heal. Sometimes it's better to let go. But it's hard, Vessia, it's hard to let go, even when it hurts us more to hold on."

"Why does it bother you so much?" Vessia asked.

"Eight years old is too young to die," he said. He dashed away his tears and punched the air. "The Bone Whistler murdered that child, as surely as if he did it with his own hands. How I wish I could kill that monster."

Another time, Danumoro tended a man with boils under his arms. Rather than dance healing, he said to the man's family, "The plague yeech have already conquered him. You must send him away to the Tor of the Stone Hedge right away, and burn his house, or more yeech will come."

"What does it mean to go to the Tor of the Stone Hedge?" asked Vessia after they hurried away from that house and the wailing family.

"It means the man is already dead," said Danumoro. "I can't help him. The Deathsworn must finish him before others die."

"The Deathsworn?"

"Sometimes," Danumoro explained reluctantly, "there are those who are too sick or injured to live. There are those who are old and never had children to care for them in their last years. And there are criminals and witches who break the law of light and shadow. Such people go to a place marked by a black stone. The Deathsworn come to take them."

"Take them?"

"Kill them, Vessia," he said gently.

She couldn't understand why one would try so hard to make some live, and so hard to make some die.

Vessia heard many rumors and opinions about a person called the Bone Whistler, none good. Then one day, a new rumor swept through the tribehold: The Bone Whistler's army is marching on Yellow Bear. The exiles panicked. Some fled immediately, heading toward the Green Woods. Others heeded the call of the War Chief Hertio to join his warriors and "face the blooded spear like men".

Danumoro stayed. "I've already run once. I wish I could dance Red."

"Not to heal."

"No, not all dances are for healing," he said.

Soon new exiles arrived--not Rainbow Labyrinth tribesfolk, but Yellow Bear tribesfolk whose clanholds had been razed by the advancing army of the Bone Whistler. They begged for help on behalf of other clanholds in the Bone Whistler's path. Hertio agreed to send Tavaedies and warriors out to help them.

Danumoro volunteered for the mission. He forbade Vessia from accompanying him, but she followed anyway. By the time they arrived, however, the battle had already ended. Wounded littered the field.

"It looks like I will be healing after all," Danumoro said grimly. In these times, the Yellow Bear Tavaedies did not object when he joined their circle of dancers.

The Tavaedies divided the wounded into two groups. They treated one group kindly and began to dance healing for them at once. They tied up the men in the second group.

While the healers busied themselves with the first group, Vessia wandered over to the tied up men. One in particular caught her attention. The man had strong masculine features and an athletic physique, which Vessia had learned meant he was to be considered handsome. That wasn't what drew her. Rather, it was the way he looked at her, directly, unafraid.

"Why did they tie you up?" she asked him. "Why aren't they healing you?"

He looked amused. "They would rather piss in our teeth."

"Why do you serve the Bone Whistler?" she asked. "Nobody likes him."

"The Bone Whistler does not aspire to be liked," said the man. "He aspires to be loved. And people love most what they fear most."

Vessia wrinkled her brow. "That is not how Danu explained love to me. He's often told me he loves me, but never that he fears me."

The prisoner studied her. "I'm not sure why, but I think I should fear you."

She looked him up and down. Gashes crisscrossed his bare chest. His arms were pinned behind his back. Nothing remained of his leather legwals but shreds and he hadn't shaved in several days. Blood, sweat and muck smudged the muscles of his chest and arms.

"Well, I don't fear you," said Vessia.

The prisoner laughed. It was a low rumble almost like a purr. "You wound me more than any of the weapons I have faced in battle, beautiful one."

The Tavaedies had finished healing everyone in the first group as best they could. Now they approached the second group with drawn knives.

"Ah," said the prisoner, jerking his chin in their direction. He smiled defiantly as he said it. "Here come my executioners."

Danumoro stepped in front of the prisoners. "Don't."

The prisoners looked surprised. Vessia noticed that they all glanced at the handsome strong one for direction. Which was strange, she thought, because he wore no marks of leadership. In fact, he wore less than the other men. As if he had removed his outer garments to hide the markings on them.

_He's their leader. But he doesn't want us --his enemies--to know._

"You of all people should rejoice in the blood of these murderers, Herb Dancer," the Yellow Bear Tavaedies told Danumoro.

"Then listen to me when I plead for the lives of these enemies," Danumoro said.

After much argument, they finally gave in to him. But none of them would heal the wounded warriors of the Bone Whistler. Danumoro crossed his arms and addressed the prisoners.

"If you give me your parole that you will not try to run, I will dance healing for you," he said.

Again, the men's eyes slid subtly toward the handsome one, who inclined his head slightly.

"We'll do it," said a gruff warrior who held an unconscious man in his lap. "Start with Bapio, here. He's in a bad way."

One by one, Danumoro took aside the wounded enemy warriors and healed them to the best of his ability. Not all survived, but Vessia could tell by his dancing that he tried as hard to save them as he had his own people. The handsome one sent all the other men before himself to be healed. He insisted his wound was not that bad. Finally, Danumoro gestured for him to come. Only then did Vessia realize that the entire time the handsome prisoner had been holding a broken arrow still in the flesh where it had punctured his lower back.

Danumoro was furious. "This is a terrible wound! You should have let me treat it right away!"

"I'm fine," the handsome one said. Now that she knew what to look for, though, Vessia realized that his smile was pinched with pain. He had to have been in ghastly agony the entire time he was sitting there sending his men to be helped before himself. Grumbling, Danumoro directed the prisoner to the center of his healing circle. He pulled out the arrow--the prisoner grunted, but clenched his teeth rather than cry out--and staunched the wound with special leaves.

An aura of light surrounded the handsome prisoner. All people had auras, but some, Vessia had noticed, were stronger and more colorful than others, and his aura gleamed brilliantly. Danumoro noticed it too. After he finished his dance, the hole in the man's lower back looked better, but Danumoro frowned.

"You're a Tavaedi," he accused the prisoner.

The handsome prisoner lifted an eyebrow. "If you were going to kill me, you should have done it before you drained your aura healing me."

"Tell me your Shining Name," demanded Danumoro.

"No."

"You owe me your life, but you won't even give me your name?"

"I won't be in your debt for long."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The prisoner smiled cockily. "Even as we speak, the War Group of Vio the Skull Stomper, foremost Zavaedi of the Bone Whistler, is encircling your position. You're trapped. When they close the circle, they will slaughter you like pigs on feast day."

Danumoro paled. He ran to warn the others.

The prisoner had not issued an idle bluff. Not long after that, they all heard the enemy beat their war drums. The trap had closed. The Yellow Bear Tavaedies accompanied Danumoro back to the prisoner.

"You owe me a lifedebt," Danumoro said. "You must allow us to leave."

"I owe only you," said the prisoner. "Your friends would have slit all our throats." Before Danumoro could object, he held up a hand. "But since you showed uncommon compassion, and since--" the handsome prisoner glanced at Vessia, "I am feeling generous, I will allow your whole party to leave unmolested in trade for myself and my men."

"Agreed."

A short while later, the Yellow Bear war party walked silently through rows of Rainbow Labyrinth warriors, while the prisoners walked in the other direction. The last Vessia saw of the handsome warrior, he paused to call back to Danumoro.

"We are even now, Healer. Be wary. Next time we meet, the balance will be fresh, and I'll owe you nothing. Don't expect unearned mercy from me. I am Vio the Skull Stomper."

An angry murmur rose among the Yellow Bear tribesfolk at that name. Danumoro clenched his fists.

"I wouldn't expect unearned mercy from any of you scum!" he shouted back.

"And yet," said Vessia, just to him. "You showed mercy to them."

"I wish I hadn't," said Danumoro. "If I had known who he was, I would have rather died at the hands of his warriors afterward, if it meant I could have slit his throat first. The other Tavaedies were right. I was a fool to spare those prisoners!"

So many contradictions. She didn't think she would ever fathom it.

#### Dindi

Dindi awakened from the Vision, drowning.

Blue-skinned rusalki grappled Dindi under the churning surface of the river. She could feel their claws dig into her arms. Their riverweed-like hair entangled her legs when she tried to kick back to the surface. She only managed to gulp a few breaths of air before they pulled her under again.

She hadn't appreciated how fast and deep the river was. On her second gasp for air, she saw that the current was already dragging her out of sight of the screaming girls on the bank. Some of them, including Jensi and Gwenika, were running along the edge of the river, trying to keep up with her, but trees and rocks slowed them down, while the fae propelled Dindi forward even faster. Now she could see where they wanted her to go. A whirlpool of froth and fae roiled between two large rocks in the middle of the river. The rusalka and her sisters tugged Dindi toward it. Other water fae joined the rusalki. Long snouted pookas, turtle-like kappas and hairy-armed gwyllions all swam around her, leading her to the whirlpool, where even more fae swirled in the whitewater.

"Join our circle, Dindi!" the fae voices gurgled under the water. "Dance with us forever!"

"No!" She kicked and swam and stole another gasp for air before they snagged her again. There were so many of them now, all pulling her down, all singing to the tune of the rushing river. She tried to shout, "Dispel!" but swallowed water instead. Her head hit a rock, disorienting her. She sank, this time sure she wouldn't be coming up again.

"Dispel!" It was a man's voice.

Strong arms encircled her and lifted her until her arms and head broke the surface. Her rescuer swam with her toward the shore. He overpowered the current, he shrugged aside the hands of the water faeries stroking his hair and arms. When he reached the shallows, he scooped Dindi into his arms and carried her the rest of the way to the grassy bank. He set her down gently.

She coughed out some water while he supported her back.

"Better?" he asked.

She nodded. He was young--only a few years older than she. The aura of confidence and competence he radiated made him seem older. Without knowing quite why, she was certain he was a Tavaedi.

"Good." He had a gorgeous smile. A wisp of his dark bangs dangled over one eye. He brushed his dripping hair back over his head.

Dindi's hand touched skin--he was not wearing any shirt. Both of them were sopping wet. On him, that meant trickles of water coursed over a bedrock of muscle. As for her, the thin white wrap clung transparently to her body like a wet leaf. She blushed.

"It might have been easier to swim if you had let go of that," he teased. He touched her hand, which was closed around something. "What were you holding onto so tightly that it mattered more than drowning?"

Dindi realized she still clutched the corncob doll in one hand. She stared at her hand as if it were someone else's.

"You must think I'm a fool."

"Not at all," he said. "You must be a strong swimmer to have survived in the water that long. I couldn't tell if the fae were trying to hold you up or pull you down."

_Both,_ she thought.

"Let's get you dried off," he said, with another dazzling smile. "My pack is back there."

Great Aunt Sullana would have had quite a few words on the topic of accompanying a strange male through the woods, but Dindi followed the young man without question. His travel basket was not far. It sat on a large rock beside the river, next to a beached kayak. He must have taken it off right before he jumped into the river to rescue her.

"And I thought my rucksack was too big," Dindi said. His was as tall as Dindi and must have weighed twice as much. "Can you really lift that monster?"

He grinned. "My friends were a little overenthusiastic when they gave their journey gifts." He opened the basket flap and began to rummage through the vast piles of neatly folded blankets and wrapped objects. "You're an Initiate, aren't you?"

She crossed her arms over her breasts. "Yes."

"I'm afraid I don't really have any girls' clothing with me." Without looking at her, he held out some folded fabric. "Here, try this, at least until we can get you back to your camp. The Tavaedies responsible for you will be worried, I imagine."

Dindi scampered behind some bushes. As quickly as she could, she dropped the wet wrap in a heap and rolled the new material around her torso.

The material felt like swan down against her chilled skin. She had never seen cloth so smoothly woven before, with such tiny, even threads. And the colors! Though they were the same six colors of the Rainbow Labyrinth tribe in her old wrap, the dyes in this textile were much more vivid. Nor had she ever seen the maze pattern of her tribe detailed with such intricacy.

"You're from the Rainbow Labyrinth tribe too!" she exclaimed, emerging from behind the bushes.

He was facing away from her. In her excitement at the discovery that he was a fellow tribesman, she hadn't bothered to check if he'd finished dressing. He had removed his wet legwals, and she had a fine view of his bare backside: powerful thighs, broad back with shoulders so defined they resembled wings, and everything in between.

"Oh, mercy!" She turned red. "I'm so sorry." She backed up, tripped over a root, and bumped into a tree. "I'll, um, go..."

"It's all right," he said easily. Her blunder did not appear to have offended him to the degree it had mortified her. "I'm almost ready."

She ran to hide behind the bush. She only returned once he was lacing up his legwals. They were not leather, she noticed, but of the same richly woven fabric that he had given her. He shouldered his huge pack without a sign of strain, including the kayak, which cupped the rucksack like a turtle's shell. He might as well have been carrying a kitten.

"Your people are back that way," he said, pointing upstream.

Where were her manners?

"My name is Dindi," she said. "Of Lost Swan clan of Rainbow Labyrinth tribe."

He hesitated before he returned his name. "Kavio."

How odd. Why did he not mention his clan and tribe?

"From the weave you lent me, I thought you were from Rainbow Labyrinth tribe--"

"I was. Once."

"Oh." Her heart sank. "You're married, then?"

"No."

It was obvious he didn't really want to talk about why he had no clan to his name any more than she wanted to talk about the corncob doll, so Dindi fell silent, still confused. A new topic seemed best.

"Thank you for saving me," she said. "I owe you a lifedebt."

"I believe the traditional reward would be a kiss."

The idea both terrified and thrilled her.

Sparks danced in his eyes, like mischief, but more intense, as lightening was more intense than burning oil. "But, I confess, there's something I want from you even more." He leaned forward. His voice dropped to a conspiracy, husky against her ear. "Tell me your Chromas."

"Wh--what?"

"There's no one who can hide from me. I mean no one--it's been tried by the best. Except you. I honestly can't tell."

"You're talking about Tavaedi colors? I thought you understood. I'm still an Initiate. I haven't been tested yet."

His bewilderment, almost anger, befit a man expecting water but given sand.

"Have I forfeited my lifedebt?" she asked, suddenly queasy.

"No." He shook himself from his daze. "Of course not, I'll accept something else, whatever you wish. I just thought...I'm not often mistaken."

People rushed toward them along the river's edge. Jensi was one, Gwenika another, the other girls were right behind--including Kemla, who was crying--and the Tavaedies from both tribes, led by Abiono.

"Dindi! Thank the Six Faeries, you're still alive!" he exclaimed. "Kemla said you were fooling around on the log and fell in the river, and she was so upset..."

Kemla was upset? But, yes, there was Kemla, wailing like a baby.

"It was all my fault!" she screeched. "I was demonstrating a few flips--not dancing, mind you, just demonstrating--and Dindi insisted on copying me, even though she hadn't the skill, and she just..." She trailed away into loud blubbering.

"That's not quite what happened," said Gwena. At least she looked guilty. "We were--"

"I dropped my doll from the log and fell in when I tried to catch it," Dindi said. Gwena looked at her gratefully. Hurrying on, she gestured to Kavio. "This man saved me."

"Er, I see." Abiono looked flustered at the presence of the stranger. "Is this true?"

Kavio inclined his head.

"Then we are most grateful," Abiono said. "As you can see, we are on our way to the Yellow Bear tribehold for the Initiation. Are you by any chance headed in that direction?"

"As a matter of fact, I am," said Kavio.

Abiono beamed. "Marvelous. If you wish to travel with us, we would be happy of your company. You have saved one of our clan daughters and we cannot thank you enough. In the absence of Dindi's parents, I am her guardian, and will pay you the lifedebt." He added, under his breath, "You cannot imagine what her great aunt would have done to me if the girl had drowned."

That set Kemla into another fit of weeping.

"It was horrible, horrible to watch," Kemla cried. "I still don't think I've recovered."

Several of the other girls comforted her all the way back to camp.

#### Dindi

The next morning, Dindi kept glancing sidelong to try to catch a peek at Kavio as everyone washed and prepared to travel. He was on the boys' side of the river, of course, around the bend and out of sight as the girls bathed and painted on the kohl blindfolds of Initiates. Sadly, Dindi had to wear her old wrap again--she would have much preferred to wear the wonderful weave that Kavio had lent her. She still hadn't had a chance to return it to him.

Instead of Kavio, however, Zavaedi Brena called her aside to speak with her.

"Dindi," the older woman said. "I'm sorry. Your friend has just told us he has no name."

"He has a name, it's--"

"He has no clan and no tribe. Dindi, child--he's an exile."

She felt cold. "So?"

"So we cannot permit an exile to travel with us."

"But he saved me..."

"Which is why you must be there when I tell him that he may not travel with us."

Her stomach turned. "Must we do this?"

"He's a criminal, an outcaste. He has no place with us. He must agree that the lifedebt is settled, he must agree to demand nothing else from you, or from us. He helped you, we repay him, and that's all he can expect from us. Come with me, and bring one of the guest gifts your family gave you for barter."

Having seen the quality of the textiles that Kavio possessed, Dindi wondered what she could possibly give him that he would consider worthy. A chert scrapper? No. A flint arrowhead? No, he probably had arrowheads made from obsidian. A set of tear-shaped stone loom weights? Fa, he didn't build those muscles sitting on a balcony weaving.

"I have no worthy gifts," she said.

Zavaedi Brena clucked her tongue. "He's just a clanless beggar, child, I'm sure a simple thing will suffice. Here." She pulled out a small pottery bowl embossed with the swan design of Dindi's clan. "This will do. Now, come."

Dindi took the bowl and also the cloth he had lent her. Miserably, she followed Zavaedi Brena. They crossed the log to the boys' side of the river to find Kavio.

"Careful, Dindi!" cried out the first boy to see her, Tamio. "Don't fall in again!"

Tamio and the other boys laughed. _Another 'stupid Dindi trick' I'll never live down._ She did her best to ignore the jibe.

"Where is Kavio?" Zavaedi Brena asked severely. Tamio sobered at once.

"You mean the stranger?" Tamio jerked a thumb. "Further down the river."

They followed the river. In the dawn light, the fae gamboling in the water were completely different in nature than those who had been churning the water the evening before. Now smiling Blue naiads and undines splashed there. They waved innocently at Dindi.

Kavio knelt over a still pool at the river's edge, carefully applying a thick paste of ash and mud to his face and upper body. When he stood up, he no longer looked like the same warrior who had rescued her. His face looked lumpen and strange. His bright eyes sparkled eerily from the mask of mud. They seemed to pierce right through her. Then he inclined his head to acknowledge Zavaedi Brena.

He knew why they'd come.

Zavaedi Brena paused, tense and worried. In a low voice, she said to Dindi, "There is a chance he might not accept the gift. By tradition, he is entitled to demand whatever he wishes. If he demands anything...inappropriate...let me deal with it."

Dindi nodded. She wondered what the older woman meant by "inappropriate".

"Stranger," Zavaedi Brena called out. "This child brings you payment for the life you saved. Will you agree that the debt is settled and move on?"

Zavaedi Brena waited tensely.

"Yes," Kavio said, without any inflection. "I understand. I'll move on alone."

"Go ahead, give it to him," Zavaedi Brena nudged Dindi. "I'll be right here."

Dindi walked forward. How she hated this.

"Kavio," she said. She bit her lip. He had saved her life. How could she tell him he wasn't worthy of accompanying their party? To buy time, she held out the fabric he'd given her, neatly folded again. "Um, here's your cloth. Thank you for lending it to me."

He took it silently.

"You're an exile." _Stupid. He knows that._

"Yes," he said. Just one word. He waited for her to go on.

"Here...this is all I have to give you," she said, lowering her lashes because she couldn't bear to meet his eyes when she handed him the bowl. She added in a whisper, "I'm sorry. I guess my life isn't worth much."

Her whole body trembled.

"I accept it," he said. "Don't worry. I won't be bothering you again."

He shouldered his traveling basket without further discussion. But the look he gave her before he walked away wounded her like a spear.

Chapter Six

## Stone Hedge

#### Dindi

Another week's travel brought them at last to Yellow Bear tribehold. Looking out over the valley, Dindi rocked back on her heels. She had seen this place before, through Vessia's eyes. Perhaps the leaves crinkling beneath her feet hid the skulls stomped upon by the army of the Bone Whistler.

Abiono pointed to five tall hills that dotted a river valley.

"The Tors of Yellow Bear. Hertio the Mound Builder, War Chief of Yellow Bear tribe, has promised the matriarchs and patriarchs of the tribe he will build seven Tors in all. He's been building up the tribehold for many years now. His ambition is make Yellow Bear tribehold rival the Rainbow Labyrinth."

"Is that possible?" asked Tamio, his pride prickled.

Abiono shrugged. "He has added two Tors in twenty-two years, but he is old now, and was supposed to step down as War Chief already a year past. It depends if the War Chief after him wishes to complete his project."

Dindi shivered. Hertio the Mound Builder. She recognized the name. In Vessia's time, there had only been three Tors: the Tor of the Sun, the Tor of the Moon, and the Tor of the Stone Hedge. The fourth and fifth hills were barely older than the Initiates.

Atop the Tor of the Stone Hedge, there were no houses, only three circles of giant megaliths, one inside the other. At this distance it looked foreboding. And old. Even in the Vision, the Tor of the Stone Hedge had already looked dark and ancient.

Until now, Dindi had imagined Vessia had lived long ago and far away, in the time of legends before humans and Aelfae had fought. To find herself following just twenty years behind the footsteps of the Corn Maiden unnerved Dindi.

_Vessia might still be alive. I might meet her._

The scale of the tribehold gradually sank in as they spent half a day just crossing the folded river and its fields to reach the mound next to the incomplete one. This fourth settlement looked different too; the houses weren't beehive domes, but longhouses that formed neat parallel rows across the round, flat hill top. Once the travelers walked up the narrow raised path and into the hold, Dindi realized why. There were no ordinary families living here. All of the people who poured out of the longhouses to meet them were other Initiates or Tavaedies.

Hundreds of children had gathered for the Initiation. The majority of them, of course, were Yellow Bear tribesfolk, but there were a few other clans from the Rainbow Labyrinth present as well.

The Tavaedies assigned the children to longhouses based upon age and gender. Jensi, Gwena and Kemla were all assigned to Fourth House, while Dindi and Gwenika were assigned to Ninth House. Amidst the sea of strangers, even an extra week of acquaintance felt like familiarity, so Gwenika clung to Dindi's side as if they were clan sisters. The long houses had no sleeping platforms, just dirt floors and reed mats. Each girl staked out her spot along the north or south wall, and marked it with her own basket of things. They both contributed a few scraps of cloth to make a separate bed for Puddlepaws, but he sniffed this once, then curled up in the middle of Dindi's mat.

The diseased yeech had left Gwenika alone during the last week of the journey, but the day after their arrival, the yeech attacked with renewed vehemence. Gwenika broke out into a rash and a fever. While the other Initiates left to explore the tribehold, Dindi stayed by her side all day, patting her head with a damp cloth and brewing her tea. Gwenika's grandmother had fortunately packed the leaves in the travel basket.

"I don't know why Gwena hates me so much."

"Shhh," said Dindi, dabbing Gwenika's tear-stained and rash-red cheeks with a cloth. "Just rest as much as you're able."

Thinking of Gwena reminded Dindi of the corncob doll. The thing was definitely a menace. Just touching it appeared to set off the magic Visions. But what could she do to protect herself from the doll? She couldn't just throw it away...

"They're coming for me again," Gwenika whispered. "The yeech."

The ugly Yellow fae rode rats that scampered in the thatch of the lodge roof. A line of them crawled furtively down a wooden post, toward the girls. Unlike most fae, they didn't want to be seen. If she looked directly, she saw nothing but the thatch and the post, but if she cocked her head, she could see the flicker of light out of the corner of her eye. As before, the yeech were following a trail of yellow light.

"It looks like something is leading them to you," said Dindi.

Gwenika bit her lip and Dindi could tell that the same thought had already occurred to her. Then she did a double take.

"You can see them too?"

"Just a little--like a flickering candle. Do you want more of your grandmother's brew?"

Dindi pored some more from the clay jar in the hearth into a bowl, but Gwenika pushed it away.

"No, it's too bitter." Suddenly, Gwenika sat up. She grabbed Dindi's wrist. "What if I've been wrong all along? What if it wasn't my sister? What if it was my grandmother?"

"Why would your grandmother hex you?"

"She and my m other were always arguing. She thought that my mother shouldn't push both of us to be Tavaedies. One Tavaedi in the family was enough. What if she didn't want to kill me, only to keep me from becoming a Tavaedi?"

Dindi considered. "Maybe we could follow the yellow rope of light to see where it leads."

"Yes!" Gwenika chewed her lip. "Unless it leads to a horrible troll as tall as a tree who eats us."

"If a troll eats a sick person, does it make the troll sick?"

"I'd rather not find out."

The snakes of yellow light bit into golden aura around Gwenika's body. Her aura, Dindi thought, recalling what she had seen in the Vision. They followed the thickest strand of light up the post and across the room. Gwenika could see it much more clearly than Dindi, who saw only a flicker. They had to climb into the rafters of the lodge.

"Are you sure you can do this?" Dindi asked.

"It will probably kill me," said Gwenika. "There's still time to talk me out of it."

They followed the shimmery trail of light all the way down the lodge, creeping from beam to beam in the framework. The golden rope led down again and then back across the floor to the other side, then climbed once more into the rafters, then across the room...

"The fiend is clever," huffed Gwenika. "She's hiding her handiwork and leading us in circles!"

"Gwenika!" Dindi stopped in her tracks so abruptly the other girl bumped into her from behind. "Don't you see what's going on here? The strands of light are coming from you. That's why we're climbing in circles. Your aura is shining so brightly it's attracting the yeech. You hexed yourself!"

She gently reached to massage Gwenika's shoulders and neck, the area where the cords of light seemed thickest. The aura flexed and twisted under her touch. Now Dindi saw that there were several other colors embedded in the aura, just slivers, outshone by the gold, but still there. Gentle movements of her hands over Gwenika's back strengthened the other colors. The yellow strings fell away.

The yeech howled in frustration. Without the path of light, they weren't able to proceed any further. Hissing and growling, they skittered away.

Gwenika batted her hands away. "Leave me alone! If you don't believe how sick I am, you could have just said so. You didn't have to pretend to believe me and then say it was all my fault. You sound just like my mother!"

"Maybe your mother is right. You have to figure out what you're doing to yourself and stop it. I know how terrible I would feel if anything made me miss my chance to be a Tavaedi. I wouldn't want that to happen to you either."

"I hope I'm _not_ chosen. All my life, it's all I've heard, you have to be a Tavaedi, you have to be a Tavaedi, and I'm _sick_ of it!"

Gwenika clapped her hand over her own mouth. "Oh!"

#### Brena

"Each of you will be Tested for magic upon the Tor of the Stone Hedge," Zavaedi Brena instructed her flock. By tradition, none were the Initiates she'd arrived with, so she could not show favoritism toward her own kin. Elsewhere, in front of the longhouses, other Tavaedies gave similar instructions to other groups of adolescents. "Those of you who have magic will learn the secrets of the Tavaedies. The rest of you will learn the responsibilities of manhood and womanhood. For some lessons, all three groups will assemble together; otherwise, Tavaedies, warriors and maidens will meet separately.

"Wear your totem doll on a cord around your neck," she added. "You will present it after the Testing to whomever will be your new teacher, and receive a totem of adulthood in turn."

She shooed the Initiates into two long columns, boys and girls, to trek from the Tor of the Initiates to the Tor of the Stone Hedge. They wore their tribal colors. Also, they had to don again the blindfolds and submit to having their hands tied behind their backs.

Though she kept sharp watch over her assigned charges, Brena also glanced from time to time at her daughters, who were in another group. Tension knotted her belly like labor cramps. She suspected she was more nervous than they were. The night of her own Initiation had been the worst and best of her life. She forced herself to take deep breaths.

Three rings of menhirs, upright slabs of granite, formed concentric circles on the flat summit of the hill. If one looked closely, one could see strange symbols etched into the stones. No one knew what the glyphs represented or who had put them there. It was believed that the Aelfae had built the circle of stones, and inscribed them, but others said the Brundorfae had done it, and others, that the Deathsworn had built the monument. Some said all three shared in the building of the rings, one ring each.

The Zavaedies and Tavaedies in charge of the Initiates rolled away a huge stone from a hole in the ground. They drove the blindfolded children down the hole, into the darkness. Remembering again her own Initiation, the stark fear, the chill close brush of death, then warm stroking hands, Brena's stomach roiled. _Oh, my daughters, I'm sorry. You have to face the darkness on your own._

Once the last child had descended into the dark, the adults rolled the stone back over the hole, sealing them under the earth. They took their position just inside the innermost ring of stones, to begin their long vigil.

#### Rthan

Rthan and his men slipped the canoe into the river. He leaped in first. The warriors climbed in and crouched behind him. All were dressed in full war regalia. Meira, his daughter who was not his daughter, glowed blue from her seat in the prow, where she leaned on the graven head of the war canoe. She looked so small and out of place, like a child playing where she didn't belong.

As if sensing his continued reticence, she turned to him with his daughter's solemn face. "Never forget what they did to me and mama."

He saw again the hideously charred bodies, burnt and twisted. He didn't need her reminders or her faery games.

"It wasn't you they murdered." He reminded himself more than her, not from disloyalty but for his sanity's sake. Of late, he found it easier and easier to forget who she really was. "You're immortal."

"I speak for her because she can never again speak for herself." The blue faery child didn't flinch. "Will you avenge me, Daddy?"

He tightened his grip on the oars and maneuvered the boat into the swiftest part of the current. He could hear the water slapping the sides of other boats setting out from shore, an entire war party. The glow from her body illuminated the moonless night, highlighting ripples on the black waters.

"I will avenge you, Meira, I swear it," he said.

#### Kavio

Kavio noted the changes to the Tors of Yellow Bear since his first visit eight years ago. It had seemed bigger then--he'd only been ten years old--but that was the distortion of a child's awe. He remembered running down the crazy, curvy paths between the beehive shaped houses, first in play, again after the old man tried to kill him. He recalled the jingle of gold bangles on the ankles and wrists of Hertio's daughter Lulla and the smell of the boiling nuggets from the smelting ovens.

Beyond the tors, across the river, the land sloped up into a forest of giant sequoias. The oaks and sycamores at their knees bowed before them like conquered warriors. His father's army had camped on those slopes, keen to make peace but prepared to wage war. Finally, he made himself look at the Unfinished Tor, where he had killed another human being for the first time, and almost started that war.

He could still feel the old man's breath on his neck, stinking of beer and rotted teeth, shouting, Your father murdered my son, and I will pay his deathdebt with your blood. It was the first time Kavio had met anyone who did not regard his father as a savior, and after that terrible day, and the terrible night one moon later, upon the Tor of the Stone Hedge, he had never looked at his father the same way again.

In Yellow Bear, Kavio had known terror, humiliation and disillusionment, he'd spilled human blood, and been abandoned to die as a slave. It felt like home. If Hertio would welcome him--by no means a certain thing--did he dare settle here? His allies expected him to appeal to Yellow Bear for assistance. His enemies no doubt expected it too. Deep in his gut, he had an uneasy premonition that if he stayed here it would cost blood; no last minute human sacrifice would stave off war this time.

_I'm sorry Yellow Bear. I must pass you by,_ he bid the tribehold, and turned his feet south to follow the river downstream, toward the ocean.

The valley of the Tors was large enough that by evening, Kavio could still see the final tor, the Tor of the Stone Hedge. Along the river, bomas for lookout scouts, made from wood and branches, guarded the tribehold from strangers like him. Several of these scouts noted his progress, but did not challenge him when they saw he was alone and skirting around the edge of the valley.

Toward midnight, they stopped watching him and looked in another direction. Following their interest, he saw two columns of tiny figures walk up the hill, the leaders holding torches against the darkness.

_The Initiation,_ he thought. In the Labyrinth, it was slightly different. It took place in the stone maze beneath the tribehold. Nonetheless, he recognized the ceremony. His own Initiation had not been but three years ago. Unwillingly, his thoughts skipped to the young Initiate girl, Dindi. _Let it be,_ he warned himself. _It's no use casting nets where you can't fish._ Spurred on by that unhappy thought, he decided to press on without camping for the night.

The new moon shed little light on the river at his side, but in the distance, other lights sparkled on the river like sapphire glitter. Coming upstream. Kavio tensed. The lights must be on boats. Who would be boating upstream in the middle of the night? Illuminated by what? Torchlights?

_No,_ he realized. _Fae lights._ That eerie blue iridescence looked nothing like the yellow-orange of ordinary fire.

He crept closer, crouched behind river reeds for concealment. The lights were still far downstream, but he could make out the silhouettes of bark-sided boats with carved wooden prows. Blue fae perched on top of each of the prows, their phantasmagoric faces uglier than the carvings meant to represent them. Behind the fae, each boat contained one Tavaedi in blue regalia, and a handful of tattooed bare-chested, muscular warriors.

Blue Waters tribesmen, obviously. What was their goal? What could they hope to achieve? Kavio expected to hear the ram's horn sounded from one of the boma towers, but the lookouts appeared not to notice the boats.

The same fae light that reveals them to me, conceals the intruders from them, Kavio realized. The Yellow Bear scouts could not see the Blue, which meant that the Blue Waters warriors could hit at least one target quickly before Yellow Bear could muster its own warriors in defense. Where? Oh. Of course. They must know that tonight is the Initiation. Two hundred vulnerable captives, perfect hostages...half of them girls just on the brink of womanhood.

Kavio almost stumbled with relief when he saw a sept of Yellow Bear warriors rushing to meet him.

"We haven't much time," he gasped between heavy breaths, "We must intercept them before they attain the high ground of the tor..."

The warriors aimed their spears at him. The sept leader chewed a leaf, supremely unalarmed. "Throw down your weapons and come with us."

"Are you mad? I'm not your enemy. Your enemy is attacking the Tor of the Stone Hedge! They're trying to capture the Initiates!"

"I don't see any enemy but you."

"Boats are coming up the river..."

"Our scouts would have seen them. They saw only you. Why were you running toward our tribehold?"

"To warn you, you squash-headed buffoons..."

The sept-leader punched Kavio in the gut just as two warriors to either side of him grabbed his arms. He resisted the urge to fight his way free. If he bashed their skulls together, it would make his point more difficult to convey.

"I'm on your side," he repeated. "I'm from the Rainbow Labyrinth, I'm an ally."

"We'll let Hertio decide that," said the sept-leader.

"There's no time, there could be a massacre by then!"

The sept-leader curled his lip. "Sure." Several of the warriors snickered. "Take him. If he fights, kill him."

#### Dindi

You never forget the night of your Initiation.

Always, you are taken by force. By now you know the rough hands twisting your arms and blindfolding you belong to your own kinsmen, but this doesn't reassure you, since by now, also, you have heard the other Initiates whisper legends that some children will die during the rite. The tribe has no use for the weak.

Switches, whittled from green saplings, strong and springy, sting the back of your thighs to herd you down stone steps, into some kind of underground cavern. The stone beneath your bare feet is unhewn, too rough for a kiva. The chamber narrows, until you have to crawl, but your hands are tied behind your back, so you writhe like a worm. Gravel grinds under your belly and cuts up your knees.

You aren't aware of faint light at the edges of your blindfold until even that tiny splinter of light is extinguished. The darkness that follows is so heavy it feels like a rock sitting on your chest. The breathing of the Initiates around you merges into a single rhythm of in-breath and out-breath, as if the cave itself gasped and heaved.

They've put a stone over the hole, someone whimpers.

Hush, whisper a dozen others. Initiates are not permitted to talk.

A hiss and the pungent smell of urine. No one admits to pissing themselves, but sniggers and curses lash out against the unseen coward. Disembodied conversations turn into a competition between complainers and those trying to enforce the rule of silence.

Hours of dark teach you to see shapes in sound. You assign faces from memory to a cough, a murmur, a hum. Like bloated rats, bodies skritch past, using one another at guideposts, and you feel the passage of someone's long hair across your shoulder, the press of bone beads from a costume into your arm. When you find yourself squeezed too tightly between an unwashed boy and the ticklish smell of bobbing feathers from a girl's headdress, you wriggle yourself free. By now, no one obeys the stricture against silence, so you add your voice to the coos in the darkness, seeking friends. You find Gwenika.

You snuggle back to back against your friend, so you can untie each other's bindings. Thereafter you stay side by side, hand in hand, despite the heat. For the cave is sweltering, not cold as you generally expect caves to be. Reaching up, you feel the ceiling right above you where you crouch; you could not stand if you tried. There are over a hundred bodies crushed into a cave no higher than a badger. The stench of urine is stronger now, but the sweat is even more overpowering. The spicy breath from someone who mangles your knee as he crawls by makes your stomach roil. It is a sign of how hungry you are that even this foul reminder brings to mind stacks of round, flat bread freshly toasted in the oven and piled with cheese, beans and onions.

You and Gwenika exchange confidences in tones pitched low enough for just each other. For once, she doesn't complain about all the exotic diseases she has suffered. She doesn't whine at all. Her voice is dreamy as she describes pets she's had over the years, a long string of frogs, gophers and sparrows. Creatures she found injured and nursed to health. She describes the sycamore trees around her clanhold, their pale trunks perfect for climbing, and the kinds of songbirds which nest there. You talk about the hills of your home, how trails wind by sudden vistas and cliffs overlook waterfalls which shower into a cloud of rainbow mist. You don't admit to dancing with the fae because even here, even now, where the darkness spills secrets, you have secrets you don't know how to share.

What you would do for a jug of cool water.

You ask if she's ever killed or kissed anyone. No, she says. What about you? No. Would you ever? If he forced me to, you say, and she says, forced you to kiss? No, no, forced me to kill. You both giggle madly as if this is much funnier than it really is. You admit your greatest fear is to die by fire, and she says her greatest fear is to die alone, in the dark. She squeezes your hand tighter.

The darkness is like an animal now, panting hotly against your neck, squeezing your chest. The air tastes stale. Gulping it faster doesn't help.

Discontent rumbles across the Initiates like a wave on a night sea. The air is running out. We will suffocate. We must free ourselves. Maybe this is the true test? Maybe this is what we must do to prove ourselves worthy of adulthood in the tribe? If we all push against the rock covering the entrance, we can lift the stone.

The stone cannot be lifted--it cannot even be found. Hundreds of hands trace the rock walls. Hundreds of fingers scratch frantically for a crevice or a crack. It is as though the entrance never existed, entombing you all in solid rock.

Others keep looking, but you decide it is a waste of breath, breath more precious now than bread or water. Gwenika will not let go of your hand. You don't chide her even when you fear she might crush your knuckles into one shapeless lump. You whisper, We'll be fine, but you are thinking about the legends of the children of Initiations past who didn't survive. Your hand closes around the corncob doll you wear on a gut string around your neck.

Gwenika says, once she helped a fawn that had broken its leg. She kept a splint tied to its lame leg all through the summer. When winter came, the fawn had grown into a deer and could walk again. But I will never heal another deer, adds Gwenika. Why not? My mother slit its throat and we ate it, says Gwenika. I didn't want to, but we were very hungry that winter.

#### Brena

By the time Brena realized the shadows rushing toward her were actually men, she had no time to escape. The warriors swarmed out from behind the megaliths, overrunning the Tavaedies and Zavaedies who were standing vigil.

Not since she'd been her daughters' age had Brena fought in hand-to-hand combat, but she did her best to fend off the attackers. A barrel-chested thug pounded toward her, but she ducked into a roll under his feet, came up and hit him on the head from behind with her wooden mask, the only weapon she had. All around her, she could see the other Yellow Bear and Rainbow Labyrinth Tavaedies fighting overwhelming odds. Abiono killed one of his assailants, but two more bore him down and tied him up.

Thudding steps brought her attention back to her own plight. This time she threw the mask in the attacker's face as he neared her, then turned to run...

...smack into another enemy warrior.

She had a quick impression of blue eyes, tattooed cheek, black hair, a chest that was nothing but wave after wave of muscle, also tattooed, and a terrifying masculine rumble. Then the barbarian with arms like tree trunks tossed her over his shoulder and loped away. Her short hair, no longer pinned under her mask, came free in a halo of damp curls.

He deposited her next to a megalith where the Blue Waters warriors were herding their captives. She tried to hit him, but her effort only placed her wrist in easy reach of his huge hands. He twisted her arm behind her back, snagged her other arm without problem, and trussed her up deftly. Then he grinned at her, like a boy at mischief.

He was no boy, however, but a warrior, probably a Zavaedi, in his prime. Scars inscribed a history of many battles across his otherwise impeccably fit physique. Like all Blue Waters warriors, his hair had been shaved close to his head everywhere except for a pony tail of braids down one side, next to his ear. The number of braids recorded the number of kills he'd made, and this man wore too many tiny, beaded braids for her to count. A tattoo of a salmon and three moons on his left cheek denoted his marital clan affiliation, which meant he had a wife and family back home.

More captives arrived, bound and surrounded by enemies. Counting, Brena realized that no one had escaped. Nor had she heard any ram's horn sound from the watchtowers in the valley. Yet, for some reason, the Blue Waters warriors were keeping them alive.

It soon became clear why.

The leader of the war party, an ugly man with a seagull clan tattoo on his cheek paced before the captives.

"Tell us how to enter the kiva under this place," Gull Face commanded.

Dread scraped over her nerves like physical pain. None of the Zavaedies or Tavaedies spoke, but Gull Face had expected their resistance. He gestured to Salmon Face, Brena's own captor.

"You've earned first choice, Rthan. What about this one?" He grabbed one of the young female Tavaedies by the hair, jerking her head back.

Salmon Face--Rthan--walked right by the young woman, to loom over Brena. He pulled her to her feet. "This one."

"Suit yourself," shrugged Gull Face. He continued to distribute the captives while Rthan dragged Brena across the clearing to one of the stones in the circle. Her hands were tied in front of her body to a long rope. Rthan tossed the rope over the top of the megalith and staked it into the ground on the other side with his spear. The tension in the rope pulled her to her tip-toes, arms stretched above her head.

He displayed a shell knife. "Don't make me do this."

"You should be ashamed of yourself, murdering innocent children!"

"Once they come out of that kiva, they won't be children any longer. Besides, better to kill the cubs before they grow into full-fledged bears. Why not? Your people murder our children, down to the helpless babes. We only wish to wipe out those who are about to become dangerous."

Rthan put the knife to her throat and stroked down. Brena squeezed her eyes shut, anticipating pain; instead, a cool breeze touched her breasts. He cut away her outer Tavaedi costume piece by piece. The tatters puddled at her feet. Beneath the outer mantle, she only wore a breechcloth and bands to support her breasts.

"You're an animal!" she said.

"I don't want to hurt you, but I obey my War Chief," Rthan said. "Look around you."

She peeked to either side. There were twenty-one prisoners in all, seven Zavaedies and fourteen Tavaedies, to match the number of megaliths in the inner circle. In a grotesque perversion of the ritual they had come to perform, each captive had been hoisted naked against a stone. Some of the Blue Waters warriors commenced to whip the naked captives. Cries of human suffering despoiled the sacred space.

Gull Face strode from stone to stone, surveying his men's grisly handiwork.

"We're just getting started," Gull Face said. "This will only end when you decide to tell us what we want to know. Whoever tells us first will be spared. The rest of you will have lost your opportunity to end this torment. We will continue this until you die." When Gull Face passed Rthan, he asked in surprise, "What are you waiting for? This is our chance to avenge Lyass."

Rthan flipped Brena face and belly to the stone. The cold seeped through her bare skin.

She heard the whip snap a moment before a snake of fire slithered over her back. She couldn't swallow her shriek. The pause lasted just long enough for her to anticipate the next blow with mounting fear. Then another agonizing sting bit her bare buttocks. Dread swelled in another long pause. By the third lash of the whip, she began to sob into her arm.

A hand brushed her hair back from her wet cheek. A soft, deep voice. "Tell me what we need to know, so I can stop. I hate hurting you."

"You were eager enough to chose me to torture." She tried to twist away from him, but only succeeded in wiggling her side to the rock.

"It was the only way I could keep some control over your fate." He leaned closer, whispering, "Please. Help me end this."

"I don't care what you do to me, I'll not let you take my daughters." She twisted to glare at him, helpless in her rage and bile. Hate thawed the icy grip of terror. Gwenika was only fourteen.

A flash of something that almost looked like empathy crossed his face.

"Your daughters are Initiates? But no, you're too young to be a Zavaedi and have daughters that age."

She had no intention of explaining her life story to this fish faced brute. She merely snarled at him.

"If you let me in first, before the others, I will claim your daughters as my slaves," he said. "I'll protect them."

"Take them, you mean."

"I have no desire for the green fruit when I can have the ripe one." He stepped closer to her side, so that his body heat radiated off her breasts.

"Isn't your own wife ripe enough for you?"

The mix of compassion and desire vanished from his face, replaced by hard, cold, old rage. "My wife and child were murdered in a sneak raid by Yellow Bear warriors, slain in their sleep while all the men were fishing at sea." He pressed himself closer, skin to skin. Lust washed into his anger. "It's only fair turn around that I should take back something from your people."

He turned her face and smothered her lips with his mouth. The sensation shocked her, awakening a vivid memory of the night of her own Initiation: The sounds of keening, rustling bodies, the mold in the cave that had made her sneeze. And hands. Male hands, freed from their bindings though she herself remained tied up. The hands had stroked her without asking. She'd been too afraid to speak--they'd been told not to--she had been confused and terrified, wondering if this was part of the Initiation. And so the boy who would become her husband later that year had forced her back to the rock ground, parted her legs and wriggled himself onto her. She hadn't protested. The whole time she was sure she would die. He took his pleasure quickly the first time, but the night dragged on many hours. He never untied her. He stayed by her side and played with her body, idly, and under his roaming, possessive fingers, she peaked. She had often dreamed of that night since, and awakened feeling aroused and guilty.

Rthan broke off the kiss and knocked his forehead against the slab of stone. "Let me protect you and your family." He sounded hoarse with need, almost pleading. Pulling back, he looked her in the eyes and rubbed her kiss-bruised lips with his thumb. "You have no good choices. Your people will not discover us until after we're gone. There will be a massacre. We are avenging years of raids of your people against our tribe. But some prisoners may be spared--your daughters can be among them.

"If any other warrior takes them, he will make them his slave girls, but I swear by the Blue Lady, I will ask only you to my bed. Your body can guarantee their safety. No one else will offer you that bargain. Take it. I beg you. Agree to surrender yourself to me."

She knew something that he did not. The underground chamber was not a true kiva, but a natural cave with only one opening. Once the opening was covered, the air would run out if the Initiates were not released soon. Brena shut her eyes against the turmoil she felt. "How do I know you'll keep your word?"

"I won't betray you."

"All men betray women. I've learned that the hard way."

He leaned closer, husky and hypnotic. "Then you haven't met real men."

A scream pierced the night, one of the other torture victims, followed by surprised shouts. He ignored the scream, but the shouts evidently disturbed him, for he turned around to identify their source.

#### Kavio

Kavio finally found the simplest way to encourage the Yellow Bear warriors to see for themselves the danger to the Tor of the Stone Hedge. He kicked his guards in the chins, shins and bellies, then raced toward the tor, with them stampeding after him. Now they blew their horns, rousing still more warriors, from the Tor of the Sun and the Tor of the Moon. A satisfactory mass of armed men followed him up the hill and burst over the rim.

The Yellow Bear warriors had been expecting to corner one man. When they stumbled into an armed camp of enemy warriors, they slid to a stop, croaking in surprise like startled frogs.

Fortunately, the Blue Waters tribesmen proved no more prepared. Engrossed in the task of torturing the captives they had already overwhelmed, they had no appetite for a battle between equals. The Yellow Bear warriors regained their advantage first, pushed into berserker rage by the sight of their honored Tavaedies suffering abuse. Howling in fury, they smashed the skulls of their foes with stone clubs. The grassy hilltop between the upright stones turned slick with splattered brains and spilled intestines. A critical part of Kavio's mind noted lost opportunities that the Yellow Bear warriors might have exploited, had they better organization or strategy. Raw fury and blind slaughter, though less elegant, did begin to dent the ranks of their foes.

Kavio wove his own patterns of mayhem. The last time he had been to the Tor of the Stone Hedge, he had been on his knees with a knife to his throat, hostage to a broken treaty, helpless human sacrifice. His father had given Hertio permission to kill him to pay the deathdebt between Rainbow Labyrinth and Yellow Bear. Kavio remembered the sweet onions he'd been given for his last meal, the coldness of the obsidian pressed to his jugular. The turf had been muddy, and his knees sank when he kneeled. A beetle had crawled up his leg while Hertio intoned the ritual farewell; he remembered thinking it would reach his thigh by the time his throat was slit. He'd desired then to do what he had no choice but to do now, slaughter every man who dared come at him with a weapon.

The same flips and spins that aided his dancing found lethal application in the chaos of combat. Though many of the Blue Waters warriors were themselves Tavaedies, no strangers to martial acrobatics, none could match Kavio for speed and precision. The tall stone slabs created the perfect foil for him to run up and leap backwards over the heads of his opponents. He dispensed foe after foe in a few brief moves. The mud that had once caked his near naked body could no longer be seen beneath a new patina, the gore of battle.

As he fought, he also strove to free the captives tied to the menhirs, whenever possible. Borrowing an ax from a Blue Waters warrior no longer capable of wielding it, considering his missing arm, Kavio was about to cut free a handsome, naked woman bound to a stone, when he chanced to recognize her. He missed a step. Though they'd not been formally introduced, he knew she was the Zavaedi who had told Dindi he was an exile and not to be trusted. Zavaedi Brena, he had heard her called.

Apparently her opinion of him had not improved. Her eyes widened when she saw him, then narrowed in outrage.

"Traitor!" she cried. "Exile! Were you working to lead our enemies here all along?"

The absurd accusation helped clear his head. He lifted his ax, ignored her wince - did she really think he intended her harm? - and cut the cords binding her wrists.

Brena fell into the churned up grass. She looked more confused than grateful. Yet she must have re-evaluated which side he was on, for just as Kavio bent to help her up, she pointed behind him. "Watch out!"

He rolled out of the way just in time to avoid the blow from a huge warrior.

Rthan.

Not bothering to bandy words, Kavio aimed a kick for the man's jugular. Belying his bulk, Rthan moved swiftly, without wasted movement. He grappled Kavio by the ankle, twisting his face into the mud. Kavio performed a bouncing push-up and donkey kick that sent Rthan reeling, but he recovered with a back roll, and came back up punching the air where Kavio would have been if he hadn't spun away. Then the fight picked up pace.

Hot, hard, and fast, blow after blow, spin and kick they exchanged, neither able to smack the other down for long before he rebounded for more action. By now they were the last two still fighting. The rest of the Blue Waters warriors were either face down in the mud, prisoners, or face up in their blood, corpses. A circle of Yellow Bear warriors surrounded the two combatants. Rthan noticed his predicament, but instead of surrendering to the inevitable, he hunkered down into the fight, faster and harder and meaner than ever. Kavio gestured to the rest to leave him his kill, which they respected.

The tiniest bit of ill luck decided the outcome for Rthan when his ankle caught on a disconnected arm. On a roll, Kavio picked up a fallen spear and dove toward that massive chest in the final, mortal blow. Seeing his doom, Rthan spread his arms and roared a welcome to Lady Death.

From behind, a wooden mask clubbed the Blue Waters warrior on the head, dropping him like an axed tree. The spear whizzed harmlessly overhead. Rthan was already unconscious in the mud.

Zavaedi Brena held the mask. Kavio glanced at her curiously. "I think you saved his life."

"Did I?" she asked coolly.

"Though I suspect he would have preferred death in combat to the slavery and torture that surely await him."

"Enough blood has been spilled," she said in disgust. She threw down the mask. Grime streaked her cheeks like tears. "This sacred place has been defiled, and the very children we fought to protect will die because of it."

"But we won."

"Even so." She met his eyes with such hollow despair that he recoiled. "The kiva beneath this tor is no ordinary chamber. It was crafted by the fae, and can only be opened by magic. But we cannot dance it open until the entire hill has been cleansed of blood. By then, the children will have died from lack of air."

Kavio, remembering his own Initiation well enough, understood. Initiation made children taste their mortality. Now, however, mock tomb would turn true tomb.

Brena collapsed to her knees, hopeless past weeping.

Chapter Seven

## Test

#### Dindi

Each breath hurt.

Voices from the darkness had been complaining about feelings of suffocation since the stone had been rolled over the exit, but now it was no figment of a nervous imagination. The air smelled rank. Dindi had thought thirst would kill them before hunger, but it seemed asphyxiation would beat out both. No one could deny it now: they had been abandoned to die. Quiet weeping echoed from somewhere. No one hushed or chided the weeper.

What had happened to the Tavaedies? Did they lie dead in heaps from war or plague, or had they chosen to sacrifice the children to the Deathsworn for some dark purpose? All the theories had been advanced, hashed and rehashed, debated, refuted and revised. They still knew nothing, except that they were going to die.

"Dindi, I don't feel well," Gwenika said. She sounded awful.

"You have to hold on."

"I don't think I can." Even more breathily, "I'm not sure I want to. I'm so tired of fighting. I just want to let go."

She sounded peaceful, which drove Dindi to panic. She shook Gwenika. "No! You can't rest! If you sleep, you'll never wake up!"

"If only we could hibernate like bears..." she trailed off.

"Gwenika? Gwenika!" No answer. Gwenika felt like a limp weight in Dindi's arms. Her body was still warm.

Dindi felt too tired to cry. The same lassitude that had stolen Gwenika away crept over her like a thief.

Hibernation reminded Dindi of something. A trance. She closed her hand around the corncob doll tied to the ribbon about her neck. Every time I go into the Visions of the corn cobdoll, time seems to slip by in a funny way. But wait--that will only help me. What about Gwenika? Is there any way I can extend the trance of the corncob doll to her?

Dindi wasn't sure, but she knew they would al

l die if she did nothing. Share,> she wished to the doll. Share with us all.

The Vision world appeared, as though superimposed upon the real world. Dindi could see both, yet it felt as though she didn't fully sit inside either. The Vision world extended as far as Gwenika.

Further. She tried to push it with her mind. Whether because of her silent command or some other cause, the Vision world billowed until another handful of Initiates fell under its glow. A few of them were still conscious and they blinked in surprise.

If she pushed too far, too hard, would she ruin what she'd already achieved? She feared to ask for too much. On the other hand, what if the alternative meant that the Initiates left out of the trance perished because time passed for them, breath by breath, until they ran out of air?

Further! Share with us all!

The Vision exploded.

#### Vessia

Vessia trailed the delegation from the Tor of the Sun. The agreement was that both sides would send a delegation to the Tor of the Stone Hedge, the megalith circle upon an artificial hill. They never noticed her, not even the War Chief Hertio, or her friend Danumoro, or any of the Tavaedies or warriors, because she kept to the shadows and backs of things. Stones thicker and taller than grown men stood like sentinels in three circles, one with in another, on the hill. The huge basalt rocks provided perfect cover.

Inside the innermost circle of stones, two half moon arcs of hide rugs had been set out. Each side stood facing one another, with the food piled in baskets on mats in between. Only Tavaedies and Zavaedies were present, and all wore full regalia. It had been the argument between Danu and the War Chief Hertio of the Yellow Bear tribehold, over what Hertio should wear, which had first alerted Vessia to this secret meeting. Danu had pressed him not to openly flaunt Yellow Bear's wealth, but Hertio had scoffed, "I won't go dressed like a beggar."

Hertio's costume jangled with so many disks of beaten gold that his shuffle to the center of the circle sounded like a flock of woodpeckers. The enemy wore a musk-scented robe of winter fox tails and his mask featured a wooden foot stepping on a bleached human skull. With their masks, the two leaders looked like eight-foot giants confronting each other. Vessia wondered if they would fight.

The man in gold bent to his knees in front of the man in white. A tangible groan swelled from the Yellow Bear onlookers, not so much heard as felt, like a subtle earth quake, a shared tremor of shame. Lower still bent the man in gold, until his mask sank into the grass. The man in white lifted a foxfur boot and stepped on Hertio's neck.

The man in white removed his foot-on-skull mask. "I spare your life and your tribehold in the name of my master, the Bone Whistler."

A jolt of recognition hit her when she saw the enemy leader. It was the handsome prisoner--Vio the Skull Stomper.

Hertio left his mask face first in the grass when he stood. Unlike Vio, who only looked haughtier with his face showing, Hertio had shrunk. The bulky gold costume now looked ridiculous with his tiny head sticking out from the wide shoulder spikes. He slunk back to his side. All Tavaedies of both sides removed their masks and sat down at the mats to feast. On the Yellow Bear side of the feasting court grim faced men and women picked at their food, eating only enough to avoid giving offense, while across from them the Rainbow Labyrinth Tavaedies gorged themselves and laughed at jokes they pitched too low for their hosts to hear.

On the enemy side, next to Vio the Skull Stomper stood a taller, thinner man who shared many of his features, including handsome charm. The third man lacked a lovely face. Judging by his bulging muscles, he did not lack strength. All three were much younger than the usual Zavaedies that Vessia had seen in the Yellow Bear tribehold. Danumaro had said that the Bone Whistler's whole army was like that, "because none of the elders would serve him."

At length, Vio made an announcement. "I am Vio the Skull Stomper, Purple Zavaedi to the Bone Whistler, of the Rainbow Labyrinth tribe. This is my brother Vumo, the One Horned Aurochs, the Green Zavaedi; and my friend Gidio the Bull, the Red Zavaedi. We are here on behalf of the War Chief of the Labyrinth, the Bone Whistler."

"We know who you are, Skull Stomper. What are your master's demands?"

"As you know, the Rainbow Labyrinth experienced a number of plagues some years ago." Vio leaned back, at his ease. "My master was called in to eliminate the plagues, which he did. But he did more. He found the source of the plague. Imorvae scum had been casting evil spells upon our people. He vowed to destroy all such hexers."

"We also experienced some blight to our crops and livestock," Hertio replied stiffly. "We did not find that any people were to blame, no matter what form of magic they practiced."

"You were mistaken," said Vio, unruffled. "Many-Banded Imorvae hexers were to blame. And some of them, unfortunately, escaped the great cleansing undertaken by my master."

Vio looked directly at Danumoro.

_The direction of the eyes indicates the direction of the thoughts,_ Vessia remembered Danumaro telling her. _Vio knows that Danomaro is one of the Imorvae who escaped._ > For some reason, this disquieted her.

"I repeat," said Hertio. "What are your master's demands?"

"The Bone Whistler has no wish to inflict the cruel wounds of war upon innocent people. Do you really want your tribehold to hear the wails of widows and orphans just to save a few outtribers?"

"I will not ask more than thrice," said Hertio. "What are your master's demands?"

"Surrender all of the Imorvae Tavaedies within the hold, and turn back any more that seek refuge in your lands," said Vio. "Do that, and he will spare you the blooded spear. Refuse and we will consider your defiance as a deathdebt unpaid."

"Then here is my answer," said Hertio. "Better the blooded spear of war than the broken dagger of an oathbreaker. I gave my word as a refuge to those in need, and my word will stand."

Vio laughed softly. "You know that you cannot resist once you hear the song of the Bone Flute. No one can."

"I know," said Hertio. "And that is why I have a counter offer."

Vio raised his brows.

"Your master has a Bone Flute that no one can resist. But I have a dancer whom no one can resist. We call her the Corn Maiden because she is as pretty as a living doll. If I give him the Corn Maiden, let him pass us by--"

"No!" shouted Danumoro, rising to his feet. "You cannot betray her! She is your guest too!"

"I have never given her my pledge," said Hertio sharply. "If she had accepted your offer of marriage, Danu, then I would never dream of turning her over, but she rejected you. You owe her nothing."

"It is not a matter of what I owe her, it is a matter of what is right," Danumoro said. Tears streaked his cheeks. He fell to one knee before Hertio. "I beg you, do not turn her over."

"It is too late," said Hertio. "I've already sent warriors to fetch her."

Danumoro shook his head.

Warriors, those Hertio had sent, Vessia presumed, entered the circle of stones. "She has fled!"

"This is a load of aurochs' dung," the enemy called Gidio said. "What is the point of this charade?"

"It is no charade, when you see the maiden dance, you will understand," said Hertio. The skin of his face beaded with sweat. "We will find her, she often wanders off, I doubt she has fled, and when you see her, you will gladly take her in place of everything you asked."

"One girl? I doubt it," said Vio.

"She's odd, but she's not stupid," said Danumoro. "She found out your plans, and ran away! You'll never find her."

"What are you so happy about?" Vio asked him. "If I had agreed to take her, it would have saved your life."

"I would never buy my life so steeply," Danomoru said.

Vessia stepped out from the shadows behind the megaliths and walked down the center of the grassy circle, until she stood directly between Vio and Hertio.

"There is no need to look for me," she said. "I am here. I will dance, if you like."

The three men stared at her as if they had never seen a woman before.

"I should have known he must have been speaking of you," said Vio the Skull Stomper. An expression almost like pain convulsed his face.

The one called Vumo whistled and said to Hertio, "You didn't exaggerate her beauty. Once we conquer you, I think I'll ask my master for her as my share of the war booty."

"You stinking carcass for vultures," said Danomoru.

Vumo laughed at him. "She already turned you down. How do you know I'm not just what she wants?"

Vessia looked him over. "You aren't."

This time Vio chuckled. He elbowed his brother. "So much for your charm with women, Vumo."

"I can win her over, just give me time," said Vumo. After some thought, he added, "And beer."

The three men laughed. Vio's eyes never left her though. He looked as though he wanted to devour her.

"You are a Tavaedi?" he asked.

"I dance."

"Imorvae, I suppose. Many-banded."

"I dance what I dance."

"Dance, then." Vio folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. Challenging her. "Let us see what's so irresistible."

Hertio clapped his hands and women who ducked their heads hurried to clear away the uneaten feast. No one spoke of moving to a dancing platform, nor did it occur to Vessia to ask. She began to dance. And all around her, the stones burst into light, and into song.

#### Dindi

Caught up in the Vision, Dindi still retained enough of herself to recognize the unearthly music that haunted the Corn Maiden's dance. The tune tormented her, it was so familiar. Where, where, where have I heard it before? She strained to hear, but there were no words.

Then she remembered.

The Corn Maiden was dancing the _tama_ of the Unfinished Song.

It was the simplest of dances. Bare feet on the grass, skipping in a circle, arms raised in joy. So stark, so beautiful. No wonder Mad Maba had thought she could do this tama, if she could do no other. Anyone, anyone at all, could dance this tama.

_I can dance it! I can learn it from watching her._

_If I only I can remember it. If only I can hold on and never let it go._

But the Vision went on, and she had no way to awaken from the past.

#### Vessia

Vessia danced now as she always had, and as always, it seemed a mere wink of time. Yet hours passed. The moon-cast shadows of the stones crossed over her while she whirled. Then the sun-cast shadows from sunrise crossed her the other way. When the shadows of the moon and sun, filtered by the position of the stones, both touched her, she stilled. Time blinked, awakened.

Vio stretched and rubbed his eyes. He shook himself. "By the Seven Faeries! It's dawn! We were watching you all night."

She looked at him.

"You aren't even sweating," he marveled. "What are you?"

"I _must_ have her," said Vumo. "At any price. I must have her!"

" _You_ must have her?" Vio asked coldly. "You forget yourself, little brother. We serve the Bone Whistler. But I agree with the basic idea." He bowed to Hertio, who was also rubbing his eyes. "We will take your bargain, War Chief of Yellow Bear. We will take the Corn Maiden."

"Then you must take me as well," said Danumoro, rising to his feet.

"Don't be a fool, Danu," said Hertio. "It was out of friendship for you that I did this."

"Then you never understood what it meant to be a friend," said Danumoro.

#### Brena

Brena bowed her head over the fallen body of her enemy. Though he hadn't driven a spear through her heart, he'd killed her all the same. She wasn't sure why she had saved him from Kavio's blow. To spare his life, or to keep him alive until she could drive the bear's black arrow through his heart? Would she do that, take the life of an enemy in cold blood, a human sacrifice? With Gwena and Gwenika dead...

The young man who had fought with such supremacy touched her on the shoulder. She supposed she should apologize to him for misjudging his honor, but she didn't have the strength. In any case, he seemed preoccupied with another matter, asking, "Would rain cleanse the hill?"

"I suppose," she said. She rolled her eyes to the cloudless, moonless sky. "Do you know how often it rains in Yellow Bear?"

"No less than it does in the desert canyons of my home, I imagine," he said, and she remembered he had originally been from the Rainbow Labyrinth. "But I am a Rain Dancer."

Her jaw dropped. When he requested a clear space to dance, she nodded dumbly and staggered back to tell the other Yellow Bear warriors and Tavaedies to drag the bodies out of his way.

"He claims to be a Rain Dancer," she told them, suddenly afraid to believe it. Many Tavaedies claimed such powers, but true Rain Dancers were more rare than rain itself.

Nonetheless, everyone worked to remove the bodies from the center of the Stone Hedge. Brena helped organize teams to help the wounded and carry away the dead. All the while, however, out of the corner of her eye, she watched the young man, and was aware when he began to dance.

As his fighting had been flawless, so was his dancing. Otherworldly grace whispered in his movements, sending chills down her spine. Something about him frightened as much as awed her. She was glad he was not her son, and wondered what his mother thought of having born such a fearfully powerful child.

Thunder clapped above, startling her. Hard torrents of rain out of nowhere pelted the hill. Gore and grime streamed away in the sudden flood. The water felt delicious against her bare back, washing away the ache of the lash marks along with the blood. Not just rain, she realized, a healing rain. Her amazement deepened. Those who danced the most powerful of Blue Chromas might dance rain, but who could dance healing and rain, Yellow and Blue, into the same spell?

Ten minutes of bucketing rain battered the hill, then ended as quickly as it had started.

"Who are you?" Brena asked him, but he didn't hear her. His attention snapped to watch someone walking across the clearing.

Hertio, the War Chief of Yellow Bear tribehold, threaded the rings of stones, with his elite band of Bear Warriors in tow. He must have arrived some time during the Rain dance. He pointed to the young Rain Dancer.

"Seize him!" Hertio commanded. "He is an exile from the Rainbow Labyrinth tribe."

"No!" cried Brena, daring to thrust herself forward. When Hertio turned to look her up and down, she blushed, but persisted. "He may be an outtriber, even an exile, but he fought on our side. He saved us!"

"Did he?" asked Hertio. "Or was he in league with the Blue Waters tribe all along? The Initiates are dead. Perhaps it was the plan all along to distract us with a fake battle while they suffocated."

"No!"

"No, they didn't suffocate? If they are still alive, then what are you waiting for? Perform the spell that will allow them to arise out of the earth. Finish the ceremony you came here to perform. My men and I will take care of the wounded, the dead and the prisoners of war--including this one," he jerked his finger at the Rain Dancer, "until we can determine if he is friend or foe."

#### Brena

The twenty-one Zavaedies and Tavaedies dressed in swift silence. The utter blackness of pre-dawn matched their spirits. Though the healing rain had soothed the physical wounds inflicted on them, nothing could heal the ache of what they had lost. They danced open the faery door to the underhill knowing they would find corpses.

_At least they died innocent,_ Brena told herself. _Better than to emerge into this world of torture and war and hate, where even good deeds were rewarded with betrayal._

The hole into the earth appeared at the center of the clearing. Normally, the magic of the exit would have allowed each Initiate to emerge from the ground one at a time, as the ceremony required.

Abiono descended into the hole. He leaped back out almost immediately, his whole face transformed.

"They live! They live!"

"But how is that possible?"

"The magic of the tor itself? It was built by fae..."

"Who cares? They live..."

Dizzy babble finally found focus in the agreement to carry on the ceremony as though the abomination had never interrupted it. The Tavaedies took their places around the circle, one before each of the stones, not bound this time, but bathed in halos of magic light.

#### Hadi

Hadi woke up with a biting headache. He'd had the strangest dream, of a beautiful woman dancing...

No light. No food. No water. No air. No wonder he felt like gunk under toenails. But a draft of air had revived him somewhat. He didn't see anyone around him...

... _because it's dark, you idiot,_ he reminded himself.

But he couldn't hear anyone around him either. Rejecting the possibility that he had gone deaf, and the even more unlikely scenario that the other Initiates around him had stopped whining, he crawled toward the fresh air.

He saw the faint outline of moonlight. He scrambled to his feet and raced outside.

Ugh, he was in the center of the creepy megalith circles they called the Stone Hedge.

"Follow the brightest light you see," instructed a voice.

The Tavaedies, all dressed up in their finery, stood in a circle around him, in line with the stones of the inner circle of megaliths.

Hadi didn't hesitate. The brightest light? Only one Tavaedi held a torch. The rest stood in the shadows. He walked toward the torchlight. How easy was that? Some Test.

The Tavaedi said, when he approached, "Present your totem."

"Uhm, here." Hadi fumbled with the corn doll he had on a string around his neck. He lay this at the feet of the Tavaedi.

"Congratulations, Hadi, son of the Lost Swan clan of the Rainbow Labyrinth tribe," said the Tavaedi, handing him an ornate obsidian pestle. "You are now a man."

#### Gwenika

Gwenika awakened to a golden light. The wisps of a beautiful dream, a dancing maiden more brilliant than the sun, tingled at the edges of her mind.

She was still in the cave, but she appeared to be alone except for a glowing ball of yellow light that hovered in front of her.

_Come with me._

Gwenika couldn't stand in the cave, so she crawled after the puff of light through the catacombs. At last, the unhewn rocks in the floor tilted up an incline. Gwenika crawled faster. Soon she realized the ceiling was tall enough that she could stand, so she did. The glow puff didn't wait. She hurried after it.

Pale as it was, the moonlight stabbed her eyes when she first emerged from the cave. She recognized where she stood--the center of the Stone Hedge.

Tavaedies dressed in elaborate costumes stood in between the large monoliths. Most of them stood in shadow, except for one, who held a torch.

He called aloud to her in a sepulchral voice, "Follow the brightest light you see."

The golden puff twinkled at Gwenika. It bobbed toward the shadows on the opposite side of the circle from the man with the torch. While Gwenika looked on, wide eyed, the golden ball of light grew into a blinding sun.

"It's so bright," Gwenika murmured, hiding her head with her arms.

_Dance with me._

The miniature sun turned into a Vision of glowing men and women dancing. Nothing felt more natural than to copy their movements and join them.

That's when she saw the yeech, flying toward her on the backs of leathery-winged bats. She wanted to duck and run, but she remembered what Dindi had told her, and indeed, when she forced herself to look up at the horrid things, she realized she was pulling them toward her on strings of light. _Let go! Let go!_ she begged. The dance was becoming hopelessly tangled.

"Let. Me. Go!" she shouted. She slashed at the strings, not really expecting it would help, but to her surprise they were as frail as cobwebs and floated away. The yeech on their bats veered away into the night sky.

All that remained was the grace and golden light of the dance of the Ladder to the Sun, the oldest and most powerful _tama_ of Yellow Bear.

At the end of the _tama_ , the golden sun faded to a tiny puff of light cupped in the hand of a Tavaedi in a Yellow costume.

"Do you see any other lights?" asked the Yellow Tavaedi. "Look around the circle carefully. The torch is not important--look for other spheres like the golden one that led you here."

Gwenika scanned the circle of Tavaedies and stones, but all she saw were men and women standing in the dark. She shook her head.

"You've done well," the Yellow Tavaedi reassured her. "Present your totem."

Gwenika unfastened her corn doll totem from the gold bead necklace about her neck, and deposited it with a bow to the Tavaedi.

The Tavaedi regarded her gravely. "You are invited to join the Yellow Dancers secret society, to learn its dances, its magics and its hidden Patterns. Do you accept the invitation and pledge to impart knowledge of the secrets to no one outside the society, upon pain of death?"

_A Tavaedi? Me?_ Gwenika's heart began to pound very fast. _My sister, yes, we all knew she would be invited. But me?_

"Yes," she said. "Yes, I pledge my word."

"Congratulations, Gwenika, daughter of the Sycamore Stands clan of the Yellow Bear tribe," he said, handing her a windwheel with painted yellow petals. "You are now a Tavaedi of the Golden Maize Society."

#### Dindi

Dindi woke up alone, bathed in light.

All around her on the cave walls, she saw luminous glyphs. The symbols looked the same as the abstract designs painted upon houses or woven in to clothing. Chevrons, half moons, zigzags, arrows, squiggles. Things that looked like claw marks, and things that looked like bird wings. All glowing in every primordial color of the rainbow.

She traced the sigils with her fingers. Where did the light come from? She couldn't tell. She followed the glowing glyphs up a slope, until she reached the exit from the subterranean vault.

Wind whipped her hair once she stepped into the cold night air. All around her, she saw huge stones inscribed with more glyphs. The symbols shone like brilliant flame against the basalt rock of the megaliths and the black night sky.

"The Tor of the Stone Hedge," she whispered, spinning in a circle. She remembered the Vision clearly. Where were the other Initiates? Had they also seen the Corn Maiden's breathtaking dance before her enemies upon this very tor?

Dimly, she could see the silhouettes of people, Tavaedies in costume, standing at the base of the megaliths with faint balls of light cupped in their hands, but it was impossible to see their faces because they were backlit by the overwhelming waterfalls of light streaming from every stone.

"Follow the brightest light you see," a woman commanded her.

_Is it a riddle?_ she wondered. _Among lights all equally bright, can any be brightest?_

She turned around again, in a slower circle this time, searching to see if any particular megalith glowed more strongly than the others.

"If you can follow the light, do it now," said the woman. "The brightest light you see."

"But all the stones are lit!"

"Don't spin fancies to impress us. The stones are not lit. Dance, if you can see the _tama_ to follow. Otherwise, walk to the torch."

_Which of you should I follow?_ Dindi asked the stones of light silently. _Which of you can sing me the Unfinished Song?_

As if in response to her thoughts, the three concentric circles of shining stones pulsed more brightly still. It was like trying to stare into the sun. The light stabbed her eyes. Music washed over her like a river that would drown her.

Luminous figures jumped out of the stones and swirled all around her, cavorting madly. It was the _tama_ of the Unfinished Song, and it was as breathtaking as when the Corn Maiden had performed it. But she saw now that it was not simple at all. The dancers flipped and leaped and twirled in the air. They flew through the moves, they swayed, they swam, they fought, they flung themselves around the circle in steps so convoluted she couldn't even catch the movement clearly, never mind copy it. The faster they twirled and whirled, the more cacophonous the song and the brighter the lights until she couldn't see anything any more. The radiance from all sides battered her like a rain of fire. She screamed and hid her head.

"Go away, go away, I can't take it!"

Darkness felt like a cool cloak when it settled back around her. She collapsed onto the grass. It felt cold and wet and prickly.

"Fool girl," a woman who sounded suspiciously like Gwenika's mother, Zavaedi Brena, called to her impatiently, "Stop spinning in circles like an idiot, and just go to the woman holding the torch!"

Still woozy, Dindi struggled to her feet. She staggered to the woman holding a torch.

"Present your totem," said the woman. It was Zavaedi Brena.

Dindi braced herself for another Vision. To her surprise, nothing happened when she released the corncob doll from its ribbon to present to the Zavaedi Brena, except that Brena handed Dindi an obsidian mortar.

"Congratulations, Dindi, daughter of the Lost Swan clan of the Rainbow Labyrinth tribe. You are now a woman."

Dindi stared at the grinding bowl blankly. A bowl in which to mush corn and crush spices. The companion piece to the pestle some young man--Yodigo, perhaps--had been given this night. How practical for a new wife and mother. But utterly useless for a Tavaedi. Where was her windwheel? What had happened to the invitation she'd dreamed of hearing for so many years?

_I failed._

Her stomach collapsed on itself in a fierce cramp, her jaw worked up and down of its own accord. Her head felt like someone was hitting her with rocks.

_I failed. I failed._ It was all she could think. _I haven't enough magic. I can never be a Tavaedi. I can never dance again._

Continue reading Dindi's story in the sequel _:_ The Unfinished Song: Taboo.

Author's Note

Every story starts from a seed, the tiniest grain of an idea. The seed that began this story planted itself in my mind ten years ago. It was simple: I wanted to tell a fairy-tale. With the fairies left in, as they so often aren't in the retellings.

This is just the beginning of the story, of course. I hope you wouldn't think I'd end a fairy-tale in failure. Even the Littlest Mermaid, in the original Hans Christian Anderson story, though she perished because her lover was untrue, gained a soul. Besides, the older, true "folk" fairytales almost always have happy endings. A gruesome sort of happy, in some Grimm versions, but happy.

This story has a happy ending too, and it's already written, in case you were worried I was one of those authors who might depart to another plane of existence before finishing my story. I am the morbid sort who worries about that a lot, so I wrote the ending first.

That wasn't hard to do, because the whole thing is based on a myth. I shan't tell you which myth, because then you would know the end, but chances are, you haven't heard of it anyway. It's Polynesian, and I've only found one reference to it.

Some stories are omnivorous. They overlap and interweave, they transform and transmute like the lycanthropes and pumpkins they describe. Therefore, although _The Unfinished Song_ began as a simple retelling of an obscure Polynesian legend, it quickly gobbled up other fairytales, legends and myths, churning and turning them into something a little bit old, a little bit new.

The first fairytale I learned as a child was Cinderella. Not surprisingly, there is a bit of Cinderella in this story. (We'll get to that bit in a later novel in the series. There's a pretty dress involved, but no glass slippers, since they haven't invented glass yet.) A bit of Beauty and the Beast. (Oh, just wait til we meet the man in black! What? Of course there has to be a man in black. Come now, really.)

But many of the fairytales that found their way in were stranger ones. If you've read the novella _Tomorrow We Dance,_ or the Author's Note about it in the anthology _Conmergence_ , you may know that it draws on The Pied Piper and The Emperor's New Clothes.

The very idea of the Tavaedies, and their secret societies, and their power dances, comes from Native American and African sources. The fae of Faerarth are not Celtic, despite the familiar name.

Originally, I wrote the first three chapters of Dindi's story set in a quasi-medieval landscape of castles and peasants, knights and princesses. Familiar ground for fantasy readers, and a reasonable setting for fairytales.

Yet wrong.

Something about it didn't satisfy me. Maybe it was just that the medieval period is overdone in the genre, and I wanted to stretch further than that. In addition, though, I wanted to set the story in a primordial time when all the fairytales of the world were first being written, an age when the population of the world was limited to the first seven tribes. I called it Faearth because it is a time when fae still openly roam the earth. There are seven tribes of peoples in Faearth, seven and no more.

So the technology and social structure of Faearth is neolithic. Neolithic means "new stone age," which means they have all the major inventions to make them more civilized than cave dwellers: weaving, sewing, clay thatched houses, beaten gold. But they have no bronze, and definitely no iron. They have bows but not swords. I did decide to allow them horses, but horse-riding is new to them, and in many clans, they still think it more fit to eat than ride a horse.

The astute reader will also notice that I have mixed European fauna with North American flora. They grow corn, but they have wild horses, and so on. Other customs are shamelessly stolen from real cultures too. There was a culture in India that used to raise slaves as their own children, until some need arose for a human sacrifice. Then the _mariah_ (their term, which I borrowed) would be ritually killed. This struck me as a particularly heartwrenching form of human sacrifice. It's one thing to kill your prisoners of war. This is more like killing your foster children.

Another suspect combination is the sequoia forests of Yellow Bear, roughly based on my own native California, and the hakurl, beloved rotten shark dish of Blue Waters. Hakurl is a real dish, but not served anywhere near California. You can buy it in Reykjavik, Iceland (officially as far from California as you can get without leaving the planet). In case you thought such a food could exist only in fiction, or that I exaggerated its charms, Michael M. described hakurl in an article on, "The Worst Meals on This Earth": "So what does hakarl taste like then? It tastes like crying. It tastes like broken promises. It tastes like the Lord God Almighty ripping the Bible out of your hands and saying, "Sorry, this doesn't apply for you. I think you want 'Who Moved My Cheese?'" It tastes like the Predator wading into a Care Bears movie and opening fire." Exactly what you would expect Vikings to eat, in other words.

This eclectic mix is not due to botanical or anthropological ignorance on my part. It was a deliberate decision, to show a primeval earth yet undivided into continents. Not that I want to insist Faerarth is our earth separated only by time. If it is our earth at all--I am agnostic on this point--it is separated from us by a great deal more than time, and by a great deal less. I cannot explain more clearly, as faeries are involved, and their sense of time and space is notoriously suspect.

Continue reading Dindi's story in the sequel _:_ The Unfinished Song: Taboo _._

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##### **Also by Tara Maya:**

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Copyright © 2010, 2011 by Tara Maya

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All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of

1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or

transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval

system, without the prior written permission of the publisher

Misque

Misque Press

First North American Edition: December 2010.

Second Edition: February 2011.

Third Edition: January 2013.

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real

persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

# WAR OF THE FAE

Book One

The Changelings

Elle Casey

**DEDICATION**

This book is dedicated to my daughter Skye ...

my kickass little fae-blooded girl who never ceases to amaze me with how awesome she is.

COPYRIGHT NOTICE

© 2012 Elle Casey, all rights reserved, worldwide. No part of this ebook may be reproduced, copied, emailed or uploaded to or downloaded from a file sharing site without author permission. Please support artistic expression and help promote copyright protections and anti-piracy efforts by only downloading from authorized retailers and by NOT uploading or sharing this book via any site, email, or other transfer device or software, with the exception of Amazon. The author thanks you deeply for your understanding and support of her efforts and creativity.

Chapter One

I can't take much more of this high school nonsense. I feel like I'm not supposed to be here. Where would I be if I weren't here? ... I don't know. All I do know is I'm in the middle of all this crap, going to class, taking tests - but I'm on autopilot, going through the motions, waiting for life to start happening.

I'm sitting in World History, and there's a girl one row over who's the polar opposite of me. She's staring attentively at the teacher, her pen poised above an already nearly full page of notes, eager to write down every nugget of educational wisdom he's throwing our way. She loves it here, and she has big plans for moving on to college next year. She has cheer practice after school and a boyfriend named Mike who plays wide receiver on the football team. Ugh.

I own a pen. I probably have some paper somewhere in my backpack too. Today, however, I'm using my pen to draw symbols all over my right hand - temporary tattoos. I write and eat with my left hand but do just about everything else with my right. My own body is confused with what it's supposed to do.

I'm in the minority in this school. It seems like just about everyone else knows exactly what they're doing now and what they're going to be doing until the day they die. Me? I don't have a clue. All I know is, this isn't it. Today the bathroom scale said I'd lost another two pounds. I was literally wasting away with boredom. Maybe I was going to just disappear altogether. I wondered if anyone would miss me.

"Jayne? May I ask what you're doing?"

Uh-oh. I'd been spotted by the droner. I tucked my hand under my desk, hiding my artwork.

"Um, nothin' ... just taking some notes." My face was the picture of innocence. Or so I thought.

He walked over and stopped at my desk, looking down at its empty surface. "Where are these so-called notes?"

I reached up with my non-tattooed hand to tap my temple, looking up at him. "Right here, Mr. Parks; it's all riiiight here." I gave him a saucy wink just because I knew how much he'd hate it. Sometimes I do that kind of stuff - my mom calls it cutting off my nose to spite my face. I'm not sure why I do it; maybe to make life more interesting, give myself more of a challenge ... or maybe I'm just a glutton for punishment.

I looked over at the girl sitting next to me, noticing her scowl out of the corner of my eye. I stuck my tongue out at her because I'm not all that mature and I still enjoy doing the things that cracked me up when I was ten.

She doesn't get me at all. I'd heard girls like her call me a waste before. I couldn't say that I disagree with that comment - I am definitely wasted on this school.

"Cute ... I wonder if the assistant principal would agree." Mr. Parks went back to his desk, bending down to write out a referral slip. "Take this up to the office and see what he thinks about your mental note-taking program."

I slid out of my chair, standing to walk to the front of the classroom with a loose grip on my nearly empty backpack. Bringing books to class was something I didn't normally bother with. My locker is better equipped than my shoulder to manage twenty pounds of blah, blah, and blah.

"Thanks ever so much," I said sweetly, taking the slip from him and turning my head to look at my classmates. There would be no leaving with eyes cast down and a heart full of shame for this girl.

I caught the eye of my best friend, the biggest dork on the entire planet, Tony Green. I blew him a kiss with the referral slip held between my middle finger and thumb so he and the rest of the class could enjoy my one-finger salute. His face turned bright pink and he sunk low in his chair, shaking his head and refusing to meet my eyes. He was probably worried I was going to get him a one-way ticket to the principal's office too. They don't know him there like they know me.

Tony has been my friend, not necessarily willingly, since he ended up having the extraordinarily good luck to sit in front of me in Analytic Geometry, two years ago. He was so pitiful - still is really. Skinny as a sack of bones with crazy, unkempt and un-styled brown hair, wearing clothes I know for a fact his mother bought for him in the little boys' section at Wal-Mart, and shoes with weird, thick rubber soles. The bright pink pimples he always had on his pale white skin did nothing to help this package. It's not like I'm miss beauty queen or anything, but I know bad fashion choices when I see them. The first day I saw him, I couldn't help latching myself right on. He was like a scraggly little puppy who'd had its ass kicked.

I preferred the casual look for myself - usually jeans, purple Converse sneaks, and cute t-shirts ... hoodies in the winter. It never gets too cold in south Florida where we live, so my fashion choices are somewhat limited. I keep my brown hair long because it's so thick; the few times I got it cut short, I ended up having a big, puffy hair triangle on my head. Not cool. But sporting a thick, long, wavy mane in Florida is crazy hot, so my hair is usually up in a rubber band, out of the way. I've been told that I'm pretty or, more often, cute. I don't wear a lot of makeup, mostly eyeliner and mascara, occasionally lip gloss. Adults always comment on my big green eyes and heart-shaped lips, whatever that means. I'm shorter than about half the girls I know, so I guess that makes me average height.

Every day I went into Geometry that semester, I'd ask Tony when we were going to start hanging out together. I don't know why I did it; he just seemed so shy and cute, scared to death of everything around him. I wanted to toughen him up or something, maybe break him out of his lonely shell.

As the school's winter dance got closer, I took to leaning forward and whispering all kinds of stuff in his ear. First it was things like, 'When are you going to ask me to the dance?' And then it kind of devolved into, 'Hey, Tony, whaddya say you and I go hang out after school and smoke some dope or something?' I don't do drugs, but I liked shocking the crap out of Tony - who I was calling Tony Baloney by this time. Or Tones. Or Tone-Tone.

Tony had other friends, but they were all computer geeks, and none of them were girls. I know a bit about computers, but I mostly use them to research places I'd rather be than school. I have no idea how to program anything other than the alarm on my cell phone. I had other friends - girls - but they were always busy doing homework and making their parents proud. We didn't have a lot in common, and their parents tended to discourage friendships with me. I'm apparently what some might consider a 'bad influence'. As far as I was concerned, they were the fun police.

Tony's ability to blush on command was unrivaled. All I had to do was say 'boobs' or 'dick' and instantly his face would be scarlet. I made the mistake of telling my mom about my antics with him one day, and she went off, telling me I was bullying the poor boy. She made it a point to remind me that I sometimes don't realize how persistent I can be. I think when she said 'persistent' she really meant 'annoying' or 'pain-in-the-ass-ish'. My mom's asshat boyfriend was more than happy to chime in on that conversation. He practically lives with us now, which is why I avoid going home as much as possible.

After my mom said that about Tony, I felt a little bit bad. I looked back on everything I'd said to him and thought that maybe people could see it as bullying if they didn't realize that I was actually quite fond of the guy.

Over the weeks and months of my 'persistence', Tony kinda warmed up a bit. We talked about things. He learned to brush off my inappropriate comments, even laughing at them on occasion when they were particularly crass. We walked between classes together sometimes. We hadn't started hanging out after school, but I had a feeling it was going to happen some day soon.

After the talk with my mom, I decided I needed to clear the air with old Tony Baloney. I didn't want to think about him going home and crying because some mean girl at school was making his life a living hell. Lord knows my father, long gone from the household but still haunting me via court-ordered visitation, had given me that credit enough times over the years.

Before History class the next day, as we were waiting for our teacher Mr. Banks to arrive, I asked Tony if I was bothering him. The conversation went something like this:

"Hey, Tony. Am I bothering you?"

"Yes."

"No, I mean really, Tone-Tone. Am I really bothering you?"

"Yes, you really are."

"Okay, thanks, I feel better now. I thought I was really bothering you."

Sigh. "You ARE bothering me, are you deaf?"

"No, but I know what you really mean when you say 'yes'."

"Ah, so this is one of those 'no means yes' things we learned about in health class?"

"Uh ... kind of. Yeah, I'm pretty sure."

"Okay, whatever. Just stop bothering me."

Even though this verbal sparring was fun, it was getting me nowhere. I decided to get down to business. I had to let him know I wasn't a bully - just a socially inept girl trying to make friends with a nerdy dude in rubber-soled shoes.

"Hey, Tony, when you saying 'bothering' do you mean 'bothering' or 'bullying'?" I could see he was going to turn around so I put on the most innocent face I knew how to make. I tied it up with as sheepish a grin as I could manage too, just in case my innocent look wasn't as awesomely powerful as I thought it was.

He didn't say anything at first; he just looked at me. For the first time in our relationship, I felt uncomfortable, which for me is saying a lot. I squirmed in my seat a little bit and felt my smile faltering. I realized as he stared at me that I really, really didn't want to be bullying him. Tony was a cool dude, and it was possible I was the only one in the whole world who knew it. And it was also possible that he was the only person in the world who knew I did give a shit about some things. He was a perceptive guy.

"You're not bullying me, and you're not really bothering me, either ... Jayne."

It was the first time I'd heard him say my name. I guess I was a little surprised that he even knew it, though I shouldn't have been. We'd been in this class for almost the whole semester. It was the look on his face, though, that blew me away. He looked so friggin serious, staring me right in the eyes. I felt like he was seeing into my head. My smile came back, but it was totally real this time.

I grabbed my pen and twirled it in my hand. "Well that sucks, 'cause I was kind of enjoying bothering you." Being a total smartass when in tight situations is one of my best skills.

"I could tell. So now that you know you're not bothering me, you can stop."

"Stop what?"

"Stop bothering me," he said as he turned back around in his seat.

"Okay, that makes perfect sense. So when are we going to hang out?" I expected him to do his usual - turn bright red and refuse to answer me. But he surprised me this time.

"How about today?" He still had the red face and neck, flaming with embarrassment, but only a little bit of the shoulder hunching that always gave him the appearance of a turtle going into its shell.

"Don't you have chess club or computer club or calculus club or build-a-robot club or some other rule-the-world-someday club to go to?"

While I waited for his answer, the teacher arrived in class to start the show.

Tony turned sideways, pretending he was getting a book out of his backpack. "Chess club, but I'll skip it." He pushed his oversized glasses back up on his nose as he sat up, turning to face the front of the class again.

Did I mention Tony has the butt-ugliest, brown tortoise-shell glasses you've ever seen? They are not cool or fashionable, even in a statement-making sort of way. I swear he must have gotten them from the dumpster outside of Goodwill.

"Wow, living on the edge ... sure you can handle it, Tones?"

He sat up straighter than I was used to seeing him sit. "I can if you can," he whispered.

"Fine. I'll meet you at the front of the school after seventh period. Oh, and by the way, I saw that."

"Saw what?"

"You smiled ... I think you like me." I was staring at his back, but I swear I saw his scalp move.

"No I didn't, and no I don't."

"You don't?"

Sigh. "Jayne, shut up before you get me in trouble."

I smiled and stage-whispered, "Boooooring." But I left him alone for the rest of the period, sure he was anxious to bust out his notebook and take some awesome notes. I had tattoos to draw anyway.

And so, The Year I Adopted Tony Baloney As My New Best Friend commenced. Every day since, we have hung out after school and I've harassed him in every class I could. The following semesters we even tried to arrange our schedules so we'd have a lot of classes together. Apparently he'd grown quite fond of my harassment and persistent nature, not that I'd given him much choice. I'd found him, and he was mine - cute little bugger that he was, messed up glasses, funky shoes and all.

***

As I arrived at the assistant principal's office and took my seat in the waiting area, I thought about all the time Tony and I had spent together these past two years. We hung out after school and got to know each other's screwed up families pretty well - my mother who couldn't think for herself and her asshat boyfriend, and Tony's parents who were almost never around.

Most of our time was spent walking around town and hanging out at the library where Tony tried to study while I found new ways to make him crazy by not studying and making noise. Every once in a while we went to the movies, but usually we couldn't afford it. Tony wouldn't even consider sneaking in or trying to see more than a single movie on one ticket. He was a spoilsport that way, but he kept me out of trouble so I didn't complain.

Some people say it's impossible for a guy and a girl to be best friends, but I completely disagree. Tony and I are friends and that's it. I didn't like him in a romantic way - I preferred the bad boy type, and Tony was as far from being a bad boy as I was from being a good girl. I mean, what girl doesn't go for the bad boy really? Actually, most of the guys I knew around school were idiots with their heads so far up their butts I couldn't stand to be around them for very long. They had a lot to learn about how to treat a girl, and I didn't have the patience to train any of them. Case in point, Brad Powers, who was also sitting in the principal's waiting area; only he was probably there to kiss the principal's ass, not to be chastised by him. I barely spared him a glance. He had a rep for being a total douche to girls - using them and then throwing them to the curb. He was a kiss-and-tell kind of guy, if you know what I mean.

That's another good thing I can say about Tony - the guy is an absolute prince. He always holds doors for girls, pulls out chairs, offers them drinks and stuff. I don't think I've ever heard him burp. All this time hanging out with me has somehow not trained the manners out of him. I'm not sure how that's managed to happen, really. You'd think my powers of persuasion would be stronger than that.

Tony has his crushes, but he would rather walk over hot coals than actually ask a girl out. He prefers to crush from afar. I offered to help hook him up a few times, but the thought of me being involved in his love life nearly sent him into apoplectic spasms that were frightening to watch.

I did try once to get a girl I knew he liked to warm up to him. It was a disaster from the word go. As soon as I mentioned his name she got a disgusted expression on her face. "Tony? Tony Green?!  Are you kidding me?" She just stood there looking like she'd smelled something bad.

"Um, yeah, okay, never mind." I realized it wasn't going well, so I bolted. I saw Tony later and confessed, although I left out the hairy details.

"You did WHAT?!" His face turned an interesting shade of reddish-purple and got all blotchy; even the whites of his eyes went a little red.

"Dude, chill. I didn't tell her you like her or wanted to get into her panties or anything."

"Wha ... ? Panti ... ? Wha ... ? ARRRRrrrgggg!" The strangled noises coming out of his throat didn't sound good. He bent over slightly, grabbing the door of his open locker, probably to keep himself from falling on the floor.

"Dude, holy shit, what is your problem? Breathe already, she's just a girl for chrissakes."

I started beating him on the back, hoping to get him breathing right again. His reaction struck me as over-the-top, especially for Tony. It crossed my mind that I could possibly be witnessing some psychological scarring happening right before my eyes. I did feel a measure of guilt over the fact that it was me who had caused it, but I assuaged this guilt by telling myself I was only trying to help the poor guy.

He was breathing deeply, trying to get a grip on himself. He elbowed my whacking hand off his back and stood, running his fingers through his hair until it stood on end. This was nothing new for Tony, as his hair was usually in a state of disarray.

"Do I even want to know what she said?" he asked, the look of hope in his eyes too pitiful to bear.

I sighed. "Not really, dude. She is too stuck up to even see you. I'm actually thinking about going back there and punching her in the face."

He looked stricken, his face now going white. "That bad, huh?"

I was afraid he was going to do that crazy breathing thing again. I put a serious look on my face. "No, actually. She just said your name; like, repeated it. She didn't say anything else. I just took off - I started thinking about the spasms you'd have if you found out I'd done it, and I got scared."

Tony knew my serious look was a load of crap. "You? Scared? That'll be the day." He closed his locker quietly, because Tony never slams his locker shut. "Let's go, we're gonna be late for class." He sounded really, really tired. Or bummed.

I felt like crap. Now I really wanted to punch that chick in the head, and I'm generally not a violent person. I talk tough, but I'm all talk and no action usually. I had to do something, though, to get him out of this mood.

"Oh boy, biology, hold me back. Tony, I'm so excited, I feel like skipping to class!" I grabbed his elbow and started skipping, dragging him along a few feet before he was able to wrestle himself away from me.

"Suit yourself!" I yelled, as I skipped my way through the crowds, annoying a few people on my way, no doubt.

"Skipping in a crowded hallway is antisocial, Jayne!" he yelled out after me.

"Perfect!" I yelled back.

Poor kid - thought he was gonna shame the maniac out of me. He should have known that was never going to work.

Just then the assistant principal opened his door, interrupting my reverie. He smiled at Brad who returned the smile and gave him a knowing look. Then he turned his head and saw me, scowling in recognition.

Perfect. I tried to duplicate the look Brad had given him, just for fun, but I'm sure my humor was totally wasted on this guy.

"Jayne Sparks, what a surprise. Come into my office and sit."

Just another day of lame-ass high school. All I could think about as he blathered on and on about responsibility and respect was: When am I finally going to get the hell out of this place?

***

I met Tony in front of the school after seventh period so we could walk home together. He lives two streets over from me, less than two minutes on foot.

"How'd your meeting with VP Matthews go today?" he asked.

"Why fine, thank you so much for asking," I answered brightly as I kept walking. Fast.

Tony struggled to keep up with me, carrying his normal hundred pounds of books and wearing his ugly-ass Frankenstein shoes. "Stop screwing around, Jayne; did you get suspended or not?"

"Nope. Just lectured until I wanted to stab myself in the eye with my pen. I actually prefer a suspension - otherwise known as a mini-vacation."

"Well, you're lucky. Anyway, I have news ... big news."

I immediately stopped, since Tony never said he had big news ... it must be really big, I thought. My unexpected stop caused him to bump into me.

Next thing I knew, his stupid backpack had swung off his shoulder and hit me in the arm, knocking me off the sidewalk to land in the grass on my butt under a big tree. Leaves cascaded down from its branches, landing all around and on me. I hadn't even touched the tree at all. Sad to think it was the percussion of my ass hitting the ground that had caused the tree to shed its clothing like that.

"Aaarghh!" I yelled out as I went down, "Tony what the hell is your problem?!"

"Oh crap, sorry!" He stopped struggling with his bag and rushed over to help me up. "Are you hurt?"

We both froze when we heard the next sound.

"Yo! Look at the two lovebirds under the tree. Whaddya doin' over there, dorks? Having a picnic?"

Brad Powers strikes again. He not only spends his time wooing the hearts of assistant principals and teachers everywhere, he also likes long walks on the beach, reading poetry, and making students who don't look like Barbie dolls feel like complete a-holes.

I stood up, brushing myself off. "Yes, Mr. Flowers! We are having a picnic! Why don't you come over here and join us? I have something special for you to EAT!"

Tony was sweating, the droplets of water beading up on his forehead as he pleaded with me. "Jayne, don't do it. Just shut up; he's going to pound us."

"Pound us? I highly doubt that. I'm pretty sure I can take him."

"What'd you say, bitch?" Brad was crossing the street, obviously planning to come join our picnic.

Tony went into full breakdown mode. "Jaaayyne, he's coming over heeere!"

"Shut up, Baloney, I can see that. Let me handle this."

Tony stood up straight, suddenly resolute, and no longer messing with his bag. "No way, Jayne, you'll get your butt kicked. Step aside."

I was in shock for a split second. My little boy was growing up before my eyes, but there was no time to ponder and sigh. First I had to save my life and the life of my best friend.

Before shit-for-brains could get too close, I stepped out to meet him partway. That was at the curb, where luckily I gained about five inches of height, making me only a few inches shorter than him instead of, like, eight.

He launched the first volley. "You got somethin' to say, Freak?" He stopped about two inches from me and engaged me in the high school fighter's stare down. I kick ass at that, so I gave him my best stuff. I can look crazy cool with my stare down. At least I think so, but Tony says it just stops at 'crazy' and leaves out the 'cool'.

"Yeah, I got somethin' to say, Flower Boy. Go fuck yourself ... how 'bout that?"

The next thing I knew, I was back on the ground under the tree with what felt like the aftershocks of a run-in with a bull, echoing across my chest. Did he just touch my boobs? Crap, my butt is gonna be sore later. More leaves sprinkled down around me. It was starting to look like Fall in that one small space next to the sidewalk, except the leaves were green.

Before I could think anything else even more ridiculous, I heard Brad say, "Whoa, hey little dude, just chill."

This is me now: head tilted to the side, confused look of the family dog on my face ... Do I hear fear in the voice of my worstest enemy, aimed at my bestest friend?

Yes, I did. I looked over to see my beloved Tone-Tone, pointing what was definitely a real, live nine-millimeter handgun, at Brad Powers. And he did all this standing on the sidewalk. In public. Not twenty yards from the front of the school.

Chapter Two

"Tony, what the hell?!" I screamed, sounding like a freaked out girly-girl.

"Don't worry about it, Jayne; I got this one." His face was set with grim determination as he stared at Brad, the gun pointed right at his chest.

I'd never seen Tony look like that. Sweet little Tone-Tone. Shy little Tony Baloney. Frankenstein-messed-up-shoes wearing Tony Green - who right now looked very much like a small and skinny but still very badass Rambo.

"Um, Tony, I don't really know what the hell is going on right now, but you need to put that thing away ... like now!"

Brad's self-preservation instincts must have just engaged then because he chimed in with, "Yeah, Tony, you should put that away. You don't want to shoot me; you'll get kicked out of school."

Brad was nobody's dummy, apparently. I knew this line of reasoning would get to Tony for sure, or at least I thought it would.

"Screw school, and screw you too, Brad." The last word was said with such venom, even I was a little scared at this point. Who was this kid, and what had he done with my best friend?

"Brad?" I asked carefully, "What did you do to Tony?"

"Nothin'! I didn't do anything to this little nut job ... he's freakin' out! It's got nothin' to do with me!" He was trying to back up without taking his eyes off the gun.

Tony responded very coolly. "He pushed you down, Jayne; he insulted you. He treats you like you're a piece of garbage all the time. That's not nothing."

To say that I was stunned would be an understatement; but the analysis of this interesting turn of events would have to wait for a time when I wasn't actually fearing that Brad Shit-For-Brains was going to die at the hands of my best, but misguided, friend.

"Tony, dude, it's nothing; he's not worth it. It doesn't bother me, I'm totally fine. Put the gun away and let's get the hell outta here."

I could see him relaxing a little bit, thinking. His grip on the gun loosened ever so slightly. Brad and I waited for Tony's next move.

"You heard her, Powers ... get the hell out." He gestured with the gun, encouraging Brad to move.

Brad didn't need to be told twice. He turned and sprinted away like I'm sure he does on the football field every week, not that I bother going to school games or anything.

Tony lowered the gun, bending over to pick up the backpack he had abandoned on the ground. He casually put the gun inside, zipping the bag up in one, quick motion.

I, on the other hand, was standing there frozen in place, still in shock over what I'd just witnessed.

"Come on, Jayne, let's go." He threw his bag over his shoulder and reached out to grab my elbow. I let him take it because my autopilot seemed to be jammed or something. It was easier at this point to let him call the shots. We walked together towards his house as my mind raced.

What the hell had just happened back there? I snuck a peek at him sideways. He still had that weird, determined look on his face, but otherwise he was old Tony Baloney in his dorky clothes again. I wasn't sure exactly what to say, and I was pretty sure I should be delicate about it, but as you probably have guessed by now, subtlety is not really my style.

"TONY!!!!" I screamed. I stopped walking, turning to face him. "WHATTHEFUCKWASTHAT??!!" I was definitely freaking out.

"Jayne, don't make a big deal out of it ... come on." He tried to urge me forward, but I wasn't having any of that crap.

"I am not leaving this spot until you tell me what the hell that was all about! I'm serious!" I crossed my arms for emphasis, as if this would scare my best bud who had now revealed himself to be some sort of commando ninja guy.

"We'll talk about it at my house, I promise. Can we just go? I don't want anyone finding me out here with this thing."

"Okay, yeah, that thing ... that thing that happens to be a gun. I could see why you wouldn't want to be caught with that."  We started walking again, me filling up the empty space around us with my hysteria.

"Because that would mean you'd go to jail and leave me at this shitty school by myself with all these losers who have nothing better to do than crap on me and my friends, not to mention my mother's asshat boyfriend who ... "

Oops. I'd almost spilled the beans there. I tried for a quick recovery.

"Anyway, you need to get rid of that thing. I'll back you up if Shithead tries to turn you in or anything." I focused really hard on looking straight ahead because I knew if I looked Tony in the eyes, I'd cave.

"What are you talking about ... your mother's boyfriend? What's he got to do with anything?" he asked pretty casually, all things considered.

"Nothing ... he's got nothing to do with anything. At all. Forget I said anything." The nervousness set in, making me feel sick to my stomach.

Tony stopped walking and grabbed my arm. "Wait, Jayne, stop for a minute. We should talk about this." He was speaking softer now and sounded so ... patient. And because he was being so sweet, it made me feel even worse, not better.

I stopped walking but kept my eyes straight ahead. He used his puny muscles to push my arm back, effectively turning me around so he could see my face. I refused to meet his eyes, and he knows me well enough to know that's a dead giveaway.

"Look at me, Jayne. Come on. Talk to me about what's going on."

I couldn't look at him. I didn't want to cry, and I knew if I saw his face I wouldn't be able to hold it back. I had this secret shame thing going on that I didn't even like thinking about myself, let alone talking about with Tony.

I took a deep, calming breath. Actually, it was more a wavering breath and not so calming, but I was giving it a try anyway. "I don't wanna talk about it now ... actually not ever, really. Let's get outta here."

I turned, walking away quickly, and Tony let me go. I felt him come up beside me a few seconds later, and we continued on together in silence the rest of the way to his house. I used that time to get a grip on myself.

Mission partially accomplished, autopilot engaged.

***

Tony's place was empty as usual. His parents are workaholics; I almost never saw them. Tony's an only child who has tons of freedom and opportunity to get into trouble. Up until today, he's never taken advantage of that. I guess he was saving it all up for one, big event. With a gun.

"Wait here," said Tony, dropping his backpack on the ground inside the door. He ran upstairs to his room where I could hear him stomping around, slamming doors and scraping what sounded like furniture across the floor.

A couple minutes later he was downstairs with a bigger backpack in his arms. He dropped it next to the other one.

"Let's get something to eat."

"What's that big bag for?" I asked. "Does this have anything to do with the news you said you had, before we were accosted by Mr. Turdsville?"

He ignored me and went to the kitchen. I stared at the bag, hoping some sort of x-ray vision skills would kick in for me, but no such luck. The mystery bag stayed put, and I followed Tony to the kitchen.

When I got there, he was busy pulling things out of cabinets, laying them out on the counter.

"Um, I'm really not that hungry, Tony." I was still feeling queasy, even though the moment of madness had passed.

"That's okay, you'll be hungry later."

"Yeeaaah ... and then I'll have dinner, so I won't need all these ... " I picked up the nearest box he had set down, " ... granola power health bars."

"You're not going home for dinner," was his response.

Now I was confused and seriously concerned for my friend's mental health. Even more than I already had been.

"What do you mean, I'm not going home for dinner?"

"I mean, you're not going home for dinner. We're getting the heck outta here. We'll eat on the road."

"On the road where? What are you talking about?" I was trying to remember if we had planned on going to the library or something, but nothing was ringing a bell.

"We're leaving here, Jayne, tonight ... now ... so help me pack this stuff." He threw an empty grocery bag in my direction.

Yep. It was now confirmed. He'd definitely lost it.

"Tony, calm down. I know you're a little bit - or maybe a lot - freaked out about what happened back there with Powers, but it doesn't mean you have to leave town or anything. Don't worry, we'll figure something out. He probably won't even say anything to anyone. He won't want anyone to know you got the drop on him."

I was standing there with the empty grocery bag in my hand, hoping my words of reason were making an impact. Tony stopped waiting for me to cooperate and grabbed the bag out of my hand, filling it himself.

"Come on." He took me by the arm, and the three of us - him, me, and his bag of granola bars and juice boxes - walked quickly out of the kitchen and back to the front door by his bags. He shoved the groceries into his big bag and then unzipped his book bag. He took out the gun and threw it into the bigger bag too. He was obviously in total meltdown mode, probably worried about how he was going to be kicked out of the computer club or something.

As freaked out as I was about his behavior, I knew I couldn't leave him here like this. My best bet was to humor him until I could figure out how to calm him down. It never crossed my mind that I would be in danger from my loony friend, because that's what he was - my friend. My best friend, in fact. Today's knight-in-shining-armor-with-a-gun episode proved that.

"Okay, fine. I'm all ears. What's the plan? Where are we going?"

"Don't patronize me, Jayne, I'm serious. We're leaving here."

Hmmm. It appeared my plan wasn't working. Time to get all grown-up on his ass. I gently took his hand, lacing his fingers in mine so he'd quit stuffing things in his commando bag and look at me. He stopped with the packing, staring at our interlocked hands.

"Tony, come on. Look at me."

His eyes remained lowered. "Jayne, I know what happened with your mother's boyfriend; I know what he's done to you. We either have to leave, or I'm going to kill him. It's that simple."

The blood drained out of my face. I dropped his hand, feeling dizzy. How did he find out? This wasn't about Brad Powers. This was about my deepest, darkest, ugliest, filthiest secret. The shame. I couldn't deal with it, not now. Not knowing that Tony knew.

I stood up quickly, meaning to leave. Tony must have known my intentions because he jumped up too and ran to the door before I could get there. He stood with his legs and arms spread out wide, his back to the door, facing me.

"I'm not letting you leave without me, Jayne. We stay together; we're a team. We can do this."

I was crying now. I couldn't help it; it was too much. My awful secret was out there, floating in the air between us - unspoken but just as big and real as if I'd vomited it out all over the floor. "We can do what, Tony? Shoot someone? Show some douchebag who's boss? Because I don't think so! I don't think that's going to work!"

He took a step towards me with the most earnest look on his face ... I could hardly stand it. "We're not going to shoot anyone, Jayne. We don't have to if we leave. But if we stay, I can't promise that won't happen; and I'd like to go to college someday, and not online while I'm wearing an orange jumpsuit, if that's okay with you."

I half choked and half laughed at the visions his words created, and couldn't help but stop crying at the idea of him in an orange jumpsuit tapping away on a huge computer from the eighties with a glowing green screen. "You'd end up being some guy's bitch for sure."

"Yeah, I know. So let's go, get your stuff." He stepped away from the door to get his big bag, leaving the book bag where it was.

For some reason, this was when it really hit me how serious he was. He wasn't taking his school stuff.

I reached down to grab my bag. "Tony?"

"Yeah, Jayne?"

"What the hell?" I searched his eyes for some explanation of what was happening.

"Don't worry, Jayne. I've got it figured out ... well, most of it anyway. We'll get the rest figured out later."

The look on his face just blew me away. He totally meant it. He was so friggin brave and amazing in that moment, I couldn't help it - I leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek, surprised to feel beard stubble there. "You're my hero."

His face blushed bright red. "Yeah, whatever, come on." He held the door open for me, as usual. Same old Tony - but then again, not the same old Tony. Not the same old Tony at all.

"Does this mean I can't call you Tony Baloney anymore?"

He laughed. "You can call me anything you want, just don't call me late to dinner."

"Ugh, Tony, that is so old. You can do better than that."

"Okay," he said, walking down the front pathway to his driveway, "you can call me anything you want, just don't call me Freak."

"Word to your mutha, Tones."

"Talk about old."

"Whatevs. So, where to?"

"To the bus stop. We're going to Miami."

"What's in Miami?"

"I don't know ... more than what's here."

I shrugged my shoulders. Might as well. I pulled out my cell phone. "Okay, so what am I supposed to say to my mother?"

"Tell her we're going to the library to study late. We'll figure out what else to tell her later; we have a few hours."

I made the call really quick and then put my phone in my bag. She never asked questions anymore. I'm not even sure if she'd notice if I never came home; she'd probably be glad. I didn't want to think about why this had become the case at our house because it would harsh my new mellow, and I wasn't ready to get all bummed out again yet. There would be plenty of time for that on our little trip, because I knew Tony wasn't going to ignore my issues forever.

We walked a few blocks over until we got to the main street. We waited at the bus stop for about two minutes before climbing onto the one that took us to the Tri Rail station. We got off the bus and Tony stepped up to the vending machine, buying us two one-way tickets to Miami.

Chapter Three

"Okay, so we're here ... now what?" I hitched my backpack up over my shoulder, looking around the Miami train station. I was hoping Tony had a plan because I sure didn't.

"You guys lost?"

Tony and I turned to look at the guy walking up to us. He seemed to be about our age, maybe a little bit older, definitely scruffier. I was immediately suspicious.

"No, we're not lost, but thanks," said Tony, brushing him off. He dropped his bag from his shoulder to the ground, fishing around in it for what turned out to be a map.

"Why do you need a map if you're not lost?" asked the guy, now standing over Tony's stooped form.

I seriously wasn't in the mood for this. "Dude, we've got a map, therefore, we're not lost. Do you mind?"

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Yeah, hey, no problem. I was gonna offer you some help, but I guess you don't need it. See ya later." He strolled away, sitting down on a nearby bench and pulling out a cigarette.

"So where are we, Tony?" I asked in a low voice, keeping my eye on Mr. Helpful over on the bench, sure he was up to something.

Tony stood up next to me, showing me the map. "Well, we're here, at the station."

"And we're going ... ?"

"I'm not sure."

I left off monitoring Mr. Helpful to roll my eyes at Tony. "Whaddya mean, you don't know? Where're we going next?"

Tony shrugged his shoulders. "Wherever you want."

"Tony, this was your plan! Where are we going? I'm gonna have to call my mom and tell her, eventually."

"Well, to be honest, my plan was to get out of town. I didn't really think much beyond that; I figured you'd come up with something."

I put my fingers on the bridge of my nose, pinching it and squeezing my eyes shut, trying to stop the flood of swear words that were about to fly out of my mouth. "Tones, do you mean to tell me we came all the way down to Miami with fifty bucks between us and no plan at all?"

He looked at me through his impossibly horrible glasses, nodding soundlessly.

I glanced at Mr. Helpful who was smirking, blowing out obnoxious smoke rings.

"Sure you don't need my help?" he asked loudly, not even looking over at us.

I grabbed the map, frustrated, and went over to the bench, Tony on my heels. "Fine. You want to help? Tell us a good place to get some cheap dinner and maybe sleep too." I thrust the map towards him.

The weather was nice; I was thinking we could probably just find a nice spot on a beach somewhere and not worry about spending any money. It would be like camping in the Girl Scouts - not that I had ever done that or anything.

"You don't need a map, just follow me." He got up from the bench, rolling his cigarette between his two fingers until the ash fell off the end.

Tony and I looked at each other. Man, I wished I could speak telepathically with him because I really didn't want Mr. Helpful hearing what I wanted to say.

Tony didn't worry so much about that stuff, apparently. "I don't know, Jayne. We don't even know this guy."

"Oh yeah, sorry about that. Name's Jared ... Jared Bloodworth." Mr. Helpful held out his hand to Tony, putting the no-longer-lit cigarette butt in his front pocket with the other. "You've got nothing to worry about. I'll show you where I stay and you can decide if you want to stay there too or not; it's up to you. Sometimes there's food, too."

Tony took his offered hand, shaking it firmly. I continued to watch Mr. Helpful ... Jared ... trying to figure out if he had any ulterior motives hidden behind his dark brown eyes. I kinda suck at that though, so I gave up, shrugging my shoulders. Tony had his gun, and this guy didn't look too dangerous. He had kind of a freaky name, but that wasn't his fault. He was skinny and not much bigger than me, with brown hair swept around in a casual rocker kind of style. I was thinking I could take him if I had a little adrenaline rush going for me, which I probably would if he were trying to kill me. He looked like he could use a shower, but he didn't exactly appear homeless. His clothes were in decent shape. I still couldn't figure out the cigarette thing, though. Why did he put that disgusting filter in his pocket? I guess it was better than dropping it on the ground. Maybe he was a save-the-environment freak.

Jared strolled ahead of us, not seeming to care whether we followed or not. We walked a few blocks away from the train station, down some streets and alleys, into a commercial warehouse area. It was pretty rundown, some of the businesses having closed a long time ago. Our destination was in the back of a warren of single-story warehouses covered in graffiti.

Jared stopped in front of a beige metal door with a heavy-duty lock on it - the kind that has a thick metal plate over the latch area so no one can pick the lock or crowbar the door open. He banged on the door with his fist. "Open up, it's me, Jared."

Tony and I looked at each other. He put his hand in his bag, making me suddenly very nervous. The last thing I wanted to see was that gun coming out and Tony playing Rambo again.

We heard the lock click open. The door opened a crack while whoever was inside verified it was Jared standing there. The door opened a little bit more and then stopped. "Who the hell are they?" The female voice coming from within didn't sound very happy.

"Don't worry about it," said Jared, pushing on the door, opening it the rest of the way, the girl stepping back to make room. "After you," he said, gesturing to the gloomy dark interior.

Even though it was dark inside, the girl at the entrance was easy enough to see, illuminated by the light of the late afternoon Miami sun - bright and hot as hell. She was tall and skinny, a little dirty, hair almost scrappy-looking. None of this, though, could obscure her beautiful face.

Tony was awestruck. I elbowed him in the stomach so he would close his mouth, afraid he was going to drool on me. Tony's reticence about entering the dark warehouse disintegrated in the face of this Aphrodite standing in front of him. He stepped forward, entering the building and disappearing into the blackness within.

Jared stood looking at me expectantly. "What are you afraid of?"

Pfft. "Nothing," I said. False bravado is my friend. I stepped into the darkness behind Tony, hoping I wasn't about to become a teen runaway statistic.

Chapter Four

Once inside, our eyes adjusted quickly and we could see that Jared and Angry Girl weren't the only ones here. Three other teenagers were sitting on a couch and some chairs set up in the middle of the small warehouse. In the center of this not so cozy space was a banged up coffee table with a group of mismatched burning candles on top.

"Hey, Jared, what's up?" asked one of the kids sitting on the couch. He had a slight southern accent that I identified as coming from central or north Florida - a little rednecky in flavor. I immediately named him Tom Sawyer in my mind because he looked exactly like I always pictured that character - with straw colored hair and freckles, and a devilish look permanently stuck on his face. I could picture him sitting on a dock, fishing in one of central Florida's many gator-ridden lakes.

"Nothin'. Found some lost souls at the station. Meet ... " he gestured to us so we would introduce ourselves.

"Tony. Nice to meet you all."

"Jayne," I said. I wasn't sure yet if it was nice to meet them so I kept it short. Angry Girl was still making me feel a little unwelcome with the cold stare she was giving me. I gave her my hard look, hoping she scared easily. I've been told my hard look is not much scarier than a chipmunk's, but I do what I can.

Angry Girl shut the door behind us.

Tony stepped over closer to me, and I was glad for his nearness. I didn't feel threatened, but this wasn't my usual scene. The living rooms I was accustomed to had lights, electricity, and a house around them. I surveyed the room's vast openness and complete lack of decoration, thinking this would probably be a great place for a rave. I'd never been to one, but I'd seen them in the movies.

Jared asked the group sitting in the chairs, "Where's Spike?"

"He went out to play for a while, scare up some grub," answered Tom Sawyer.

"Spike's our resident musician. He plays over on Fifty-Fourth Avenue and usually makes enough money to buy a pizza and some coke," explained Jared. "Go ahead and have a seat, make yourselves at home." Jared turned his back on us to have a whispered conversation with Angry Girl.

Tony and I walked over and sat down on the couch next to each other and Tom Sawyer. Tony looked nervous, but probably no more than I did.

"So, Tony and Jayne, where are you guys from?" asked a small black-haired girl sitting in one of the chairs.

"West Palm," I said, not sure how much detail she wanted but unwilling to give more.

"Cool, I'm from Tampa. My name's Becky by the way. And that's Finn on the couch next to you from Apopka, Chase there is from Maryland, and Samantha at the door - she's from Miami. Nice to meet you guys."

"Finn?" I got a big grin on my face. I couldn't help it.

"What's so funny?" asked Finn.

"Oh nothing, just ... nothing. Nice to meet you, Finn." Huckleberry Finn, that is. I had almost gotten it right.

Finn looked at me suspiciously, probably not believing I wasn't somehow mocking him, since I still couldn't get the goofy grin off my face.

The Chase guy just sat there, not saying anything. He didn't look mad - actually he seemed pretty zen. He was sitting down, so I couldn't see all of him, but even so, it was easy to see he was a big guy with broad shoulders and thick legs. His hair was blonde and cut in a military style. He looked like he'd just dropped out of boot camp or something.

Becky seemed pretty nice. I was feeling less nervous being around her. She was super little, so I was pretty sure I could bring her down if need be. She sat cross-legged in the chair, practically bouncing every time she talked. She was one of those types that was always enthusiastic and for no apparent reason. Normally those kind of people bugged me, but she seemed okay.

It got really quiet, so we could hear Angry Girl, otherwise known as Samantha, arguing with Jared. I couldn't really hear what she was saying, but my guess was, she wasn't happy about us being there.

Tony elbowed me in the ribs. I looked at him and he was gesturing not too covertly towards the far wall, off to our right. There were some flattened cardboard boxes, a couple of mattresses, and what looked like some grungy sleeping bags, all set out in neat little rows.

"That's where we sleep," explained Finn, no expression on his face.

Yikes.  I wondered if we were going to be invited to sleep there. I was trying to figure out a polite way to turn them down when Samantha and Jared came over.

"Hi. I'm Samantha."

Obviously she'd been forced to play nice. Jared was standing casually off to the side. The pecking order was now becoming clear. Jared, Samantha, maybe Chase, Finn, Becky. Done. I wondered how long they had been here and what their stories were.

Tony pushed his glasses up higher on his nose. "Hi, Samantha, nice to meet you."

Tony was always so polite. He was my better half, if it were possible to have a non-romantically involved other half.

"So ... ," I stopped, unable to think of what to say next. I wasn't good with awkward silences.

Someone banged on the door, saving me from my sorry attempt at conversation. Samantha walked over and opened it, admitting a skinny guy with jet black, spiked hair and an acoustic guitar, also black. He walked in sideways, the last thing coming in being his right hand holding up a pizza like a delivery boy.

"Soup's on!" he said cheerfully.

Everyone smiled and offered him their congratulations. Apparently it's a big deal to come back from the streets carrying a pizza.

He brought the food and his guitar over to the sitting area, putting the food down on the table, saying, "Dig in; there's a piece for everyone, even the new guys." He smiled at Tony and me, holding out his now free hand. "I'm Spike. Welcome to our humble home."

Tony and I took turns shaking it. "Jayne and Tony," I said. Man, did Spike sure have a cute smile. And cool teeth, if it was possible to have cool teeth. They weren't movie star straight, but for some reason I dug them instantly. They suited his look perfectly - kinda messed up, friendly, sharp on the corners. As I was thinking it, I doubted my own sanity. I saw Tony staring at his smile too, though, so I made a mental note to ask him later what he thought of Spike's teeth . Tony wouldn't think I was crazy, I was pretty sure.

Everyone took a piece of pizza and ate in silence. Spike pulled a two-liter bottle of soda out of his backpack, and everyone but Tony and me took turns swigging directly out of the bottle.

"Worried about cooties?" asked Becky, giggling and then burping the cutest burp ever. What is it with tiny girls and their tiny burps?  When I burp, I sound like a trucker.

I shrugged. I wasn't going to lie; and I also wasn't going to drink after six pretty scrappy-looking runaways.

I was assuming they were runaways since they looked the part and seemed to be living together here in this warehouse. I could see that they were some sort of cohesive group - maybe not a family in the traditional sense of the word, but they ate together, slept together, and apparently had some sort of agreement between them that Jared was the boss and Spike kept them fed. At least, he provided the pizza and soda, which are two of the four main food groups in my world. I wondered how long they'd been together and how long they'd been living here in this warehouse.

Tony searched around in his bag and pulled out a bottle of water. We shared it, trying not to be too obvious about our cootie aversion. "Trying to cut back on the sugar," I offered as explanation. I'm not sure that they fell for it, but at least they acknowledged my effort to take the sting out of our rejection.

I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable; not because of the company we were keeping but because I had to go to the bathroom pretty badly. We'd been in the warehouse a couple of hours by this time, and so far all I'd been able to see from where I was sitting was the living room, front door, and sleeping area ... no bathroom. Luckily, Tony has a weaker bladder than I do.

"Um, guys, is there a bathroom we could use around here anywhere?" he asked.

"I'll take 'em," said Becky cheerfully. She jumped up off her chair. "Follow me. It's not far."

We grabbed our bags, following her out the door and down the nearby alley.

"So, did you guys just get here from West Palm?" she asked.

"Yeah," said Tony, "just before we came here to your place."

"You gonna stay a while or are you headed somewhere else?"

I elbowed Tony, signaling him not to give our secrets away, even though we really didn't have any secrets.

"Not sure. We don't really have a plan. We were going to find a spot to sleep near the beach or something."

"You don't want to do that," said Becky, a warning note in her voice. "It's not safe. There are some pretty mean guys who go there looking for homeless people - several kids have been beat up pretty bad lately." She turned and walked backwards. "You can stay with us. We've been here a few weeks now. It's not much, but it's dry and safe ... none of those guys know we're here."

"Do you know them - the ones who beat people up?" asked Tony.

"Not know them know them, but we're pretty sure we know who they are; gangster types that deal drugs and have prostitutes down there. Some of the beaches aren't too nice at night." She shrugged her shoulders and then turned back around. "Here we are."

We were standing in front of a blue and white port-a-potty.

"It smells pretty bad and it's not the cleanest thing in the world, but it's better than going in the street." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a wadded-up napkin, handing it to me. "Here, use this. It's mostly clean."

I took the napkin, staring at it. So this is what my life's come to.  I'm a teenage runaway using an abandoned port-a-potty and a gently-used Burger King napkin to wipe my nether regions. Oh well. At least I'm not getting my ass kicked down on the beach by a drug-dealing pimp.

"Thanks," I said, opening the door to the bathroom. "Whoof! Holy batballs ... what died in this thing?" I desperately waved my hand back and forth in front of my face, trying to get the smell away, but it just stirred it up worse. I was pretty sure the stink molecules had gotten stuck to my nostril hairs.

"Don't breathe through your nose. You'll get used to it."

I looked at her in horror. "Used to it? I think not." But I held my breath and went in anyway; I really had to go bad.

I tried not to touch anything, which was difficult because it was such a small space. I peed faster than I've ever peed before, and jumped out before I had even zipped up my pants. Tony had already done his business around the corner. This was not the first time in my life I wished I could pee standing up.

"Well, that was an adventure," I said, praying the smell of the craphole wasn't in my clothes or hair.

Becky smiled. "Life is never boring when you're on Jared's crew."

"Jared's crew?" I asked.

"We just call ourselves that, like a joke kind of. Jared is our unofficial leader. He found all of us and the warehouse. He's a good guy; he makes sure we stay safe and somehow get fed every day."

"How did he find all of you?" asked Tony, apparently as curious as I was about how this particular group of teens had ended up together.

"Oh, I don't know. He found me panhandling downtown. Samantha was in a fight outside a club one night when Jared found her."

"Surprise, surprise," I said. She seemed like a scrapper.

"She's not bad once you get to know her; she's just protective of our space. I think she's had some hard times ... we all have." She looked sideways at me. "Haven't you? Isn't that why you're here? Not many kids end up on the streets of Miami if they have a great life back home."

Tony opened his mouth to say something, but I didn't want this conversation going too far down confession lane, so I jumped in. "We just needed to get out of town for a few days, no big deal really. We'll be leaving soon."

Becky shrugged. "Whatever. Jared brought you to the warehouse, so that means you're part of the crew for as long as you want to be ... as long as you follow the rules anyway."

Okay, here comes the good stuff ... where they tell us we have to sacrifice a chicken or something to be a part of their club. "What rules?" I asked.

"No fighting, no drugs, no alcohol, no stealing, no bringing in strangers until Jared has checked them out ... and no littering."

I decided to test her. "What about the chicken sacrifices?" I wasn't sure exactly what the pass/fail on this question was, but it came out of my mouth before I could stop it, so I went with it.

Becky laughed. "No chicken sacrifices. No animals, actually; we don't want any barking or whatever telling people we're here. We have to lay low so we don't get kicked out."

"Seems reasonable," said Tony, obviously thinking out loud.

"Becky, will you excuse us a sec - I want to talk to Tony privately ... no offense."

"Oh, don't worry, none taken. I'll meet you back at the warehouse; it's just up there on the right." She smiled like a fool and then took off jogging towards the door we could see from where we were standing.

I stopped, grabbing Tony by the arm. "So, what do you think?" I asked.

"I don't know; they seem nice. They shared their dinner with us. And they don't sacrifice animals, so that's a point in their favor." Tony smiled at me. "I can't believe you said that ... no wait ... I can believe you said that."

"Yeah, well, you would have been pretty upset if they were animal sacrificers and they just sprung it on us later."

Tony laughed. "You're nuts. So are we staying with them or what?"

I thought about it for about two seconds, but I couldn't come up with any better options. "At least for tonight, since you don't have a friggin' clue what we're doing or where we're going or even how we're going to afford to feed ourselves."

"Yeah, well, we had to get outta there. And we still haven't really talked about why, Jayne."

I had to shut him up because I didn't want to talk about this issue we'd been dancing around. "Yeah, you and your Rambo moves with a-hole Flowers ... "

It was too dark now for me to see Tony's face, but I knew he was giving me one of his parent looks.

"That's not what I was talking about and you know it."

I pulled my phone out of my bag. "I have to text my mom. I'm telling her I'm staying at your place."

"You've never stayed the night at my place before. Think she'll buy it?"

"She doesn't care, Tony, trust me."

I sent off the text and a few seconds later I got 'OK' in return from her number. That's it. I shoved the hurt feelings down deep because I was not ready or willing to deal with them right now.

I showed him my screen. "See?"

Tony shrugged. "I can't do that with my parents. I'm going to tell them I'm at Robert's house - he'll cover for me." Tony sent off the texts to his parents and his chess club buddy, putting his phone back in his bag once he'd received confirmation that everything was okay. "We're all set."

I walked towards the warehouse, and Tony followed, saying, "We have to talk about this other issue, Jayne."

"I'm not talking to you about that crap right now. What I want to know is, first of all, what is with the no littering rule? And second of all, do I have to sleep on one of those gnarly sleeping mats they had? Because I'm already feeling itchy just thinking about it."

Tony jogged to catch up to me. "I think Jared is a tree-hugger or something so that's why he doesn't litter; and so you know, I brought two ultra-thin sleeping bags from my dad's camping stuff. If you want, we can just grab a cardboard thing for insulation and sleep in the bags on top."

I threw my arm across Tony's shoulders. "That is why you are my best friend."

"Because I bring sleeping bags when we run away?"

"Yes. Because even when you have your head totally up your butt and drag me to Miami with only fifty bucks in your pocket, you still make sure that I have a nice, clean place to sleep."

"Did I mention that I also brought a blow up mini pillow for your head?"

"Did I mention that I love you?"

We reached the door and stood there in the near dark, facing each other.

"So we're doing this? We're going to sleep with Jared's crew tonight?" I asked.

"Yep, for tonight. Then we decide what to do in the morning."

I banged on the door for admittance. "It's us - Tony and Jayne."

The lock clicked open and the door swung in a few inches to reveal Samantha standing in the opening. "Oh. You're back."

"Disappointed?" I asked, ready to call her bluff. I knew how this crew operated. Jared called the shots, not her.

She snorted, stepping aside, opening the door the rest of the way. I thought as I walked by I saw her smile, but I couldn't be sure. Her face was quickly hidden in shadows as she moved to close and lock the door behind us.

Chapter Five

"Holy crap, Tones, my back is killing me." I tried to move out of my sleeping bag, but my body didn't want to cooperate. The floor was concrete and the cardboard box that had been my mattress was useless. My teeth felt like they had sweaters on them, and my tongue was covered in some kind of heinous goo. How do homeless people do this every day? I decided then and there that I needed to not be homeless - or at least be homeless for as short a period of time as possible.

"Mine too," he groaned out. "I think this is what arthritis feels like."

Everyone around us was waking up. Jared had gone to the door, propping it open with a rock, letting the sunshine in.

"Another beautiful day in paradise," he said, pulling a cigarette pack out of his pocket.

I walked up to look out the door. "Those things'll kill ya, you know."

"We're all going to die sooner or later," he said, lighting the end of it. "Some of us much later."

"Better later than sooner," was Tony's reply as he walked by both of us and out into the sun. "Where's a good place to get some food for breakfast?"

The others joined us outside, rubbing faces and heads, trying to wake up the rest of the way. Finn was the first one to respond.

"There's a 7-11 four blocks thatta way." He gestured off towards the train station.

"Chase likes to go to the IHOP which is about a quarter mile that way; but it costs more money," said Becky, smiling already even though it was only eight in the morning.

Why is she so happy all the time? Sometimes happy people annoy me this early in the morning.

Chase just stood there saying nothing, swinging his torso left and right to crack his back. Samantha stood apart from the rest of the group, playing with the tip of a blade sticking out of her Swiss army pocketknife. She and Chase made a good couple - a silent, angry couple.

I looked around and realized someone was missing. "Where's Spike?"

"He'll be here soon. He's a night owl; he usually sleeps during the day," explained Becky.

Sure enough, no sooner were the words out of her mouth, when Mr. Dark and Sexy came around the corner, walking towards us.

"Hey, guys, what's up?"

"Nothin'," answered Becky. "Anything interesting happen last night?"

"Only this!" he said excitedly, pulling out a piece of folded-up paper from one of his pockets. He handed it to Jared, who put his cigarette in his mouth and went quiet for a few seconds, reading it.

"What is it?" asked Finn.

"A job we can all do, and it pays good too," said Spike.

"Where'd you find this?" asked Jared.

"It was hanging in the laundry place we use, the Wash-n-Fold over on fifty-second."

Jared took the cigarette out of his mouth and rolled it between his fingers, causing the entire end of hot ash to fall off. He put the butt in his pocket.

Why in the heck does he keep doing that?  I was going to have to ask him one of these days.

Samantha walked over to stand by Jared's side, looking over his shoulder. "What is it?"

Jared read aloud from the paper.

"Institutional clinical trial, seeking physically fit test subjects to participate in fitness activities/focus group study. Compensation $500 paid to those who complete the test. Time required: five days. Must be eighteen or over to participate."

"What kind of fitness activities?" asked Samantha.

"Five hundred bucks? That's a lotta spendin' cash," said Finn, obviously impressed.

Jared continued. "Informational meeting and pre-screening to take place on March third at one o'clock p.m., Miami Hyatt, Hacienda Meeting room. Sponsored by One Eleven Group."

"That's today," said Becky.

Jared stared at the paper. I watched his eyes go back and forth, re-reading it several times. He sighed, folding it up and putting it in his back pocket.

"Whaddya think?" asked Finn.

Everyone waited for Jared's answer. I looked at Tony, and he shrugged his shoulders slightly. I was thinking about the five hundred bucks. Tony and I were pretty physically fit, probably him more than me, and it wasn't like we had anything else to do. Plus, we needed some money if we were going to work on that not-being-homeless thing, which was pretty high on my priority list right now.

"Let's have a meeting," said Jared, turning to go back into the warehouse. Everyone but Tony and I followed him in.

"What do you think?" I asked Tony.

"Might as well go to the informational meeting ... we need some money."

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking."

Becky stuck her head out the door. "Are you guys coming?"

Tony and I shared a look and then went inside. We weren't officially part of the crew, but I wanted to hear what they were going to do.

"So, show of hands, who thinks we should go check it out?" asked Jared.

Everyone but Chase raised their hands.

"Chase, what's up?" asked Jared.

Everyone stared at the guy who never talked. This should be interesting. Maybe he's one of those guys who only speaks every once in a while, but when he does it's really earth-shattering.

"Dunno," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

Or not.

"Come on, you must be thinking something, otherwise you would've raised your hand."

"Just seems like a lot of money for a fitness test."

"That's what I was thinking, too," said Jared, sounding a little bit concerned.

Becky looked at Tony and me. "What about you guys? Are you going to go?"

I looked at Tony and he nodded his head, so I said, "We're going to go check it out, see what's what. It's just an informational meeting - can't hurt just to go hear what they have to say."

Jared looked at his crew to gauge their reactions. Everyone seemed to be in agreement. "Unless anyone has any objections, I say we all go to the meeting, like Jayne and Tony are, see what's going on with this test and if it's something we want to do."

"Cool!" said Becky excitedly.

"Awesome," said Finn, also looking happy.

"Whatever," said Samantha, getting up to go back outside, probably to go sharpen her knife or something.

Chase nodded his head once.

Spike smiled with those amazing teeth of his, blazing white, right at me. "See you there. I'm gonna catch some Zs now." He got up off the couch, walked over, and leaped onto a mattress. I heard him snoring less than a minute later.

Chapter Six

Tony and I ate a quick breakfast of granola bars and juice boxes from his duffle bag in companionable silence, while we sat on the beach listening to the rhythmic sounds of the waves and the seagulls screeching above. I picked up some thick-grained sand, examining it closely. I'd seen sand lots of times, but never paid much attention to it before. I realized I was holding a million or so tiny pieces of rock and seashell in my hand; it made me wonder how many other little details of life I'd missed along the way. I let the sand filter out through the cracks in my fingers while I scanned the shoreline for evidence of beat-up homeless teens, thankfully not finding any. The sun was already soothingly warm on my skin, and the sand sure felt like a more comfortable place to sleep than that concrete floor. Becky's warnings were getting farther and farther away in my mind.

Tony sucked the last of his juice from his juice box. "I think we would have been more comfortable out here on the sand last night than on that concrete."

I just stared at him, a little creeped out by the fact that he'd just read my mind. He really needed to stop doing that.

Tony noticed my look. "What? What'd I say?"

I shook my head, unwilling to speak about it.

"Tell me."

"It's nothing."

Tony stared at me for a few seconds, making me wish I could read his mind. He was very busy thinking something that looked important.

"Spike has a nice smile," he said, looking at me intently.

I didn't know what to say at first. Yes, Spike did have a nice smile, and really awesome teeth, but why would Tony bring that up now? And why did he say it at all? I'd never mentioned Spike's smile to him, and we weren't talking about Jared's crew at that moment.

Tony kept staring at me, and it was starting to freak me out a little. I realized he was waiting for an answer.

"Yeah, he does."

"See, I already knew that you liked his smile."

"Am I that transparent?" Shit. I thought I was being all cool when I was checking him out. I hate when people catch me oogling someone.

"Not to other people, but to me you are."

"Well, you know me better than anyone else in the world, so that's not surprising."

Tony remained silent for a minute, as if he were searching for what he wanted to say - I could see it on his face. I waited patiently for what was coming; it seemed important to him.

"It's more than that."

"More than that? Like how?" I'm not sure I really wanted to know but I asked anyway. Stupid me.

Tony drew shapes in the sand with his finger, avoiding my gaze. "Do you want to know why I had that gun in my bag? Why I had this plan to leave town?"

Uh-oh. We were here now ... talking about stuff I'd rather not be talking about.

"No, but that's okay. I'm sure you had your reasons and I'm here to support you." Maybe he'd go for the distractor.

"Listen, Jayne, we have to talk about this."

I sighed. He wasn't going to let it go. I was feeling sick again. "Whatever." My usual sarcasm wasn't jumping to my lips. All I had left was helplessness, and that just pissed me off.

"I want to tell you something that happened to me a couple weeks ago," said Tony, still swirling his fingers around in the sand.

This sounded safer than talking about me, so I felt a little bit better already. "Okay ... "

"I was in bed, ready to fall asleep ... maybe I was already a little asleep ... and suddenly I heard you yelling. At first I was thinking it was there in my house, the yelling, but then I realized it was in my dream - but I wasn't dreaming. I was in some sort of sleep state, but not totally asleep ... do you know what I mean?" He looked at me for confirmation.

I had to be honest. "No, not really."

"Well, anyway, I couldn't help myself - I fell deeper into this state, whatever it was, and I was suddenly with you. I couldn't see anything, but I could hear you and feel your panic, your anger ... your fear."

My face was burning. I knew the night he was talking about. It was the first night that my mother's boyfriend had come into my room.

"I didn't have to see to know what was happening, Jayne. He was there. Your mother's boyfriend."

"I get it! You don't have to say it!" I yelled, standing up and unintentionally spraying sand all over Tony's lap. "I don't want to re-live it, okay?!"

I walked towards the water, leaving my bag behind. I just needed to get away from what he was saying. I'd tried to forget that night and the few others that had happened since. Nightmares. His beer-stinking breath, fumbling hands. I learned after the first night to lock my door. When that didn't work, I had weapons ready. Asshole didn't know what hit him.

Tony was struggling behind me, carrying both of our bags. "Wait! Jayne, wait! I'm sorry!"

I stopped, giving him a chance to catch up.

Tony was practically wheezing by the time he got to me. "I'm sorry. I'm ... " He had to stop to catch his breath. "I didn't mean to ... make you upset. I just wanted ... to try and figure out ... ," he dropped the bags at our feet, " ... why it is that I'm in your head sometimes ... "

I realized what he was trying to say, and the horribleness of my situation became overshadowed by the strange, otherworldly stuff he was describing.

"In my head?" The idea of Tony in my head was both scary and entertaining at the same time.

"Kind of - yeah."

"What's it like in there?" I was smiling now, thinking of all the ways I could torture Tony without lifting a finger. Too bad the kid was as loony as a ... loon.

"Why aren't you taking this seriously?" he asked, frustrated.

"Because, Tony, it's ridiculous. You had some crazy, effed up dream, and now suddenly you're in my head."

"It wasn't a dream, Jayne. I heard you; I felt your feelings. Don't try to tell me something didn't happen with him."

"You're just projecting or something," I said, defensively.

"Oh, yeah? Well how did I know you liked Spike's smile or his teeth or something? And by the way, that's a little crazy, liking someone's teeth, don't you think?"

I didn't know what to say. It probably was weird to like someone's teeth, but how the heck did he know I'd thought that?

I was willing to consider his arguments, but still wasn't convinced. "You just liked his teeth and now you're acting like it's me who liked them. Or, you're trying to do some kind of brainwashing thing."

"I've got one thing to say to you," said Tony, a defiant look on his face.

I hate that look; I usually see it on those rare occasions when Tony finally puts his foot down and I had to let him have his way. Not this time, buddy, I was thinking.

He said two words: "Tom Sawyer."

My eyes bugged out of my head. "No!"

"Yes!"

"Tony, that is just rude!"

"What's rude?"

"Getting in my head like that! Those thoughts are private!"

Tony nearly exploded. "I know that! Do you think I want to be in your head? Do you think I want to wander around in that crazy place you call your mind? I don't want to be in there! I care about you, you know that, you're my best friend. But seriously, no offense ... I could never ever go back there again and be perfectly happy for the rest of my life. Do you know how busy your head is? Like, all the time busy. You never stop flooding your brain with thoughts and emotions and ideas and feelings ... it's exhausting!" He stopped to catch his breath, but before I could get a word in edgewise, he was off again. "I would do anything to stop it, but I can't control it. One minute I'm drifting off to a nice, quiet, uninteresting sleep and then all of a sudden - bam \- I'm there in your bedroom ... or I'm in your brain in History class, or Psychology or Health class. Health class! Can you imagine what that's like for me in your head during Health?!"

I couldn't help it; I giggled. We had just recently been going over the male genitalia in that class. It was super hilarious, and I did spend an inordinate amount of time running some internal commentary in my head while looking at the pictures we were seeing on the teacher's slideshow.

"It's not funny. It's been torture for me, not saying anything to you. We have to figure out how to turn this thing off." Tony was trying to stay serious, but he couldn't help laughing along with me, particularly since my giggles had turned into hardcore cracking-up at this point.

"What am I thinking ... right now?" I had a hard time saying it because I couldn't stop snorting. I was focusing really hard on recalling the picture of a cross section of a testicle from page fifty of our textbook. Don't ask me why I remember the page number.

"It doesn't work like that, thank God. It only happens sometimes and not when I try to do it."

"When you try? Tony, have you tried to get into my head?" I looked at him suspiciously, the laughter fading quickly.

He started to squirm a little. "No, not really. Well, okay, I did try a couple times ... but not to invade your privacy!" He could see I was getting cranky, so he tried quickly to calm me down. "I just wanted to see if I could turn it on, because I figured if I could turn it on, I could learn how to turn it off, see?" He looked at me hopefully, a little bit of desperation in his eyes.

"Fine." I sighed. It made sense. I knew for sure I wouldn't want to be floating around in his head. I loved the guy, but I preferred to keep a little mystery in our relationship. "So, you don't know what I'm thinking right now?"

"No. I just get the slight feeling that you're not so mad anymore. You were mad earlier."

"Right. You're right - I was mad, but I'm not anymore. I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt me on purpose."

"Never in a million years," said Tony, earnestly.

I grabbed my backpack off the sand. "Well, nobody ever said life with me was going to be dull."

Tony grabbed his bag too. "Nope. Never has been, so I don't expect it will be anytime soon."

We stood on the beach smiling at each other. That lasted a full two seconds before Tony had to go ruin it with his persistence again. I think maybe he learned a little of that from me.

"So, about your mother's boyfriend ... "

"Leave it!" I said forcefully, walking away.

"I just wanted to ask you what you did. I know you did something that made you very happy." He was walking at my elbow now, refusing to be left behind. "You kicked his ass, didn't you?" He was smiling, like he already knew the answer.

"You were there, you tell me," I challenged, still miffed at him that he wouldn't let it drop.

"I told you, it doesn't work like that. I don't see anything; I hear and feel ... that's it. I felt ... triumph. That's the only way to describe it."

I smiled in bitter memory of that night. "Yep, you could call it 'triumph'."

"Tell me, Jayne; stop playing with me."

"Fine, you really want to know? I'll tell you. That night, the third night he came - after I found out the bastard could pick my lock - I was waiting for him. I had my softball bat in bed with me. When he came over and tried to touch me, I pulled the bat out and jabbed him in the nuts with it; and then when he was down on the floor, I took my dad's old electric hair razor, and I buzzed off one of his eyebrows and shaved a strip down the side of his head before he got away."

Tony's eyes nearly fell out of his head; he was unable to speak for a full five seconds. Then he whispered, "No?!"

"Yep." I stared straight ahead, no expression on my face. "Why do you think he left town that night, not even saying goodbye to my mom? No way was he going to be able to explain that shit away."

"Holy crap, Jayne." He was smiling. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

"Yeah, well, don't ever try to put your grubby hands on me in the middle of the night and you won't have anything to worry about."

He looked at me, a little concerned, before he caught my smile. We both laughed at the same time. I was thinking about what that perv had looked like when he hobbled out the door that night minus one eyebrow and a strip from his hair. Tony was probably laughing because he felt sorry for me, but what the hell - it felt good.

"I'm so glad you're my friend, Jayne," said Tony, putting his arm around my shoulders. He still loved me, even though that slimy douche had tried to put his hands on me.

"Me too, Tones, me too. Want to go back to the warehouse? See what everyone else is doing?"

"Nah, let's go to the library ... use their computers to go on the Internet and see what we can find out about that company doing the fitness study."

I nodded in appreciation of his brilliance. "Excellent idea. We can also look up 'psychic phenomenon', see what we can do about this gift of yours - or curse, depending on how you look at it." We reached the seawall that ran the length of the beach, bordered on one side by the sand and the other by a wide sidewalk, now empty. It was still too early for many people to be out. We climbed over the wall and stood there, looking up and down the street that was about ten feet away. "So where's the library?" I asked.

"I have no idea."

I rolled my eyes. "Tony, Tony, Tony ... what am I going to do with you?"

"What? ... We're not lost ... we have a map, remember?" He smiled at me with a cocky grin.

I wasn't used to seeing that on his face, but I liked it. I liked it a lot. "You'd better be careful, Tones. I think I'm being a bad influence - rubbing off on you."

"Yeah, well, I don't think that's so bad," he said, dropping his bag off his shoulder and bending down to retrieve the map from inside.

I looked out across the distant ocean while he figured out where we needed to go. The same waves were crashing on the shore, over and over. The seagulls were still screeching. I was still surrounded by millions of pieces of crushed up rock and seashell. Everything was the same, and yet, everything had changed, too. Funny how change can sneak up on you when you least expect it.

Chapter Seven

We found nothing of use on the Internet. There was no record of a One Eleven company being registered as a business in Florida. After searching around for an hour and then browsing through some books and magazines for another two, we decided to head over to the area where the informational meeting was being held. It was only about five blocks away. The sun wasn't shining as brightly as it had been earlier, and the temperature had dropped a little too, but that wasn't so unusual for this time of year in Florida. In Spring, the weather tended to be a little fickle.

We stopped at a sandwich shop and got a sub and a soda, sharing it on our way to the hotel meeting room. I told the guy making our sandwich to hold the onions, but he'd obviously ignored me. I was hoping to see Spike again soon, but now I was worried that I'd breathe my horrid onion breath on him and he'd never want to talk to me up close again ... or do other stuff. Hey ... a girl can dream, right?

"Whatever you're thinking about right now, stop," said Tony, as he pushed on the revolving door at the hotel entrance.

I walked next to him in a slow circle towards the hotel's interior. "What's the matter, getting you nervous?"

"No, you're feeling all warm and stuff, and it makes me feel funny," he said, not meeting my eyes.

"Wow. This does complicate things, doesn't it?" I didn't want to think of all the ramifications. "I thought it only happened when you were going to sleep."

"I think when you're close to me, it's easier to fall into that state of connectedness. When you're far, it has to be a stronger emotion or I have to be in some sort of sleep-like state. That's my theory right now. Don't hold me to it though; it could change."

Our Internet search on psychic reading abilities had spewed out so much garbage, it was hard to filter through it all to come up with something that made sense. There were so many kooks out there claiming to be psychics and vampires and God knows what else. It was frustrating trying to find real information. We decided to go back another time and look again. We'd run out of time and mojo to do it any longer today.

We got directions from someone at the front desk to the meeting room, and arrived at the door to find Chase, Finn, Samantha, and Becky waiting out front.

"Hey, guys!" said Becky, cheerfully. "You made it!"

"Yeah. What's going on? You guys going in?" I asked.

"We're waiting for Jared and Spike," said Finn.

"Anyone else here?" asked Tony.

"Yeah, there's a couple people already in there ... some ol' lady, an ol' guy too. Can't tell if the person runnin' the show is here or not ... don't look like it." Apparently, Finn had been assigned the mission of scoping out the room ahead of time.

"I guess we'll see you guys in there, then," I said, nudging Tony's arm. He was busy acting like he wasn't staring at Samantha again. She was looking in the opposite direction, down the hall, oblivious to his crush.

We went in and took seats in the middle - not all the way in front and not in the back. It wasn't in my nature to be an eager beaver, but I also didn't want to look like a total slacker - there was five hundred bucks on the line, after all. The middle was the best place. I could tell, though, that Tony wanted to be in the front row. He was a front row, note-taking kind of guy. Two years of me still hadn't broken him of that. It was probably for the better.

Soon enough, Jared and Spike arrived. The rest of the crew came in, taking seats in various places. They didn't sit right next to each other, with the exception of Chase and Becky, who sat together on the right side of the room. I wondered about that, assuming they would all want to present a united front. I also wondered if Chase and Becky had something going on. That would be an odd couple. I would have expected her to be with Finn before Chase. For some reason, I was pairing Chase and Samantha up in my mind; but what did I know? Tony would say that I suck at matchmaking. He had the scars to prove it, too.

Spike flashed Tony and me a smile as he moved across the room. I tried to keep my blood pressure under control, but it was hard. I kicked Tony under the table in case he was creeping around in my head. I didn't need him knowing I was getting all hot and bothered over a stupid smile. But damn, Spike has the coolest teeth!

At one o'clock on the dot, the door opened and a man walked in. He was old. I don't know how old exactly because I'm terrible at guessing ages, but he had silver hair. It was thick and kind of wavy. Not long, but not military short either. He wore a silver-gray suit. It wasn't quite shiny, but I wouldn't say it was dull either. His eyes were the most striking thing about him - they were icy gray and matched his suit really well, actually. I never thought about matching my eyes to my clothes, which was probably a good thing, since they're a mottled combination of mostly green, with brown and gold - a hazel mix that looked a lot like camouflage. I didn't look good in army gear.

When the old guy smiled, I noticed that he had movie star teeth; they were perfectly straight and dazzling white. But they weren't nearly as interesting as Spike's choppers.

"Hello, and welcome to the informational meeting sponsored by One Eleven Group. I assume you have all read the advertisement and know that we are seeking some very special candidates to participate in a study we are conducting. This is a fitness-type study, so it does have some basic physical and mental health requirements. The purpose of today's meeting is to give you information about the study and, for those of you who are interested in participating, a battery of tests to determine your suitability." He looked out over the group of us, resting his eyes on no one in particular. I was waiting to hear clues about the test or about this One Eleven company while also sneaking glances at Spike. I could only see the back of his head and part of his face. Dammit.

"The test will commence tomorrow; we are truly sorry about the short notice. We had some scheduling conflicts, so it couldn't be avoided. Hopefully, this will not interfere with your ability to participate." He stopped to share a smile with us. It was very cool and professional, not reaching his eyes.

"The test itself lasts three full days, and then there will be one day after for our ... ahem ... focus group." He reached down to take a sip of water from the glass on the table next to him; he seemed to have a bit of a frog in his throat.

He continued, "You will be provided transportation from the Miami Executive Airport to the test location. After the test is complete, you will be brought back to the same airport. For those who finish the test successfully, you will be paid five hundred dollars in cash upon arrival at the airport. For those of you who do not finish the test, but who do complete parts of it, you will receive compensation based on how much of the test you do complete." He clasped his hands together and gave one of those million-dollar smiles again. "Does anyone have any questions?"

I saw the crew look around at each other and then at Jared. He just stared at the guy in gray. Tony leaned in towards me and whispered, "Do we have any questions?"

I decided not to wait for anyone else to break the ice. "Where is your company from and what is the purpose of this test?" There. That'll get the ball rolling.

"And your name is, Miss ... ?"

"Jayne."

"Thank you, Jayne, for your question. One Eleven Group is a think tank of sorts, located overseas, mainly in France, but we have branches elsewhere as well. Its purpose is to study humans ... people ... in their environments, and through our tests, we seek to identify those who have certain qualities, so that we can better understand our possible futures."

Well that's about as clear as mud. "Thank you, mister ... sorry, I don't remember your name."

"Oh, no, my apologies, Jayne, I should have introduced myself already. My name is Anton Dardennes." He said it with some kind of accent ... maybe French, I wan't sure. It sounded cool, though. I could never say it the way he did; there was something going on with that 'r' of his. It almost sounded like he said 'Doll-den'.

I noticed Finn and Becky looking over at me. I caught their eyes and they both nodded slightly. Apparently, they approved of my questions. I waited to see who else was going to get to the bottom of this mysterious test.

Chase leaned over to whisper in Becky's ear. As soon as he straightened, she raised her hand.

Mr. Dardennes gestured to her raised hand. "Yes?"

"I ... I mean, we ... we were wondering, where is the test location?"

"The test location is confidential. We will bring you there and back, but we cannot reveal its exact location because we do not wish to compromise the validity of our test results."

Another clear as mud answer.  Normally when someone doesn't give me information I think I should have, I am instantly on my guard. But for some reason, this particular secret didn't seem like that big of a deal to me. I couldn't see how it would hurt us not knowing where we were going. I decided to let that one slide. I looked at Tony and he gave me a slight nod, as if he agreed. Maybe this mind reading stuff isn't all bad, I thought.

"If there are no more questions, we can commence with the battery of tests. For those of you not interested in participating, we ask that you leave now. The next phase of this meeting will take approximately one hour. There will be a written exam and then an interview."

We waited to see if anyone was going to get up, but everyone stayed. Apparently no one else was feeling too concerned about the lack of specific information either.

The door opened and another man came in, carrying a stack of papers. I almost laughed when I saw him because this guy was the last person you'd expect to see being some kind of secretary. He was super buff - even with the suit he was wearing, you could see it. His neck was thick, his hair short. He looked like a combat guy dressed up in his Sunday best. He spoke quietly with Mr. Dardennes for a minute before Mr. Dardennes left the room.

The buff guy walked around he room, giving each of us a packet of papers as he passed by. He didn't look at anyone, keeping his eyes focused on the materials in his hands and where he was walking.

On the top of the papers he handed us was a basic application form, asking for our name, address, phone number and other similar stuff. There were also some health questions like you'd answer on a doctor's office form.

Buff-Guy stood at the front of the room, speaking in a deep, gravelly voice that was slightly accented. He had a different type of accent than Mr. Dardennes did - possibly Slavic or Russian or something.

"Please fill out the forms on top. After you have completed your papers, put them on the table up here. When everyone has finished that part, we will begin the written test. It will be timed and you will have thirty minutes to complete it." He turned and left the room.

Everyone began filling out the forms. I looked at Tony and gestured towards the name and address section. He gave a very slight shake of his head, agreeing with me that we shouldn't put our real information down. I remembered the ad said we had to be eighteen to participate. Tony and I were both still seventeen. I nudged him and pointed to the birthday question on the form, subtracting a year off my date to qualify myself, watching as Tony did the same. For our addresses, we both used a street near our high school. It was more like a fib than an outright lie - I mean, it was in the same neighborhood, at least. If they asked me for identification, I was going to say that I didn't have any. It wasn't that strange to not have a driver's license in Miami ... the public transportation was pretty good. Hopefully, since the One Eleven guys weren't from Florida, they wouldn't know any better about West Palm. Without a driver's license there, you would be stranded most of the time. It wasn't that the city didn't have public transportation, it was just that I normally wouldn't be caught dead on it. There were some serious weirdoes on those buses, which Tony and I found out firsthand when we took the bus to the Tri-Rail station. One guy was sitting in his seat, yelling at no one in particular. He seemed to be hearing an invisible person talking back, too, the way he was one minute shouting and the next minute listening to a response that neither Tony nor I could hear. It seemed like a lot more time than just one day had passed since Tony and I had been on that weird little adventure.

Tony elbowed me out of my daydream. "You done?" he asked, standing to go up to the front with his form.

I signed at the bottom of the form, under some disclaimer I didn't bother reading. "Yep. Here ... " I gave him my paper, and he left to deliver them both to the table in front. My dad is a lawyer and would have flipped his wig over me signing a form before reading the legal stuff. That was part of the reason why I made it a policy not to. My dad was a real dickwad, so it made me happy to do things that got under his skin.

Not long after, everyone else finished their forms and stacked them on the table in the front of the room. I was curious about what Jared's crew was going to use as addresses and birthdays. I'd bet Becky wasn't eighteen yet ... probably not Finn either. The others probably were, though. They looked older, especially Jared.

Mr. Dardennes walked back into the meeting room with Buff-Guy. "Anyone need more time?" he asked, looking around. When no one answered, he continued. "Good, then let's begin with the timed test." He picked up the forms we had just completed from the table and handed them to his assistant, who left the room.

"Please break the seal on your packet. You will find an answer sheet under the first page. Take it out and fill in your names at the top. Don't bother filling out the other information." He waited two minutes while we did that.

I felt like I was getting ready to take the pre-S.A.T. test in school again.

"This test is timed. You will have thirty minutes to complete it. Please read the instructions carefully before answering the questions. Good luck ... you may now begin."

I turned the page on the test to reach the first question. 'How many hours per day do you sleep?' Hmmm. That's a tough one. My answer depended on whether there was anything interesting going on. I marked an answer and moved on, not believing for a second that it even mattered.

'Do you ever have a sense of déjà vu?' Of course, doesn't everyone? Next question ... 'Do you ever hear voices telling you to do things?'  Oh, come on, who's going to say yes to that? Next ... 'If you were going to take a vacation of your choice, where would you go? (a) the mountains, (b) the plains, (c) the desert, (d) the ocean.'

Hmmm. That one was harder. Definitely 'no' for the desert and ocean options. I lived in Florida because I was forced to, not because it was my choice. Maybe if I lived somewhere else, I'd pick '(d) ocean', but being a resident of a vacation resort area made the ocean seem like no big deal to me. I chose '(a) Mountains'. I loved the mountains, especially the forest part. I'd only gone to the mountains in North Carolina and Tennessee, but they were magically awesome. It was a long time ago, but I still remembered it fondly. I had to shake my head to get it back into the test.

The next section was similar to one I'd seen in school before. There were a series of shapes and I had to pick the next shape in the sequence. I was good at those.

The last section was weird as hell. I'd never seen anything like it before. The instructions said specifically that we were not to guess answers, and each question had the same letter (d) response: 'I don't know.'

I looked over at Tony who was already on that section. He had a lost look on his face, so I knew he was thinking the same thing as me. The first question was: 'What color are Mr. Dardennes' eyes?'. The answer was '(c) Gray', but what the hell? The next question was even weirder. 'What is the weather like outside right now?'

We were in a windowless room on the inside of a hotel, on the bottom floor. Chances are it was sunny outside - it was Miami after all. But what the heck kind of question was that? The instructions said I wasn't supposed to guess, so I was getting ready to answer with letter (d), but then I thought about it for a second, looking over my answer choices.

(a) It is sunny and dry.

(b) It is rainy and warm.

(c) It is snowing.

(d) I don't know.

Snowing? Ha. That's funny. I was thinking about marking it just for the hell of it, but I stopped, reminding myself that we really needed this money. This wasn't school where I would mark '(c)' without thinking about it. Memories of the warehouse's hard concrete floor trickled through my mind.

I breathed in deeply through my nose, thinking about the outside of the hotel. As I inhaled, I smelled something funny. What is that smell? I'd smelled it before, I knew I had. I couldn't put my finger on it, though. Oh well, no time to ponder. I wanted to get the test over with, so marked (d) on the weather question. It felt wrong, but I was running out of time.

I continued taking the strange test, answering more crazy questions. The last one was my favorite, though. It wasn't a multiple choice; it was an essay question with ten blank lines under it. The question was:

'If you could be a superhero, which one would you be and why? Fill in the lines below with your answer.'

Superhero? Good guy or bad guy? Do I have to stick to female superheroes or can I pick a male one? So far, their instructions had been pretty specific. I decided there were no limits since they hadn't given any. I looked at the clock; I had five minutes left. I gazed around the room and saw that some people were already filling out their answer and some still hadn't gotten there yet. Tony was already done. He was always faster than me on tests.

My favorite superheroes were of the X-Men variety. I loved the one with the wings, but only because I'd always wondered what it would be like to fly. I wasn't sure that having wings would be very useful or practical in reality, though, so I scratched that one off my mental list. The laser-vision thing would be cool - until you accidentally lasered your house or your best friend. I thought about several other superpowers, and it seemed like most of them had super shitty side effects that I would never want to have to deal with.

What powers would I like? Hmmmm ... I liked the ability to control the minds of others; that would be cool. I think I would like to see through things, like with x-ray vision. Superhuman strength would come in handy, no matter where I was. The problem is, none of these powers added up to one particular superhero, man or woman. Did Superman have x-ray vision? I couldn't remember. He was kind of old-school anyway, plus he had to wear tights and a cape. I sure wasn't going to be any superhero wearing tights or some trampy negligee like Wonderwoman did. Who made those costumes anyway? They were totally impractical for fighting crime.

I looked up at the clock and realized I only had two minutes left. Dammit, I was running out of time. I really wanted to answer this question and pick a superhero for some reason. I tapped my pencil on the side of my head. Think, think ... come on, think! Wait ... yes! I had something. I quickly scribbled it down and gave the accompanying explanation. As I put my last period on the paper, Mr. Dardennes walked in the door.

"Your time is up," he said. "Thank you for passing your tests to the front of the room."

We all passed our booklets up. I wondered which superhero Tony picked. Probably Spiderman. I knew he had some Spiderman comics in his room the last time I was there.

"For those of you interested in continuing, there will now be a brief personal interview, conducted in a separate room. We will take you in alphabetical order by first name. While the interviews are taking place, the rest of you may remain here in this room. Refreshments will be provided."

The door opened and several hotel employees filed in, carrying trays of sandwiches and chips, and wheeling bins of sodas on a cart. Within five minutes they had a whole lunch buffet set up. Tony and I had eaten half a sub before we came, but with our current situation being what it was, I decided I should eat anyway. Neither of us knew when our next good meal was going to be.

"Our first interview will be with Becky."

Becky stood and followed Mr. Dardennes out of the room, glancing back at all of us with her trademark happy smile. The rest of us got up and served ourselves lunch.

Tony came back to the table, his plate piled high with four sandwiches.

"Hungry?" I asked.

"Not really. I'm going to wrap these up in something and put them in my bag for later."

"Brilliant ... me too. Be right back." I made a second trip to the buffet, grabbing three more sandwiches and two bags of chips. I noticed Jared's crew doing the same thing.

Even with all of us grabbing four times what we could eat, there were still plenty of sandwiches left. Dardennes' company must have been expecting more people. There were only about five extra seats, though. Oh well. Someone had made an error in calculating the food needed, and I was going to capitalize on it. I grabbed some napkins from the stack for wrapping up our sandwiches.

I got back to the table and all but one of Tony's sandwiches was already gone. He wrapped mine up quickly and shoved them in his bag to join the others. We ate the ones we still had on our plates.

The door opened and Becky stepped through before I was finished. "Chase, you're next. Go down the hall that way, and go in the last door on the left."

Becky went up to the buffet, taking four sandwiches, three bags of chips and two sodas. She was barely five feet tall and surely didn't break one hundred pounds on the scale, so seeing her with that much food was comical. She sat down by Finn and set about wrapping up her sandwiches, just like Tony and I had done. We were naturals at this homeless thing ... a depressing thought.

Jared spoke up first. "So Becky, what'd they say?"

We all stopped chatting and listened for her answer.

"I can't say. They said we can't tell each other until it's all over, or it could compromise the results." She shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, guys. I need the money, so I'm just going to follow the rules. But don't worry," she said brightly, "you'll find out in a minute anyway." She took a big bite of her turkey sandwich and smiled as she chewed.

Everyone went back to eating and chatting, and eventually it was my turn. I got up after being summoned by Jared, who'd been called in before me by a guy who was not part of Jared's crew. I walked down the hall, entering the last room on the left as instructed. There was a round table with three chairs around it at the end of the room. Two of the chairs were already occupied, one by Mr. Dardennes and one by some lady, also with gray hair and gray eyes. They looked like they could be siblings ... twins even. The chair opposite them was empty, so I took it.

"Hello, Jayne," said Mr. Dardennes. "This is my colleague, Céline."

I nodded at her. "Nice to meet you, Céline." I wanted to ask them if they were related, but I couldn't afford to be rude with five hundred bucks on the line.

"We just have a few questions for you, based on answers you gave on your test."

"Okay, shoot." This was like a job interview. I'd gone on a few of those, the last one being at the local frozen yogurt store. I didn't get the job, so I wasn't sure that my interview skills were up to par.

The woman spoke first. "Please, before we begin, may I see your hands?"

It was a strange request but seemed innocent enough. I held my hands up in front of me, palms facing out.

She stretched her hands across the table towards me. "Please place them in my hands."

Now this seemed a little on the creepy side. What is she going to do? Read my palms?

I slowly lowered my hands down to the table, putting them palm up in her hands.

"Turn them over, please."

Okay, so she isn't going to read my palms. Are we going to play the slap game? I was pretty good at it. It made Tony crazy that I could flip my hand over and slap the back of his hands before he moved them out of the way. He refused to play with me anymore. Somehow I doubted the sophisticated and controlled Céline was going to let me slap her, but if she decided to slap me, I was probably going to let her. Five hundred bucks was five hundred bucks.

Céline nodded at Mr. Dardennes, signaling him to begin the interview.

"Jayne, you said on your test that you do not hear voices in your head, is that correct?"

"Yes, I did say that, and it's true. But honestly, who would say yes to that question?"

"Different people interpret the questions differently, which sometimes results in them answering differently. Surely you have a conscience?"

"Well, of course I have a conscience ... but it's not a separate voice or anything in my head talking to me ... " I stopped for a second to think about that. I did tend to have lots of conversations with myself in my head - but they were with me, not some other voice. Then I thought about Tony. Oopsy. That boy was hearing my voice in his head lately. Did that mean he was crazy? I didn't think so. He'd have to follow my instructions in order to qualify as crazy. Now that was an interesting idea ... bossing Tony around telepathically ...

My thoughts were interrupted by Mr. Dardennes who had a very small smile on his face. Or maybe I was imagining that, because suddenly he looked very serious again. "Have you ever physically injured another person?"

Dammit. Did my mother's boyfriend count?  He'd totally deserved it. Other than him, I couldn't remember ever hitting anyone. Before I could decide whether to hedge my answer, Céline spoke up.

"Include all instances. Do not make judgments about motivations or whether it would be considered right or wrong from a moral standpoint."

Shiiiiit. Is this woman reading my mind now too? I was going to have to figure out how to keep my thoughts more private real soon. Tony being in there was bad enough.

"I did physically hurt someone once, but he totally deserved it and gave me no choice ... and I'm not interested in giving you any details, so if you need them to qualify me for this test, then I'm outta here."

I started pulling my hands away from Céline's grasp, but she closed her fingers and held on. She had a surprisingly strong grip for such an old lady. I guess I assumed she was old because of the gray hair, but her face didn't have any lines on it like it should have ... I mean, for the color of her hair, anyway.

"No, we don't need details; your explanation will suffice," said Mr. Dardennes. "Let's continue. Do you know the ancestry of your great-grandparents or great-great grandparents? Or even further back than that?"

This one was easy. "My mother's family is from Ireland and my father's family is of mixed European heritage." I'd heard my mom say that often enough. She had dark hair and dark eyes, so whenever she said she was pure Irish, I'd make fun of her, saying it wasn't possible since she didn't have red hair or freckles. She claimed she was 'black Irish', whatever that meant.

"What is your mother's maiden name?"

I was wondering if I should tell them, since I was trying to remain somewhat anonymous. But after thinking about it for a few seconds, I figured it wouldn't matter since my mom never used that name anyway. Even after the divorce she kept using Sparks.

"Blackthorn is my mom's maiden name."

My two interviewers exchanged a look. It was a super cool last name, I had to admit. When I got older I was going to legally change my name from Sparks to my mother's maiden name. Jayne Blackthorn. It has a cool ring.

Céline continued with the questioning. "When asked what the weather was like outside, you said you didn't know; was that a truthful answer?"

"Yyyeesssss ... ," I said, kind of sure of myself, kind of not.

"You are hesitant in your answer ... why?"

"Well, because it's Miami, so it's probably sunny or rainy, but ... "

"But?"

"Nothing. I just wasn't sure so I picked the 'I don't know' answer."

"I think there is something you are not telling us," said Céline, no expression on her face.

I was starting to get uncomfortable about having my hands in hers. Mine were sweating, and she was being so serious, it made me nervous.

"It's nothing, really."

"Let's try this," said Céline, looking me straight in the eye.

I couldn't help but stare back. Her look wasn't exactly a challenge, but I felt like I needed to let her know I didn't intimidate easily.

"Close your eyes. Think about the weather outside. What do you see, feel, or smell?"

I closed my eyes as instructed, but asked, "Smell?" Her question was weird, but it reminded me that I had detected a funny odor when looking at that weather question on the test.

"Yes ... do you smell something?"

"Yes, I do, actually; but I can't put my finger on it, exactly. I know I've smelled it before."

"Does it smell like rain?"

"No, definitely not rain."

"Sunshine?"

That was funny. Sunshine didn't smell like anything. I laughed.

"What about snow?"

I started to smile at that one too, but hesitated. Snow ... did it smell like snow? I inhaled again deeply. That's it! Snow! I'd smelled it once when we were in North Carolina. We had taken an RV trip up into the mountains, and when we got near the top of one of the higher peaks, near the border of Tennessee, it had started to snow. I could smell it in the air, and it was amazing.

As crazy as it sounded, I answered her question truthfully. "Yes, I smell snow. I'm not sure where it's coming from, but when I was in the mountains once, when it snowed, this is what it smelled like."

Céline squeezed my hands and then let them go. "I'm done here."

I couldn't tell from her dismissal if I'd answered correctly or confirmed for them that I was a complete moron.

"I have one more question for you," said Mr. Dardennes.

"Alright."

"When the test asked you what superhero you wanted to be ... " He hesitated, as if he weren't sure where to go from here.

"Yes ... ?" It was getting a little uncomfortable, him sitting there saying nothing now, and both of them just staring at me. Am I supposed to say something? ... What?

"Your answer was a bit ... unconventional," he finally said.

I shrugged my shoulders. "That's me ... unconventional, I mean."

"Was there any particular reason you chose that ... person?"

"No. I guess it was the one thing I felt like I could identify with the most."

Both Céline and Mr. Dardennes had the same expression on their faces. Confusion? Contemplation? I wasn't sure what it was exactly.

Céline apparently wasn't done anymore. "In what way?"

"In what way do I identify with her, you mean?"

"Yes."

"I don't know ... she's just the most awesomely powerful I guess." I shrugged my shoulders. "It wasn't the easiest question to answer, you know. I'm not a big comics fan and most superheroes are very limited to just one thing. And they wear stupid outfits. I guess I like her because she doesn't have those limits."

"Interesting." Céline and Mr. Dardennes exchanged a silent look. I wouldn't have been surprised to find out they were telepathic. Something about the way they looked and the way they acted seemed very foreign. They were probably French. They both had the same accent.

Mr. Dardennes stood, followed by Céline. "Thank you, Jayne, for your frank answers and cooperation. Could you please go back to the room and tell Samantha that it's her turn?"

I stood to go out. "When will we find out if we're accepted?"

Mr. Dardennes walked me to the door. "We will post a list at the front desk of the hotel tonight by eight o'clock. The candidates will be expected to be at the hotel tomorrow by eight a.m. to take a shuttle to the airport." He stopped in the doorway, and I stepped out into the hall. "And Jayne, please keep the content of this interview confidential. We don't want your answers or advance notice of our questions to taint the other candidates' responses."

"Okay, I won't. See you later, I guess ... thanks."

I went back to the meeting room and told Samantha it was her turn. Spike flashed me a smile as I walked by to sit with Tony, making me feel all warm inside. It was ridiculous how he could affect me like that. I shook it off. I couldn't be all lovesick when I needed to focus on getting through this physical test, or whatever it was. I was never the best rope climber in gym class ... or the best monkeybar climber ... or the best runner. The list went on and on.

"What'd they ask you?" Tony whispered, his eyes darting around to the others. He was about as sneaky as an elephant in a china shop.

"Wait your turn, nosey parker. You'll find out soon enough. I'm not going to blow this five hundred bucks by telling you, if I haven't already with my stupid answers."

Tony immediately dropped the subject, and we speculated about the study itself instead. Samantha came back a few minutes later and then Spike went in. Eventually, Tony had his turn and everyone else got theirs too, so Mr. Dardennes joined us back in the meeting room. It was almost four o'clock.

"Thank you all for coming. We will post a list of the accepted candidates at the front desk of the hotel. It will be available by eight o'clock tonight. If your name appears on the list, you will need to be at the front of the hotel at eight in the morning, tomorrow. A shuttle will be waiting to take you to the Miami Executive Airport. If your name is not on the list, there will be an envelope at the front desk for you with fifty dollars inside, as a thank you for your time today. It was nice meeting all of you, and for those of you who are accepted, I will see you tomorrow."

He left the room as we digested his speech.

"Well, that was interesting," said Becky, coming over to stand by our table, along with the others of Jared's crew.

"Are we allowed to talk 'bout the interviews now?" asked Finn.

"Not now, let's get outta here first," said Jared. He seemed uncomfortable. He looked over at Tony and me. "You guys are welcome to join us."

I looked at Tony and he shrugged, nodding his head. We didn't have anything else to do - might as well go and talk to them about what happened in their interviews. I was curious to see which superheroes they had chosen. I was pretty sure I had answered that one wrong.

We left the meeting room and went towards the front of the hotel, Jared leading the way. He came to a complete stop as he rounded the corner that was just before the glass exterior doors. Samantha was following so close on his heels that she ended up bumping into him. Chase was right behind them, but jumped to the side, missing the pile-up. Tony and I hadn't reached the corner yet, but we couldn't miss the surprise in the voices of those who were there.

"What the hell?" said Jared, obviously surprised about something.

"Is that ... ?" said Samantha, unable to get the rest of her sentence out.

"Wow, I never would have guessed that in a million years!" said Becky, obviously delighted.

Chase just shook his head, saying nothing.

"What? What's up?" said Spike, walking up from the back of our group with Finn. "What's the big deal?"

"Come see for yourself," said Jared, with a deliberately neutral tone.

We all walked around the group at the corner so we could see the front doors too. None of us were expecting to see what was there.

Snow. Snow all over the sidewalks and the bushes ... even in the palm trees.

Chapter Eight

I felt the blood rushing to my face. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel the pulsing in my neck. How was this even possible? How could it be snowing in Spring in Miami, Florida? How could it be snowing in Miami at all, for that matter?

"Anyone mark '(c), snowing' on their test?" asked Jared, looking around.

Everyone but me was shaking their heads. I looked down at the floor, freaking out about the interview, remembering how they were pushing me to answer that weather question with the truth instead of copping out and choosing '(d), I don't know'.

Tony looked at me, nudging me with his elbow. He was probably using that freaky mind-meld thing on me again. I nudged him back, not anxious to have all their eyes on me right now.

I looked up and saw Jared staring at me. He didn't say anything, though; he just turned and went to the front desk, returning in less than a minute to fill us in. "Apparently, some weird-ass storm just went through here, dropping a butt-load of hale and snow all over the city. As you can see, it's mostly gone now. Temperature is going back up. The snow will be gone in less than an hour, probably. It caused a huge accident on I-95." Jared turned, walking towards the doors again. "Come on, let's go."

We followed him out in twos, walking several blocks back to the warehouse district. The snow was melting, making it look as if a big rainstorm had just hit. Jared took a more roudabout route than I would have taken, but he probably had his reasons. Maybe he was worried about the drug dealer pimp guys seeing us and following. I couldn't figure out why they'd be interested in us, though; we certainly didn't look like we had any money. Beating us up would be a waste of energy, but then again, maybe money wasn't their inspiration.

Once back at the warehouse, we discussed our various interviews and test answers. When they asked me which superhero I picked, I lied and said Wonderwoman. Everyone else had picked a comic book hero, so I felt kinda stupid about the one I chose. That must be why Mr. Dardennes and Céline asked me about it. No one else was asked about the superhero question, but all of them were asked about the weather. No one but me picked snow. I also didn't cop to that at first either, but Jared singled me out, right in front of everyone.

"Jayne, you didn't pick answer 'd', did you?"

I shrugged. What did it matter which one I chose?

"Which one did you pick?"

I sighed. He wasn't going to let it drop. "I picked 'snowing', okay? I don't see what the big deal is."

Everyone stopped chatting to stare at me. Even Tony.

"You picked snowing?" asked Samantha, angrily. "How could you possibly have known it was snowing? Did you sneak out and see before the interview?" She looked around at everyone. "Did you guys see her go out?"

That bitch was really pissing me off. Why would my choice on the test make her mad? What was her problem anyway? I stood up, not knowing exactly what I was going to do, but I wasn't going to take her shit sitting down.

"Ease up, Sam," said Jared. To me he said, "Seriously, though ... I'm curious. I know you didn't leave the room or cheat. Why did you pick snow?"

Everyone was waiting quietly for my answer. No one else seemed mad about it, so I felt a little better. I decided to just tell them the truth. It really wasn't a big deal.

"I don't know. I guess I kind of smelled it or something."

"Pfft. She smelled it. Right." Samantha stalked off, yanking the door open and storming outside.

Spike nodded his head, a look of respect on his face. "She's in tune with the environment. Cool."

Becky laughed. "You're funny, Spike."

"No, I'm serious; don't you guys get it?" He looked around the room, checking each of our faces. All he got were blank looks in return. Chase looked a little pensive, but the rest of us? Lost.

"All the questions they asked, all the things they said in the interviews ... seems to me they were trying to figure out, like, whether we had any special psychic powers or whatever. I'm thinkin' this thing is more like a psychology test. Like X-Men, but minus the finger knives and freeze rays."

"I agree," said Chase, the man of very few words.

"So, what's your power then, Spike?" asked Finn, laughing at him.

"I dunno ... probably something really good, though." He smiled back.

As far as I was concerned, his superpower was that heart-stopping smile. I looked at Tony. "What do you think, Tones?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, I guess he could be right. Maybe they're one of those companies that tries to see if telepathy and stuff like that is real."

"Yeah, but why would they need to do a physical fitness test?" asked Finn.

He was right; that didn't really fit the hypothesis.

"Duh, to see if you can, you know, do psychic things out in the environment." Spike was obviously proud of himself, flashing his Spike smile at everyone.

I felt a little bit of my heart melt. Man, I had it bad for that smile. I wondered if his personality was worth getting to know, or if I should just content myself with admiring his smile and fantasizing about what he was really like. So often the reality didn't live up to my fantasies. It was too depressing to even think about right now.

"Maybe they're going to use the stress of physical activity to heighten our senses," suggested Jared.

Everyone thought about that for a second. It sounded a little spooky, actually. I was more excited about the prospect of climbing a rope ladder and crawling under barbed wire or something like that.

"Maybe it'll just be a team building activity, an obstacle course thing," I said. A girl can dream.

"You know, Jayne, you bring up a good point. What if this is an obstacle course or group exercise of sorts? Usually the successful groups learn quickly to work together as a team." Jared looked over at Becky. "Becky, will you go get Sam and bring her in here? We need to talk strategy."

Sam and Becky returned, and we all sat down on the couch, chairs, and surrounding floor. At this point, Tony and I had thrown our lot in with the others. We were still free agents; but assuming we would be going through some sort of strategic fitness test, it made sense to work together.

Tony asked the obvious question I probably should have thought of but hadn't. "What if some of us aren't invited back?"

"We'll just work on the assumption that we will, and go from there," said Jared.

"What if working together causes us to not be able to complete the test?" I asked. It wasn't that I was against teamwork, but if it were them or Tony and me, I would be Team Tony and Jayne all the way.

"For now, we might as well assume it's not a competition against each other. That wouldn't be fair anyway. Chase would kick all our asses."

Everyone looked at Chase. He just shrugged his shoulders, looking away. He was pretty big with those broad shoulders and thick arms - the strong, silent type. I wondered what was going on inside that big head of his. He didn't say much, but when he did, it was obvious he had been thinking pretty hard about it. He was a mystery. I wondered how he'd done during the interview. It was hard to be a silent interviewee. Maybe he wouldn't be called back because he refused to speak.

***

We spent the next few hours going over strategy and listening to Spike play the guitar and sing. I've been told I have a pretty good voice, so I joined in with the others, singing the words to songs I knew. After listening to Spike do his thing, I couldn't figure out why he wasn't a rock star standing on a stage in an arena somewhere. He was really talented and sexy as hell, plus he was super nice. But he looked dangerous ... perfect rock star material. Another mystery about Jared's crew. It was like everyone here had a secret. Even Tony and I.

We all had extra sandwiches from our lunch meeting, so we had a dinner of subs and chips. The warm sodas went quickly, so Tony busted out his cache of juice boxes and shared with everyone, using up the last of them.

"Hopefully, we'll each have five hundred dollars in a few days and I can buy some more," he said.

I laughed because the last thing I'd buy if I had five hundred bucks right now would be a juice box.

It was nearly eight o'clock, so we left the warehouse to walk back to the hotel. Instead of all of us going in and rushing the reception desk, Jared and I went in, leaving everyone else outside. Sam seemed a little pissed about being left behind, but I wasn't too worried about it. She gave Tony something to stare at while I was gone.

Jared asked for the list and they handed it over to him. He put it in front of us so we could read the names. It was just first names, alphabetically. He read them quietly, under his breath. "Becky, Chase, Finn, Jared, Jayne, Spike, Tony ... shit. Sam's not on here. She's gonna be pissed."

"Neither are those other older people either."

He ran his hands through his hair. "I don't feel right about leaving her behind."

"What are you going to do? Not go? It's only for a few days, she'll be fine. I'm sure she wouldn't be mad at you - she knows it's a lot of money. Plus, that means she has fifty bucks here, so it's not like she didn't get anything at all out of the deal."

"I don't know. I'll have to talk to her."

He walked back outside, list in hand. I followed him a few paces back. I didn't want my face to be the first thing Samantha saw when we came out. I tried not to look as happy as I felt. She'd probably take it personally.

Everyone gathered around. Jared waited for me to catch up and handed me the list so I could share it with everyone. He walked over to Samantha, taking her by the arm and pulling her away from the others.

"So, who's on it?"

I held it out for them to see. "All of us but Samantha."

"Oh, bummer!" said Becky.

It was the first time I'd seen a frown on her face.

Spike looked over at Jared and then at me. "What's Jared saying to her?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Probably trying to figure out if he's going to go without her or not."

We walked slowly back to the warehouse. Jared and Samantha went back into the hotel briefly and then came out, trailing a half-block behind us. I couldn't hear or see her reaction, but I knew it wasn't going to be good.

We arrived at the metal door leading to our temporary home, and everyone but Jared and Samantha went inside. Tony and I decided to go to bed early. I fell asleep before Jared came back in, wondering if he was coming with us, and where this mystery test would be held.

Chapter Nine

Tony and I arrived at the hotel five minutes before eight. We didn't stick around the warehouse to see Samantha's goodbye. We figured it would be like rubbing salt in the wound for her, and as much as she'd been a bitch to me, neither Tony nor I wanted to make her more upset.

A shuttle pulled up in the front valet area with a sign in the window that said 'One Eleven Group'.

"That's us," I said.

Tony stood still for a second, concern on his face. "Aren't we going to wait for the others?"

"Nope. They'll be here, and if they aren't, that's their problem." I appreciated their whole 'we are family' thing, but I couldn't let that stop me from getting my five hundred bucks. I kept thinking about that hard concrete floor that had been my bed for two nights now. I needed last night to be the last night of that back-aching nonsense.

Tony frowned but followed me to the van. As we took the front row seats, the others came walking across the parking lot. Samantha wasn't with them, but Jared was, and I was happy to see that he'd decided to come.

"Hi, guys!" said Becky, all smiles, climbing into the shuttle.

"What's up?" asked Finn as he got in.

Chase said nothing, choosing a seat in the back row.

Spike was next, flashing me a smile and then sitting down next to me. "Hey, girl, what's up?"

Calm yourself, breathe. "Not much. No guitar?"

"Nah. I wasn't sure what the rules were on bringing music, so I left it hidden in the warehouse."

Jared was the last one in. He didn't say anything, just nodded at Tony and me, choosing a seat in the back next to Chase. I was glad he came. His crew functioned better with him around, and if this test required teamwork, they were going to need his leadership. I could tell, though, that he was bummed, which I could understand. If Tony hadn't been accepted I would have been in the same predicament. I wasn't sure if I would have been on the shuttle without him, so I was glad I didn't have to worry about that.

The van delivered us to the Miami Executive Airport, and we all got out. Mr. Dardennes was there to meet us. He walked us through a reception area to the plane that was sitting out on the tarmac.

I'd never been on a small airplane before, so it was pretty cool. But then again, there was also that issue of us dropping out of the sky. I was worried about this heavy machine's ability to stay up in the air. I'd heard about plane crashes in the news, it was usually a small one involved. I sent a small prayer out into the universe for our safety. I felt a gentle breeze on my face, as if it were answering me back. I didn't know why, but that made me feel just a little bit better.

We climbed up the stairs to the jet. As I entered, the first thing that came to my mind was, 'Holy shit, I'm on an episode of Criminal Minds.' The jet was super posh. Cream-colored leather seats in groups of four, with real wood tables in between, filled the spacious interior. The plush carpeting underfoot make our steps soundless, muffling the noises of our boarding. I was willing to bet that those chairs could recline all the way. This is about as far from coach class as I was ever going to get. I grabbed Tony's wrist and squeezed.

"Wow, this is nice," he said, sounding a little in awe. "This One Eleven Group must have a lot of money to be able to afford to fly this thing."

Similar comments came from the others as they entered. We all slowly took our seats. It kinda felt like a dream, the way we were being whisked away from the streets of Miami in a chartered executive jet to ... to ... I had no idea where. I settled into my seat, trying to keep the feelings of uncertainty at bay. I calmed myself by thinking that no one would go to all this trouble and expense just to kidnap a group of homeless teens. Whatever this study was, it must be pretty valuable.

Mr. Dardennes' buff assistant was the last person onboard, entering immediately behind Mr. Dardennes who was standing in the open cockpit door, speaking to pilots I couldn't see. I turned around in my seat as far as I could, but the secretary guy was blocking my view. He stood in the entrance as the stairs were taken away and the door closed. I couldn't see what he was doing exactly, but it sounded like he was securing the big locks. Apparently, he's not only a secretary, he's a flight attendant, too. He also looked like he'd be a pretty good bodyguard, now that I thought about it. Handy guy to have around.

The plane rolled away from the hangars. I could hear the jet engines whining higher as they powered up, moving the jet forward. The plane bounced a little as it went over seams in the pavement, making me feel like I was riding across a patchwork cloud.

Mr. Dardennes spoke while walking towards the back of the plane. "Hello, everyone, and thank you for coming." He stopped at the last chair, turning to look at us. "We are very excited about the testing that will be conducted over the next three days. We will be arriving at our destination in no time at all. Mr. Nischa will be with you in just a moment with refreshments. I will answer all of your questions when we touch down, and the test will begin soon after landing." He turned and walked into a room at the back of the plane, closing the door behind him.

I leaned over and whispered in Tony's ear, "Was that the bathroom he just went into?" I giggled. It struck me as funny that someone would do a welcome speech and then make a grand exit into a toilet.

"No, I think it's an office," Tony whispered back. "The bathroom's up front." He twisted around and pointed to a door we had walked by when we came in.

"Ahhhh." I was so friggin' sophisticated sometimes I couldn't stand myself.

Spike raised his eyebrows at me a couple times. "Nice, eh?" He was sitting across from Tony and diagonal to me.

I smiled back. "Yeah, not bad." Especially since I was going to be looking at Spike for the entire trip.

Chase was running his hands back and forth on the leather armrests, of course not saying anything.

"I could get used to this," said Finn, grinning from across the aisle.

Becky was sitting next to him, smiling her face off - nothing unusual there.

Jared was sitting across the aisle from me, an arm's length away, next to Chase. He looked thoughtful. He'd been really quiet ever since we'd left the warehouse and Samantha behind. He wasn't the most talkative guy anyway, but this was too much. When Jared was acting weird, it made everything else feel a little off. Maybe in another time and place, he could have been a pretty influential leader. He had some sort of extra special charisma - like Martin Luther King or Bugs Bunny or something.

My thoughts were interrupted by the guy we now knew as Mr. Nischa, the bodyguard/secretary/flight attendant. He was walking down the center aisle, carrying a tray of amber-colored drinks - one for each of us, plus one extra. After we each took one of the tiny shot glasses - which were heavy crystal and not plastic - he took the last one and stood in front of us, holding it up and clearing his throat.

He spoke in a scratchy voice. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I am Mr. Nischa. Congratulations on being selected for this very important study. In my country, we celebrate honors with a toast and a special drink. It is mildly alcoholic, but do not worry, it will not affect you in that way. It is traditional to say 'Skal' and then drink it in one, quick swallow." He raised his glass in a toast, waiting for us to do the same.

I looked around and saw everyone complying, so I did the same ... but hesitantly. Why was this guy all of a sudden being so friendly? Why wasn't Mr. Dardennes doing the toast with us? Alarm bells were ringing faintly in the back of my mind. Tony looked sideways at me from the neighboring seat, probably picking up on my nervous vibe. He elbowed me gently, telling me to settle down and drink up.

Mr. Nischa gestured his drink towards us. "Skal!" he said, and then quickly put the shot glass to his lips and threw it back, drinking the deep-amber liquid in one gulp.

Everyone else around me was responding in kind. I lifted my glass and said a weak 'Skal' along with the rest of them. They were decidedly more enthusiastic than I was about the whole thing. In my peripheral vision I saw glasses being tipped back and then set back down on tables. My hand was frozen in place, the glass not quite touching my lips yet.

Tony's hand whacked me on the arm. "Ouch, Tones, watch it!" I turned to give him my bitchy look, but what I saw shocked me out of bitch-mode and into scared-shitless-mode, instantaneously. His eyes were shut and his mouth was hanging open; he was out cold. I heard a clank and a crash as someone else's shot glass fell and hit the table. I looked over and realized that everyone but me was unconscious, some of them obviously going into that state before they had even put their glasses down.

I lowered the shot glass away from my face and looked at Mr. Nischa with narrowed eyes. He was standing in place, still in front of the office door, no expression on his face.

"Skal, Miss Jayne," he said, his voice casually menacing.

"Fuck that," was my very firm response. Skal my ass. I put my arm across Tony's chest to keep him from falling forward and set the glass down on the table in front of me. "I don't know what the hell you think you're doing here, but I am not drinking that shit. And you'd better stay the fuck away from me. I don't care how big you are - I'm not going down and neither is Tony." I could actually feel the adrenaline rushing into my bloodstream, and my heart felt like it had jumped into my throat. I had to swallow hard to make it easier to breathe.

Mr. Nischa reached his arm up and tapped on the door behind him with his knuckle.

Mr. Dardennes stuck his head out. "Yes, Ivar?"

Mr. Nischa said nothing - just gestured at me with a nod of his head.

Mr. Dardennes looked over. "Ah. I see we have a problem." He opened the door the rest of the way and stepped out. "Jayne, you did not participate in the toast with your fellow passengers ... how unfortunate. We really do need you to drink what's in your glass before we go too much farther into our little trip."

I picked up the glass and dumped the contents on the nice, cream-colored carpet. "Whoops, I spilled it. Bummer. Guess I'll have to sit this one out." I figured I might as well go full-on rebel with this. Drugging test subjects never meant anything good, so I knew I was already pretty much dead or sold into slavery anyway ... might as well go down fighting. I unbuckled my seatbelt as casually as I could. I needed to be able to get up and kick some balls if necessary. I wondered if it was a man or woman flying this luxurious kidnapping mobile. If the pilot had testicles, I had a much better chance of getting the hell out of there alive.

Mr. Dardennes smiled - a kind of tired smile. "Jayne, I know how this must look to you, but we find these measures necessary to protect the confidentiality of our operations. All will become clear to you in due time. I ask that you just trust me in the meantime, and take a drink as Mr. Nischa has asked."

I looked at him incredulously. This guy was obviously off his rocker.

"You know, you really had me fooled in the meeting and interview; I had no idea you were a completely insane sex slave trafficker. You can tell your pilot to turn this plane around and go back to Miami because I'm not drinking that poison and I will never trust you - you can bet your sweet ass on that."

Tony began snoring softly next to me.

"The drink is a sedative so you will sleep until we land. It will not harm you at all. The flight is quite long. You will be much happier to sleep through it, I assure you."

"Yeah, um, no thanks. Just take me back to Miami. I'm not interested in your test anymore."

Mr. Dardennes sighed. "Ivar, bring her another drink. Make sure she drinks it, but don't injure her." He went back into his office and closed the door.

I shook my head. Boy, does that guy have a lot of nerve. And Ivar Nischa was gonna be seriously sorry if he even thought about trying that shit on me.

Ivar walked past me, back towards the cockpit. I feverishly looked around, searching for some kind of weapon to use. None of us had brought anything but changes of clothes in our backpacks - I'd watched everyone pack. Tony had left his gun at the warehouse up in the rafters. I reached down and grabbed a shard of Jared's broken shot glass. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

Ivar returned with a crystal carafe of the amber liquid and another little glass. He sat down in the empty seat across from me and set the carafe on the table between us. "You need to take the drink, Miss Jayne." He had no expression on his face and no anger in his voice. Just certainty.

"You need to get the fuck away from me before I make you sorry you ever lived." I lifted my eyebrows for emphasis, my false bravado nearly even fooling me. I was trying like hell to keep the shaking out of my voice. I couldn't let him see me sweat.

"This will be much better for you if you just comply. I do not want you to be hurt. You are very small and I am very big. You will either drink it or I will inject it into you. Come ... let us be adult about this."

"Adult? Adult? You want me to be adult? How about this: adults don't drug children and kidnap them, at least not high-functioning, sane ones. Why don't you be the adult here, and I'll just be the kid."

Ivar reached up and took the glass stopper out of the carafe. He lifted it by its neck, pouring out a shot. "Last chance to do this the easy way," he said quietly, almost sadly, sliding the drink towards me to let it rest a few inches from the edge nearest me.

"Go fuck yourself." I quickly swiped my hand across the table, sending the glass and its contents flying onto the carpeted aisle. A little bit splashed onto Jared, but I knew he wouldn't mind.

Ivar jumped up from his seat so fast, I didn't even see it coming. I didn't even have a chance to cut him with my weapon. The last thing I saw was his sad but determined face, less than an inch away from mine, the smell of sweet alcohol on his breath. The last thing I felt was a stinging sensation in my arm.

"You bastard ... you stuck me ... "

And then everything went black.

Chapter Ten

I could hear voices - Tony's and Spike's. Then I felt someone squeezing my hand.

"Wake up, Jayne, come on." Tony sounded worried. I wanted to squeeze his hand back, but my body was not obeying my mental commands at the moment.

Someone grabbed my foot and shook it gently. "Hey, Jayne, it's me, Spike. Come on, you're gonna miss all the fun, wake up."

Fun? Was he nuts? Since when did sexual slavery sound like fun? The fog was clearing from my brain. I remembered seeing Ivar's face in mine and a sharp, stabbing pain in my arm. Shit. He'd gotten the jump on me. He was gonna pay, too, since I now realized that I was still alive. Bastard should have killed me when he had the chance.

When my eyes were finally able to open about a minute later, I looked around me, but all I could see was Tony's face, worry etched in the lines above his eyebrows.

"She's awake! Hey, Jayne, I'm so glad you're back. You feel okay?"

I turned my head and saw the crew sitting at and standing around a wood table in the middle of a big room. I was lying on a couch in what looked like a log cabin ski lodge. There was even a big fireplace at the end of the room, not far from me. There was no fire in it now, though - probably a good thing since unless I'd gone into some sort of seven-month-long coma or had changed hemispheres, it was too hot outside.

I sat up slowly, waiting for the dizziness to stop. Whatever they'd stuck me with had really kicked my ass. I didn't remember a thing after my exchange with Ivar, not even any dreams. And speaking of Ivar ... "Where is that motherfucker, so I can kick his ass?"

"Which motherfucker would you be referring to?" asked Jared, who had joined Spike at the foot of the couch.

"Ivar first ... then Dardennes."

Spike smiled, but I wasn't in the mood for his beauty, which showed how pissed I was.

"They're not here," said Tony.

"Where is 'here', anyway?" I asked, sitting up and looking around.

"We have no idea. We're in some sort of lodge in the forest. Chase and Finn went outside and looked around a bit, but didn't see anything or anyone."

The dizziness had subsided, so I stood up. Everyone seemed to be waiting for me to speak. "So what the hell happened? Last thing I remember is seeing all of you pass out around me and then getting into it with Ivar, before he stuck me in the arm with some needle."

Everyone looked at Jared for an explanation. "Well, the last thing any of us remember is saying 'Skal'. We all woke up here about a half hour ago. Whatever Ivar got you with must have been stronger than what we drank."

"So, what's the theory? Are we sex slaves now, or what?" I wasn't kidding but everyone laughed anyway.

"Yep, she's back," said Tony, giving me a quick hug. "I was so worried about you, Jayne. You were just so out of it."

"Yeah, well, see what happens to you after you're hit with an elephant tranquilizer ... hey, does anyone know what time it is?"

"No, none of us have our watches or cell phones anymore," said Finn, "but it looks like it's afternoon, if the sun's in the right place."

"Afternoon? What the hell? That means we were on that damn plane and passed out for ... how many hours?"

"There's no way of knowing, since we don't know what time zone we're in right now," said Jared.

I shook my head, not wanting to believe what the facts were telling me. "Where in the hell are we? And am I the only one who's pissed that we've been kidnapped?"

The front door of the lodge opened and Dardennes stepped through, followed by Ivar and Céline.

I saw red. Tony tried to grab my arm, but I slipped through. Spike and Jared noticed the look on my face and both moved to block me. Spike grabbed me in a semi-hug, gripping me across the shoulders with one arm while putting his opposite hand on my shoulder that was under his armpit. "Jayne ... "

I glared at him, angry as hell that he'd stopped me. "I hope you wore a cup today." I wasn't kidding. Anyone with balls was liable to get hurt with the mood I was in. I wasn't sure how I was going to handle Céline ... maybe punch her in the boobs until she begged for mercy.

Spike smiled in response, effectively taking some of the fight out of me.

Dammit. Why does he have to do that?

"Just wait and let's hear what they have to say before you take 'em all down, okay?"

I looked over at the rest of the crew. Everyone was standing stock still, frozen in place. I'd apparently surprised them with my G.I. Jayne act. I caught Chase's eye and he winked. He winked! Now I knew he had my back; and he was pretty big too, so that made me feel a tiny bit better. I looked over at Jared, but he was looking at Dardennes and Dardennes was looking back at him. I saw Dardennes give him a very slight nod.

What the hell was that all about? I looked at Spike, but he was still staring at me, so he missed it. No one else said anything - everyone was waiting for me, I guess.

"Well, shit, people... are you just going to stand there while our captors come waltzing in to give us another shot of elephant tranquilizer?"

Spike released me, able to tell somehow that I was willing to wait a few minutes before unleashing my wrath on them. He stayed close, though, ready to give me another tough-love hug if necessary. Man, I so wanted our first physical contact to include kissing. Now he's gone and ruined it. Guys are all jerks.  I glowered at him.

He grinned back at me, flashing those damn fangs again.

Argh.  He had to know what that was doing to me. There was no other explanation for that much smiling.

I felt Tony come up on my other side and take my hand in his.

I laced our fingers together, glad for his support. I think I was almost ready to fight to protect him, more than myself. It was my fault he was here in the first place. It was his chivalry awakened by my pitiful family problems that had made us runaways. "I'm so sorry I got you into this, Tones," I whispered.

"You didn't get me into anything, Jayne," he whispered back. "We're a team, we stick together. Just don't get yourself knocked out again."

Dardennes cleared his throat.

I couldn't wait to hear what he was going to say - probably a bunch of lies.

"Hello, everyone, thank you again for being here. I'm sorry if our methods for keeping our operation confidential were upsetting to you," he gave me a small bow, which made me want to pound him all over again. "But I assure you, it was necessary. All will become clear to you, eventually. But for now, we must commence the test, as we are running out of daylight. Please follow us outside." He and the other two turned, leaving the lodge through the front door.

I looked around at everyone, noticing Becky moving towards the door. I lost my cool again. "Oh, so we're just going to do whatever they say now, is that it? They say jump, we ask, how high?"

Becky shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. What else are we going to do? We have no idea where we are ... ," she finished lamely, looking to Finn for help.

"Them people are our only way outta here that I can see. Chase and I checked the place out. We're out here in the middle of bumfuck Egypt," said Finn.

I looked over at Chase. He shrugged his shoulders and walked towards the front door, which was apparently his way of saying he was going to go see what they had to say. Finn and Becky followed him out.

Jared's eyes were aimed at the floor when I glanced over at him, but he quickly looked up and went to the front door too, not once even acknowledging me. I decided right then and there that there was something fishy going on with him; he was acting very strange. Maybe no one else had seen his little exchange with Dardennes, but I had.

Only Spike and Tony where left with me, and Spike made his move towards the door as it swung shut behind Jared.

"Et tu, Spike?" This was the surest sign I was stressed; now I was quoting from my Lit teacher's favorite Shakespearean tragedy.

He shrugged, his hand on the doorhandle. "Might as well. Beats sitting in here waiting for something to happen."

"Maybe ... maybe not." I turned to Tony. "So, what do we do? Go out there and face the music, or arm up and wait for them to storm the castle?"

Tony sighed. "I appreciate your concern, Jayne, especially since you were basically attacked while we all slept. But I think they're right; we're not going to get anywhere staying in here. At least out there maybe we'll get an explanation, or an opportunity to run away. In here, we're sitting ducks."

"Fine. Let's go, then. Just promise me you'll be ready to kick some serious ass."

"I promise. I'm ready - as ready as I'm going to be, I guess."

We followed Spike out the door, joining the others already standing in front of the lodge.

Chapter Eleven

Dardennes, Céline, and Ivar were joined by another one of their group. My parents always told me not to stare at people who look different than me, and for the most part I was able to control myself; but this time ... not so much. He was a dwarf. And I'd never seen an armed commando dwarf before, so it totally wasn't my fault that I couldn't look away.

He stood about three and a half feet high, wearing camouflage clothes and combat boots. He even had a black bandana tied around his oversized head, and a bowie knife strapped to his tiny thigh. It was only Tony's suddenly very strong grip on my hand that kept me from laughing out loud. I was totally on the edge right now - anything could have set me off; but seriously, no one could blame me for this one.

"This is Niles, your field contact. He will instruct you on the test conditions and supply your provisions."

Céline stepped forward. "We realize that you have arrived here under stressful conditions - some of you more stressful than others." She looked at me, and I gave her my best screw you look in return. "Be that as it may, I urge you, we urge you, to put that behind you and do your very best on this test. There is not only money at stake here. Those who complete the challenge, and do so in an exemplary manner, will qualify for additional remuneration."

Additional remuneration? I wasn't sure what the hell remuneration was, but it sounded like more money, and that interested me. Not enough for me to stop being mad, but at least they had my attention now. I looked at Tony, and he nodded his head. We were both willing to listen.

Dardennes was talking again. "The object of this test is to make it through the course to the end."

Obstacle course. I called that one. I looked over at Spike who was already looking at me. He nodded his head in respect.

"There will be four waypoints. At each waypoint, you will indicate your arrival by tying a flag to the waypoint marker. Each of you will have a set of colored flags assigned to you. There is no placing in this test, which means it doesn't matter who comes in first. It only matters that you reach each waypoint and finish the course."

Pfft. Easy as pie.

Tony leaned over and whispered, "What's the catch?"

Exactly what I was thinking.

"This forest is not your typical forest," he continued. "There will be ... obstacles ... in your way; things designed to keep you from reaching your goals. You are permitted to use whatever is at your disposal to ... eliminate or incapacitate those obstacles."

Incapacitate? What kind of obstacles needed to be incapacitated?  That sounded a little too ominous to me. I looked sideways at Tony and saw confusion on his face too. Okay, so I'm not the only one lost here. Chase looked like he always does, totally in control. Spike had a big question mark floating above his head. Finn and Becky were standing side by side, looking nervous, Becky hopping from one foot to the other like a little bird. I looked at Jared and he just stared straight ahead, his expression revealing nothing. Sneaky bastard. He's up to something.

"The rules you are used to, the rules of our day-to-day society, do not apply here. You are very far from home. Consider this place to be ... a rule-free zone. The only rule is: there are no rules." He smiled, coolly.

Now, normally, I was a 'rules are made to be broken' kind of girl, but I was pretty sure he was talking about something more serious than curfews and smoking sections here.

Tony was whispering in my ear again. "Does he mean what I think he means?"

God, I hope not.

"Be mindful that this 'no rules' policy applies across the entire forest. Anyone in the forest will be aware of this rule and will also be following it. Your goal is to survive to the end."

I couldn't keep quiet any longer. "Survive? What is this? Some kind of tacky reality TV show?"

Tony squeezed my hand. I was taking that as his approval.

Céline answered me. "This is all about survival, but it's not a TV show and nothing is being filmed. What happens in the forest, stays in the forest."

That never meant anything good when it was used in Las Vegas, so it gave me a bad feeling to hear it said in relation to a forest I was about to spend the next couple of days in. And I wasn't fooling myself anymore - into this forest I was going ... if not to complete this test, then to find another way out of here. These guys were fucking nutballs, and I knew they weren't going to just let me walk away.

"Does anyone have any questions?" Dardennes looked out over our group, waiting for a response.

Finn raised his hand. "How long do we have to complete the course?"

"As long as you need."

Finn looked as confused as I felt. "Well, what if it takes us a whole week?" he asked.

"It won't," was the mysterious and very unhelpful answer.

Not surprisingly, no one had any more questions. If the answers were going to be this ridiculous, there really wasn't any point.

"Okay, I will now turn you over to Niles. The sun will be going down soon, and he needs to have you outfitted before sunset."

Dardennes and Céline went back to the lodge, stepping inside and closing the door behind them. Ivar stood next to our commando mini-man who was now speaking.

"Follow me to get your provisions and further directions." He turned and disappeared between the trees, Ivar closely behind him.

Jared went first. Tony let go of my hand so we could walk single-file. Behind us were Finn, Becky, Spike, and Chase. I found myself wishing Samantha were here. Her take-no-shit, badass attitude would have made me feel a little bit better being out here with these crazy fucks in no man's land. I'd bet she would have spoken up. They probably would have had to stick her with the tranquilizer needle, too. It was a sad thing, really, this nostalgia I was having for a girl who probably considered me her enemy.

A couple of minutes later, we ended up in a clearing. In the center were a few tables made of huge slabs of sliced tree trunk propped up by thick stumps. The trees around us were so dense they nearly blocked out the remaining daylight. Our feet made no sound on the carpet of needles and long-dead leaves. My feet sprung up with every step, telling me the layers of decomposing forest went very deep. I turned around, realizing that I had already lost my bearings. I had no idea which way the lodge was from here because everything looked the same.

Tony stayed close, not saying anything. The others remained quiet as well, their heads swiveling in all directions, taking in the incredible majesty of the forest around us. I wasn't so angry that I couldn't appreciate this kind of beauty. It was truly breathtaking.

"Everyone please take one pack from the far table."

I looked over and saw that one of the tables was covered in small, camouflage backpacks. Tony went and got two, one for each of us. I stayed where I was, keeping my eye on Niles, commando dwarf. He didn't waste a second looking back at me. He was all business and a little bit scary. I'd bet he knew how to use that knife strapped to his leg.

"Inside each of these sacks you will find waypoint flags, a map of the forest with waypoints indicated, food, water, flint, a small flashlight, and a rescue flare. If you don't know how to use a flint, please raise your hand."

I was glad Becky raised hers. Even though I didn't know how to use one, I didn't want to admit it for some reason. As the seriousness of this situation sank in, the less I wanted to expose any weaknesses I had.

I watched out of the corner of my eye as Ivar demonstrated the flint for her. It seemed easy enough. I noticed I wasn't the only one watching, too. The only ones who didn't seem to care much were Chase and Jared. Maybe Chase was in on whatever Jared had going on. I was going to keep an eye on both of them.

"Step over to the middle table."

I followed Tony to the table in front of Niles. I hadn't paid much attention to it before, but now I sure was - now that I realized it was covered in weapons. Weapons?

"What the hell do we need weapons for?" I asked angrily.

Niles just looked at me, not answering. He had no expression on his face - just like Ivar. Two cold, heartless bastards they were. I had a mind to use one of those weapons on them.

"The biggest will pick first. You ... ," he gestured towards Chase, " ... choose your weapon."

We studied the table. Laid out in nice even rows were a gun, a bowie knife, a compound bow with arrows, a double-bladed axe, a spear, a slingshot with pellets, and a sharpened stick. A sharp stick? What the hell good is a sharp stick? No way am I getting stuck with that shit.

Chase walked over to the table and picked up the gun, shoving it in his bag.

"You ... next."

Jared walked up to the table and took the spear.

"You ... your turn."

Spike stood in front of the table for a few seconds, eventually selecting the slingshot. He turned away and stretched the rubber bands out, pretending to play them like a guitar.

I had to smile at that. At least someone was having fun out here.

Spike caught me staring and smiled back, but even his sexy self couldn't make me happy right now.

"You, freckles ... "

Finn looked pissed, but walked up to the table quickly. He picked up the compound bow and arrows without hesitating. I hoped he knew how to use that thing - I'm afraid I'd shoot my own foot if I had to try to work it.

"You ... " Now it was Tony's turn.

"What do you think?" he asked me quietly.

"I don't know ... axe?"

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking too." He walked up and took the weapon off the table.

"Little girl ... you ... " He was gesturing to Becky.

"Hey, wait a minute! I'm bigger than her!" I was pissed. I knew what was going on here. I was being punished for giving Ivar a hard time. The big oaf looked at me, and I could have sworn he smiled. It might not have reached his mouth, but it was definitely in his eyes. Bastard.

"You can go ahead, Jayne, I don't mind."

Damn her for being so nice.  "No, Becky, you go. I don't give a shit which weapon I have."

Becky's no dummy; she walked up to the table and took the knife.

That left me with the sharp stick. Yay, me. Now I'd be able to use my mom's favorite saying - That's better than a sharp stick in the eye! - and have a prop too. I walked up to the table and took the stick. I tapped it in the air in Ivar's direction; then I kissed the tip of it, keeping my eyes on him. Asshole. A little piece of me wished I were going to see him in the forest later. Of course, I'd have to sneak up on him since he was three times my size. And I'd have to borrow Tony's axe and whack Ivar with the flat side of it on his head, since I really couldn't see myself stabbing him with my stick or actually chopping any of his body parts off ... but still ...

"Your instructions are simple. You are to leave this clearing and head to waypoint number one. Once there, you tie your flag to the waypoint itself. Then you head to waypoint two and repeat the process. Continue until you reach the fourth and last waypoint. Once you have tied your flag there, follow the instructions that will be provided to proceed to the debriefing. Are there any questions?"

It didn't matter if we had any, because he didn't wait. "If, at any point in the test you decide to surrender, light your flare. Someone will come and take you back to the lodge. For each waypoint you have reached and tied a flag to, you will receive one hundred and twenty-five dollars. If you have not yet reached any waypoints when you surrender, you will receive only fifty dollars. Any questions?"

He continued once again without waiting. "There is no way to cheat during this test. In fact, there is no such thing as cheating on this test. Anything goes. Do whatever it takes to get to the waypoints. There are no rules here ... there are no laws. Not even the laws you remember from home. Do you understand?"

I looked around at everyone's faces in the clearing. It was getting darker and it was harder to see them. Finn, Spike, and Becky were nodding. Chase and Jared had no reaction.

Tony raised his hand.

"What?!" asked the impatient dwarf.

"Um, I just want to be sure I understand ... when you say 'no laws' do you mean, like no laws, like, at all?"

Niles sighed loudly, obviously frustrated with the apparently incapable idiots in front of him. "No laws. I can't be any clearer than that."

"Okay, so if Jared wants to throw his spear through Chase's head, that's okay with you guys?" I asked, flippantly. This was totally stupid. They had to specify what they meant by 'no laws'. They couldn't just leave it out there for us to figure out.

"That's exactly what I mean. Thank you, Jayne, for that excellent clarification."

I choked, having swallowed some drool down the wrong tube. Tony had to whack me on the back a few times to get me breathing again.

I heard Becky squeak in alarm.

Finn let out a, "What in the sam hill?!"

Chase just shook his head slowly from side to side.

Jared looked down at the ground.

Tony grabbed my upper arm and squeezed like hell.

"Ouch, Tones, lemme go!"

"Oh, shoot, sorry. But holy crap, Jayne! I think they expect us to kill people out here!"

"Don't worry about it," I muttered. It wasn't every day people were let loose in a forest of homicidal maniacs. Something was going to fix this. Something had to happen. This was too fucked up to be real. I refused to panic over something this outer-limits messed up. In fact, it was highly possible I was just having a really bad trip from the drug they injected me with. Of course, I had just felt Tony pinching my arm. Dammit.

"It's seven o'clock. I suggest you get started. Nightfall comes quickly here and the forest is very dark. You have enough food in your packs for two nights if you're careful. Good luck. I'll see you at the flare or waypoint four, whichever comes first." He grinned then, and it was very disturbing. He looked almost happy about setting us loose in this lawless land - me with a stupid sharpened stick to protect myself.

Niles and Ivar walked away, leaving us alone in the clearing.

"Hey! Wait a minute! You can't just leave us out here!" I shouted at their retreating forms.

They ignored me and kept going.

"Should we go after them?" asked Tony.

I didn't know what to say. I had a feeling they'd be zero help if we did. And I had this sharp stick in my hand and was itching to use it on Ivar, so it was probably better if we didn't.

"No, let's just try to figure out where the hell we are and where we're going."

Tony put his sack on the ground and bent down to open it up. "Well, the good news is, we're not lost."

I laughed bitterly. "Of course we're lost. What the hell are you talking about?"

"Nope. We're not." He looked up at me and grinned, pulling a map out of his bag. "See? We have a map."

I bent down and gathered Tony in the biggest, strongest bear hug I could muster. No matter what happened in these fucked up woods, I had my map-toting best friend Tony Green with me.

Chapter Twelve

We all moved to the center of the clearing, gathering around the weapons table that was now bare. I emptied out my backpack to see what was inside. My flags were purple. Cool ... my favorite color. Everyone else dumped their bags out too. Tony's flags were green, which was both hilarious and spooky since there was no way Tony Green could have known which bag had those flags in it. This forest situation just got creepier and creepier every minute. Chase had blue flags, Jared yellow, Finn red, Spike black, and Becky orange. We also had the supplies Niles had mentioned: flint, map, army-style food packets, two bottles of water each, a mini-flashlight, and a big candle. I guessed that was the flare.

"How are we supposed to light these damn flares, anyway?" I asked.

"The flint," answered Jared.

"Yeah ... the flint ... now why didn't I know that?" I looked at Jared suspiciously. I guess I wasn't hiding my feelings very well, because I felt Tony nudge me in the back.

Jared brushed my comment off. "So, we have an obstacle course to get through," he looked over at me but I refused to be flattered, "and I suggest we stick together, like we discussed."

I turned, pulling Tony a little off to the side. "Are we going to do this with them or are we going it alone?"

"This is a pretty big forest, Jayne. Maybe we'd be better off if we stuck together."

I sighed. He was right. Still, I wasn't all that excited about hanging out with Jared and now maybe Chase either. I just wasn't sure that I trusted them. They seemed pretty unaffected by all of this. Anyone who wasn't freaking out right now, in my opinion, was either a stone-cold badass or in on this scheme somehow; and I didn't think Jared was all that badass - maybe Chase, but not him.

Tony and I went back to the table, and I said, "We're in for now. We'll take it as it comes; I can't guarantee we'll stay with the group for the entire test, though."

"Fair enough," said Jared. "What about the rest of you guys?"

Everyone nodded, so Jared pulled out his map and laid it on the table. Niles had been nice enough to mark a red spot on it, a type of 'you are here' marker. The first waypoint was to the northeast. There was no scale or legend, so it was impossible to know how far away our first stop was. I was no map expert, but even I knew that this one sucked.

"We're here, at this red dot. We need to get here, to the first waypoint. That means we have to go that way." Jared pointed off in the distance.

Tony and I quickly agreed. The final rays of the setting sun that I had noticed earlier gave us a good reference for the compass points. "Man, do I wish I had a compass right now," I said to no one in particular.

Spike happened to be walking by me at the time. "Well, you kind of have one."

"Oh yeah? Where?"

"On the trees; rumor has it that moss grows more on the north side of the tree than the south side." He winked before walking ahead of Tony and me.

"Is that true, Tony?"

Tony shrugged his shoulders. "I've heard that before, but I'm not sure if it's true. We need to find the North Star for our night walking. We can use the sun during the day."

"I think we should sleep at night - it's pretty friggin' dark in here." It wasn't even totally nightfall yet and I could barely see ten feet in front of me.

Jared left the clearing, the rest of us gathering up our stuff and following not far behind.

I hurried to catch up to Chase, since his form was quickly disappearing into the thick trees ahead. I could hear Becky struggling behind us. Finn was staying close by her, I think to make sure she didn't get left behind. I could hear him encouraging her along.

There were fallen trees and low-hanging branches everywhere. I had thought this was going to be a leisurely stroll through the forest, but I soon learned differently. Everywhere we stepped it was tough going. Where are all the damn paths in this place, anyway?

A breeze moved through the trees, pushing some branches aside. I thought I caught a glimpse of ... Yes! It was a path of some sort.

"Hey, guys! I think there's a path over here!" I pointed through the trees.

Tony looked around the branch that was in our way. "Yeah, she's right - there is a path here. This would be a lot easier to follow, I think. It seems to be going in the same direction."

Jared came back to where we were standing and looked for himself. He smiled absently, confusion momentarily flitting across his face before he nodded at me. "Good job, Jayne." He looked over his shoulder, encouraging us to follow. "Come on, everyone, let's go this way. Tony's right; it's going in the direction we want."

Spike and Chase easily kept up with his pace, but the rest of us fell behind. Tony was looking at the ground as we walked. He didn't see some branches in front of him and so they hit him in the face. As they swung back, they barely missed whipping into me.

"Pay attention to where you're walking, Tony," I said, irritated.

"Sorry ... I'm just ... do you notice anything weird about this path?" he asked.

"Weird? No, what do you mean?"

"I mean, it's not really a path. There's no trail on the ground. It's just some branches that have been shoved aside. But look down ... "

I looked at the ground to see what he was talking about. Sure enough, there was no trail under our feet. We were still walking over fallen branches, rocks, and other things - not what you would expect to see on a path that was well-traveled. But the way the branches were well away from the area, it seemed as though it could have been used quite a bit.

"Weird," was all I could think to say. Maybe whatever used the path didn't have feet. Or legs. I laughed nervously with the direction my mind was going. "Is it my imagination, or is this place glowing green?" I was feeling like I was going to see some fairies jump out at us at any second.

Tony laughed. "No, the only things glowing green right now are my teeth. I feel like I haven't brushed them in three days."

"I know, right? My teeth totally have fur on them right now."

"What're you guys talkin' 'bout?" asked Finn, coming up behind us.

"Oh nothing - just furry teeth and enchanted pathways. What's up with you?"

"Nothin'. Just tryin' not to trip and fall on my keester."

"Hey, guys! Wait up!" said Becky from behind us.

The three of us stopped to wait for her. She was short, so it was hard for her to climb over the bigger branches - unlike me, graceful gazelle that I was. Okay, maybe not so graceful or so much like a gazelle, but I had at least four inches on Becky, and I wasn't tall by any means. Everything about her was tiny. Even her tiny head had tiny ears attached to it. She wasn't a dwarf - more like a miniature person. Perfectly proportioned, but extra, extra, extra small. She probably had to shop in the little kids' department.

She finally caught up after scrambling over a particularly large log. "Where are we? Are we almost there yet?"

"I have no idea," I answered. I hadn't even taken my map out yet. "Let's go ask Jared."

"Where'd he go?" asked Finn.

We looked up ahead at the path in front of us. It was dark now, and I couldn't see anything but some trees and then blackness.

"Shit, we've lost them," I said, pissed that those turds had left us behind. "Dammit, this isn't a race! Why didn't they wait?"

"Maybe they didn't realize they'd lost us," offered Tony.

I made a very inelegant sound in response. Tony was always giving people the benefit of the doubt. I knew if I were in front, I would make sure the people behind me were still behind me, especially in a dark creepy forest filled with friggin 'obstacles', whatever those were going to be.

"Let's just keep moving ahead on the path and see if we can catch up to them," suggested Tony.

Tony took the lead, turning on his flashlight, and we followed - first me, then Becky, then Finn. We didn't want to risk losing Becky the way we'd been lost already, so we kept her between us.

We were walking along for several minutes, with no sign of Jared, Chase, or Spike, when we heard shouting and screaming up ahead. The shouting was human; the screaming ... not so much. We all stopped dead in our tracks.

Tony shut off his flashlight.

My heart quit beating for a second and then rushed to catch up to its now accelerated rhythm. "What the fuck was that?" I asked, whispering loudly, totally freaking out.

Becky's eyes were practically the size of saucers. I could see them easily in the dark, glowing beacons coming from her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

Tony grabbed my arm, squeezing as hard as he could.

I slapped his hand away and shot him a dirty look.

He apologized silently, just moving his lips.

Finn was staring ahead of us into the darkness, probably wishing he could see like a cat so he could figure out what was waiting for us up ahead.

I was seeing okay here in the dark, more so than I did back home - probably the moonlight was helping. It was brighter here or something.

We heard another shout then and a scream. I recognized the voice. "It's Chase!" I whispered loudly, desperation in my voice. We couldn't just sit here while Chase, Spike, and Jared were getting their asses kicked. "Come on, we have to go see what's going on." I gestured for them to follow me, but Finn and Tony rushed to get in front. Frustrated with their uncoordinated chivalry that inadvertently knocked me to the side, I grabbed Becky's hand to drag her along and make sure she didn't get left behind.

We rushed up the path as quickly as we could, not worrying about the sounds we might be making as we crashed through the undergrowth. Chase and whoever else was up there were creating enough noise to cover the evidence of our arrival. I could tell we were getting closer now because we could hear grunts too - the sounds of men fighting in close contact.

Suddenly, a shot rang out.

Chase! The vision of his gun sitting on that weapons table and him putting it in his backpack rushed through my mind. I never considered that he'd actually use the stupid thing. My next thought nearly stopped me cold: What the fuck am I gonna do with a sharp stick?! I had no time to worry about that now, though. We had arrived at the scene.

None of us were prepared for what we saw.

Chapter Thirteen

We had reached a small opening in the trees. It was dark, but the moon was nearly full and shining brightly across the clearing, making it seem like there was a streetlight above our heads. It was enough for us to make out the form of Chase lying on his back, Spike's dark figure hunched over him.

"Chase!" I yelled, rushing to get to him, shoving Tony and Finn out of my way. I was anxious to bend down next to Spike and see if he was okay.

"Jayne, stop!" yelled Tony, panic in his voice. It didn't register with me for a split second, but by the time it did, it was too late. The dark figure that was crouching over Chase straightened up, and I immediately understood why Tony had called out anxiously to me.

It wasn't Spike. And whoever it was, he wasn't checking to see if Chase was okay. He was a little too close to Chase's bloody neck to be doing that.

I froze in my tracks, five feet away from the creature. He turned around to face me, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. I saw the glistening streak of crimson left behind as he slowly lowered his arm down to his side.

"Well, hello there, you sweet, ferocious thing. Nice of you to stop by. Are you here to rescue me?" He simpered when he talked, exactly like my flamingly gay music teacher from tenth grade who used to wear red pants and pink shirts to school. The creature smiled at me, and I could see blood on his teeth. Chase's blood.

So this is what a so-called 'obstacle' looks like. Shiiiiiit.

I was torn between the desire to jump on him and smash that smile off his face, and the urge to run away as fast as I could while screaming like a girl on fire. The look in his eyes reminded me of the big wildcats Tony and I would watch on Animal Planet ... crouched down and waiting, totally still, for the perfect moment to pounce on their prey and tear it to itty bitty bloody pieces.

A more subdued form of self-preservation won out - I walked backwards slowly, trying not to get him too excited about chasing me.

I heard Finn speaking quietly off to my left, a little behind me. "Jayne, take a step to your right ... slowly ... "

He didn't have to tell me twice. I stepped to my right and back, hoping it would put me between Tony and Mr. Tall, Dark, and Bloody. One more step and I was even with Finn on my left.

He had his bow up, arrow notched and ready to go.

Now that I was out of the way, our mystery man ... creature ... whatever he was, saw Finn too.

"Oooh, scary. A bow and arrow." He put his hand up to his mouth in mock fear. "Whatever am I going to do?"

Before the word 'do' was completely out of his mouth, he was standing three feet in front of Finn. I didn't even see him begin to move and then suddenly he was just there. "Hello, sweetheart. I ... " The rest of the cruel taunt he was in the process of lisping at Finn was suddenly cut off when Finn let the arrow fly, embedding it in the creature's chest cavity.

Finn slowly lowered the bow to his side as we all stared, stunned, at the arrow now protruding halfway out of the creature's chest and partway out of its back.

"Take that, shit-fer-brains," said Finn.

The creature was breathing heavily, the simpering smile wiped from his face. "Dammit ... a wooden arrow? Who gave that dangerous toy to you, little boy?"

And then he was gone ... poof ... like he'd never even been there in the first place.

Finn let out the breath he'd been holding in one big whoosh, bending over and holding his hand over his heart.

I totally understood what he was going through. I was having a small heart attack myself, and I hadn't just stuck a blood-sucking creature from my worst nightmares through the chest with a stupid arrow, unlike Finn.

Tony looked over at our hero, his own face so white it looked nearly blue. "Where'd you learn to shoot like that?"

Finn stood up and shrugged his shoulders. "I come from a long line o' rednecks; we bowhunt all kinda crazy shit in Central Florida. Nothin' like that, though."

I decided right then and there that I was never going to mock or disrespect a redneck ever again, for as long as I lived. He'd just saved all our bacon.

I put my hand on his shoulder. "Finn, my friend, you have nerves of absolute steel. I almost peed my pants when that gargoyle just appeared in front of you like that. I didn't even see him move."

"He reminded me of a rattler. Just waitin' to strike. We got lots of rattlers out where I'm from."

My newfound admiration for Finn's redneckery was interrupted by the sound of Chase's moaning. In all the excitement I had kind of forgotten the poor guy. Thank God he was still alive. My brain was not ready to accept death yet. Anyone's. Not even that freaky deaky monstrosity that had just vanished into thin air. It's not that I minded him being dead, so much as I just didn't want to have to look at him anymore; and if he had died, he'd still be here with us, as a reminder of how the deep the shit was that we were in right now. I don't think they make wading boots tall enough.

Becky was the first to reach Chase. She knelt down, peering at his face, careful not to touch him. "Hey, Chase. You okay?"

I wasn't so worried about the touching part. I bent down and tapped his cheek a couple times. "Hey, Chase ... you in there?" I figured he'd appreciate the tough love approach more than the fawning and sniveling stuff.

His dry lips parted a little and he said weakly, "Yeah ... barely."

"Can you open your eyes?"

He opened them, and I couldn't help but gasp in surprise. The light of the moon was shining down onto his face, almost as bright as a flashlight. What were once the brightest cornflower-blue eyes I'd ever seen, were now a dark and dull ... I don't know ... blah. If 'empty' could be a color, this is what it would look like. "Holy shit, Chase ... your eyes."

"I can't see anything in this light," said Becky, pulling her flashlight out of her bag and shining it in Chase's face. As soon as she saw what I was talking about, her eyes got even buggier than they already were, welling up with tears. She snapped off her flashlight and turned her head to quickly brush them away.

Chase struggled to sit up, blinking the remnants of the brightness away. "I can see fine, but it is a little dark."

Tony and Finn came up to see what the big deal was. They both got on either side of Chase to help him stand. He swayed a little on his feet at first, but then he seemed to get his equilibrium back.

"Dizzy ... "

"Still a man of few words, I see," I said, jokingly. It was time to get some positive vibes back into this group, so I was determined not to start shrieking and having a total mental breakdown, even though that seemed like the natural thing to be doing.

Becky choked, laughing and crying at the same time. "Sorry," she said, embarrassed about her tears. I thought she was the only one having a normal reaction right now though, so I patted her on the shoulder to make her feel better.

Tony and Finn leaned in and got a closer look at Chase's eyes. Finn shined his flashlight on Chase's face. "Dude, what color are your eyes s'posed to be?"

"Blue."

Finn let out a low whistle. "Well, they ain't blue no more."

"Yeah, they're a kind of, I don't know ... gray? Is that gray, Jayne?" asked Tony, concern marring his features.

"That's what I'd call it," I answered. That was better than saying 'lifeless' or 'empty'. I changed the subject to something more pressing. "So, where the hell are Jared and Spike, and what the fuck was that monster doing to Chase?"

"Looked like it was eatin' him, to me," said Finn, matter-of-factly.

"I don't think it was eating me," said Chase.

The teeth marks and blood streaks on his neck said differently. "What was it doing then?" I asked. Maybe it had injected him with a poison that was making him stupid.

"It was draining my life force away, I think, not just blood. After it got the drop on me and nailed me to the ground, I tried to fight it; but almost right away, I got tired. Then stuff just stopped mattering to me and I kinda zoned out. I quit fighting on purpose."

"Stuff? What stuff stopped mattering?" asked Tony.

"Life. Living."

A life-sucking creature. Here in this forest. With us. "Sonofabitch!"

"Shhh, Jayne, not so loud," said Tony, sounding panicked.

"What?! Those assholes put us in this forest with humanoid creepers that like to suck the life outta people! You know what that means, Tony? Vampires!  And not the hot, Twilight kind either. How am I supposed to remain calm about that?"

Becky spoke up. "He's right. We have to be quiet. That thing might not be the only one out here. Maybe he has ... friends."

I looked at Chase. "How do you feel now ... about life, I mean?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Better. Tired."

"I've read a lot of vampire books, and I've never read one that said they suck the will to live out of you," said Tony, keeping his voice down.

"What's the difference? Blood ... life ... the end result is the same," I said, pissed off all over again. When I got my hands on that Dardennes guy, he was gonna be so friggin' sorry.

The thought of lighting my flare and giving up entered my mind, but the reality of knowing it would do no good quickly chased that thought right out again. The assholes who gave us the flares were the same assholes who knew that vampire was in here. The chances of them coming to rescue us, I was quickly realizing, were probably nil. Our only hope was to press on and get to the end.

"Where are Spike and Jared?" asked Tony, looking around.

"Maybe they ran off," said Finn.

"Maybe the creature got them and they're on the ground around here somewhere," said Becky, looking around fearfully, stepping over to hold onto Finn's arm.

Smart girl, going with the guy who has the poison arrows and knows how to use 'em.  I took a step closer to Finn too and immediately felt emboldened. "Or maybe," I suggested, "they're hanging out with Niles having a nice little laugh at our expense."

Tony frowned at me. "Jayne, how can you say that? They wouldn't do that." He was getting mad, thinking I was joking at an inappropriate time. And to be fair, I have been known to do that before, but not this time.

"I'm not kidding, Tony. Something was going on with Jared. I saw him giving goo-goo eyes to Dardennes earlier. After I caught him, he wouldn't look at me anymore."

That made Becky cranky, if the tone of her voice was any indication. "Jayne, you're wrong. Jared's been nothing but kind and helpful to all of us. If it wasn't for him, we'd all still be out on the street, fending for ourselves."

"Yeah," I scoffed, "instead, you're here in the haunted forest, about to have the life sucked out of you by a flamingly gay vampire."

"Nah. I ain't buyin' it," said Finn. "Jared's a good guy." He was shaking his head, refusing to listen to anything negative about his absentee leader.

"I agree with Jayne," said Chase.

No one was more stunned than I was at this. "You do? Why?"

"I saw the same thing. And once that life-sucker guy appeared, Jared went AWOL. Spike stuck around for a bit, but then he left, too. At least Spike tried to help. Jared ... " His shrug said it all.

"Ha! I told you, Tony."

Tony shook his head. "I still don't believe it. Just because someone gives someone a look and runs away when a blood-sucking demon jumps out of the trees - like any smart person who wants to live would do - it doesn't make him an accomplice. I'm withholding judgment until I have more proof."

"Ugh, you sound like a lawyer, Tony." I hated lawyers. I knew they served a purpose, but my dad was one and that was all I needed to know.

He shrugged an apology at me, but I knew Tony well enough to know that when he puts his foot down, it's down. He'd have to see Jared sucking the life out of someone with his own eyes before he agreed to my theory.

"It don't matter," said Finn. "We hafta get outta here and find that first waypoint."

"Does anyone have any idea where we are?" I asked, bending down to open my bag and get my map out. My hand brushed up against the sharp stick in there at the same time we heard a crashing in the trees nearby. I grabbed it and yanked it out, ready to jab anyone who came too close.

I had pretty decent eyesight here in this forest, but when I pulled my weapon out, it looked blacker than black. It seemed to meld into the shadows, almost impossible to see. I had no time to contemplate this phenomenon, though, because someone or something was coming right for us. And fast.

Becky was pointing her flashlight in the direction of the noise, her knife held in her other hand.

The rest of us kept our weapons at the ready.

Blood pressures were rising.

Anxiety was at maximum capacity.

This thing needed to come out and give us a damn good explanation for why it was scaring the shit out of us, and quick, or it was gonna get stabbed, arrowed, sliced, axed, and shot.

The branches parted and out stepped Spike, his slingshot dangling from one fist. "Hey, guys ... whoa, easy there ... don't shoot." He held his hands up in front of him in a gesture of surrender, the rubber bands of his slingshot dangling limply. He flashed his trademark smile at us.

Instead of turning me on this time, though, it creeped me out, looking all too familiar. I could still picture the blood smeared on a very similar set of teeth not too long ago. Everyone but me lowered their weapons.

"Not so fast, there, Spike, if that's your real name ... " I stepped around Finn and Chase, advancing on him slowly. "Lift up your shirt."

"What?" Spike looked lost.

"You heard me. Lift it." I gestured with my stick, point first.

Spike looked at all our faces, one by one. "Guys? Help me out here. Why the striptease?"

"Oh Gawd, Jayne! Not again!" said a frustrated Finn. "He ain't the bad guy here!"

"You heard her," said Chase. "Lift it."

"You too?" Finn asked Chase, but Chase ignored him.

"Listen, guys, I don't know what's going on here, but I was lost for a little while and now I'm just glad I found you."

"Save it. Lift up your shirt, or taste my pointy stick, Spike." I was so sad right then, thinking I was going to have to stab the hottest guy I'd seen in a long, long time. Maybe ever. Those fucking teeth. I should have known they were too good to be true.

I heard a noise behind me. It was the sound of Finn's arrow being notched and drawn back. He sounded tired when he said, "You heard her, Spike. Show us the goods."

Spike swallowed loudly. I could see his Adams apple move up and down with the effort. He dropped his slingshot on the ground in front of him and slowly reached for the bottom of his shirt.

"Okay, guys. I don't know what the hell is going on here, but if you want to see my chest that bad, go right ahead. Get your fill, cuz this show is available for a limited time only." He slowly lifted his shirt to reveal the body beneath.

Chapter Fourteen

Spike brought his shirt up and over his head to reveal a very heavily-tattooed torso. The multi-colored tapestry ended at his wrists and neck, exactly where his shirt would be when it was on.

We saw plenty of ink, but no injury. No scar. No marks. So unless Spike was able to spontaneously heal himself of an arrow wound to the heart in five minutes, leaving no trace and perfectly formed tattoos behind, well, he wasn't our man ... or our vampire ... or whatever that thing was.

I wagged my stick at him. "Go ahead, put it down. We've seen enough." More than enough actually. Yummers.

Spike put his shirt back on, pulling his sleeves down to cover his tattoos. "Well, that was fun. Now it's your turn, Jayne." He smiled at me, nearly downing me with his combination magic smile and now, as I'd just discovered, gorgeously tattooed self. He was like my hottest bad boy fantasy fused with the niceness of Tony.

Why, oh why, was I meeting him right before I was going to die? Where is the justice in life?

"Where's Jared?" asked Chase.

I turned, walking back to join the others, catching Becky's eye. She was fanning herself, and not because it was hot in the forest. She gave me a look and I knew exactly what she was thinking. Holy hotness. Spike was something else. He could suck on my neck any day of the week and twice on Sundays - so long as he didn't drain the life out of me, of course.

I closed my eyes for a second and gave myself a mental shake. I had to get my head back in the game. There was no use fantasizing about Spike while sitting on death's doorstep. There would hopefully be plenty of time for that later.

Spike walked over to us, answering Chase's question while tucking his slingshot into his back pocket. "I have no idea where Jared went. One minute the three of us were walking down the path, the next minute that ... thing ... was on me. I got one good punch in before he knocked me on my ass. I was about to get jumped on again when Chase shot him in the back - by the way, thanks for that, Chase - and then I got the hell outta there. I figured Chase had done the same thing. I just ran until I couldn't hear anything anymore. I waited a bit, got a little lost, and then found my way back."

"Did you see which direction Jared went?" I asked.

"Nope. I don't even remember seeing him when that guy was around."

"Uh-huh ... he wasn't even around, eh? Interesting ... ," I said knowingly, looking at Tony and then Finn. They both shook their heads at me.

Spike noticed. "What? What'd I miss?"

Finn sighed. "Jayne and Chase think Jared may be in on this thing with Dardennes and them."

Spike considered it a second. "Nah. Not Jared ... he's a good guy."

I just raised my eyebrows. I'd already said my piece on this. We'd find out soon enough which side Jared was on. He could run, but eventually, we'd catch up.

"Well, I vote we stay here and wait until morning. I can't see a damn thing out here. With my luck, we'll just get farther and farther away from the waypoint," said Becky, sinking down to sit on the forest floor.

I looked around. It didn't seem all that dark to me, but everyone else agreed with Becky. I didn't argue because I'd had enough excitement for one night and this seemed as good a place as any to spend the night - except for the fact that it was the very spot where Chase had been attacked. I decided that if he didn't have a problem with it, I shouldn't either. "You cool with this, Chase?"

He shrugged, which apparently meant he was okay with it.

We all gathered around the flattest spot we could find, and even though the night wasn't that cold, we huddled close together.

"Should we build a fire?" asked Becky.

"I dunno if we should or not," said Finn, looking to the rest of us for our votes.

I yawned. "I'm tired enough to just fall asleep right now, fire or not." I had fished out one of my meal packets and was getting ready to tear it open.

"You might wanna conserve as much of that as you can," said Finn.

I thought about it, looking over at Tony for his input.

He nodded.

I dumped out the bag's contents - something in foil, something else in foil, and something else in foil. Stupid. Who packs rations without labels on them?  I opened up one of the smaller ones and some crackers fell out. I picked them up and ate them slowly, savoring the familiar taste. They reminded me of Townhouse crackers, which I usually ate with thin slices of mild cheddar cheese. I sighed, wishing I had some. I'd bet my mom had a big block of it in our fridge ... at home.

The thought of her and our house made me sad. I wondered what she was doing right now, while I was traipsing around in a nightmare forest a million miles away. Maybe worrying about me a little. But then again, maybe not. She probably wasn't as concerned about me as she should be, which was a small comfort; I wasn't not sure why. I was just glad she wasn't thinking about me being mauled by vampires and crap like that. I had never texted her to tell her I had left. I sighed. Things were definitely complicated between us right now, but I still felt bad about not telling her where I was going.

Tony nudged me with his foot. "Whatcha thinkin' about?"

"Nothin'," I said. I didn't want to talk about my problems in front of everyone.

Tony let it go. He just put his arm around my shoulders and squeezed.

I was so glad he was here with me. Then again, a part of me wished he were really, really far away - far away from this seriously next-level, screwed-up shit.

"I'll take the first watch," said Chase, sitting with his back to us, looking out into the center of the clearing.

"How're we gonna work this?" asked Finn, kneeling and sitting back on his heels, his bow leaning up against his thighs.

"I'll do two hours, then we switch; each of us does two hours 'til the sun comes up. If you hear or see anything questionable, wake everybody up."

"Anybody know what time it is?" asked Spike.

"Prob'ly about eight or nine, I'd guess," said Finn.

"Someone's gonna get lucky and miss out on guard duty," said Spike, winking at Becky and me.

"I don't expect to miss out, guys," I said.

"Me neither," said Becky.

"Don't worry, girls, you'll get your chance," assured Finn. "You can go first tomorrow night."

"Maybe we can finish the whole thing tomorrow," said Becky.

"That's not very likely," came a voice from the trees behind us - Jared's voice.

I grabbed my stick and stood up. I saw Chase reach behind his back and slowly pull his gun out of the waistband of his pants, keeping it hidden down by his side. None of the other sitting ducks did anything.

"Hey, Jared, where've you been?" asked Becky, jumping up to run and give him a hug.

He didn't stab her with his spear, so that was a good sign. He also didn't bite her neck - another point in his favor; but he'd be stupid to do that while everyone was watching, so I still wasn't convinced.

I walked over with the point of my stick facing out. "Lift up your shirt, Jared." I wanted to see if he had a little boo-boo over his heart.

He just looked at me, no expression on his face, moving to the side, as if to step around me and get closer to the group. Becky was hanging onto his arm, giving me a worried look.

"Don't go any farther, or you and me are gonna have a problem," I said, menacingly. Everything he was doing right now was only making me feel more secure in my suspicions. The time for playing nice was over.

"What?" he half-laughed. "Are you gonna stab me with your stick?" He smiled at me, as if trying to disarm me with his niceness, but I wasn't having any of it.

"Lift up the shirt, or feel the pain of my stick in your stupid guts, Jared. It's that simple."

Tony's voice came out two octaves higher than normal, "Jayne, stop! It's Jared!"

Chase showed up at my side. "Do what she says, Jared."

I glanced sideways at Chase and then looked quickly back at Jared. I was grateful for the support, but I didn't want to take my eyes off him for even a second. I saw how fast that vampire thing had moved. Actually, technically speaking, I had not seen how fast it had moved because it moved too fast to be seen.

Without lowering my weapon or dropping my watch I said, "Thanks for speaking up, Chase. I thought I was going to have to do this on my own."

Spike strolled up and stood at my other elbow. "Well, what the hell. I had to do the striptease, Jared. It's only fair if you have to do it too." He didn't cock his slingshot, but it's not like it would have been very scary even if he had.

"Striptease? Are you guys drinking out here or something?" Jared laughed, looking from person to person while giving all of us his most charming, innocent smile.

Mr. Innocent, my ass.

Chase pulled his gun out of hiding. "Just do it, Jared, then we can move on to other things."

"Let me get this straight. You want me ... to pull up my shirt?"

I nodded silently.

Jared sighed. "Whatever ... " He let his spear drop to the ground next to him, and reached down to pick up the bottom of his shirt. "This is ridiculous, you know."

We all watched as more and more of his torso was revealed.

I don't think I've ever seen anyone that white before. He was glowing like the moonlight out here. "Holy shit, man, does anyone have any sunglasses?" I asked. I could already see that his chest was a smooth as a baby's butt - no stab wounds anywhere.

Jared's face was still under the lifted shirt. "Can I get dressed now?"

Chase put his gun back in his waistband, walking away.

"Yes, please," said Spike. "I'm getting snow blind from looking at you."

Everyone giggled. Then we were all laughing. Hard. Apparently, trying to stay quiet when you laugh, while also worrying about being killed by a vampire, is impossible. Pretty soon we were all grabbing our stomachs and moaning.

"Stop ... stop laughing ... my stomach ... ," said Becky.

Even Chase was smiling. His eyes were looking bluer too.

"Chase, your eye color is coming back," I said.

Tony squinted in the darkness, trying to see Chase's eyes.

Finn tried to do the same. "How can you see that from here?" he asked.

I shrugged. "It's as plain as day. The moon is lighting him up like a candle."

Tony looked around and up into the sky. "No, it's not. It's pitch black out here ... now that Jared's pulled his shirt back down."

"Oh-ho! Zingah!!" I shouted, laughing my ass off all over again, before eventually collapsing in near exhaustion.

Eventually we all quieted down, once the adrenaline had left our systems. I knew now that Jared wasn't the vampire. I still wasn't totally convinced he wasn't somehow in on it, though. His lame excuse for where he'd been mirrored Spike's, but it was less believable since he had been gone for so damn long and neither Spike nor Chase remembered seeing him there in the clearing during the attack. Still, it was a good feeling to have everyone together again, to see Chase's eyes returning back to their usual blue, and to have some kind of a plan.

We decided we were going to sleep under the trees at the edge of the clearing tonight and get up bright and early to kick this test's ass tomorrow. Then we were going home.

I fell asleep wondering just where home was for me.

Chapter Fifteen

We got up as the first rays of sun were penetrating into the clearing where we'd spent the night. I didn't see how bright the morning light was at first because there were so many damn leaves on me; the trees around here had a serious shedding problem. No wonder the ground was so soft everywhere.

I threw the green leaves off of me as I sat up, pulling several of the more tenacious ones out of my hair. Once they were gone, I realized just how low the temperature was. Apparently, leaves made good insulation. I shivered from the cold and my still sleepy metabolism. I wasn't much of a coffee person, but I sure wouldn't have turned down a cup of it just then. I stood up and stomped my feet a little, getting the circulation going and my body warmed up.

Chase was still sleeping, snoring lightly. He had stayed up for the first watch and had wrestled with a vampire and lost, so I didn't blame him for being extra tired.

Jared had taken the map out of his backpack and was looking it over with Finn and Tony.

Spike was staring off into the trees, eating crackers out of one of his meal bags. It was easy to see he was more of a night owl than a morning person. I'm not sure his brain was totally functioning yet. His hair stuck out in all directions, making me wonder if he was called Spike because of this particular style. Even unkempt and unwashed, I loved it. Now if only he'd take his shirt off again ...

Becky stepped up next to me and nudged my hip with hers. "Wanna go pee with me?"

"Sure. I'm glad you said something; I've had to go all night."

We made our way out into the trees.

"Me too. I guess I'm glad we have limited food and water right now."

"You said it."

Once we were out of earshot, Becky asked, "So, do you feel better about Jared now?"

"Enough to let him sleep with us, so long as we have a guard - but no, not totally. Becky, you missed it. He seriously was giving Dardennes some kind of look, and Dardennes was returning it."

Becky shrugged. "Well, I think he seemed good last night, right?"

"Yeah, but his explanation of where he'd been didn't really make much sense, did it?"

Becky sighed. "Maybe not. But I have to believe he's with us, Jayne, on our side. He's been really good to everyone, including Sam. He really helped her out. He almost didn't come without her; she insisted, though."

That really didn't work with my theory so well, but I wasn't going to give up that easily. "Let's just agree to disagree on this for now. I'm sure it will work itself out in the end."

Becky smiled. "Deal. Now the question is: what are we going to use as toilet paper?"

"Leaves?" I suggested.

"Just don't use any poison oak or poison ivy ones."

I hesitated, instantly picturing an itchy red rash on my hoo-hah. Yikes. "I have no idea what poison anything looks like unless it's in a container marked with a skull and crossbones."

"We'll be okay if we take a leaf off a tree - I think the poison stuff is on the ground."

"Yeah, but did you notice how high up those branches are? How are we going to reach a leaf?" I pouted for effect. "Dammit, I want a leaf."

Suddenly, a giant, long tree limb that was above our heads moved, slowly lowering itself down to stop next to my shoulder. The sound of its huge body of wood straining and cracking to move in such an unnatural way was eerie as hell. I stood stock still, unable to make my feet go.

"What the fuck?" I whispered desperately to Becky, looking for some kind of guidance. The panic from last night was back. Was the tree going to kill me? Was it in league with the flamboyant, Chase-nibbling vampire?

Becky's eyes were nearly bugging out of her head. She whispered loudly, "I think it wants you to take a leaf!"  She grabbed my hand, squeezing the crap out of it. I was glad for the contact, though, and squeezed back.

Please don't let this tree kill me, please don't let this tree kill me. I wasn't sure who or what I was praying to, but I hoped he, she, or it was listening.

I slowly reached up to the branch sitting next to my shoulder and gingerly plucked two leaves off. As soon as I pulled my hand away, the branch sprang back up, making a mighty groaning sound, the branch and leaves creating a whooshing sound as they rocketed from my shoulder back towards the sky. Tons of leaves, loosened by the branch's unnatural movement, flew off and floated down around us.

Becky held her hands up, catching some as they fell. She looked at me, her hands now grasping a bunch of leaves to her chest, whispering, "Holy crap, Jayne. What just happened?"

"I have no friggin' idea." I looked up at the tree. There was a crack in the limb that had moved for me. And there was no doubt in my mind that this branch had moved for me. I said I wanted a leaf, and it gave me a thousand of them - from its own ... body. Sap was coming out of the crack in the branch near the place where it connected to the tree, and I was suddenly overwhelmed with sadness. Tears sprang to my eyes and my heart started aching a little bit.

"Jayne, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" Becky giggled a little bit, confused about my seemingly incongruous emotions.

I pointed. "Look at the sap coming out of that crack. The tree is bleeding. It's bleeding because I asked for a stupid leaf to wipe my ass! I caused that to happen. I don't know why, but it's making me really sad." My explanation was nuts and my feelings being so over-the-top made no sense, but it was what it was.

Leaves rained down on my head, the tree shuddering, loosening them and causing them to fall. It just made me even more unhappy. I stood there being showered with leaves while crying like a baby.

Becky rubbed my back, and in an understanding, soothing voice said, "PMS sucks."

I frowned through my sadness, screwing up my eyebrows in concentration. I'd just finished my period, so according to my calculations, this wasn't PMS; but I didn't say anything to Becky. Let her think I had a chemical reason for being so wacky right now. It was probably the stress. I was going to figure this out with Tony later ... on second thought, as soon as I got back.

I wiped the tears off my cheeks and took a deep breath. "I still have to pee."

Becky laughed. "Me too." She looked around and then up at the tree, apprehension written all over her face. "Where should we go?" she whispered.

I looked up at the tree too. It had stopped sending leaves down on me, which was a good thing, because pretty soon I was going to be completely covered in a mound of them, and the tree was going to be naked. I seemed to recall from biology class that trees needed their leaves to absorb the sun's energy and feed themselves. Why I decided at that moment to remember some random fact from one of my science classes, I don't know, but it managed to make me feel guilty all over again. Shit! Focus. Move on.

"Well," I said, getting back to the business at hand, "I don't really want to pee with this tree watching me."

No sooner had the words left my lips, than I felt the ground under our feet start to tremble. The tree groaned again, twisting its trunk.

It hit me then that the tree was actually pulling itself up out of the ground. "No! Wait! Tree, don't move!" It stopped moving, so I continued my begging. "You can watch me pee! It's okay! Here look, I'm peeing! I'm peeing! You can stop uprooting yourself." I looked in desperation at Becky, nearly yelling, "Start peeing for chrissake, Becky!"

She yanked her pants down and peed on the spot, not saying a word.

The ground had stopped moving and the tree had ceased its groaning and shuddering. The only thing I could hear was my heart beating in my throat and our pee splattering on the leaves beneath us.

After we were finished and had stepped to the side, we stood there, looking at each other, at the tree, and at all the leaves around us - completely weirded out, not knowing what to say. Both of us had seen it, so there was no denying it had happened. I was pretty sure I wasn't crazy. But then a thought came to me.

"Maybe this is one of those mass hysteria things, you know? Where stress causes people to have the same psychotic episodes."

Becky thought about it for a second, still not moving, and said, "Yeah, but what about all of this?" She gestured to the pile of leaves and the crack in the branch above us.

"Maybe it was already here and we just made up situations to fit the scene?"

Becky shrugged, not looking very convinced. "Maybe."

"Come on, let's go back," I said, turning towards our camp, with Becky anxiously following and then quickly overtaking me in her hurry to get to the clearing. I glanced over my shoulder at the tree and stopped. I spun around to go back.

"What are you doing?" asked Becky, now ten paces farther down the path we'd followed coming in.

Without answering, I went up to the tree and stood at the base of its trunk. After all that it had done for me, even if it was just a psychotic episode in my mind, I couldn't just take from it and then leave without doing something in return.

I didn't think about what I was going to do too much; I just did it. I put my arms around the trunk and squeezed, turning myself into the type of person I had mocked many times in the past - the proverbial tree hugger.

It was impossible for me to describe the feeling that came through that tree and into my arms at that moment. There just weren't any words for it in my vocabulary. But if I took everything I loved - like cotton candy and the smile on my best friend's face and a tiny, fuzzy-wuzzy kitten - and wrapped it all up into one sensation, this was what hugging that tree felt like. I couldn't stop the smile from bursting across my face.

I felt joy from the tree too. I didn't know what trees liked - probably not cotton candy and kittens - but whatever ... I was sure that my tree was feeling those things when we connected.

Don't get me wrong; the tree didn't hug me back, not with its branches anyway. But I felt an energy coming to me from it, so I was calling it a hug. If someone wanted to put a scientific label on what was happening with our touch, they could probably say it was an exchange of life forces - human and plant - and be not too far off.

Whatever it was, whatever it was called, it was fucking awesome. I wondered if I'd get the same sensation from every tree in this forest or just this one.

"Um, Jayne? ... What are you doing?" Becky had crept back over and was standing a few feet away from me, staring.

"Come over here and do this with me. You're not going to believe this shit." I didn't want to let go just yet, so I spoke with my face resting against the tree's rough bark.

Becky walked over hesitantly, looking at me with a worried expression. "Are you okay?" She was obviously concerned for my mental health.

"Shut up and hug the damn tree, Becky."

Becky sighed. "Oh, screw it, I might as well. I've done stranger things." She went to the other side of the tree, wrapped her arms around its wide trunk, and squeezed.

"Do you feel it?" I asked, excitedly. Now Becky was going to see firsthand how awesome this was.

"Feel what?"

"It. The awesomeness."

"Uh, no. All I feel is hard and pokey tree bark."

"Maybe you're not doing it right."

"I wasn't aware there was a technique to tree hugging." She started to pull away.

"No, wait! I'm coming over there. Stay put."

I released the tree and lost my connection. Bummer. Back to regular life - no cotton candy, no kittens. I walked around to the other side of the tree to look at what Becky was doing. She seemed to be hugging the tree properly; not that I was an expert, but I seemed to have a knack for it.

"Maybe put more of your body on it ... not just hug with your arms, but with your whole body."

"I'm not going to hump the tree, Jayne."

"Shit, Beck, I'm not talking about humping. This is hugging only - Rated G, like a Disney movie."

She sighed, but moved closer so her whole body was touching the tree.

"Well?"

"Sorry, I've got nothing."

"Let me help you."

I stepped forward and got next to her at the tree. I leaned in to hug it again, this time putting my arms above hers on the trunk, so I was touching the tree and her at the same time. I instantly felt the rush of good vibrations again.

Becky yelped. "Holy crap, Jayne! What the heck is that?!"

I shouted, my cheek against the tree again, "A-ha! You feel it now too, don't you?!"

I let go in my excitement and saw Becky's expression go from joy to disappointment in a flash.

"Get your butt back on the tree, Jayne, I just lost the mojo."

I jumped back into hugging position, and as soon as I was hugging the tree and touching Becky at the same time again, her face lit up.

"It's like ... it's like ... falling into sunshine on a cool day ... ," she said dreamily.

"I know." I had the biggest grin on my face. "I could hug this tree all damn day."

"We need to get the guys in on this," said Becky.

I stepped back away from the tree, severing our connection to it and each other.

Becky's face fell. "What's wrong?" She stood up straight, looking at me questioningly.

"I don't think we should say anything just yet."

"Why?"

I didn't answer her right away, and she got a sad look on her face. "It's because you don't trust Jared, isn't it?"

I shrugged. "I just want to feel more comfortable with him first, okay? I mean, it's my call, right?"

Becky nodded. "Yeah, it's your call. You're the tree whisperer, not me." She looked up at the tree wistfully. "That was amazing, though. I wish the others could feel what we were feeling. Even just one time would be worth it. I don't think I could ever forget that."

"Yeah, me neither." I got a mischievous look on my face. "Wanna try another one? See if it's just this tree or if it's all the trees?"

Becky jumped up and down excitedly, her smile back in full force. "Yes! Which one?" She looked around eagerly, seeking out a candidate.

"Let's move closer to the camp. Maybe it's just this area that has the special mojo."

"Good idea."

We walked about thirty feet back towards the clearing. We were still out of sight, but we could hear the others, their voices a low murmur.

"How about this one?" I suggested.

I pointed to a skinnier tree - one that had different bark and leaves too. Our experiment required a change in variables like the age, species, and location of the subject. I knew my science lab teacher would be so proud right now with the integrity of my study variables, or whatever the hell he always called it.

I went up to the new tree but didn't start hugging right away. I felt like it might be kind of presumptuous of me to just walk up and do that, so I started talking first.

Becky was standing next to me, and I saw her eyebrows go up a little, but she was letting me run the show. She remained quiet, listening patiently.

"Um, hello, Tree. I'm Jayne ... and this is Becky. We wanted to hug you, so here we are. You're ... um ... a really nice-looking tree, so that's why we picked you. I mean, all the trees here are nice looking and all ... "

Becky sighed, her patience running thin. "Just hug the tree already, would ya?"

"Fine. Don't rush me." I turned back to the tree. "So I'm going to hug you now, and I hope you give me one of those tree-hugs back."

I reached my hands out and put them on the trunk. My arms easily went all the way around. I instantly felt the energy coming back to me; this time it was more vibrant, more green, if a color can be used to describe a feeling. I didn't think about cotton candy this time. I thought about a cool breeze on a hot day, fireworks on the fourth of July, the excitement of being chased by someone who I hoped would catch me. Above all, I felt love. Just plain love. There was a connection here that went much deeper than flesh and bone, bark and wood.

"Can I join you now?" asked Becky, smiling at the look of happiness on my face.

"Yep. You're gonna love this."

Becky stepped up quickly, obviously anxious to feel the sensation again. She wrapped her arms around the tree, making sure to touch my arms as well. Her face radiated joy as soon as we were linked. "Oh my goodness, this is nice - different, but nice. This is a younger tree, I can tell."

She was right. The feelings were younger somehow. The bigger, older tree had given us something just as wonderful, but more ancient, more mature. It was impossible to describe with words - I couldn't even think about it properly in my own head.

"What the hell are you guys doing?" Spike's smiling voice penetrated our euphoria. "Are you hugging that tree? What ... did I take a wrong turn somewhere? Am I in Berkeley?"

We broke away from the tree, smiling nervously as if we'd been caught doing something we shouldn't have been doing.

"Yep, just thanking the tree for some toilet paper is all," I said, trying to brush him and his suspicions off with an overly casual tone.

Spike nodded his head in appreciation. "Well, that's just the polite thing to do, isn't it?" He smiled right at me with those damn teeth of his, and I was glad to feel the familiar sparks warming my insides. This time I didn't see the blood smear image generated by memories of that awful vampire creature thing.

I smiled back, still feeling the tree's energy and now basking in Spike's sexual vibe.

He moved a little closer to me than he normally did.

I forgot Becky was there entirely.

"I never took you for a tree hugger." He was still smiling, only now it was down at me; we were so close I was practically under him. I had never realized before that he was this much taller than me.

I could feel my face starting to burn. "You are going to set me on fire one of these days, you know that?" Holy shit, did that just come out of my mouth? What the hell was wrong with me? I looked back at the tree for a second. That damn thing had loosened my tongue or something. Shitshitshit.

Spike looked amused. "Is that so? I think I'd like to see that - so long as it isn't actual flames you're talking about."

I stepped back to get some breathing room, suddenly very nervous. "Um, yeah ... I mean, no ... not actual flames. Not a fire. Not ... shit, never mind. We need to get back." I stepped around him and walked briskly towards the camp. I didn't look back to see if he was following.

Becky, who had observed the whole embarrassing interaction, ran to catch up to me. She had a sly grin on her giddy little face. "What was that all about?"

I hit her arm with the back of my hand. "Nothing, shut up."

She chanted in a singsong voice, very quietly, "Somebody likes Spiiiiike, somebody likes Spiiiiike."

"Seriously, Becky, what? Are you in second grade? Shut up before someone hears you."

"Don't worry, Jayne, your secret is safe with me ... I mean, your secrets are safe with me." She smiled at me conspiratorially and winked.

I couldn't help but smile back. She was the first girl friend I'd had in a long time. Hopefully we wouldn't die in this forest before we could go shopping, talk about boys, or do whatever it is that girl friends do together.

Chapter Sixteen

By the time we reached the others, they were standing there with backpacks on, waiting impatiently for us to leave for the first waypoint.

"That has to be the longest pee break in history," said Finn, shaking his head as he walked towards Jared. "Women ... "

"Come on, everyone, let's get going," said Jared, going with Finn back towards the path leading out of the clearing. Chase followed them. Spike came from behind, jogging to catch up to the guys. Becky was just in front of Tony and me.

"Did you all come up with a plan of action?" I asked, coming up next to Tony.

"Yep. Jared thinks he knows where we are in relation to the first waypoint. He found a river last night, and it's not far from here. All we have to do is follow it and we'll come to the waypoint."

I walked and pulled my map out at the same time. "Did you look at the map yourself?"

Tony shrugged. "Nope, I just watched Jared do it."

"Were you looking over his shoulder?"

"No, should I have?"

I frowned at him, scolding him silently. "Yes. Don't you think we should know where we're going instead of just blindly following him?"

Tony sighed loudly. "Not really."

"Tony, are we still a team here or what?" It was time for him to stop messing around and man-up. I wasn't just going to start going somewhere in these spooky woods without knowing where.

"Yes, Jayne, we're still a team."

"Then help me figure this stupid map out while we walk."

I folded it down, with Tony's help, into a manageable size, but I gave up trying to figure out where we were within thirty seconds. Tony took over, since he was much better at directions than me. I watched as a frown spread across his face.

"What?" I asked.

"I don't know, it's just ... "

"Just what?"

"It's just ... well, it seems like Jared's not going in the most efficient direction."

"Not efficient? In what way?"

"Well, he's headed towards this water, see?"

He tried to show me, but I tripped over his big feet and almost went down. Walking and reading a map is just a recipe for disaster as far as I was concerned. "Don't show me, just tell me."

"Well, he's headed towards the water, but that's kind of a roundabout way of doing it. We could cut off over here to the right and save ourselves at least an hour - probably more."

"Let's do it, then."

Tony folded the map down smaller, intending to put it away. "No, that's okay. This way's fine, too."

I put my hand on Tony's shoulder stopping him. "Tony, just because Jared says it's the way to go, doesn't mean it is the way we're going to go. We need to get to those waypoints and get the hell outta here, know what I mean?"

Tony was quiet for a minute, thinking.

The others continued walking, oblivious to our conversation.

"Just tell me what your problem is with Jared, before I decide what to do."

"It's just a feeling I have, based on looks he exchanged with Dardennes. And his disappearing act last night, and his basic attitude. Don't you think it's a little suspicious that Jared's the one who somehow got all of us together? And then all of a sudden we're in this study together, and magically the few other people in that meeting room, the ones he didn't pick up somewhere, were not accepted? It just makes me uncomfortable, that's all. And I'd rather just depend on you and me to get out of here. There's no one I trust more to have my back than you, Tones."

He pursed his lips a few seconds before nodding and saying, "Jayne, I know you can be kinda crazy sometimes, but I also know you're pretty perceptive. You see and sense things that I don't. And there's no one I trust more to have my back than you, so if you want to split off from these guys, then I'll do it. I just keep thinking about that vampire thing from last night. We might have a better chance of surviving something like that if we're in a group."

"I thought about that, too; but I also know that as a big group, we'll attract more attention. It's impossible for seven people to move through the forest quietly. Maybe with it being just two or three of us, it wouldn't be so loud."

"Three?"

I shrugged. "I thought maybe Becky might go with us, I don't know."

"Fine, come on. Let's at least tell them we're going a different way. She can choose to come or not. Maybe Spike will want to come with us, too," Tony said that a little too casually.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothin'."

"Nothin', my ass. What was that supposed to mean?"

Tony smiled. "I see how you nearly pass out every time he smiles at you. You think I can't sense that heart attack you get every time he's around? And now that we're on the subject, what the heck happened with you and Becky in the woods? If I didn't know you any better I'd say you had some sort of bi-awakening moment out there. You were feeling just too ... I don't know ... dreamy or something."

I whacked him on the arm. "I didn't have a 'bi-awakening moment' at all, don't be an idiot. I just so happened to have discovered the joy of tree-hugging, and it made me happy. And Spike has ... well, let's just say he has a nice smile. It makes me feel tingly all over."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Spare me. And what do you mean 'tree hugging'?"

"I'll show you later. Let's go tell those guys we're going the other direction."

***

Not surprisingly, the group was less than thrilled about our decision to go a different way. Becky gave me a stern look, but kept my secrets. Chase just stared at us for a second and then looked back in the direction they had been heading before we stopped them. Spike just looked at the ground, not saying anything.

"Now why in the sam hill would you wanna split up like that?" asked Finn.

"The way we're going is shorter," I explained. "Anyone who wants to join us is welcome. Becky?"

She shook her head. "No thanks, guys. I appreciate the offer, but I'm gonna stick with Jared and them."

"Suit yourselves. Guess we'll see you at the finish line," I said, not surprised that Becky had turned us down. She was totally Team Jared.

Tony stayed silent; he didn't like conflict.

"Just be careful, guys," said Jared, seemingly resigned to the fact that he was losing members of his crew.

"Yeah, Jayne, be careful," said Spike, for once not smiling.

"You too." Of all of them, he was the one I hated leaving behind the most. We parted ways, them continuing their roundabout towards the water, Tony and I angling off to the right, and all of us quickly losing sight of each other.

Tony took the lead, and neither of us said anything for a while. Now that we were alone, I was able to fully appreciate the immensity of the forest and it made me question the folly of my plan to be alone. It was probably too late, though, to admit I wished we had more people around us. Tony would kill me.

"It's kinda beautiful and spooky out here, all at the same time," said Tony softly.

I could see what he meant. The sunlight filtered through the treetops, narrow beams shooting like white lasers to the forest floor, lighting up dust motes that floated lazily, aimless in the air around us. The beating wings of a bird moving from tree to tree and the occasional falling leaf added to the whispering of the breeze that brushed past us on its way through to somewhere else.

The whispering sound got louder ... and louder still. I soon realized that it was actual whispering and not the metaphorical stuff I was hearing.

"Psst. Hello there! You there! Hello!"

"Tony ... did you hear that?"

"Wasn't that you?"

"No, it wasn't me, you dope. Where's it coming from?"

We stopped and listened intently. The forest was denser ahead. I moved closer to Tony as he stepped back, getting nearer to me. I slowly eased my backpack off my shoulder and unzipped it, pulling my sharpened stick from inside.

I whispered as softly as I could, my lips pressed against Tony's ear, "Get your fucking axe out and be ready to chop off some vampire heads."

Before Tony could move, we heard the voice again - this time not whispering, but talking softly.

"Hello! Hello ... you there."

It was coming from behind some bushes off to our right now. There, a fallen tree had created a fertile place for smaller trees and ivy to grow up over it, making a nice shelter for whoever or whatever was calling to us.

"Can you see who it is?" asked Tony out of the side of his mouth.

"No, can you?"

"No."

"Who are ye talkin' aboot?" said the voice, just at my elbow.

"HOLY SHIT ON A FUCKING STICK!" I yelled, jumping as far to my left as I could, brandishing my weapon out in front of me.

Tony yelped like a girl, simultaneously wrestling with his backpack, trying to get it open, and high-step running about five feet ahead, before spinning around to face whatever was there next to us.

I crouched down in a fighting stance, or the closest approximation of a fighting stance that I could come up with, ready to slay the vampire demon I imagined coming for us, its teeth dripping with blood - probably Becky's blood because she was the slowest, weakest one of the herd.

But boy was I surprised when it finally made its appearance.

"What the hell?" I stood up, my head tilting to the side in confusion.

Tony straightened up, looking at me and then back at our visitor - our two-foot-tall visitor with bubbly, lumpy-looking skin, wearing a plaid kilt-looking thing and brown moccasins.

"Who are you?" Tony asked.

"Who?"

"What do you mean, 'who'? You."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"Ye want to know who I be?"

I'd had enough of this Who's on First crap. "Listen, little troll ... who are you and what the hell are you doing scaring the shit out of us like that?"

"I beg yer pardon, human girl, but I'm not a troll and I doan appreciate the insult, I can tell ye that, oh righty. Ye know, in me day, we had respect. Simple respect. A body could walk through the forest, mindin' his own business, and if he happened to cross paths with someone, well, ye could be sure that the least they would do is say hello and exchange some pleasantries. But nooo ... "

And the creature carried on, and on, and on in its Scottish or Irish accent, I couldn't tell which, until I was ready to knock it over the head with my stick. I sidled over to Tony who was standing there, his backpack hanging forgotten by his side, staring at the creature with his mouth open. I nudged him just to be sure he wasn't in some sort of trance.

"What the heck is it?" he asked me, his eyes not leaving the spectacle before us.

The creature continued, oblivious to our conversation, "What's so hard about saying hello I'd like ta know? ... "

"Well, not a troll, apparently. Let's just walk away, real slow. I don't want to get it angry. But get your axe out just in case."

Tony looked down at his bag and reached in to get the axe, taking his eyes off the thing in front of us.

I saw the creature's eyes sparkle as the axe made its appearance from the bag. That seemed to finally get it to shut up for a second.

"Well, well, well ... what have we here? The axe of the Hawthorne if I not be mistaken ... " The lumpy dwarf moved toward us, eyes on the axe, hand reaching out as if to touch it.

"Not so fast, little non-troll," I said, holding my stick out at it, point forward.

The little thing stopped, eyes growing wide as it stared at my scary little stick.

"And the Dark of Blackthorn too. Oh me goodness, this is a verra interesting day in the Green Forest fer sure, a verra interesting day, indeed." Its eyes were glittering with excitement, and it hopped from one foot to the other like it had ants in its pants - except that it wasn't wearing pants.

Oh please, God, let that thing be wearing underwear under that kilt. I wasn't sure if the creature's enthusiasm was a very good thing, or a very, very bad thing, so I decided to err on the side of caution.

"Yes, it is! The ... um ... Dark pointy stick ... of Blackthorn, or whatever. And the axe of Hawthorne too! So stand back, trolly non-troll, or feel their sharp edges!" I brandished my stick a little to give my threat more oomph, nudging Tony with my elbow.

He held the axe up a little, but not very enthusiastically.

I was going to have to talk to him about that later. First impressions were everything, after all. Regardless, it seemed to do the trick.

The creature held up its hands in surrender. "Oh, goodness me, no, please ... I mean ye no harm - absolutely no harm atall, I can assure ye of that. Lucky for ye I've stumbled upon ye here, in the middle of nowhere, totally by happenstance. Yes, very lucky for ye, indeedy do!"

She, or he - I wasn't sure whether the thing was a male or female, even with the skirt, since it could possibly be a man-kilt - was all smiles now.

"Yer lost, I can see that. And I will help ye find yer way." It put its little lumpy hands together in front of its chest, as if in prayer. "So tell me, where would ye like to go?"

Tony and I stood together in silence for a moment, letting our brains process what we were seeing. Not a vampire, for sure. But not a dwarf or a midget either. Something smaller and lumpier. And not a troll. I didn't trust it, and I was sure Tony didn't either, even though we hadn't yet said a word to each other. Damn, how I wished that vibe reader thing Tony possessed was a two-way connection.

Tony was the first one to get a grip. "Let's start with you. Who and what are you?"

"Oh, human boy, I'm so verra sorry for not having introduced meself to ye earlier. How incredibly rude that were of me. And there I be, berating ye for yer lack of manners when I so clearly could use a few of me own. Ye know, that's the problem with the world today, so many fa ... people, just runnin' about their business, so self-centered, not worryin' about anyone but therselves. No time fer even the most basic pleasantries, the most basic manners, like a proper introduction ... "

My brain was spinning and I could feel a headache coming on. This was why I hated babysitting. This thing reminded me of a little kid - talking, talking, talking, blah, blah, blah ...

Tony cleared his throat loudly, interrupting the creature. "You were telling us your name and what you are ... ?"

"Ah, yes, sorry, got away from meself there. Me name, young boy, is Gilly, and I be a gnome of the Gar." It took a deep bow, lowering its head almost to the forest floor. It really didn't have that far to go, but it was still impressive.

I was glad we weren't behind the gnome at that moment because I was pretty sure its dress or kilt went right up in the back, revealing a lot more gnome than I was ready to see today. Or ever.

"Hi, Gilly," said Tony politely.

Sometimes that kid scared me with his innocence. "Gilly, why aren't you wearing a pointed red hat and red boots?" I asked.

Gilly frowned at me. "Ya know, stereotyping be a sign of limited intelligence. I might have asked ye where yer lower back tattoo be or yer lip piercing, but I didna." It folded its short little arms and cocked out one funky-shaped hip in a defiant stance.

You've got to be fucking kidding me. I decided after that move that Gilly must be a girl gnome. Only chicks and seriously bitchy gay guys had that particular brand of sass. Is there such a thing as a gay gnome? Hmmm ...

"Jaaayne. I know what you're thinking, but don't," said Tony.

"Fine," I said, frustrated that I couldn't mess with the gnome. I don't know a lot about these creatures, other than the fact that they are usually ceramic and hanging out in gardens, but I was pretty sure a gnome in a dress was hilarious in any social circle, human or otherwise.

I sighed. "Okay, Gilly the gnome, we are trying to reach a waypoint and you probably don't even know what that is, so I'm wasting my time here, but ... "

"Well, of course I be knowin' what a waypoint be. There be many of them here in the Green Forest. Four in fact." Gilly was looking at her fingernails, which I now noticed were disgustingly dirty. She started chewing on one of them, which was totally gag-worthy.

I was glad I'd only had a cracker for breakfast. Oh shit, do not think about how nails are like crackers, do not think about how nails are like crackers ... Now I was feeling sick to my stomach.

Tony nudged me, getting me back on track.

Holy bat balls, the little lumpy chick knows where to go! "Well, we'd like directions to the first waypoint," I said.

"And which one would that be?" asked Gilly.

"The one on my map." I struggled to pull it out of my bag. "Right here, at this spot." I held the map out to her, stretching my arm as far as it would go, a little worried about the dirty gnome coming too near.

Gilly arched her eyebrows, widening her eyes, but she didn't come any closer. Her eyes kept darting to my stick.

I put it behind my back, tucking it in my waistband, realizing it worried her. I didn't know why. The worst it could do was scratch her, and her skin looked so lumpy, I doubted it would even penetrate. Ugh, it was like looking at flesh-colored toad skin.

After the stick was out of sight, Gilly moved forward cautiously, snatching the map from my hand and stepping back.

"Hey, that's my map!" I said.

A voice came from behind us. "Doan give 'er that map! She'll ruin it fer certain!"

Tony spun around to see who it was.

I glanced back but then returned my gaze to Gilly. I didn't want her taking off with my map. "What the hell is it now, Tony?"

"It's another gnome. I think this one is a guy."

"Eh? What'd ye say there, human boy?"

I could hear the leaves rustle as the second gnome approached. "Ye humans are all the same. Ye come in here, tramping around, making all kinds o' noise, disturbing the peace - doan even have the common decency to introduce yerselves. And now look - ye've gone and given yer map to Gilly here. I hope it wasn't important to ye, because she'll surely never get it back to ye in one piece."

"Shut yer yap, ye old turkey waddle. I'm just takin' a look to see which waypoint they want."

"Well, I'd think that'd be obvious. They'd be wantin' the one by the High River of course, it be the closest one."

"How do ye know they didna want to go to the one in the Dell, eh? That one's the best one by me reckonin'. I'd go to that one if it be me."

"Well it's not ye, is it then? It's these two young humans." The second gnome turned to us now. "And what would two humans be wantin' with the waypoints, anyway, eh? And how did ye get here then? Who sent ye?"

The first gnome chimed in. "There ye go again, giving orders, expectin' people to just jump when ye haven't even bothered to introduce yerself. You know, that's the problem with fa...forest dwellers these days, don't even bother with the niceties anymore ... "

The headache was coming back. "Holy horseshit-on-a-stick, Tony, these gnomes are nuts." They couldn't even hear me, they were arguing back and forth so much about common courtesy and manners. What was it with these gnomes and their manners, anyway?

"Excuse me, sir and ma'am!" said Tony loudly, immediately causing the gnomes to stop talking and give him their full attention.

He started with a small, awkward bow, hurriedly tucking his axe back in his bag. "My friend Jayne and I - I am Tony by the way, it's nice to meet you - would like to humbly beg you for directions to the waypoint by the High River. And if it wouldn't be too much trouble, further directions to the waypoint in the Dell. Please accept my humblest apologies for my late and hasty introduction." He bowed again when he finished.

I stared at him, incredulous. He sounded like he was reading out of a book for the Knights of the Round Table or something.

He nudged me in the side and said, "Bow!" out of the corner of his mouth.

I dropped down into the stupidest looking curtsy imaginable.

Both gnomes instantly reacted. Huge smiles broke out across their faces. I tried not to grimace at the dirt between their disgusting, pointy teeth. They seemed so happy, almost to the point of embarrassment. I saw a faint pink color rising up on their lumpy facial skin, visible even beneath the dirt streaks.

The second gnome was the first to speak. "Sir Tony, it would be our pleasure to direct ye as ye wish. I, Gander, and me mate Gilly, will happily tell ye which way to go. First, ye must know that the waypoints are located equally distant from one t'other in the Green Forest, in the four different territories of the fae folk. Ye and yer lady friend Jayne, of course, be in the territory of the Gar. Welcome to our home." They both bowed. Once again, I was damn glad I wasn't standing behind Gilly and her short skirt.

"The best way to get to the waypoint of the Gar, located at the High River, be to go that direction for seventy-two oaks and fifteen maples, making certain to continue in a south-westerly direction." He finished with a self-satisfied grin and a sharp nod of affirmation.

"Please allow me to correct me mate Gander's directions just a wee bit so that ye will successfully reach yer destination. Ye must, in fact, go only sixty-one oaks, and fourteen maples, followed by six birch saplings, of course in a south-south west direction. Then fer certain, ye will be at the waypoint of the Gar."

Gander got a grumpy look on his face and turned to look crossly at Gilly. "Dear Gilly, ye know ye be hopelessly incorrect, as usual. Ye know direction is not yer strong suit. Now, if one needs to find a hidden tulip bulb, lost in the Spring frost, or the bones of a woodchuck, then yer the one to call fer certain. But when it comes to finding one's way in the Green Forest, I'm the gnome all the Gar can depend on." He jabbed himself in the chest with his tiny, stubby thumb.

Gilly rounded on Gander with her next volley of arguments against his sense of direction, raising her finger to wag it in his face.

Deciding we didn't need to stick around for this lover's quarrel, I said, "Tony, I think it's time we got the hell out of here."

"I agree. Can you get your map?"

Gilly, in her excitement, had dropped it. It was lying on the ground a few feet away from her. I sidestepped over, bending down slowly to pick it up. I walked backwards towards Tony once I had it in hand, and he took my arm to guide me slowly away from the gnomes. They looked harmless enough, but their teeth were sharp and dirty, and I knew for sure I'd want to vomit if either one of them touched me with their creepy, lumpy hands. As soon as we were out of sight of the gnomes, we took off jogging.

"Are we following their directions?" I asked, breathlessly.

"Yes. They both said southwest-ish, so that's the way I'm going."

"How do you know?"

"I don't. I'm going the way they pointed."

I didn't count, but I was willing to bet that as we arrived at the waypoint of the Gar, we had passed about sixty-one oaks and a couple of maples. Those two gnomes made a good couple.

Chapter Seventeen

The waypoint of the Gar rose up out of the ground in front of us. It was an obelisk landmark of granite or some other heavy-looking gray stone, topped with a metal spike that looked like it was made of brass. It couldn't be brass though, I decided, because it was so shiny. Real brass would have been dark and weathered, being exposed to the elements like this one was. At my dad's house, the one he lived in with my stepmother, he had a brass bell outside the front door. My anal, OCD stepmother would polish it every Sunday to keep it looking perfect, because if she missed a week it would start to turn a funky, mottled brown.

The waypoint was in the center of a small clearing. Where the forest had been full of the sounds of birdcalls, and bird flight, leaves rustling and wind blowing - the space surrounding the waypoint was totally silent. It didn't feel right talking out loud when we arrived, so I whispered.

"We made it, Tones!"

"Yes, we did." He grabbed my shoulder in a side hug.

"Give me one of your flags," I said, reaching into my bag to grab one of mine.

Tony handed me a strip of green cloth.

We walked up to the obelisk together, looking for a place to tie our flags - one green and one purple. The entire surface was smooth and shiny. There was nothing to tie the flags to that I could see.

"Where are we supposed to put these friggin' things?" I asked, looking around.

Tony didn't say anything; he just pointed.

Above my head and on the side of the obelisk facing away from me was a thick iron ring sticking out. It was rusted, and some of the mottled orange color had moved to the stone where the ring was embedded. It looked really, really old. Attached to the ring were the tattered remains of two flags - one yellow and one pink. Pink wasn't assigned to anyone in our group, but yellow was. Yellow was Jared's color. But these flags looked like they'd been there for a while, faded from the sun and shaggy, their woven threads beginning to unravel.

"Tony," I asked in hushed tones, "do you see what I see?"

"Two flags. Old ones from the looks of it."

"Yeah, but did you notice the colors?"

"Pink and yellow. So?"

"So yellow is Jared's color. And these have been here a while."

"Just because it's yellow doesn't mean Jared put it there."

"But what if Jared has been here before? And this is from another test he did ...earlier?"

"Jayne, you're being paranoid. We went over to that table with Niles and picked up bags randomly. I could have just as easily grabbed the yellow flags as the green ones."

"Yeah, but isn't it strange that you, Tony Green, got green flags, and I got my favorite color, purple? Don't you find that pretty coincidental? Plus with all of Jared's weirdness going on and ... "

"Enough, Jayne! You're starting to scare me with your conspiracy theories. And I don't mean 'scare me' as in I'm starting to believe you - I mean 'scare me' as in I'm starting to doubt your sanity. Just let it go, okay?"

I could tell he was irritated with me, so I dropped it. But only for now. I was still going to be figuring this out and watching for signs of Jared's previous participation.

I slowly reached up and tied our flags to the pole, touching the others gently with my fingertips as my hand came back down. I wondered who had put the pink flag there, and where he or she was now. I sent up a silent prayer that this mystery person was still alive and happily drinking hot chocolate in front of a crackling fire at home with a mom, dad, and a family pet.

Tony interrupted my nonsensical daydream with, "I guess at the very least, this means we're not the first ones here. This isn't the first test they've had, I mean."

"I guess not."

"I wonder where the flag owners are now."

"Stop reading my mind, Tony."

"I wasn't!" he said, a little guiltily.

I shot him a look.

"Okay, fine, I was feeling you a little."

"Feeling me sounds kinda creepy, don't you think?"

"Okay, I was vibing you then."

"Vibing me? Okay, well, stop vibing me, then."

"I would if I could, believe me."

"Yes, I know, you've already told me how nutty it is in there - in my head."

"Not nutty, that's not the right word. It's just ... intense. Sometimes I just can't keep up and I get a little lost. Anyone watching me would probably think I was having a major brain fart or something."

I laughed, reaching over to hug him tight. "Tony, thank you for saying brain fart. That really brought me down to Earth."

He smiled. "Down here on Earth where there are vampires and gnomes, you mean?"

"Shit, don't remind me." I pulled my map out of my bag again. "Tell me where we need to go next, would ya?"

We looked over the map together. The next waypoint was directly south of this one. The color on the map was a slightly darker green through the area where we had to travel, so we assumed that meant the forest would be thicker, which seemed hardly possible. I wondered if the trees there gave hugs.

"What?" asked Tony.

"What, what?"

"What were you just thinking about?"

"Why?"

"I was accidentally vibing you ... sorry. It's just that I was feeling something like when you and Becky were messing around in the forest earlier."

I smacked Tony on the back of the head.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"For saying I was messing around with Becky. We were peeing, that's all."

"Well, then you get way too much pleasure out of peeing with another girl." He ducked, moving his head out of my reach and wagging his finger at me. "No hitting!"

"If you keep hinting around that I'm hot for Becky, I'm gonna do more than hit you, brain fart boy."

"Well, tell me what that vibe was all about, then. You seemed so happy and excited."

I gave him a warning look.

"Not excited in a sexual way - just really happy."

I sighed. I didn't like keeping secrets from Tony, and it wasn't like I was intentionally not telling him. It just seemed too weird to talk about. I decided that it would just be better to show him.

"Come on, follow me."

"Why won't you tell me?"

"I'm going to show you, not tell you. It'll be better that way."

Tony got a gleam in his eye. "Are we going to play doctor?" He jumped out of the way before I could smack him again, yelling, "Missed me!"

I shook my head. "What's gotten into you, Tony? You're not normally this hyper."

"I don't know. The joy of being alive, I guess. Where are we going, anyway?"

"Just farther into the trees."

We went away from the clearing, over to an area where the trees were bigger. They were close together too, blocking out most of the sun. A little light filtered through, but not much.

I stopped, surveying the area around us. "Pick a tree."

"Pick a tree? What, are we going to pee together?"

I sighed. "Just say that one more time and see what happens."

"Okay, okay, fine." Tony looked around. "Should I pick something special, like a certain kind of tree?"

"I don't think so. Just pick one and we'll see."

"That one." Tony was pointing to a giant reddish-brown tree. It was nearly twice as big as the first one Becky and I had touched.

I looked at its base and then slowly ran my eyes up to the top of it. I actually couldn't see it very well, since it was so obscured by its own branches and those of the nearby trees. I walked over, urging Tony to follow. "Come on, we have to touch the tree."

I arrived at the trunk and put my feet on either side of a huge root that was running from the tree quite a distance across the forest floor. "Stand here next to me and put your arms out, towards the tree."

Tony didn't say anything, he just stepped up to the tree and stood where I told him to, stretching his arms out. I loved that he just followed my directions without question. It showed me how much he trusted me, even when I was being weird. That said a lot about our friendship.

"Now, put your arms out to the side, like this. We're going to hug the tree."

Tony looked at me like I was crazy. "Hug the tree? That's what this is all about?"

"Shut up and hug the damn tree, Tony. Maybe in a second it will all make sense."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Here goes nothin'." He leaned towards the tree, steadying himself with his hands and then stretching his arms out to lay them horizontally against the bark. "Now what?"

"Just wait a second." I put my hands out to steady myself against the trunk, getting ready to lay my body against it. Already I could feel the energy, with only my hands touching. "Yeah, I think this is going to work."

"What's going to work? Come on, Jayne, I feel stupid standing here like this."

I leaned into the tree, moving my arms out laterally into hugging position. I stretched out my right arm so it rested on top of Tony's while also touching the tree. I turned towards Tony's so I could see his reaction.

His face instantly lit up as soon as we connected. "What the heck ... ?"

I smiled. "This is what Becky and I were doing in the forest."

Tony closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. "My god, the feelings ... Can you feel that? It's ... it's ... unbelievable."

"I know." There was nothing else to say. This tree was ancient. I didn't have to see its size to know this. It had been here a very, very long time. There was a sense of peace, a deep understanding, flowing through our connection. Strength. A certain knowledge that whatever was happening right now was just a moment of time in an infinite amount of time. Years, centuries, eons would come and go, and this tree would still be here, standing sentinel. Wars would be fought and won or lost, and this tree would still be here. Silently. Waiting and watching.

Through this connection, I was able to realize for the first time that everything in this forest was linked. The trees were connected to each other, to the land, to the things that walked the forest floor and flew through the air. The memories were all still here. I couldn't see them like pictures; I only got the sense that anything that happened here, stayed here as shadows. And there were lots of shadows in this forest.

Something was niggling the back of my mind. Something was there, wanting me to pay attention. But then Tony began speaking, and I lost it.

"I feel like I'm being rocked in a rocking chair by a grandma I never had. This is just ... so incredible. No wonder you were vibing all that happiness. I'm, like, on cloud nine right now." He smiled contentedly at me, and for the first time, I realized how truly beautiful my friend Tony was on the outside. I've always known about his inner beauty, but with the clothes and the glasses and everything, his outer gorgeousness was sometimes too easily hidden.

"You're really beautiful, you know that, Tones?"

"I was just thinking the same thing about you."

We both smiled.

"What are two gorgeous bombshells like us doing out here in this fucked up forest full of messed up creatures, anyway?" I asked.

"I don't know. But as much as I'd like to stay here and hug this tree all day, I think we really need to get going to that other waypoint." Tony broke the connection, pulling away from the tree and standing up straight. The light on his face faded out and he became regular old, serious Tony again.

I sent a big thank you up to the tree as best I could, hoping it could read my mind and feel the gratitude I was trying to transfer through my arms, before standing to join Tony.

"When do you think the others will get to the first waypoint?" I asked. I had half expected them to show up while we were there.

"I don't know. From the look of the map, it seems like maybe an hour or two after us. We were just lucky to have met those gnome things."

"Yeah, well at least they didn't try to eat us."

"Did you see their teeth?" Tony asked, shivering at the memory. He was walking through the forest again, glancing back to make sure I was following.

"Yeah, disgusting. I've never seen anything like that before. Makes me want to keep Mister Biggles out of the garden forever." Mister Biggles is my old cat who loves to go and lay right smack in the middle of my mom's flowers. It made her crazy because his fat butt always squashed them, but it made me laugh. Thinking about one of those lumpy gnomes with their dirty, sharp teeth coming up from behind and ... ew. Poor Mister Biggles.  "Should I call my mom and tell her to keep Mister Biggles in the house?" I was only half-joking. I had to believe that as much of a pain in the ass as I was to my mom, she was worrying about me now.

"No. First of all, you don't have a cell phone, so you can't; and second, all you'd do is freak her out. This forest isn't normal. There are no gnomes in Florida or we would have seen them or signs of them - or someone would have. This is some ... enchanted place or something. Once we're out of here, life will go back to normal."

"Enchanted forest, eh?" I'd bet old Walt Disney had never envisioned this kind of shit going on in his enchanted forests. Maybe a few dwarves, sure. But nasty-toothed gnomes? Vampires? No, I think not. "Face it, Tones. Life is never going to go back to normal after this. We've seen something we shouldn't have. This forest. The Green ... this connection with the trees. It's alive, and I don't mean alive like just living. It's alive like aware alive. I don't know if I'll ever be able to look at the world the same way again." The Green seemed like the perfect name for this weirdness around us and the energy that I was able to connect to.

"You're probably right. I'm not sure that we fully appreciate what's going on here right now, but I'm not in the best frame of mind to figure it all out. I just want to focus on finishing this thing and getting out of here. Must be my survival instincts." He took his axe out of his bag as he walked along.

"Why do you have your axe out?"

"I think it's a good idea to keep it handy. When those gnomes showed up, I was totally unprepared. We're just lucky they weren't killer gnomes, otherwise I would have been dead meat."

"Well, you would have had some nasty bites on your ankles for sure, but I'm not so sure about the dead part."

"I'll bet even an ankle bite from those little things would be deadly. Those teeth ... " Tony shuddered.

"Yeah, you're right. It would be like being bitten by that dragon thing. What was it called? We saw it on Animal Planet one time."

"The Komodo Dragon - bites its prey and then leaves it, tracking it for days until the bacteria poison in its saliva destroys the prey's blood and eventually kills it. Then the dragon moves in and ... "

" ... munches on the easy prey."

"Exactly. Easy prey." Tony held up his axe. "I'm not going to be easy prey for the rest of this trip. Anyone who gets in my way ... " SWOOSH!

Tony swung the axe in the air. I was glad I was far behind him at that particular moment, because the axe was all messed up. A sound filled the space around us, like a humming, and a blue shadow hung in the air where the axe had just been. It was like a laser light show or something, only with less defined lights and more afterglow.

"What the fuck was that, Tony?"

Tony was staring in amazement at the blue streak that was slowly dissipating. "I have no idea."

"Do it again!" I urged, unable to keep the glee out of my voice.

Tony swung the axe again, but nothing happened. He lifted it up towards his face, staring at it curiously. "Did I imagine something happening last time?"

"Not unless it was mass hysteria and I'm imagining crazy shit too. Try again."

Tony swung it a third time. Nothing happened.

"What did you do different?"

"Nothing I'm aware of."

"Look at your feet. Are they in a different position?"

"No, I haven't moved."

"Did you swing it softer? Or harder?"

"Nope."

"What were we talking about before you swung it last time?"

"I was saying that I wasn't going to be easy prey anymore."

"Okay, say that again and then swing it. Maybe there's a magic word in there."

Tony held the axe above his shoulder and to the right. "I'm not going to be easy prey anymore." He swung the axe, and I thought I heard a very slight hum.

"Did you see that?!" asked Tony, excitedly.

"Was that some blue there?" I asked.

"I think I saw some. Not as much or as bright, but some."

"That is so cool." I pulled my stick out of my bag. "Maybe I have a lightsaber too." I swung mine around, but nothing happened. I gave Tony's magic words a try. "I'm not gonna be easy prey!" I swished the stick out in front of me, back and forth, giving some high-quality forward jabs too for good measure.

Nothing happened.

"Oh well ... figures. Finn gets vampire killer arrows, you get a lightsaber axe, and I get a stick. That Dardennes guy had it in for me from the start."

"Jayne ... "

"Come on, Tony, you know it's true. When it was time to pick weapons Niles put Becky in front of me. Becky. She's, like, half my size."

"Well, that's a bit of an exaggeration."

"You know what I mean."

"No, you're right. She's definitely smaller than you, and we were supposed to be picking by size." He shrugged. "Your weapon will be valuable for something, I'm sure."

"Yeah, for what? Digging up mushrooms?"

Tony laughed at my disgust. "Just keep it handy. I don't think we'll be lucky enough to get through to the fourth waypoint without meeting anything else along the way. A sharp stick is better than nothing."

He was right. I took his advice and kept my stick out. I continued to wave it around as we walked towards our next destination, trying different techniques to see if I could wake it up, but nothing worked. Stupid stick. Those gnomes had called it Dark Blackthorn or something, though, so I held out some hope for my little friend, the sharp stick. It did look like a giant thorn - a really giant one. I decided to call it Blackie. It was black - a weird color for wood - plus I had a little black Pomeranian once, creatively named Blackie. He was tiny but he was badass. The postman refused to come onto our property because of old badass Blackie. Best dog ever. He died when I was twelve, but I still remembered him fondly.

After walking for about an hour my stomach began growling. "I'm hungry. Can we stop for lunch?"

"Sure."

Tony stepped off the trail to go sit on a fallen tree.

I sat down next to him, and we opened up our bags, deciding to eat an actual meal this time since we were starving. We'd gotten one quarter of the way through this test and still had another full meal and most of the side bits remaining. I had one bottle of water left; Tony had one and a half. We could afford to splurge on the calories.

We had finished eating and were packing up our wrappers when we heard a sound. Tony grabbed my arm to stop me from moving. We both listened carefully to see if we could hear anything else.

The noise came again. It sounded like voices.

"Quick!" whispered Tony. "Get behind that root!"

The end of the fallen tree that we'd been sitting on was a huge root, taller than me. Piles of leaves and other branches had collected around it, making a small mountain of debris to hide behind.

Tony and I hunkered down, looking out between a crack in the cover, towards the direction of the voices. They were coming from the path we had been following.

Two figures appeared out of the dark tree shadows. One of them was Niles, wearing full cammo gear and carrying an axe very much like Tony's - only much bigger. Walking next to him was another dwarf, similarly dressed, but younger-looking. He was also carrying an axe, holding it in a deceptively casual way that told me he knew how to use it.

I looked at Tony and nodded at his axe. Tony glanced down and then nodded back at me. Apparently, Tony had the weapon of choice for commando dwarves around here.

Niles was talking. "They came this way for sure. They couldn't broadcast their trail any louder. Idiots. We'll make quick work of them if the others don't get to them first."

"What about the other humans?" asked the younger dwarf, practically running to keep up with Niles' longer stride. Even thinking that made me want to laugh, because I realized I had never seen truly funny until I saw that long dwarf stride.

Tony shot me a stern look, probably vibing my humor. He was right; the last thing we needed was two axe-wielding army dwarves up our asses. Even though they were little, they probably had low centers of gravity, and I didn't think Blackie would be any match against their weapons. I quickly choked down my hysteria, amazed at how quickly it went from inner laughter to abject fear.

They were soon gone from our immediate vicinity, but Tony and I stayed put, whispering so we wouldn't bring them back with further ineptitudes.

"Fuck! What should we do now?" I asked. This test had gone horribly, horribly wrong. We weren't being tested ... we were being hunted. And that was a whole other deal altogether. I was going to have to survive just so I could kill Dardennes when this was all over. The concept of life or death was way, way too far into the land of the unthinkable for me to even remotely consider right now, even though my rational mind knew it was my current reality. I tamped it down, shoving any distress I was feeling to the back of my head to panic about later.

"I'm not sure what we should do. I guess we can't keep going in that direction. They could stop and we'd come right up on them. And from what Niles said, it sounds like they're tracking us and so are other ... people, or dwarves, or whatever. Who the hell knows? Dammit!"

"Easy, Tony. Now's not the time to take up swearing. Your mother would be so very disappointed in you." I wiggled my eyebrows at him.

Tony shook his head impatiently. "Shush. We need a plan. Help me make one."

I put my hand on the root of the downed tree that we were hiding behind. I don't know what I was expecting, but I was a little surprised to feel something there - an energy. I grabbed Tony's hand to link him up with me.

"What's that?" he whispered.

"It's that tree energy, I think."

Tony frowned. "But this tree is dead."

"I don't think anything in this place is completely dead." The energy was faint and it didn't bring to mind anything in particular, but it was definitely sending something out to me - something I could feel. I looked around by my feet. What is the connection? Are they linking with me through the trees themselves? Or is the ground under my feet and my hands on the tree making some sort of circuit? I wished I had paid better attention in science class last year. We had made a circuit in our lab. Tony kicked ass with that stuff, but if I asked him about it now he'd probably get cranky. I should probably stop worrying about it so much and start figuring out how to get the hell out of here. I let the tree go so I could focus.

Tony had his map out and was trying to get an idea of where we were. He pointed to a spot that was about two inches from the second waypoint.

"I calculated, roughly, about how long it took us to get from the camp where we spent the night to where the gnomes were and where the first waypoint was. Based on that, I'd say we're here." He pointed to a spot in the middle of the darker green area.

I looked around me. It sure was green here. And dark. "Seems like it could be right." I wasn't good with directions, so that was the most help I could be; but Tony understood. He'd been lost with me at the wheel enough times back home.

Home. Mom. Mister Biggles. School. Safety. I'd never appreciated that stuff before. I had hated it all - well, except for Mister Biggles - but now I didn't have it anymore. Regret, I found, had a very bitter taste.

"Stop worrying about that crap. Just help me figure out how to get out of here," said Tony, frustrated.

I pushed him, silently admonishing him for vibing me.

"Come on," he prompted, folding the map up and putting it back in his bag. "We should go this way." He gestured behind us, into the darker areas of the forest.

"Are you sure? It looks really dark in there." No lie, I was pretty scared at this point. All the tree love had left me and now I was just feeling cold and alone - very alone, in a big place that had mean little bastards with bad attitudes running all around and carrying deadly sharp things. My grip on Blackie tightened as I followed behind Tony. "So what's the plan, then?"

"We're going to circle around a bit to the west and then angle back in when we think we're perpendicular to the waypoint."

"Do you think the others are okay?"

"Well, it doesn't look like Niles found them yet, based on what that other dwarfy guy said, so maybe they're fine."

I had to hope so. As much as I didn't trust Jared, I didn't want the others to be harmed just because they'd decided to stay with him and ditch us. It was better anyway - with all of them we would have been like a herd of elephants crashing through the trees. I was glad it was just Tony and me, although I was hoping really hard that I was going to see Spike again, and under better circumstances.

We walked for another hour, picking our way carefully across logs and branches and through brambles and other sharp pokey things. I had scratches all over my wrists, neck, and face. I was glad I had jeans on to protect my legs. My hoodie protected my arms for the most part, but I had pushed up the sleeves a bit because I was so hot. All this walking and climbing over shit was making me sweat.

"Are we there yet? How much longer?" I whined. This was like road trips I had taken with my parents when I was younger that seemed to go on forever.

"I think we should turn back east soon. Not yet, though. I'm not sure. I wish I could see above the trees."

I thought about this for a minute then came to an abrupt halt, grabbing Tony's sleeve. "Why don't we climb one?" Looking up, I could see that some of the trees would be good candidates. They had lots of branches.

Tony looked up too. "I was never much good at climbing trees. I panic when I get above ten feet."

"Shit. Me too. But I think we should try anyway."

Tony cinched up his backpack, making it tighter. "Fine. Let's do this. Which tree?"

I picked the one that had the most branches. It wasn't nearly as big as the one we'd hugged earlier. I walked over and put one hand on the trunk.

"Hello, Tree. We need to climb you to see above the forest. I don't want to hurt you or be disrespectful, but it's important." I tried to send my thoughts into the tree. I got only an answering glow back. I wasn't sure if it was a response, permission, or what - but it didn't feel angry or anything, so I figured we were good to go.

Tony just watched me, not saying anything. As soon as he saw me start climbing, he walked over to the tree too, putting his hands on its bark. "Hi, Tree. What she said. I'm ... uh ... gonna climb you too."

I was already a couple of levels up. "Did you feel it?"

He shook his head. "Nope." He grabbed the lowest branch and came up behind me.

I was touching the tree with various parts of my body, and I could feel its welcoming green glow going all through me. I'd never felt this as a kid, climbing trees. If I had, I probably never would have come down.

Tony was a few feet below me, his pace slowing.

"You okay down there?" I asked.

"Um ... getting a little nervous, actually." He looked up at me, sweat glistening on his upper lip and forehead.

"Just stay there. I'm fine. I'll go the rest of the way alone."

I was now up higher in this tree than I'd ever climbed in my life, which was kind of ironic, because as I've grown up, I've learned to have a greater appreciation for my mortality. When I was a kid, I never worried about falling and hurting myself or possibly dying - it never even crossed my mind. But now that I was older, I didn't climb trees anymore because I did worry about that kind of stuff. I fully appreciated at this moment what a bummer that is - how limiting it makes your life when you walk around always afraid something tragic could happen.

I reached a spot that didn't have any handy branches I could use to help me get to the next level. I stopped and looked around, trying to figure out what to do. I could see Tony's small form still below me but much farther away. I just needed to go another ten feet or so...

"What are you doing?" asked Tony.

"Trying to get higher. But I can't."

"Why not?"

"There aren't any branches nearby." Shitshitshit.

Then I remembered the leafy toilet paper incident. I bit my lip, looking around at the nearby trees. The one I was on didn't have any branches that could help me, but the tree next to mine had some really big ones up here - branches that, if they moved, could get me as high as I needed to go. Should I do it?

"Come on, hurry up!" said Tony as loudly as he dared.

I made my decision. I placed my arms around the tree trunk. The energy that had been tingling through my hands as I climbed was amplified a bit, now that more of me was making contact.

So, how does this work? I wondered. Do I ask in English? "Tree, move a branch for me so I can see higher."

Some branches nearby moved a bit, but it could have been from a breeze, it was so slight.

Okay, not English. French? No, that isn't going to work. All I could remember how to say was Je vais à la plage \- I'm going to the beach. Not helpful.

Okay, how about pictures? I closed my eyes and imagined in my head what I wanted the tree to do. My mind's eye saw one of the big nearby branches swinging over to where I was standing, positioning itself to hoist me up to the highest level of the tree I was latched onto. Then I pictured myself looking out over the treetops off to the east.

I was so busy picturing every little detail, I wasn't paying attention to what I was actually physically doing on the tree.

Tony's voice cut through my daydream. "Holy crap, Jayne, what are you doing?"

I opened my eyes. The branch that had been fifteen feet away from me had moved. The tree it belonged to was groaning, but the branch remained still, extended out directly in front of me. I tentatively put my foot out, left one first, onto the big branch of the larger tree, keeping my hands on the trunk of the smaller one. I realized then that I hadn't thought this out very well. I had nothing to grab hold of. I swallowed the panic that rose up and quickly closed my eyes again, imagining a second branch being there for my hands to hold onto. I opened my eyes in time to see it swinging over to join the first. As soon as it came close enough, I let go of the trunk and swiftly grabbed hold with a death grip, telling myself not to look down, no matter what.

"Jayne, don't do that! You're going to fall!"

"Shush, Tony! Don't upset the tree. I won't fall."

I could hear him muttering below me. "Upset the tree. Upset the tree? She's nuts, upset the tree ... "

Please lift me up, I asked the tree, showing it in my head what I wanted it to do.

It was like being on an elevator in the forest. The tree strained, lifting its two branches as high as they would go. I heard the groaning of the wood and then a cracking. Okay, stop! Hold me here for just a moment. It made it difficult to concentrate on anything else, this picturing stuff to communicate instead of talking. I kept closing my eyes to make it easier.

I quickly opened them to look around. I was now above most of the trees in the forest. The sun was barely shining, the clouds covering most of its brilliance. No wonder it's so dark down there. The forest seemed to stretch out forever in all directions. I couldn't see an end to it no matter which way I turned. "Fucking A," I said to no one in particular.

To the east and a bit south, I saw a break in the trees and what looked like a small sliver of something shiny peaking out. It must be the second waypoint. I strained my neck to see farther, hoping to see the third waypoint, but I couldn't. We must be too far away.

"Okay, tree, down we go." I pictured the big tree putting me back where I had been on the other one. Within seconds, the groaning and creaking began again, and I was transported over to the smaller tree. As the branch started to move to its original position, I reached out and touched it again briefly with my hand. Thank you, Tree.

I felt a burst of energy in return. Love.

I was definitely going to plant some trees when I got home. I'd make a mini forest right in my mom's back yard. Front yard too.

I looked down to report my observations to Tony but I couldn't see him anymore. "Tony?"

No answer.

I was worried, thinking he might have fallen. We were out here in the middle of nowhere - now I'd seen just how out in the middle of nowhere we really were - and if he were hurt, I wasn't sure how I was going to get him out of the forest or even to the next waypoint.

I scrambled down the tree as fast as I could. When I got to the last branch, I dropped to the ground and stood, anxiously looking around the base of the tree, trying to locate Tony. He wasn't there, but his backpack was. And his axe was lying on top.

"Holy shit ... Tony!" I whisper-yelled because I was afraid Niles and his little buddy were still close by. "Tony!"

I heard the sound of a voice - a female voice - coming from around the other side of the tree.

That's weird. I walked around in time to see Tony standing in front of a crooked old hag, getting ready to plunge into what looked like a heavy-duty makeout session. His hands were on the hag's waist and his head was tilted, angled to the side in expectation of a real juicy liplock.

"Oh, shit, Tony, that's disgusting! Get away from her!" I ran over to break up the love fest.

She saw me coming and pulled back a few inches from Tony, anger brightening her beady eyes.

"SSSStaaaay awaaaay human giiirrrrl," she hiss-screeched, foamy spittle collecting at the corners of her mouth.

I nearly gagged, thinking of my Tony getting his first kiss from that ugly-ass woman. She looked about two hundred years old with stringy, greasy gray hair hanging down past her shoulders. One of her eyes was a cloudy light blue, the other one black; I couldn't see any iris - just one big, inky pupil, sunk within a wrinkly, mottled skeletal face. She was wearing a shapeless, dingy-gray cloak, stained and ragged. I looked with disgust at her rotted and crooked yellowish-brown teeth.

"No fucking way are you kissing my Tony with that mouth," I declared, stepping towards her with my stick in one hand and Tony's axe in the other.

She took a step back, releasing his arm.

Tony stood still for a second as I approached and then looked up, turning his head to face me. His eyes were open, but I saw no recognition in them when he looked me. Tony turned and moved towards the hag again, his arms reaching for her waist in a bid to finish their disgusting business together.

"Huh-uh, Tony Baloney, not so fast." I reached out and gripped his shoulder, pulling him back away from her.

He put up little resistance.

The hag backed farther away from me, her eyes not on the axe but on Blackie.

She seemed to be worried about it, so I held it up. "You want a taste of Blackie? Well then, bring it, bitch."

The hag raised her chin, staring at me malevolently, growling out in her rusty, acidic voice, "You know nothing of what you do, of what you have. I can see it in your eyes."

"Look again, hag." I brandished Blackie in front of me. "Come on, put your money where your mouth is, old lady. Don't think for one second that I won't stab this motherfucker right in your ugly, cloudy, beady-ass eye. Or maybe I should go for the good one!" I adjusted the point of my stick a smidge to the right.

The hag considered me for a moment and then looked at Tony.

"Darling," she simpered, "please ... help me. She's going to hurt me." She turned back to me, grinning maliciously.

I looked at her with disgust. Like Tony was going to fall for that shit. She was about as far from a kindly cookie-baking grandma as someone could possibly be.

I felt Tony's hand on my shoulder.

"Tony ... "

I never got the rest of my sentence out. Tony pushed me to the ground, quickly grabbing the axe that fell from my hand. He stood over me, a rage like I've never seen before, blazing in his eyes.

"Leave her alone, Jayne. She's mine."

I felt the vomit rise up in my throat. I had to swallow hard to make it go down and stay there. My ears were hot and ringing. What the hell was going on? Tony was hypnotized or something. She'd put a spell on his stupid ass. For chrissake ... as if I didn't have enough problems already.

"Tony! She's an old hag! She's hypnotized you or something! Come on, it's me ... Jayne, your best friend!" I searched his face desperately, but there was nothing there. Tony was somewhere far, far away. And this guy in front of me? I had no idea who he was. Some necrophiliac apparently, because that hag looked like a walking corpse, and I'm pretty sure it was lust I had seen in his eyes earlier.

"Hag?" he said, confused. He shook his head, smiling condescendingly. "Those who are blind cannot see." He gestured to the woman. "She's the most beautiful girl who ever walked this earth. You remember her, Jayne, don't you? She was with us at the warehouse." He turned to the old woman. "Samantha, come over here and say hello to Jayne."

Chapter Eighteen

"Samantha? No friggin' way, Tony, that is not Samantha." I stood up, shaking my head from side to side, backing away from both of them. I wasn't sure exactly what was going on here, other than the fact that Tony had been mind-fucked, but there was no way in hell Samantha, or whoever that was, was gonna suck face with my best friend. Over my dead body.

Tony stood in front of me, his axe hanging at his side. "Jayne, you're just confused. Samantha came back for us." He turned his head to look at the hag again. "She came back for me." His face was shining with deranged happiness.

The hag walked up to resume her place next to Tony, putting her hand on his arm. He rubbed her forearm and leaned down, preparing to kiss her again.

I couldn't take it. Maybe I was going to be cursed or whatever by the hag, but I was not going to let that kiss happen. I just hoped that when this was over, I'd get my Tony back - the real Tony, not the bewitched, necrophiliac Tony. I ran as fast as I could at the hag, ready to knock her antiquated ass to the ground.

She saw me coming and readied herself for my attack.

Tony was still slightly mesmerized, looking down at his new girlfriend, so at least for this brief moment I only had one battle to fight.

I had Blackie in my fist, held out in front of me, as I rushed forward. The point wasn't out because it was too awkward to carry like that when I was running, plus I wasn't totally comfortable with stabbing her. She was disgusting and she had cursed my friend, but she was an old lady after all.

The hag raised her left hand, her palm facing in my direction. As we collided, the fist holding Blackie was the first thing that came into contact with her body. The side of the stick's tip grazed her shoulder, emitting a hissing sound and the acrid smell of sulfur. A split second later, a blast of some horrible black energy erupted from her hand and hit me smack in the chest, sending me flying backwards.

I should have landed on my ass in the middle of some brambles, but instead I found myself in a pile of leafy limbs. Three trees standing witness to our battle had interlocked their branches, creating a net of sorts. I was caught inside it, but was released as soon as it had stopped my backward movement.

I sent out a vibe of gratitude. It felt good to know that at least The Green was on my side. I had a feeling I was going to need some allies, after having seen and felt that black powerful whatever-it-was coming out of her hand. My chest felt cold and bleak where it had made contact. That was one unhappy dose of magic she had going on there.

Tony watched what was happening, confusion marring his features. He looked from the hag, to me, and back again. "Jayne?"

"Don't look at her! Look at me! Samantha. Remember, darling?"

Tony's face broke out in smiles again. "Hello, Samantha. What are you doing to Jayne?" He didn't seem mad about the fact that she'd just blasted me with some sick-ass black lightning - just confused.

"Jayne is bad, Tony. She's trying to hurt me. You need to stop her."

"Jayne, is that true?"

"STOP HER!" the hag yelled, raising her hand again.

Tony lifted his axe and came towards me, a very determined look on his face.

Trees, don't fail me now, was all I could think. I played pictures through my mind as I grabbed hold of the nearest branches. I prayed that the connection I had with one tree could somehow be communicated to the others. All I had without them was that fucking black stick.

Tony was swinging his horrible axe, blue glowing pathways cutting through the air, and the humming sound rising to a crescendo that could only mean one thing: that axe was one bad motherfucker of a weapon, and if it hit me, it was going to be lights out.

Everything happened so fast, it took me a few moments to remember exactly how it had gone down. As Tony approached, the tree that had branches above his head bent down, wood popping and snapping with the effort. A wall of pine needles and leaves smashed into Tony's face, loosening his grip on the axe. The weapon fell to the ground and a vine of ivy raced across the forest floor, wrapping its tendrils around the axe and pulling it away, deep into the woods. I lost sight of it within seconds.

Luckily, so did Tony.

While Tony was wrapped up in battling leaves and branches, I slipped around the side and faced off with the hag.

"You think you're so clever, girl, with your tree friends. We'll see how badly they want to help you when they feel my fire!"

She held her palm up and blasted the tree next to me, the one interfering in Tony's struggle to get untangled. The potent stench of sulfur filled the air again, immediately followed by the smell of burning wood. I felt the pain of the tree - not as my own pain, but as echoes of sadness and disintegration. It was one of the most horrible sensations I'd ever experienced. I just wanted it to stop.

"Don't!" I yelled, desperation and anger coloring my voice.

The hag laughed maniacally and sent another cruel blast to the tree.

I could feel its strength waning. The ache of unshed tears jumped to my throat. If the tree continued to help me, she was going to destroy it - demolish its soul. I realized then that this is what she did; this is what made her happy, her reason for being. She thrived on the pain of others. As the tree suffered, she grew stronger.

This shit had to stop. Now.

I charged her, Blackie held out in front of me, point first - fuck the old lady pity card. She wanted to play rough, so she was going to have to deal with my new take-no-prisoners plan.

She raised her palm to stop me, but a quick thought-message from me asking a nearby vine to wrap itself around the hag's wrist and pull, sent her blast wide. I flinched as it hit a tree behind me, but it was the last minute distraction that I needed.

I didn't stop, even when I was upon her. I ran as hard as I could, ramming my pointed stick into her chest, refusing to let go even as I felt it sink into her bag of decrepit, brittle bones. She screamed, the unholy shriek rising higher and higher, hurting my ears with its ugliness.

A deep green glow burst from her chest where my stick had penetrated her flesh, blazing up and down to fully consume her. It touched my hand, the one that was still gripping the stick, but I felt nothing.

No blood came from her wound; instead, a blackness seeped out and spread slowly across the forest floor, causing whatever it touched to quickly move out of its way or shrivel up, turn gray, and die.

I danced my feet out of the way to keep the molten evil from touching my Converse sneakers.

The hag sank down, grabbing hold of my wrist and staring at me with her one good eye. "Youuuu ... giiiirrrlllll ... Motherrrr ... " A single tear welled up in each of her eyes, and for a brief moment - so quickly I thought I was probably imagining it - I saw another face there ... a younger one ... a beautiful one. But then the hag was there again. A smoking blackness, reeking of rotten chemicals.

I let go of the stick, and the defeated hag crumpled to the ground. The pitch-blackness that had seeped out of her, returned quickly, covering her body and boiling up over it.

I stepped back, grabbing my sweet Tony and pulling him along with me. He stumbled behind, saying nothing. When we were a few safe feet away, we stopped and stared at the mass of writhing blackness. I heard what sounded like the beating of wings and a chorus of deep, otherworldly evil screams that I knew I would experience in my nightmares for the rest of my life.

And then there was a flash of bright green light and a loud POP! ... and it was all over.

The hag was gone and my stick lay on the ground, small and black, still pointed on the end, and no longer glowing green or covered in the hag's heinous awfulness. It was as if the battle had never happened, except that in the place where the hag had been swallowed up by the blackness, a piece of scorched earth remained. I thought about covering it up with dirt, but then something made me decide not to.

Something terrible had happened here. As awful as she had been, she'd had some sort of life in her - and I had taken it. The bitch had to die; I knew that, rationally speaking. But when I thought back to that momentary vision of her, the one that had appeared just before her evil light was finally snuffed out, I thought maybe she hadn't always been a hag. Maybe, a long time ago, she had been a different person. Maybe even somebody Tony could have loved - someone I'd even let him make out with.

I looked at Tony. He was staring at the black spot on the ground, not saying anything.

"Tony? You okay?" I wasn't sure if my old Tony was back, or if I was going to be stuck with Zombie Tony for the rest of my life.

He shook his head slowly from side to side.

My guts clenched and I felt sick again. Please God, let me have my Tony back.

"I'm not really sure what just happened, Jayne. I came down from the tree, and I saw this beautiful girl. She looked like Samantha. She was here ... and then ... I don't know. I don't remember what happened after that." He looked up at me with tears glistening in his eyes. "But I remember being really angry at you and coming after you with that axe. And I don't know why I would ever do that, Jayne. It's killing me!"

He was crying for real now, not just tears but girly sobbing too.

I went to him and hugged him fiercely for a moment before pulling away and grabbing him firmly by the shoulders. The kid needed some tough love right now, and he'd caught me at a good time. I'd just kicked a crone's ass and burned her to smithereens. I wasn't feeling overly tenderhearted right at that moment.

"Listen, ya big baby ... you fell in love with an enchanted hag who tricked you and convinced you I was the bad guy. Luckily, you suck at hurting people and I easily kicked both your asses with the help of my friends, the trees and vines." I sent them a silent message of gratitude through my feet on the forest floor and was rewarded with a shower of leaves and evergreen needles.

Tony grabbed me and hugged me hard enough to squeeze my breath away. "I love you so much, Jayne. I never want to hurt you. Ever."

"I know that, Tony, I know," I mumbled into his shoulder. "Just promise me that if I ever get mesmerized by some ugly-ass, evil old wizard guy, you won't let me make out with him either, 'kay?"

"Um, okay." Tony thought about what I said for a second and took a step back, keeping his hands on my shoulders. "Do you mean that ... did I? ... Oh, God, please tell me I didn't ... " His eyes searched my face for answers I could tell he wasn't sure he wanted.

I reached up and patted him on the cheek. "Thanks to me and Blackie, you're still a virgin and you didn't make out with old One-Eye." I gestured meaningfully with my eyes at the black spot on the ground.

Tony dropped his hands from my shoulders and rubbed his stomach absently. "I feel sick." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking highly distressed. In a way, he'd been violated, so his reaction was totally understandable. But I hated to see him dwell on it.

"Come on, let's grab our bags and go. I know the right direction. I saw the second waypoint from up in the tree. It shouldn't take us long to get there."

I asked the trees for Tony's axe back. It came sliding out from under some brambles and stopped at Tony's feet. He stared at it for a minute, not immediately retrieving it.

"Come on, Tony, let's go. We don't have a ton of daylight left, you know."

"Maybe I shouldn't have a weapon."

"Listen, I know you're afraid you're going to try and use it on me again, and to be honest, I am a little pissed that you almost did, because apparently you've figured out the secret code that gets this fucker working like a freaky-ass lightsaber. But I know it wasn't your choice, and you kinda sucked at it anyway, so it doesn't matter. Pick it up and let's go. Stop feeling sorry for yourself."

Tony gave me a dirty look and then picked it up, walking over to stand next to me. "You have a terrible bedside manner, you know that?"

I smiled. "I know."

Tony put his arm around me as we walked. "That's one of the many qualities I love about you."

"I know that, too."

We made our way through the forest in the direction of the waypoint, reaching it in less than an hour. I went up to the obelisk and tied our flags to the iron ring. There was only one flag on this one - a yellow one.

Tony and I stared at it for a while. He was the first to comment.

"Do you think the hag got to the person who had the pink flags?"

"I don't know, Tones. Maybe."

It was a sobering thought. Dardennes had the nerve to call vampires, gnomes, killer dwarves and a wicked corpse-like hag 'obstacles'. We'd only made it to the second waypoint and we'd already encountered this much. What would be next? And would we survive it?

Chapter Nineteen

I got down from the tree I had climbed in search of the third waypoint, caressing its trunk as I stepped away, sending thank yous out through my mind.

"The next waypoint is way the hell over that way," I said, gesturing to the west. "I could barely see it. It's next to a lake, on its far side."

Tony looked up at the treetops. "Well, it's probably about five o'clock. We can either keep walking or find a place to camp for the night. It's up to you."

"I think I'd like to stop for now. I'm a little tired after having defeated Evil and all, so maybe we can walk until we find a good spot and then quit for the night. Maybe even make a fire this time?"

"Sounds like a plan," agreed Tony, his voice telling me he was tired too.

We walked for close to an hour and then came to a very small clearing in the midst of the dark woods. "How about this spot?" asked Tony.

"Fine with me." I dropped my backpack on the ground and sunk down to my knees. The pine needles and old leaves were like a carpeted floor, soft and a little bit bouncy. "You know, before coming here, I'd never really spent much time in the woods, other than that trip to North Carolina I took with my parents."

"Yeah, me neither."

"Except for the evil creature part, I really like it here." I knew I must be going crazy to feel this way, but it was true.

"Well, I think you belong in the woods," said Tony, getting food out of his backpack.

"Belong here? How so?" I was trying to decide if I should be insulted, seeing as how this forest's inhabitants were not only bloodthirsty but also pretty damn ugly.

Tony looked at me like I was missing something. "Well, duh. You talk to trees. Hello."

"Yeah, well there's that. I'm sure it's just this forest, though - there's magic here, obviously. I don't talk to trees at home." I wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that I was accepting the presence of magic in my life so readily now. Seemed like it should have been a tougher pill to swallow.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," said Tony, mysteriously.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you remember? That day with Brad Powers?"

"Of course, I remember the day; how could I forget? But I guess I missed the part where I talked to a tree."

"When Brad pushed you, all those leaves just fell down all over. You looked like you'd jumped into a pile of freshly-raked leaves, but they weren't there to start with. They only fell after you did; the tree shook them off. At the time I thought it was the wind or something like that, but after having seen you here, I think it was you talking to that tree and just not realizing it."

I thought back to that moment, which seemed like it had happened last year but actually had taken place less than a week ago. My, how time flies when you're fighting repulsive, supernatural creatures in an enchanted forest.

Tony could be right, but I didn't want to consider that possibility right now. I had been thinking all along that as soon as this test or hunt was over, we would be able to go back to our normal, mundane lives. To imagine that I might still be talking to trees when we were back in Florida was more than a little unsettling.

Yes, life had been boring in high school. I sat around every day in class, waiting for the world to come to me and offer me something more. Now, here I was, getting exactly what I had wished for - something a lot, lot more than just geometry and homecoming dances. But I was, in a way, regretting the fact that I hadn't appreciated before how easy my life was. How uncomplicated it was. So, I had a molester in my house? Nothing a swift shot of my softball bat couldn't fix. Now instead, I had ... this. Whatever this was. I had wished for a more interesting life, and now I had it - in spades. I had only myself to blame for what was happening to me right now. Dammit, I hated being adult about things, and that was what this felt like. It was all so serious and gut-wrenching and annoying. What a drag.

While I bemoaned the direction my life had taken, Tony got a fire started. He'd found plenty of dry pieces of wood lying around the forest near us. Even the rotten wood still had a vibration to it, although it was more like echoes and shadows than the electric energy I usually felt from a living tree. My green friends didn't seem to mind the burning of their already dead parts. The night air was getting cooler, so the warmth they generated felt awesome. Thank you, Green Forest.

Tony and I finished our dinners and then laid down by the fire, using our backpacks as pillows. We were head to head, keeping our bodies parallel to the flames.

"Jayne?"

"Yes?"

"Did I kiss that ... thing back there? You can tell me. I won't freak out."

"No, Tony, you didn't. You wanted to, but I wouldn't let you."

"That is just so disgusting. I can't stop thinking about it."

"Yes, well, now you know how I feel about that asshat boyfriend of my mom's."

"Now I'm sorry I didn't shoot him."

I laughed out loud. "You're awesome, Tony. Thanks for being my friend."

"Thanks for forcing me to be yours."

"You're welcome." I was smiling when I said it. I had good taste in friends, Tony was proof of that.

A few minutes passed in companionable silence before Tony said, "Do you think we should sleep in shifts?"

"No need."

"Well, if I were a blood-thirsty creature, I'd probably wait until we were sleeping to come in for a snack."

"Yeah, but we have guards on our side, and I'm too tired to stay awake all night or even part of the night."

"Yeah, too tired from fighting Evil, I know."

"Yeah, and don't forget, I'm tired also from battling you, trying to keep you from making out with Her Hagginess or chopping me into little pieces with your axe."

Tony groaned. "Please, don't remind me!"

I snorted. "Sorry. I'll stop. We will never speak of your cadaverous girlfriend or murderous ways ever again."

"Thank you. And so who are these so-called guards that are going to protect us from the night creatures, anyway?"

I gestured above our heads. "They are."

"Oh. Cool. Good idea." Ten seconds later, Tony was snoring. Poor kid was exhausted.

I couldn't help but feel flattered that he trusted in my abilities and ideas so completely. It was a heavy responsibility, though. Dammit, but this hunt was causing me to come to all sorts of annoying and rationally mature realizations, perish the thought. I wondered briefly if it was it too late to wish for my old life back.

But then I knew - the truth was that I didn't really want things to go back to the way they were. The life I had right now was seriously fucked up, yes; but there was no denying it was different than anything I'd ever experienced before, and no one could ever call it boring. And something told me there were going to be some other things to discover tomorrow and the day after. At least I wasn't sitting in a classroom drawing on my hand and doing the same old thing over and over again, wishing life could be different.

I put my hands on the ground, digging my palms and fingers into the leaves, pine needles, and soil beneath me. I stared up into the treetops, deeply inhaling the forest air and then letting my breath leave my lungs with a slow, controlled exhale. The serenity came to me softly but surely. I could smell the trees and the earth, feel the breeze and the pulsating energy that surrounded us. I sent my message to the living things growing in the Dell or wherever we were in the Green Forest, knowing now that my link to them was with the earth and even in the air around us. I was wired and wifi, and it was fucking awesome.

Protect us from those who wish to hurt us.

I received an answering feeling of shelter and security. Love. I knew the trees would let us know if the bad guys were coming. I wasn't sure exactly how that would happen, but I trusted that it would.

I realized later that I probably should have been more specific and maybe included a wider range of potential issues in my request - but I was new to this tree-whispering stuff and could never have known what was going to happen while we slept.

Chapter Twenty

We woke to a cold, dewy morning, the fire having long gone out. I stretched my arms above me, yawning without opening my eyes. My hand made contact with Tony's head, waking him up. I slid my leg to the side, intending to sit up, and it made contact with something hard. Not a tree. Something warm. Another body. For a second, it didn't compute. Tony was behind me, not on the side of me. What the ...

I jerked upright into a sitting position, yelling, "Tony! Get up!" I scooted as far away from the lump of clothed somebody as I could and rammed right into Tony's still half-asleep form.

"Ow! What?"

"Get up. Something's here."

Tony sat up quickly, pushing his knotted hair to the side and scrubbing his eyes and face to wake himself up more fully. He squinted at the lump, trying to focus. "Who or what is that?" he asked, cautiously.

I stared at it but didn't notice any distinguishing characteristics. We couldn't see its face the way it was lying there. And out here, it was possible the thing didn't even have a face. I stood slowly, backing away as quietly as I could.

Tony did the same.

After we were a few feet away, I felt more comfortable. "I'm gonna poke it with my stick. You get ready with your axe."

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea, Jayne."

"Do you have a better one?"

"Yeah. Let's leave it alone and go."

I thought about the communication with the trees I'd had, before I went to sleep last night. I was sure they wouldn't have let something malicious get through to us; so that had to mean that this thing, whatever it was, wasn't planning to cause any trouble. At least, it wasn't planning to last night.

"I'm just gonna try to wake it up. I won't hurt it."

I took Blackie in hand and tiptoed over to the pile of clothes. I gingerly touched it with the blunt end of my stick, nudging it just a little.

"Hey. You. Get up."

Nothing. No response.

I poked a little harder.

"Yo! Wake up!"

"Uhhhhnnnmmm ... "

I looked at Tony. That groan sounded suspiciously human. It sounded a little bit like ...

Tony walked over, crouching over the figure on the ground. "Becky?"

"Uhhhnnmm ... "

"Holy shit!" he said, his face going white.

I jumped to Becky's other side, pulling on her shoulder to turn her over.

Her face was covered in bruises and scratches, and she had dried blood caked around her mouth and nose. Both of her eyes were blackened and swollen.

"Shit, Becky, what the hell happened to you?" I wanted to help but I was afraid to even touch her. If her face was this bad, I could only imagine what the rest of her was like. She looked like she'd been run over by a truck.

"Jayne?" she asked weakly, not opening her eyes.

"Yeah, it's Jayne and Tony." I looked up at Tony. "Get her some water."

Tony ran over to our packs and brought back a bottle.

"Here, Becky, drink this water." I tipped the container up to her mouth, forcing her to take small sips.

Her eyes fluttered a little as she tried to open them, but she was mostly unsuccessful, only able to get them open a slit. The whites of her eyes were bloody-looking too. Someone had really done a number on her.

I had a million questions, and they all started pouring out of me at once. "Can you tell us what happened? And where are the others? Are they okay? How did you find us?" I stopped when I felt Tony's hand on my arm, telling me to shut the hell up.

"Sit me up," groaned Becky. "I want to get up - please."

Tony and I helped her upright. She sat there, hunched over for a minute, either gathering her strength or just unable to move anymore, I couldn't tell which. I was amazed she was even able to do that much. If someone had kicked my ass that bad, I'd be on my back for at least a week, demanding ice cream and cookies every half hour. Even out here I'd do that.

"We were attacked when it got dark," she said softly. "Jared got away. I saw him run before I got hit the first time. Finn ... " She couldn't finish because she was crying too much. The tears slid down her cheeks, silently, making salty paths on her dirty red and purple skin.

I looked at Tony. I was afraid from her reaction that Finn hadn't made it - that he'd been killed. I couldn't believe someone we came here with might not be going back. It was too ridiculously awful to even consider.

"Did you see Chase or Spike?" I asked gently. I didn't want to push her, but I needed to know.

"I ran away. I saw Finn go down, but when I left, Spike and Chase were still there, fighting. They were back to back." The sobs shook her body now.

I rubbed her shoulder gently, making whatever comforting noises I could come up with.

"I feel so guilty that I left them there. And Finn ... "

Tony tried to make her feel better. "You had to leave. It sounds like you were outnumbered. You have to take care of yourself in this place."

She snorted, sounding both bewildered and angry. "Outnumbered? Ha! That's a joke. It was the five of us against one."

"One what?" I asked. Tony and I already knew that a single certain type of creature could be like ten normal people.

"I don't even know what it was. It was there and then not there, too fast to watch. You never knew where it was going to show up next. It kept appearing, hitting me, tripping me, slapping me down. I had my knife, but I don't think I even got a single nick on the thing."

"Did you see what it looked like?" I asked. I wanted a description, thinking maybe there was a way the trees could help us.

"Not really. It was a man. Maybe just a boy. He was small, not much bigger than me. I saw him standing in front of me for barely a second. He, or it, looked angry. I'm not sure why - it's not like we challenged it or did anything. One minute we were setting up camp, the next minute we were getting our butts kicked."

"What happened with Finn?" I asked softly, waiting for more tears.

She took a deep, shaky breath and exhaled strongly. "He had his bow and arrows out. The thing was attacking Spike, and Finn let one of the arrows go. The thing turned around fast, and actually caught the arrow in its hand, in mid-flight. Then, in a flash it appeared in front of Finn and jabbed the arrow into his chest." She stopped talking and dropped her face into her hands, hissing at the pain she caused herself. "Ow, that frigging hurts," she said, before crying again.

Tony rubbed her back while I stood, pacing in front of them.

"What do we do now? Go find them? Or continue our search for the next waypoint? This is so messed up; I don't have any idea what we should be doing right now. Doublefuck!" My pacing was helping, clearing my mind of the worst bits of panic. "I think we need to go back. If they're as messed up as Becky is, they're going to need help."

"We could be walking into a minefield."

"Yeah," I agreed, "a minefield of seriously fucked up shit. You remember how to use that axe, Romeo?"

Tony blushed. "I'm sure I could, if given the right circumstances."

"Well, if I recall correctly, those circumstances include you getting very pissed."

"I'm sure if we see our friends in trouble, I'll be pissed enough."

"Good. Becky, can you remember how you got here?"

"No, I don't think so. I fell down after that thing hit me for about the tenth time, and when I looked up, a path in the trees opened in front of me. I crawled in and the trees closed behind me. I followed the path that kept appearing, hoping it was you and your tree-hugging stuff. Eventually I ended up here. I saw your fire and sat down next to it, and that's the last thing I remember."

Tony looked at me, frowning in confusion. "Jayne? What's she talking about?"

"Wellll, I did ask the trees to protect us from harm. It's possible I was picturing Becky's face at the time when I said 'us'."

"I thought you said the trees would let us know if someone came around? If she were a bad guy she could have slit our throats while we slept." Tony scowled at the trees around us, as if they could see him scolding them for their shoddy guard-duty work.

"Actually, I think I only asked for protection from those who would do us harm. Becky doesn't fit that profile. I guess next time I should be more specific."

Tony narrowed his eyes, still looking at the trees. I could tell he wasn't totally ready to swallow the whole idea of the tree-love, even though he'd felt it himself. He'd missed all the really good stuff when he was mooning over Her Ugliness, the hag, so I couldn't blame him for the doubt. It was still hard for me to believe sometimes.

"I think the trees helped me last night. I know they did, and I'm so grateful. Thank you, Jayne. You and the trees saved my life. Will you tell them thank you for me?"

I walked over and sat down next to her, taking her hands in one of mine. I put my other hand into the earth next to me. "Thank them yourself."

I connected to the trees, allowing them to feel Becky's gratitude. She closed her eyes, tears coming out of the corners to track down her face one after the other. She smiled, though, and sighed with a happy tone. "Gosh this feels good."

Tony was looking at Becky with a funny expression on his face. "Becky, do you feel okay?"

She laughed. "Well, everything considered, I guess so. At least I'm alive."

"I'm asking because your eyes aren't as swollen as they were, like, five minutes ago."

She opened them, now actually able to expose both of her eyeballs. And they weren't bloody-looking anymore. "Hey, I can see you guys now." She smiled and turned her head back and forth. "And my face and neck don't hurt as much."

I could feel a vibration in our connection - an energy thrumming through my body, going from the trees, through me, to Becky.

"Guys, I think the trees are doing some kind of healing thing on the Beckster."

"Okay, stop now," said Becky, a little breathless, severing her connection to me by pulling her hands away. "Wow. That's some pretty powerful stuff." She put her hand up on her chest.

"What happened?" asked Tony.

"I don't know. The feeling got too intense. It started out as a fluttering, then grew into a humming and then the vibrations started getting, I don't know, more vibratie ... too vibratie. My heart is still racing."

"Vibratie? I'm pretty sure that's not a word," said Tony.

"It's the only way I can describe it. The vibrations were too vibratie."

I hadn't felt what she was talking about. The vibrations just hummed along quietly for me. But I was glad that she was able to heal at least a little. I had been afraid she wouldn't even be able to walk, and that would have caused us a ton of problems to add to our already mountain-sized pile.

I stood and brushed myself off. "So, what's it going to be? Going back to Becky's camp or getting to waypoint number three?"

"Becky, did you guys get to waypoint two yet?"

"Yes. We saw your flags on one and two, so we knew you were ahead of us."

"How did Jared take it?" I asked.

Tony shot me a dirty look.

"What?" I said, innocently.

Tony shook his head, saying nothing.

"He didn't say anything. Are you still hung up on him, Jayne?"

"Yeah, maybe. Can you blame me? There you are, getting your ass handed to you last night by a ... lightning boy or whatever, and Jared takes off to save his own ass. And I'm sure you noticed the old yellow flags already there on the waypoints - yellow, same as Jared's flags. Coincidence? I think not."

"I ran away, too," said Becky, softly, guilt lacing her voice.

"Yeah, but that's different. You hung around a while and tried to help, and you're half the size of Jared. He's a big enough guy. He should have stayed to help Chase and Spike ... and you too."

"No use arguing over it now," said Tony. "I think we should go back and check on the others. I wouldn't feel right just walking away, knowing they could be hurt like Becky was."

I sighed loudly. "I had a feeling you were going to say that. Fine, let's get going. Becky, can you walk? If not, we can leave you here. I'll ask our friends to watch out for you." I glanced up at the trees.

"No, I'll come. Like Tony said, I wouldn't feel right staying behind. But can I eat one of your crackers or something? I left my bag back there and I'm starving all of a sudden."

Tony dug out a package and handed it to her.

Becky scarfed the food down without even stopping for a breath.

"Wow, you really were hungry," he said, impressed.

"I know. I don't know why, though. I ate dinner last night, not that long ago."

"I'll bet it's the healing stuff. The trees probably sped up your metabolism or something," he suggested.

We nodded. It made sense.

"Come on, guys," I said, walking now. "We're burning daylight. Let's go."

***

Becky was able to lead us back to the spot where she had been pummeled by the boy-thing, as the fog lifted from her memory. The trees kept clearing a path ahead of us, helping Becky show the way.

As soon as we got there, we could see that something bad had happened. Becky walked over to where a bunch of plants and ivy had been trampled. "This is where Finn was." There were brown stains on the ground, but no Finn. "That's his blood," she said, starting to cry again.

"Well, he's not here, so that's a good sign," I said. Dead people didn't get up and walk away, even in the forest - or at least I hoped so. I ignored Becky's tears. We didn't have time to wallow in her pain right now. I was very nervous about being here at the scene of the crime. Whatever they had done to set that creature off might be something we were doing right now. I didn't want to face that thing, whatever it was, if we could help it. I liked my face the way it was.

"They're not here," I said, stating the obvious. "What next?"

Becky looked around, a forlorn expression on her face.

"Let's go to waypoint three," said Tony, the voice of reason. "I'm sure that's where they're headed. We'll meet up with them there or on our way to the last one."

"Fine. Let's go."

I walked off with Tony, the way we had come, but Becky stayed put. I went back to her, taking her by the hand. "Buck up, little camper, we'll find 'em."

"But what about Finn?" she said, staring down at the stained forest floor.

"I haven't given up on him yet, so you shouldn't either."

Becky looked up at me, tears in her eyes again. "Did the trees tell you something?"

"No, it's just a feeling I have."

I was glad she didn't ask for any explanation because I really didn't have one. It's not that I was totally bullshitting her, but whatever it was that was bothering me, giving me these feelings of doubt, was too deep in my subconscious to come to my thinking, rational brain right now. Something, something, something, was just not right about this whole thing, and I wasn't talking about the fact that we were in a totally bizarre forest with supernatural creatures trying to kill us. Something bigger than all of this was going on. I just didn't know exactly what it was. Yet.

Chapter Twenty-One

We reached the lake around midday. It was gorgeous. Sunbeams hit the surface of the water, intersecting with its still surface to create random patterns of diamond-like sparkles, flashing and twinkling in the light. The water's edge was ringed with a narrow shore and trees. On the far side stood the waypoint obelisk - this one topped with a silver point that shone brightly, reflecting the rays of the sun. We stood at the edge of the trees on the opposite side of the lake.

"Thar she blows," I said. "And when I say she blows, I mean, she blows. This whole thing blows. It blows the big honkis."

"What exactly is a honkis?" asked Becky, sounding a little more chipper now that we'd actually succeeded in reaching our nearest goal.

"A honkis, my little friend, Beckster of the Land of Tampa, is a penis - a dick ... a prick ... a schlong, a dong, a wanker ... a johnson, a trouser trout, a ... "

"Um, excuse me? Jayne?"

"Yes, Tony?" I asked innocently.

All I got was expectant bug-eyes in response.

"What? Does my penis talk bother you?"

Becky giggled and said, "Dong."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Dong? That's all you got is dong?"

Becky stuck her chin out. "No, I got more. How 'bout ... wiener."

I shook my head. "Pitiful. You and Tony are perfect for each other."

Becky looked over at Tony shyly, her face going red.

Tony pretended not to hear us, walking out of the trees towards the lake shore; but I saw the back of his neck going red too.

Hmmmm. Maybe when we were done fighting for our lives and getting our asses kicked by supernaturals, they could go to the movies or something.

My matchmaking was suddenly interrupted by a howling coming from the trees on the other side of the lake. We all stopped walking towards the obelisk, and instead, carefully and slowly regrouped back at the edge of the woods.

I shook my head angrily. "Motherfucker! If it's not one thing, it's another. Did that sound like a wolf howl to you guys? Because it sounded like one to me." I was pissed. We just couldn't catch a break.

"Yeah," said Tony, quietly and intensely, "that definitely sounded like a wolf howl."

Becky just nodded her head up and down quickly, her eyes big and round and looking particularly gruesome with remnants of bruising around the edges. She looked like she had done a particularly bad job applying some goth makeup.

"And what are the chances that this wolf is a garden variety wolf? Anyone?" I looked at Becky and Tony for feedback.

"Not good," said Tony.

At least I could count on him to be honest, even if it wasn't really what I wanted to hear.

"Can the trees help us?" asked Becky, looking up.

"I don't see how," I said. They could communicate feelings to me and respond to my requests doing plant stuff with their branches and leaves, but as far as I knew that was the extent of their capabilities.

"We need to get to that waypoint," said Tony, frustrated.

"Let's just go, then. We'll keep our weapons out and our eyes open. Stick close to the trees.

"Shouldn't we stick close to the water?" asked Becky.

"Yeah, that way we have more room to maneuver, and we can see anything coming out at us from the trees," said Tony.

Any other time I would have agreed with them, but based on my newfound relationship with the green stuff in the forest, I was feeling much more secure being with them.

"I feel more comfortable with the trees; I can communicate with them." I looked out over the water. It seemed so beautiful and peaceful - just like this forest had looked on our first day in it. I continued, "Not to mention the fact that the Loch Ness Fucking Monster could be swimming around in that lake looking for its next meal."

Becky and Tony looked at the lake with new eyes. They both turned back to me, nodding reluctantly in agreement. If nothing else, this forest had made us a lot more open-minded about what could be. Never say never in the Green Forest.

"Let's go."

We took our weapons out and circled the lake, staying just inside the edge of the trees. We got halfway around before we encountered problems.

"Jaaayyyyne," said Becky nervously, her eyes on the lake to our right.

"What?"

Becky grabbed my arm. "There's something moving in the water."

I looked at the lake but saw nothing. "Where?"

"There," she said, pointing to the center, directly across from where we were standing.

A wolf howl split the silence around us. It came from inside the forest, just to our left, and it wasn't far away. We weren't quite surrounded yet, but we had only two directions left to choose from - forward and back.

"Jayne, it's close," said Tony.

A second howl pierced the air, this one of a different timbre.

"There's more than one!" said Becky, panic in her voice.

Then a chorus of howls split the air.

"There's a whole fucking pack! Get up in the trees," I urged.

I glanced towards the lake, second-guessing myself, wondering if we should go in that direction; but then I saw something just barely cutting through the surface of the water - a long trail of something, coming towards the shore, just next to where we were.

Trees, I need you. Help me and my friends get up in your branches. We need to go very high in one of the Ancients.

I decided that the old trees, the ones that had super big trunks, were going to be called the Ancients from now on. It just felt right. I didn't have much time to think about it, though. I was too busy trying not to get mauled by wolves or eaten by Loch Ness monsters.

The branches of a huge nearby tree leaned down.

"Grab onto the branch!" I yelled.

Becky and Tony obeyed at once, tucking their weapons into their clothes and taking hold of the tree's limb. We could hear something crashing through the forest, coming towards us. I shoved Blackie into my waistband.

Once we had grabbed hold, the tree lifted us up to the next branch.

"Get on!" I yelled, panic in my voice. At this distance above the ground, which was still too low, I could see gray and black shapes darting between trees deeper in the woods, coming in our direction. "Faster!"

Another branch lowered to meet us, and we all grabbed on desperately. We were lifted up again, now about twenty feet off the ground. I didn't know if it was going to be high enough.

More.

Another branch came down and we all climbed aboard. Becky didn't get a good grip though, and started to slip. She screamed.

"I'm falling!"

Tony grabbed her wrist and pulled her hard. She used the leverage to get a better grasp on the branch.

"Thanks," she said breathlessly, lifting herself up, once again secure.

Now that we were higher up, but still not so high that the view below was obscured by other branches and leaves, we could see what we were dealing with. A pack of wolves reached our tree and circled below.

But of course these weren't normal run-of-the-mill wolves. They were wolf-people. Wolves in as much as they had fur everywhere, wolfish looking heads, tails and big fucking teeth - people in that they stood on two legs and had hands - but with sharp claws on them. Werewolves. They were snarling and jumping up on the side of the tree, trying to grasp the lowest branch.

I had moved to the inside part of the branch so I was against the tree's trunk. I hugged it for all I was worth. Don't let the wolves in the trees, don't let the wolves in the trees; protect us, protect us, protect us.

"Jayne, what are you doing?!" Tony shouted in full freak-out mode.

"She's talking to the tree, dummy!" retorted Becky. "Give her some space!"

I opened my eyes in time to see Tony looking sheepish.

"I'm just asking it to keep the wolves out of the trees and to protect us," I explained. I didn't want Tony to feel bad. This was a lot to process, so I was totally cool with any one of us losing our minds.

"How's it going to keep the wolves out of the trees?" Tony asked, looking down.

One particularly persistent wolf was jumping up, over and over, trying to reach the lower branch. He was coming disturbingly close.

"I'm not sure; hopefully we won't have to find out."

No sooner had I said that, than the wolf succeeded in grabbing that friggin' branch, to the absolute jubilation of his pack mates who were now snarling and howling all at once. The wolf on the branch fixed us with a hungry look, saliva dripping out of the corners of his mouth as he flexed his biceps, slowly lifting himself up and hooking his arms over the branch.

"Jayyynnne!" moaned Becky, near hysteria.

I could tell that the wolf thought he had it in the bag, a savage smile curling up the edges of his mouth, when all of a sudden the tree next to ours swung one of its branches over and whacked the ever-loving shit out of that wolf, right on its stupid wolf head. The blow momentarily stunned him. He looked around not realizing where the assault had come from, naturally assuming it was from us. He roared his displeasure and doubled his efforts to re-establish his hold on the branch and continue his upward movement.

But my lovely trees had other ideas. Now two large branches from neighboring trees swung over, their wood protesting with groans and cracks that rang out through the forest. They were beating him about the head and shoulders, causing him to yelp and snarl in frustration. Then our tree shook its branch up and down, making it impossible for the carnivorous beast to hold on, especially when combined with the beat-down from the other trees. The wolfman fell to the ground, landing on his back, stunned.

The other wolves stopped their snarling and growling for a minute, gathering around their fallen pack-mate, sniffing the air above him. He sat up and shook his head, trying to get rid of what I hoped was one hell of a headache. Then he looked up at us with the most malevolent stare I've ever seen. He was even madder than that hag had been when I stole her boyfriend away.

He growled at the group and they renewed their efforts to get us down from the tree; only this time, they were more subtle. They just circled it, growling. The look their bruised leader gave us said it all: they were going to wait us out. We had to come down eventually.

It was then that I realized how bad I had to pee. This was going to be a long friggin day.

Chapter Twenty-Two

"What time is it, Tony?" I asked. I knew he didn't have a watch, but that didn't stop me from expecting him to know the answer.

He looked out over the calm water of the lake, gauging the sun's position by the reflections he was seeing. "About five o'clock, give or take."

"I have to pee like a friggin' racehorse," I said to no one in particular.

"Me too," said Becky.

"Me three," said Tony.

I looked down. All of the wolves were still there. "At some point I'm just gonna have to pee on those fuckers."

"That'll make 'em happy," said Tony, tiredly.

I'm pretty sure he thought I was joking, but I wasn't. I really had to go.

"Jayne, you probably shouldn't," cautioned Becky.

I sighed. I didn't even know how I was going to work it, mechanically speaking. At the least, I'd have to pull my pants down and dangle my hoo-ha over the branch, giving the wolves a perfect view of the Golden Palace of the Himalayas. That was just too embarrassing, although there was a sort of poetic justice to peeing on your enemies when they weren't able to get to you. And it wasn't like they would kill me less painfully if I didn't pee on them. Either way, I was going to die if they got their paws on me. Might as well pee on 'em, I decided.

I started to unzip my pants.

Tony went into panic mode. "Jayne, do NOT wiz on the werewolves."

I looked down at the wolves, deciding that it wouldn't technically be my fault if I warned them first. "Hello, werewolves? Excuse me!"

A few of them glanced up.

"Yoo hoo! Werewolves! Hairy motherfuckers! Yeah, you!"

The one who had gotten bonked was looking up now.

"Yo, listen, I gotta pee. You know, take a piss? So I'm gonna unleash up here. You might wanna look out below, if you know what I mean."

I watched in mid-unzip, while their leader, the one we had smashed, stood up and looked me in the eye. A shimmering formed around him, kind of outlining his body.

"What's he doing?" asked Tony. "What's that ... stuff around his head?"

"How the fuck do I know? Maybe he's going to turn into a vampire now."

We watched as his features quivered and changed. They became less wolfish and more mannish.

Becky whispered, "I think he's turning into a guy ... "

Sure enough. Where there was once a wolf standing, there was now a man. A very naked one. A very hot naked one.

He snarled at me.

A very hot, naked, angry one.

His voice was gruff. "What are you saying, human girl?"

I cleared my throat, now a tad nervous. It's not every day that I spoke to a totally hot naked man who I was getting ready to expose my parts to - and piss on.

"What I said, is that I have to pee, so if you don't want to get pissed on, I suggest you move your hairy asses out of the way."

His eyebrows screwed up as he processed what I said. "You are going to urinate." He said it like a statement, not a question.

"Yes, that would be the technical term for what I'm about to do."

"And you are telling us because you do not want to urinate on us?"

"Yes, that's the idea."

"You realize that we are going to kill you and eat you, yes?"

"Well, that did actually appear to be your goal - so yes, I am fully aware of your plan to kill and eat me and my friends. Not that I'm on board with this plan, mind you."

"Do not be foolish. You have no escape. We will wait for as long as it takes. You will have to come down eventually."

"Yeah, well, when I come down I'm going to have to kill you, so maybe you should take this opportunity to move along. I'm pretty sure the Loch Ness Monster's going to be paying us a visit soon, anyway."

He frowned. "Who is this monster you speak of?"

"The one in the lake."

The wolf looked out towards the water. "The Lady of the Lake has no quarrel with The Wolf."

Ah, so it was a Lady of the Lake and not Nessie. Cool. A chick I could handle.

"Yeah, well, I have weapons and I have friends, so I don't plan on being your next meal. Not today. Not ever."

The naked wolfman smiled. "You are brave."

I smiled.

"And stupid."

I frowned.

"Go ahead with your urination." He growled at his pack and they all moved away from the base of the tree. He was still looking up at me.

"Um, could you tell them to turn around?"

He looked at me, confused.

I signaled with my finger, turning it in the air. "Give a girl some privacy, would ya?"

He shook his head, but turned his pack around.

Imagine that \- a werewolf who lets a girl pee in private. Little bits of coolness in my totally fucked-up life. This place was full of surprises.

"Come on, Becky, now's our chance."

Tony didn't waste any time either. We all dropped our drawers and peed for what felt like five full minutes.

As soon as the sounds stopped, the wolves returned, although wisely avoiding the areas too near the drop zones.

Now that I could think of something other than my full bladder, I had some questions. "So, wolfman, what are you exactly? A werewolf?"

He looked out into the forest, saying nothing.

"We're kind of new to this whole supernatural thing, so I was just curious. Maybe you're a shapeshifter. Do you turn into a vampire at night?"

The wolfman spit in disgust. "Vampires ... "

"Ah, so you're not a werevampire."

"Do not be foolish," he yelled, angrily, looking up at me. "There is no such thing as a werevampire." His eyes glittered with anger.

"Yeah, sure. How foolish of me not to know that." I rolled my eyes. This guy obviously didn't get out of the forest much. "So, do you know Mr. Dardennes?"

"All in the forest know Dardennes," was his curt response.

Now we were getting somewhere. Tony and Becky were listening attentively.

"What about Jared Bloodworth, do you know him?"

Becky shot me a dirty look. Tony just looked off into the distance, shaking his head.

The wolfman spat on the ground again.

Hmmmm, interesting. "So you do know him?"

"Human, stop this useless interrogation. Come down here and save us the trouble of coming up there. I will make your death less painful."

I stared him in the eye, giving him my 'take no shit' look. "No, I don't think so. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever." In hindsight, the stare-down I gave him was probably not the wisest thing to do to a werewolf.

The wolfman snarled, shaking his head violently. We watched in disgusted awe as he changed from a man back into his wolf form. It was horrible and amazing all at the same time. He was agitated, and his anger got the rest of them all riled up. They were pacing under the tree again, several of them doing the vertical jumping stuff once more.

"Jayne, if enough of them start getting up here, I'm not sure that the trees are going to be able to beat them off," said Tony.

He was right. We were in a shitload of trouble, and I had probably made it a tad bit worse by antagonizing their leader.

Suddenly, one of the wolves yelped in pain, dropping to the ground. I looked down, trying to see what the hell was going on. "Can you guys see what's happening?"

"No!" said Tony, desperately searching for clues as to what was freaking the wolves out.

And freaking out was definitely what they were doing. All but one of them were lined up at the base of the tree, facing into the woods, snarling and growling. The fur on their necks and backs was standing on end, their ears flattened, tails held straight out behind them. The one on the forest floor wasn't moving, and it had an arrow shaft sticking out of its body.

"That's a fucking arrow! Finn's here!" I yelled.

Becky shouted, "Finn! We're in the tree! Be careful, there are seven of them!"

Another wolf yelped and fell, then got up, shaking its head and whining. It took two steps sideways and then walked face-first into the tree. It turned around, obviously confused, now walking towards the lake. One of the other wolves went over to it, nudging it in the side with its nose. The injured wolf looked up, sniffing the air, but apparently blind. I could see blood oozing out of its eyes and down around its ears. What the hell?

"Becky!" came a voice from the woods.

Spike!

Becky answered. "Spike! I'm here. I'm with Jayne and Tony in a tree near the lake!"

We heard the distinctive sound of a flying arrow as it entered our little area and then buried itself into another wolf body. The beast went down without a sound. The pack was down to four wolves now, the one with the eye problem - no doubt a victim of Spike's slingshot - having stumbled down to the lake, of no use to their cause anymore.

"We need to get down and help them," said Tony, putting his hand on the head of the axe that was sticking out of the top of his belt.

"Shit," was all I could think to say. He was right. We couldn't sit here on our grandstand and watch our friends get maimed, or possibly killed, trying to help us. I put my arms around the trunk of the tree. Help us down.

I could tell the tree didn't like this idea. I knew it would never deny my wishes, but I could sense a sorrow or empty feeling where normally all I felt was joy and abundance. The tree offered branches for us to climb down with so we could join our friends.

The wolfman leader looked up and saw what that we were coming down, weapons in hand. Then he looked off into the forest at our approaching friends. His head swiveled back and forth a couple more times. I could tell he was doing some wolf math in his head, trying to calculate his odds of winning.

A gunshot rang out and one of his comrades fell stone dead right next to him. That made the wolf math a lot easier. He let out one sharp bark at his pack and they all took off, running away from our tree and our friends, back in the direction we had come from.

Seconds later, we reached the lowest branch and Spike, Chase, and Finn showed up under our tree. Spike flashed me the most amazing smile I'd ever seen, even for him. "What's up, guys? Mind if we join the party?"

Chapter Twenty-Three

I jumped down from the last branch and ran to Spike, jumping into his arms, wrapping my legs around him, too. Having multiple near-death experiences apparently made me less inhibited.

He hugged me back fiercely, putting his face in my neck and inhaling deeply, sending shivers up my spine and down to my special places. "Nice to see you too, Jayne," he said softly.

Sliding down his body so I could get my feet and brain back to earth was nearly mind-blowing. Holy hotness. He smelled and felt so damn good. I smiled back at him and then turned to Chase. I walked up to him more sedately, laying my head momentarily on his chest as I hugged him around the waist.

He reached around and awkwardly patted me on the back. "Hey. You okay?"

"Yes. And damn glad you're alive, Chase." I pulled back and smiled, noticing that he couldn't help but smile back.

His face had a slice on one cheek, but looked surprisingly good, considering the beat-down he had probably received from that thing Becky had told us about.

I stepped over to Finn who already had Becky fawning all over him. His shirt was covered in old blood and smelled none too pretty. "I'll save the hug for later when you don't smell like death warmed over."

Finn smiled weakly at me. "Yeah, I'll take a raincheck."

Becky turned to me, alarm in her eyes after having peeked under his ragged shirt. "Jayne, you have to do something to help him."

I saw Chase raise his eyebrow at that, but of course he said nothing.

"Dr. Jayne, calling Dr. Jayne," said Spike, imitating a hospital page. Becky frowned at him and Spike had the good sense to look adequately chagrined. "Sorry, not a good time for jokes." He swung his slingshot around, whistling nervously.

"Nice shot, by the way," said Tony, looking pointedly at Spike's weapon.

Spike gave him an upward nod of his chin. "Yeah, thanks. I'm getting pretty good with this thing. Nothing like a life or death situation to help speed up the learning process."

"I think you blinded that wolf," said Tony, respect lacing his voice.

"Yeah," said Spike, sounding a little sad, "not the best way to go, but what was I supposed to do?"

Becky walked over to him and put her hand on his arm in a comforting gesture. "You did what you had to do. We're grateful. They told us they planned to kill and eat us, so don't feel bad."

Finn looked up from my amateur inspection of his chest, which had revealed a big, nasty-looking hole. "What do you mean, 'they told you'?"

Becky answered. "Well, they weren't just wolves, they were werewolves. One of them changed into a guy and had a conversation with Jayne. He pretty much told us their agenda then."

Finn shook his head. "Jayne-Girl, you are somethin' else, you know that? My momma would'a just loved you. She always liked girls with sass." He was smiling, even though I could tell he was in pain.

I stood up straight and took his hand. "Finn, I think maybe I can help you, but it's gonna be a little weird, so I just need you to go with it and don't give me any shit until it's over, 'kay?"

"You gonna do a little voodoo on me, or what?"

"Yeah, something like that - minus the sacrificial goat."

"Whatever. I'm beyond arguin' at this point. Just put me outta my misery if you can't fix me. I've done gone about as far as I'm gonna go."

I pulled on his hand. "Just a few more steps, and after that I won't make you walk anymore unless you want to." I led him over to one of the Ancients. I knew I was going to need some big guns for this one.

"Can we watch?" asked Becky, eagerly.

"Yeah. But I need you to keep an eye out for those wolves and the bitch from the lake."

"Bitch from the lake?" asked Spike.

"I'll tell you later. Just assume she's a mean-ass motherfucker if you see her coming and shoot her in the eyes."

Spike barked out a burst of sudden laughter but took something out of his pocket and put it in the pouch of his slingshot. He was locked and loaded, apparently.

I looked Finn in the eyes. They weren't very bright and he looked really tired. His skin was a pale gray, the sheen of sweat making it look even worse.

"I feel sick," he said softly.

"Finn, I need you to put your hands on this tree with me."

He had questions in his eyes, but lacked the strength to ask them. He reached over to put his hands where I showed him. He was leaning his cheek and upper body on the tree, the rest of him remaining on the ground among its roots. I went behind him, kneeling down so I could wrap my arms around him from behind and touch the tree above his arms.

He sighed. "This is nice. Cuddlin'."

I nipped his ear.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"We're not cuddling. You're getting healed. Now shut up and feel the energy."

I sent out my request. Trees and all creatures connected to us, I need your healing power for my friend. I felt the responding surge almost instantly.

Finn had started to complain. "I don't know what yer ... " Then he suddenly went silent.

I couldn't tell if he was feeling the energy or not, but I sure was. This tree was big time - a granddaddy of a tree. The energy was a heavy rumbling, deep and dark green-blue, coming up from the center of the forest, channeling power from trees, plants, creatures, the lake, the air, everything.

"Finn," Becky asked, a look of concern on her face, "what's wrong, sweetie? Why are you crying?"

"I ... it's just ... I can't ... "

"Shhhhh," I said, whispering because it was all I could manage, "we're almost done." I could feel the Ancient reeling the energy back in to its lowest level, which was apparently all I had experienced up until now. My heart was in my throat. I knew why Finn couldn't get his words out. The beauty and the power and the awesomeness of it all ... it was too much for our puny minds to comprehend. I was hoping I hadn't fried his brain, putting him on this tree. Maybe I should have picked a smaller one.

The tree disconnected all but the most tenuous link. I knew it wasn't a rejection - just a signal to me that its business with Finn was done. I didn't want to overstay my welcome, so I pulled us both away from the trunk, wrapping Finn's arms around his torso with mine on top.

I looked at Becky, since I couldn't see Finn's face. I mouthed the words, 'Is he okay?' at her.

She nodded her head, amazement and relief written all over her face.

"I'm letting you go, Finn, okay? Don't fall back."

Tony stepped behind us to help me up and make sure Finn didn't pass out and collapse onto the forest floor.

Spike and Chase stood off to the side, speechless.

Tony eased Finn back against the tree.

Finn's eyes were closed, but his color already looked better. His cheeks were a nice, rosy pink and he had a very peaceful smile on his face.

Becky came and leaned over him. "Finn, are you okay?"

"Yep," he said lazily, "I'm just enjoyin' the moment right now. Jus' gimme a minute or twenty."

I stepped away, brushing myself off again. Seemed like I kept getting covered in forest crud. I looked at my hands. My nails were a disaster.

Spike and Chase came over to stand with me.

"Soooo, what was that all about?" said Spike, a neutral look on his face.

Chase just looked at me questioningly, letting Spike do the talking.

I looked down at my feet, a little embarrassed; I don't know why. "Since we've been here, I've kinda discovered I have a connection to the trees or something."

"A connection, huh? Like how so?"

"I don't know - a connection. I touch the tree, I talk to the tree, the tree answers." I shrugged my shoulders. That was the essence of it, anyway.

"So you say, like, 'Hey tree, fix Finn,' and the tree is like, 'Okay, shazam, done.' "

"Not exactly, but that's the idea. I don't really use words so much as I use images or feelings. It seems to work."

Finn slowly stood up and ran his hands all over his body, breaking out in a huge grin before suddenly grabbing Becky and lifting her up high, making her scream in surprise and delight.

"I'd say," said Spike. He looked up at Chase and I saw them exchange a look.

Chase lifted his shoulders. "Could come in handy."

I play-punched Chase in the shoulder. "Chase, you are the master of the understatement; anyone ever told you that?"

"Yep."

Spike and I laughed. Chase even smiled a tiny bit. We walked over to join the others. It was time to get some flags tied to waypoint number three. I was almost hoping the lady in the lake would come out to dance so we could kick her ass too. Almost.

Chapter Twenty-Four

I took a flag from each of the others and walked over to the obelisk to tie them on. Chase had retrieved Becky's bag from where she'd dropped it after getting attacked, so luckily she had her flags back.

We all saw Jared's flag there, but none of us said anything. As far as I was concerned, my suspicions had been confirmed. Two yellow flags - one old and one new. He was working with the enemy. I wasn't sure what everyone else's opinion was, but I didn't care anymore. So long as he stayed the hell away from Tony and me, he could go on running around and hiding every time a creeper showed up. Maybe I'd see him at the finish line so I could smack him with my stick.

I turned from the obelisk to face the others. Everyone but Chase was looking at me. I walked over, intending to discuss our plan for waypoint number four, but I got distracted by the look on Chase's face as I drew even with him. He was staring out at the lake, mesmerized.

I shrugged. Who knew what went on in that guy's head? My mom always said that still waters ran deep, so maybe Chase had a lot more things going on than I realized. But if he did, he rarely showed signs of it. He reminded me of a military recruit, just waiting to take orders. I ignored him in favor of making our plan.

"So, what's next?"

We all stood there looking at each other, none of us wanting to be the first one to speak. I think seeing Jared's flag on the waypoint had kind of bummed them out or something.

I sighed. It sucked being the only one with their proverbial shit together. "Listen guys, we have some options. We can stop for a while; we can eat; we can stay here for the night; we can keep truckin'. Just tell me what you want to do and I'll do it."

"I'm starved," said Finn, rubbing his belly.

"Yeah, I was starving too after I had a dose of tree-healing," said Becky.

Tony was looking through his bag. "I don't know about you guys, but I really don't have much food left." He pulled out the last meal packet he had - mystery beef - and a half bottle of water. He looked out towards the lake, and I could almost see his mind working. We needed more water.

Before I could interject with my theories on drinking water from a lake that allegedly had some lady living in it, I was distracted by the look on Tony's face.

He opened his mouth and yelled, "Hey, Chase! Where are you going?!"

I turned in time to see Chase walking towards the edge of the lake. He didn't answer. He just kept moving towards someone standing in the water. Someone wearing a long, white, flowing dress - a lady.

"Fuck balls, it's the bitch in the lake!" I ran towards Chase to intervene.

The woman raised her hand towards Chase and he obediently returned the gesture, continuing forward, his feet now nearly touching the water.

I reached his side and nudged him. He didn't look at me; he just took another step forward.

"Hey, big guy, where ya goin'?" I asked.

No response.

I grabbed hold of his outstretched arm, pulling on it a little, but he just shrugged me off.

I ducked under his arm and stepped in front of him, putting my hands on his chest to stop his forward movement, my feet now in the water. "Just hold up a minute, Chase ... what's your hurry?"

He just kept walking forward, still in some sort of trance, pushing me ahead of him and deeper into the water.

"A little help here, guys!" I yelled, straining with the effort of keeping this human bulldozer from drowning himself, which is what I figured the Lady's plan was for him. She was like a siren or something, luring him into her watery lair.

Screw that - not on my watch!

Becky came running over to help me. She stood in front of Chase too, pushing with all her puny might.

"Where are the others?" I grunted out, my feet slipping farther into the water, dredging up some muck on the way. I could feel it going into my Converse. "This ho-bag is ruining my sneakers. She's gonna pay."

"I don't think the guys are going to be much help," said Becky, mysteriously.

I snuck a peek around Chase's arm and was thoroughly alarmed by what I saw. Spike, Finn, and Tony were all staring out at the lake, their eyes glazed over.

"Sonofabitch!" I yelled. How is it that we could take out a pack of ferocious werewolves with a slingshot and a couple of arrows, but a watery bitch floating in the lake was going to kill all my guy friends with a look? This was totally fucked up. Guys were so vulnerable sometimes.

I slid down to my knees, taking Chase's legs in my arms. Then I sat down in the muck and wrapped my legs around both of his as best I could, like I used to do to my dad when I was a little kid and he wasn't yet a flaming asshole, trying to keep him from going out the door to work. I had to get in contact with the ground and keep Chase from moving at the same time.

I put my hand down in the water, touching the shore beneath. Green things, help me. Grab my friends. Pull them away from the water. I pictured ivy and vines coming out from the forest and winding themselves around the guys and then dragging them back away from the lake. I left Becky out of the vision, even though she was pretty much zero help at all right now. No need to truss her up along with them. Maybe she'd come in handy later. She still had her knife.

The forest must have felt my urgency along with my instructions. The vines crawled across the ground at a much quicker speed than I would have thought possible. They reached the guys' feet and then traveled upwards, slithering like snakes up their legs and torsos, weaving around themselves and wrapping the guys like mummies as they went. I made sure The Green knew its goal was to hinder and not strangle. It was alarming to think how quickly my plan to protect could turn into a hangman's noose if I wasn't very clear about what I wanted.

Now that I thought about it, though, strategizing using images was better than using words. When I thought in language and then matched my images to words, like I did the night I asked The Green to protect Tony and me, I failed to take into account that my specific words don't consider other scenarios. It was fascinating, this whole topic, but I didn't have time right now to mull it over or analyze it further. First, I had to immobilize the guys. Then I had to kick this watery bitch's ass.

There was a thud as Tony's body hit the ground. He was struggling to get up, but his arms were now restrained at his sides. He was tangled in vines from his ankles to his shoulders. A second and third thud vibrated through the ground as Spike and Finn went down. Finn didn't struggle much, but Spike was pissed. He really wanted a piece of that waterlogged ass I guess. Stupid guys.

More vines had made their way to Chase, so I scooted away to let them do their thing. He was covered up to his armpits by the time I got to my feet, and they were beginning to make some headway in drawing him back away from the lake and its beckoning resident. I was covered in watery muck from the waist down.

"Fuck me, I'm wet everywhere," I said with disgust. I had my head down assessing my soggy clothes, so I didn't see exactly what happened next.

"Jayne!" screamed Becky, a violent splashing making its way to my ears.

I looked up and saw the aftermath of my critical planning error. The Lady was close to the shore and had Becky by the hand, pulling her out into the water. The Lady was just floating, but she was floating backwards, dragging a struggling Becky behind her.

Chase was being pulled away from the lake and back towards the forest by the vines. I called out to The Green to come and help Becky, but the vines stopped on the edge of the water, gently bobbing up and down with the rhythm of the waves created by Becky's still fighting form. She was up to her shoulders now, heading out to deeper waters.

"Becky!" I screamed, making to go in after her. The vines, which moments ago had refused to go into the water, suddenly awakened and grabbed me, wrapping their leafy arms around my legs, stopping me from going farther.

I slapped at them, grabbing and pulling as hard as I could to get them off. The more I tried to escape, the harder they wrapped themselves around me. More vines came to join the party. Pretty soon I was going to look like one of the guys - a green mummy.

"Let me go! I have to get her!" I sobbed.

"Jayne, help me!" Becky screamed in sheer panic.

I had to do something, but apparently swimming after her was a no-go, thanks to my ropey green friends. I tried in that moment not to question their loyalty - they'd never done anything but help me, so I had to believe they were doing that now.

I let them know that I wasn't going to go in the lake, turning to head back to shore. They loosened their hold on me and I ran back to where Finn had fallen, finding his bow and arrows lying next to him on the ground. I picked them up and tried to hold the bow, and at the same time, load an arrow. It was much harder to do than it looked.

I considered freeing Finn from the vines, but his eyes were still glazed over. I couldn't trust that he would help me and not go drown himself.

I sent a mayday message out to The Green, not expecting there to be a plant out there that knew how to shoot bows and arrows, but I didn't know what else to do. I stood on the shore of the lake, tears streaming down my cheeks as I watched Becky's face begin to disappear below the surface of the water, her eyes confirming the fear she felt as she approached her watery death.

"Becky! I'm sorry!" I screamed. I hated myself at that moment for being so powerless.

The bow and arrow were jerked from my hand. I started to fight, thinking one of my other friends had escaped and was going to follow Becky in, but it wasn't one of them. It was a small person, not much bigger than Becky herself, dressed in clothes that can only be described as camouflage, even though it wasn't a military variety. His shoes were more like moccasins and made no sound as he stepped one pace away from me. He lifted the weapon and, in one swift motion, notched the shaft in place, drew back the string, and let the arrow fly.

It sang through the air, hitting its intended target, piercing the heart of the Lady of the Lake. She let out a harrowing screech - it sounded like the cry of a thousand desperate, tortured souls. It was horrible. I covered my ears, trying to keep the sound away. I knew without question and without being told that too much of it could drive a person mad. I was already thinking that this world really sucked just hearing her screech one time - that was some powerful negativity coming at me. The Lady sunk beneath the surface, her deep crimson blood pouring down her gown and coloring the water around her. She kept her eyes locked on mine, even as the water rose up and covered her head. I saw anger in her eyes, and a silent promise of vengeance.

I anxiously watched the water for signs of Becky. My vines, sensing perhaps that I was again considering a water rescue, slithered up my legs. I absently brushed them away, knowing they were wasting their time because I'd never make it. The Lady was down, but I hadn't actually seen her die. The look on her face had said that she'd like nothing better than to get her clammy hands on me.

The place where Becky had disappeared was calm. A few bubbles rose to the surface, which instantly got my hopes up, but then nothing followed. No waves, no ripples, no more bubbles. No Becky.

"Is she gone?" I asked.

The man next to me didn't answer, so I looked at him. He nodded at me in silence.

I dropped my face into my hands and sobbed. The man pulled me away from the edge, pushing down on my shoulder when I drew near my vine-entangled friends. I lowered myself to the ground, not thinking, just grieving.

I knew if Becky hadn't come out of the lake by now, she was never going to come out. She was gone and it was all my fault. I had chosen to help the guys, but left her unprotected and vulnerable. The sobs racked my body. She was only a kid, tiny and unable to fend for herself. I should have taken care of her. I should have known better than to leave her out there.

My heart was breaking. I hadn't known Becky that well, but I did know that she was a good person. She was always happy, always positive. She was like a girl version of my Tony. That realization made me cry even harder. When had our lives become so fucked up? One day I was worried about a trip to the principal's office, and the next, I was watching a really great kid getting drowned in a lake and my friends being hypnotized into nearly committing suicide.

I felt a movement nearby as one of the guys bumped up against me.

"Jayne, what the hell's going on?" asked Tony, struggling against his bonds. "Why am I all tied up?"

Spike spoke next. "Yo, not so sure I'm okay with the S&M. Can someone untie me please?"

Finn was still just lying there, I assumed too weak from his recently healed injury to protest too much.

Chase struggled in silence, not managing to get very far but not due to lack of effort. He grunted with the strain he was putting into breaking the vines.

"Just stop, Chase, I'll let you go."

I sent a request out to The Green to release my friends, and they were freed within seconds. I thanked the vines for their help, because without it, I'd no doubt be mourning the loss of five friends and not just one. But one was more than enough. I started crying again.

The guys sat up, rubbing the circulation back into their arms and legs. Tony scooted over to sit next to me, laying his arm across my shoulders. Spike came to my other side, putting his arm around my waist. Chase stood, gazing out at the water.

I looked up and saw what he was doing through my tears. "Chase, turn around!" I yelled, panic in my voice.

Chase turned to look at me with a questioning expression.

"There's a fucking siren bitch in there who already hypnotized you once. Don't look out there because I'm not fucking coming after you again." I was furious, but not at him. I was more angry with myself than anyone or anything else.

Chase came back to stand in front of me. "Where's Becky?" he asked softly.

I dropped my head down, unable to look at them. "She went into the lake. She's not coming back. I couldn't save her." I threw my head up, disgusted with myself and yelling in frustration through my tears. "Correction! I could have saved her, but I didn't. She's dead because of me!"

The pain overwhelmed me, crushed me. I couldn't think straight. I needed to get back into the forest and far, far away from this lake - this place of death. "Get me away from here," I begged.

Tony and Spike helped me stand.

Chase stopped for a minute, opening Becky's bag. He pulled out her flare and her flint, sparking it until it caught and lit the end of the flare. He held it up above his head and aimed it out over the lake. I watched it fire off its bright red light and send a signal soaring up into the sky. It was too late for a rescue ... I knew that. The thought had me crying all over again. Chase threw the spent cartridge down on the shore of the lake.

The guys bent down, collecting our weapons, including Becky's knife that had been dropped near the water's edge. Seeing it brought even more tears to my eyes. I had so many of them rushing out I could hardly see anymore. Even so, I ran to the edge of the lake and picked up the cartridge. I don't know why, but I just wanted to keep it.

"Leave it. So they can find her," said Chase, softly.

I stopped walking and just dropped the cartridge where I was standing. So they could find her dead body. A horrific thought. I doubted they'd even bother. It was their fault it had happened. Theirs and mine.

My friends led me into the forest, away from the lake and towards the waypoint, gently guiding me finally to sit under a stand of trees. Within seconds, leaves were falling all over me. I paid no attention, only barely registering their soft caresses sliding across my arms or brushing my head before tumbling in slow motion down my back to the ground. Soon I was nearly buried in the sympathies and condolences of The Green.

My sobs quieted down bit by bit. I was aware of the guys standing nearby, talking in low tones. The only thing I cared about right then was making sure none of them was walking back to that fucking lake. I didn't have any more tears left to cry for them.

Tony noticed that I had stopped and came over, crouching down beside me in the pile of leaves. "I know you're not better, but are you good enough to walk? We think it's best if we get out of this area before nightfall."

I wiped my nose and eyes off with the sleeve of my sweatshirt, nodding. I hated to leave Becky's final resting place, but the farther away from that witch in the water we were, the better off we were all going to be. I wished that I had the luxury of giving in to my feelings of revenge, because that bitch had it coming to her. The world was now short one awesome kid, and that just wasn't right. But we needed to leave this place and finish this nightmare test.

I stood to join the guys and, suddenly remembering my short-statured savior, looked around to see where he was.

"What are you looking for, Jayne?" asked Spike.

"The guy who shot that bitch in her evil, rotten, slimy heart."

"Uh, what guy?"

"There was a guy here. He took Finn's bow and arrow and shot her. I couldn't do it - I couldn't work the damn thing." I tried not to feel shame about that fact. It's not like I'd ever held one before. "Maybe I should've had you teach me, Finn."

Tony nudged me. "Stop torturing yourself. You had no way of knowing."

He was in my head again, but this time I wasn't mad about it. It was lonely in there right now, and I could use the company.

"Well, whoever he is, he's not here now. It's just us guys," said Spike.

Minus Becky, was all I could think. My depression settled over me like a heavy, dark cloak.

Chapter Twenty-Five

I trudged on, walking behind Chase and Spike and in front of Finn. Tony walked next to me whenever the terrain would allow it. They were boxing me in, protecting me as best they could. I knew if something attacked us right now, I'd be of no help at all. All I wanted to do was lie down and sleep for the next ten years. Maybe by then I'd be able to forget all this madness.

I alternated between feeling helpless and sorry for myself, and being pissed and ready to kill any of the people of One Eleven Group with my bare hands. In those moments, I was feeling pretty confident that I could even take Ivar down. Rage had a way of bringing on the adrenaline and superhuman powers for me - or at least, the illusion of them.

Superpowers. That reminded me of the interview and the meeting we went to two days ago. Was it just two days ago? The beginning of the lies. My superpowers sure would have come in handy here in the forest. I hesitated in my thoughts. I kind of was using superpowers - at least in my interactions with The Green. I wasn't doing anything myself, but I was involved. Something was bothering me, something my subconscious was seeing that I wasn't. I think I was just too exhausted from the emotional pain and fatigue to focus. I had to get my mind off it for a little while. Maybe it would come to me later when I wasn't trying to think about it so hard.

I hummed one of the tunes Spike had played in the warehouse. He looked back at me and smiled, reaching out his hand to touch my shoulder. It felt nice, the contact. These kids were nice people; they didn't deserve this shit any more than I did.

My thoughts were interrupted when Chase stopped and pulled out his map. Tony, Finn, and Spike joined him, looking over his shoulders.

I sank to the ground, staring off into space. I could feel the hum of The Green below me, reaching up through the earth to connect. It was as if it could feel my sorrow and was trying to heal my heart. But there was no way to do that. I cut off the link so I could be alone.

Tony came back and sat down next to me, drawing his knees up to his chest. "Hey," he said, searching my face.

"Hey."

"How're you doing?"

"Not good."

He reached out and stroked my arm. "I know. Do you want to stop?"

"I really don't care anymore," I said. And I really didn't. Go, stop, sleep ... it didn't make any difference.

Tony got up and went back to the others. They conferred for a little while and then went around, gathering bits of wood. After a few minutes, Tony came back and explained.

"We're going to stay here for the night and then head out really early in the morning to reach the last waypoint. That okay with you?"

I shrugged. I couldn't care less.

"Do you think you can get the trees to protect us tonight so we can all sleep? I think Finn especially needs it."

"Probably."

"If you can't do it, no one will mind. We understand, just tell us if you can't."

I got angry with his patience and unspoken forgiveness that I didn't feel I deserved. "Fine! I can do it! Just leave me the hell alone!"

"Uh, that'll be a no on that," said Tony, sitting down next to me again.

"I'm serious, Tony, get the fuck away from me." I wasn't in the mood for his niceness or his easy acceptance of me right now.

"So you can sit here all alone and feel sorry for yourself? Nope, I don't think so."

I caught Spike and Chase stealing glances over at us, which only made me madder. Angry tears welled up in my eyes. "Screw you, Tony. I'm not feeling sorry for myself."

"What do you call it then?"

I shoved him away.

He tipped over on his side but then sat back up. "You're gonna have to do better than that," he said boldly.

I started to boil up inside and a message of bad intent formed in my mind. I could picture The Green tying Tony up and hanging him upside down from a tree branch.

"Ah, ah, ahhhh," Tony scolded me, wagging his finger back and forth like a mother to a child. "No fair using your powers for evil. Superheroes can only use their powers for good; you know that. It's Good Guy Rule Number One."

The evil image dissipated out of my mind as quickly as it had appeared. "I'm not a fucking superhero, you a-hole."

"I beg to differ," said Tony softly. "Without you, we would all be dead right now."

The tears came down my cheeks then and my throat closed up, making it hard to talk or even breathe. "What about Becky?" I said hoarsely. "I didn't save her, and I could have. I could have, Tony, but I didn't!"

Tony threw his arms around me, pulling me close, and I let him do it because I just didn't have the strength to fight him off anymore. The leaves were raining down again.

"Shhhh, shhhhh ... I know you're upset ... devastated. But you have to know this was not your fault. You did not put Becky in that water, and you did not make her walk in too deep. That was the Lady in the Lake and no one else. You may have a connection to the green things in this forest, but you cannot read minds and you cannot tell the future. Stop blaming yourself. It's actually kind of arrogant, if you think about it."

I pulled back away from him, looking at him fiercely. "Arrogant? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No, I'm serious. Do you really think you're so amazing that you can save everyone from everything? Please. None of us can do that. We have to work together as a team. We knew that on day one. It was your dumb idea in the first place, remember?"

I huffed out a pissed-off breath of air, but he did have a point. I was awesome, but on the other hand, I did suck at lots of things - shooting a bow and arrow for one. That brought my mind around to the guy who could shoot a bow and arrow, Robin Hood or whoever that guy was who had materialized out of nowhere and sank that soggy bitch in the lake. And Finn ... he was also a good shot.

I wiped my face off with my sleeve for the umpteenth time and tried to clear my gooey throat. "A-hem ... so, what? ... Is this your tough love speech?"

"Yeah. How am I doing?"

"Too fucking good," I said, letting out a half laugh, half sob.

Tony put his arms around me again, squeezing really hard. "We're gonna get through this, you'll see. Just hold it together for a little while longer."

I nodded my head into his shoulder. I was going to hold it together for just a while longer, alright - until I saw Dardennes again. Then I was going to unleash on his sorry ass. He was never going to know what hit him.

***

We went to sleep that night with a powerful, and I hoped, very clear request for protection sent out to The Green. My dreams were filled with Becky looking at me, her face crazy with desperation as the water rose up over her head. I must have called out to her in my sleep because at some point in the night Tony shushed me and then laid down to sleep right next to me.

I woke up the next morning once again covered in leaves. I was super warm because I had not only Tony next to me, but also at some point Spike had come and joined the party. I was sandwiched between the two of them. On another day in another place, this might have been very, very interesting, but not today.

Once I realized where I was, I sat up quickly. I couldn't help but let a tiny piece of me wish Becky would be there in a pile of wet clothes sleeping at my feet. But she wasn't. I didn't even want to think of her spending the rest of eternity in the depths of that miserable lake.

I stood up and did some jumping jacks to clear my mind of those horrible images. Then I searched around desperately for a semi-private spot to do my business.

"Hey, guys, I'll be right back ... gotta go pee."

I disappeared around some trees, going as fast as I could. I got back in time to see zippers going up. Apparently, the guys didn't worry about hiding to do their thing. Lucky jerks.

I pulled out and ate the remaining food from my pack and swallowed the last of my water. "Well, we'd better find this last waypoint today, because I'm outta grub." I stuffed the wrappers back in my bag and then tried to work my fingers through my tangled hair. I gave up and put it back into a ponytail with my rubber band.

Finn had been carrying Becky's bag along with his. He took the time to go through it, moving its contents into his. "Becky didn't have much left herself. We can share it later."

The thought of eating her food depressed the shit out of me. And the day had started out so well ...

Chase walked to the base of a tree, looking up its trunk to the branches above.

"What's up, Chase?" asked Spike.

He responded, giving one of the longest replies I'd heard from him so far. "I'm not sure which direction to go."

I stood up. Might as well make myself useful. "I'll go up and see."

Chase backed away from the tree, while Finn and Spike watched with rapt attention. This was new for them. They knew I was going to do something with the tree, but they didn't understand exactly what. Tony realized what was coming, so he backed up even farther.

I rested my hand on the trunk and made my connection, sending my images out to The Green. The branches moved in response to my requests. I stepped onto the nearest one, steadying myself before reaching for the next. The only sounds I heard were the swishing of the branches and the creaks and groans of the wood as the tree strained to do my bidding. The guys were totally silent, watching in awe as I was hoisted up to the higher levels.

I soon reached the top and was happy to see that the last waypoint appeared to be less than a day's travel from here, heading due south. I tried to get a feel for the forest in between here and there, but it was impossible. The only thing I could see was that it was dark. Very dark. The trees were denser there, tighter together. They appeared almost black. The waypoint was in the dead center. I almost turned to go down, but then I looked again. Something wasn't right, but what was it? I looked at the forest around the waypoint. Nothing was happening. It was totally still.

Wait a minute ... That is the problem. The forest around us and the sections farther away from the fourth waypoint moved ever so slightly with the wind, an occasional bird bursting in flight through the canopy only to glide and float back down into it somewhere else. Not so, for the section of forest we would be entering soon. I looked for a while longer, but nothing changed. That forest was utterly still, frozen in place but without ice. I got a really bad feeling about it. I climbed down carefully, putting together in my mind how I could relate what I'd seen to the guys.

I explained my concerns to them as best I could, and could see from their expressions that they were as worried as I was. "We need to go in ready for anything," I said. "I have a feeling that whatever's in there will make the whore in the lake look like our fairy friggin godmother." Using the W-word to describe the thing that killed Becky made me feel just a tiny bit better. I only used that word when it was absolutely necessary, and this was one of those times. I looked out in the direction of the water. Lake whore, lake whore, lake whore!

We walked due south, and it wasn't long before we were in the darker forest. We could tell the difference just by looking around us. The forest wasn't green anymore. The tree trunks looked black and gray instead of brown. The leaves were faded out husks, none of them fully green. The ground beneath our feet crunched, being dry and brittle instead of spongy like we were used to from the other parts of the forest. There were no normal sounds here. The birds, if they were here at all, were sleeping. Or dead.

I moved closer to Tony who was already walking next to me. I took his hand, and he didn't even blink. He was probably as freaked out as I was.

We made our way slowly through the forest, trying to make as little noise as possible. Occasionally, one of our steps would snap a twig, and there was always a bit of crunching as the dry, dead leaves crumbled beneath our feet. I was constantly on edge.

After a few hours of trekking, we heard another distinct sound - my stomach, growling loudly. Spike turned around and smiled at me. "Anyone up for some lunch, by any chance?"

I smiled, embarrassed. Stupid stomach. I didn't have any food left.

Finn dropped back to walk next to me, pulling some crackers out of his bag and handing them to me wordlessly. One of Becky's flags fell out and onto the ground. The food was Becky's, I could tell from the look on his face and how he was trying to act all casual. I bent down and took her flag, shoving it in my pocket.

Part of me wanted to refuse the food, but I was so hungry, I couldn't. And I knew that if it were me in the lake, I wouldn't want Becky to starve when she could eat my food. I took them and tore open the wrapper. They were dry but did the trick. I shoved the wrapper in my bag and kept on walking.

The others took things out of their bags and ate as we walked. A bottle of water got passed around and I took a sip. It tasted stale. I couldn't wait to have a nice, ice-cold soda when we got back. I was never much of a soda drinker before, but I would have killed for one right then, especially if it was Dardennes or Ivar standing between me and the bubbly beverage.

I grinned evilly as I thought about that - stabbing one of them with my stick and then causally walking over and taking a nice, long drink from an ice-cold glass. This hunt was making me a little more primal than I used to be. I wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing. My thoughts were interrupted by Chase stopping up ahead. We gathered around him to see what was going on.

"What's up?" I asked.

"I think we need another bird's-eye view," said Chase, looking around the forest. He didn't look happy.

"Okay, no problem. You look worried about something," I said, searching his face for clues about what he was thinking. I had to do that a lot with Chase because he so rarely expressed himself. But looking at him now I got nothing, other than concern. He didn't respond to my comment.

I walked over to a tree that looked like a good candidate, placing my hands on the trunk to make a connection. I inhaled sharply at the unpleasant sensation, causing the others to look over, and jerked my hands away, shaking them off and rubbing them on my jeans.

Tony came over. "What's up?"

"I'm not sure. I was going to talk to this tree, but something weird's going on."

"Here, let me do it with you," said Tony, putting his hands on the tree. He didn't pull his hands away, he just waited for me to start hugging.

I stepped over, putting my hands on his and the trunk. I immediately felt the same feeling - a sharp, tingling, coldness ... an emptiness. After the joy and positive energy that had come from The Green, this feeling was especially unwelcome. It was like an abomination of the beautiful tree communication that I had quickly grown to love and expect from the forest.

Tony pulled his hands away, a stricken look on his face. "That was awful."

"I know," I whispered. "I don't know what's happening. I don't think I can communicate with this tree." I looked around. "Any of them."

The others walked over. "Something wrong?" asked Finn.

"Yeah, the trees here are messed up," said Tony.

I shook my head, very sad for some reason. My despondency reminded me of Becky. Why did everything have to suck so much right now? "I can't talk to them. There's something wrong with this part of the forest. It's not dead, it's ... hurt. It's been blackened. Something ... or someone, has nearly killed it."

"How can you kill a forest?" asked Spike.

"I have no idea. I just know that when I put my hands on that tree, I got some very unhappy vibes. The trees aren't the source of it. They're merely communicating what is all over this area ... in the ground, in the living things ... maybe even in the things that aren't quite living."

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?" asked Spike, looking a little nervous.

"I don't know. Really, I don't. I just get sensations and feelings from the trees, and that's the only way I can describe what was there in my mind. There are things here, I think, that aren't quite alive and aren't quite dead. And they are not nice things, if the pain I'm getting from the trees is any indication."

Tony had been quiet, thinking to himself. He glanced up at all of us and then around at the nearby trees. I saw a momentary look of panic spread across his face.

"Out with it, Tones; what's on your mind?"

He reached up and scratched his head - a dead giveaway that he's trying to avoid saying something.

"Say whatever it is that you're thinking or I'll make you touch that tree again." We didn't have time to mess around with hurt feelings. I was prepared for Tony to say something I wasn't going to like.

"It's just ... I'm worried that your tree whispering isn't working. The last few confrontations we've had - all of them, actually - kind of went our way because of your help from the trees and stuff. Without them, I'm not sure we would have made it this far."

"Hey, we helped with the werewolves. Don't forget my awesome slingshot skills," said Spike, feigning offense.

"Yeah, but all of us would be with ... well, in that lake right now, if it wasn't for the vines from the forest."

All of the guys nodded. He was right.

Tony got a pensive look on his face. "Jayne, you said that you were feeling things all around us, not just in that tree, right?"

"Yeah ... "

"So how far does that communication link go, anyway?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I have no idea. Far maybe ... not far ... I don't know."

"Do you think it's possible that you could connect and reach out past this darker forest and into the green one around it?"

Tony was onto something. This felt right on so many levels. First, the selfish girl in me wanted to connect back up with my peeps in The Green, just so I could feel good again. This dark forest was seriously bringing me down. Also, I'd seen the trees heal two seriously wounded people. Maybe they could do it for trees too.

If it was possible to help this place cast off its dark mantle of ugliness and evil to be green again, I had to try. It must have been green at one time. I didn't see how else any plant could survive here. Mushrooms and moss maybe, but that's about it.

The last reason for trying this little experiment was probably the biggest priority in my mind. We needed to figure out where we were so that we could get the hell out of here and head back home, hopefully five hundred bucks richer, although the money had kind of ceased to matter so much. My life was worth much more than that. I shook my head thinking of all that I'd risked for a mere five hundred bucks. Ridiculous. It made me hate Dardennes all over again. I'd like to tie him up to one of these trees and unleash that hag on him ...

Tony cut into my thoughts, being all practical and shit. "Come on, Jayne, let's get this done. We're all going to help, aren't we guys?"

They looked at each other, faces revealing their unspoken doubt that they could be of any assistance.

"It might help to have more hands in the mix. Let's go see," I said.

I picked the biggest tree in the area - an Ancient that towered above the other trees around it. Its body was heavily ridged. I could fit my entire hand sideways between cracks in the scabby-looking bark. I debated between a big tree like this and a smaller one, thinking maybe the younger energy would be better, but then I decided to go with the Ancient. Surely this thing had seen some crazy shit. Maybe it had a deeper connection to The Green. That was my hope, anyway.

"You guys go hug that tree."

They all just stood there staring at me.

I shooed them away. "Go on! Go hug the tree! After you get set up, I'll come over and find a good spot."

They all moved to obey, but I could tell they thought I was nuts. Finn had felt the power before, more than any of them, but even he was a little skeptical.

I stood there, arms crossed, tapping my foot. "I don't have all day ... "

They grumbled a bit but moved over to the tree. They each leaned in to give it a tentative hug.

"Man, oh man, I wish I had my cell phone so I could take a picture of this for the Sierra Club's newsletter." I wasn't even sure if the Sierra Club had one, but if they did, this would be an awesome cover shot. I stepped over to join them, finding a spot in between Chase and Spike where I could hug the tree and touch a piece of each guy's arm. "Here goes nothin'," I said as I made contact. I was immediately assailed by the darkness and cold, the pricks and tiny piercings that were putting invisible marks on my skin.

"Oh, shee-it that don't feel good at all," said Finn.

"Damn, this is depressing," said Spike.

Chase and Tony said nothing. Tony was doing some deep breathing, probably trying to control his reaction.

I blocked out their voices and faces so I could focus on the connection. I'd never before searched through the link for anything specific; I'd always just let it carry me wherever it wanted, more on the receiving end then the searching end. I smiled as I realized I was just about to wish for a Google search engine. Now that would be convenient.

I let my mind wander the connection, searching for other links branching off. Ha, ha, branching off, get it? Shit, this was no time for puns. Concentrate, Jayne.  There was definitely an energy here. I had been wrong before when I had said it was dead. It was just that it was a different energy. I realized with a sickening feeling that it was a dark energy - dark as in evil ... worse than the hag and the watery whore. They lived in The Green. Whatever was here, its home was darkness.

I stretched my mind farther out. I rushed past shadows of things I couldn't see clearly - things I knew I didn't want to see clearly. They sensed the presence of my mind, my energy, and reached out. Screeched. Tried to connect with me. I slipped by as quickly as I could, blocking off the tendrils of energy that tried to make their way into my presence and to coax me into theirs. I didn't want to even think what would happen to me if one of them managed to get through. Who knows if I'd ever be able to get out?  I squeezed the arm of the nearest guy - I think it was Chase. He squeezed me back, and I could feel the reassurance in his touch. It was then that I realized I could feel the guys with me. They were like an anchor, keeping the most essential piece of me back there with them. It made me feel more secure, and I used this confidence to reach out even farther, towards a faint green light that I could sense was up ahead.

I knew the exact moment when I broke through the border of the dark forest. The light and love waiting for me in The Green was unmistakable. I didn't stop at the border, though. I continued searching, touching tree after tree after tree. I touched the vines, and the bushes and the grasses. I touched the leaves and the needles and the flowers. I touched everything I could reach and sent out my request. Bring your love and energy back with me, into the Dark Forest, and heal this tree. From there, we can heal them all.

This energy I was calling up, I knew was of the infinite variety. I couldn't exhaust it. Once I brought it back, it would feed on itself and spread. I knew this because I realized what this green energy was. It was our oneness ... the thing that connected all living creatures to one another. It was love.

I traced my way back to the Dark Forest, led there by the strong support of my human friends. They felt The Green's arrival before it got there.

"Here it comes," said Finn excitedly.

"Here comes what?" asked Spike in hushed tones.

"Wait for it ... ," said Tony, enthusiasm coloring his voice.

And then we were there. Me and the energy from The Green.

The tree we were hugging shuddered.

Then it groaned.

Black leaves fell all around our heads, covering us from ground to knees.

The branches waved back and forth as the green energy coursed through their fibers.

The roots buckled in the earth under our feet.

And then the tree itself started to shake and twist. We could hear a cracking begin, and Tony was thrown to the side.

"Everyone off!" I yelled. The groaning was getting so loud, it was difficult to hear anything else.

We all staggered back, Tony getting to his feet and joining us. We moved away, as far as we could without leaving the tree alone.

"Is this what's supposed to happen?!" yelled Finn.

"I don't know! I really didn't know what to expect!"

Chase put his hand up, blocking me from going back towards the tree. He wasn't even looking at me, it was an automatic reaction. I smiled as it reminded me of my mom. When I'd ride in the passenger seat of our car and she'd have to slam on her brakes, she'd throw her arm across my chest to protect me from going through the windshield, as if she could defy the laws of physics with her puny resistance. It wasn't the eventual success of the maneuver that mattered; it was the thought. I knew now that even if Chase never said anything, I was important to him. And I realized at the same time that he was important to me ... they all were. If we ever got out of this living hell, we were still going to be friends, I was sure of it.

The tree cracked down the center, drawing my attention back to our problem.

Uh-oh, this doesn't look good.

A green glow came from the center of the fissure. It spread out of the tree's core and then to the bark, moving up and down from there to cloak the tree entirely in green energy.

We watched as new leaves came out of new buds on the branches. They unfurled in fast-forward time, opening to greet the sun that surely awaited them, so they could nourish this gigantic, majestic tree.

There was a bright flash of green again, as a thin bolt of energy left the tree and struck another one nearby. Our eyes were jerked over to that tree now, watching as the same process began there.

Tears filled my eyes. This was better than I'd hoped for. The visceral energy was leaping from tree to tree, bringing a healing light to each of them. They were being reborn.

A rumbling sound was coming from the first tree, out of the crack that remained in its center. And then a roar.

It was not a tree roar - I was pretty sure a tree couldn't make a roaring sound like that. Whatever was making that sound was not happy and was ... in the tree?

I no sooner had formed that thought, than a black liquid began to seep out of the crack. A dark mist rose up from the liquid, and a form began to take shape.

We all reached for our weapons, which we'd had the forethought when we were walking earlier to stick in our belts or across our backs. I reached into my backpack, pulling out my flag and quickly shoving it in my pocket. "Get your flags out! Leave the bags!" I yelled. If my instincts were right, we were about to get the hell out of there quickly. I didn't want to lose the five hundred bucks - or my life - because I'd lost my flag somewhere. The others rushed to do what I said, securing their flags in their own pockets.

Whatever this was, it was definitely not good. It was blackness, something that had been inhabiting that tree when it was near death. And now it had been released.

The form continued to solidify, fed by the black molten goo and smoke collecting at the base of the tree. After a few moments, the dark liquid abruptly stopped oozing out, and the green energy moved from the branches down to the trunk and sealed the great crack, leaving the tree whole and unbroken now, beautiful healthy branches and leaves reaching up toward the sky.

Standing upright at the base of this majestic reborn tree, however, was what appeared to be a fully-grown, black, horrible-looking monster. It was covered in spiky, leathery skin glistening with goo. And it was staring at us with blood-red eyes.

Chapter Twenty-Six

A glob of drool fell out of the black monster's mouth and dripped down its chin, falling to the ground at its feet. My gaze followed it down and saw a tendril of smoke rise up from where it fell in the leaves below. I felt sick to my stomach. Acid drool. Faaaantastic.

I heard the unmistakable rumbling sound again, this time coming from a tree next to the big one with the monster in front of it. The black liquid and smoke were bleeding out of this new tree now, too. All around us, the trees were cracking, releasing the demons that had been trapped there, probably a very long time ago if the dark state of this forest was any indication.

I heard Finn's voice, but it made no words - just a sound. "Ahhhh ... " It sounded like the beginning of a song.

"What the hell?" asked Spike. "What are those things?"

"Orcs would be my guess," said Tony, sounding much calmer than I was feeling.

"What the fuck is an orc?" I asked angrily. I was feeling very strongly at that moment that Dardennes should have warned us that 'obstacles' could mean 'acid drooling orcs'. That was just common decency.

Tony sighed. "Didn't you guys watch Lord of the Rings?"

"I did," said Chase.

I glanced at Chase and saw him squeezing the handle of Becky's knife in one hand and the handle of his gun in the other, never taking his eyes off the monster.

"Any chance you can put the breaks on that green energy, healing thingy?" asked Spike with a nervous laugh.

"I'm not sure. But I don't think I should. Yes, it's releasing these ... things ... these ... orcs or demons or whatever; but if the trees are green, maybe they can help us."

"Not sure that's gonna matter too much if we have an army of these monsters against us. Vines and branches are okay for Ladies in the Lake, but probably not so much for these guys."

Spike had a point, but something told me it wasn't right to stop the awakening of the forest. It wasn't that I was willing to die for green trees or anything. My self-preservation instincts were alive and kicking, telling me to get the fuck out of there right now. But my trees hadn't let me down before. They'd even sent Robin Hood or whoever he was to help me once, so I had to keep the faith ... and probably kill off some orcs in the meantime.

The first orc we had released seemed to finally wake up to his situation. He was free of the tree that had kept him imprisoned, and there was a group of smallish pale things - us - standing in front of him.

The drool was freaking me out. "God, it keeps salivating. I think it's hungry."

"Wouldn't you be? Trapped inside that dang tree for who knows how long?" said Finn.

That was a cheery thought. I was going to be dinner, or maybe just an appetizer. Chase was more main course material.

"Stay close," said Chase. "We need to keep our backs together. If one of those gets behind us, we're done." He raised the gun up and took aim at the monster who'd taken its first step towards us.

I was just about to make a wisecrack when the thing lifted up its head and let out the most awful sound I'd ever heard. I'd thought that the water whore had the worst voice ever, but no ... this guy's was the worst. It sounded like a demon dinosaur. Not that I'd ever heard one of those, but it was what I imagined one would sound like. It nearly made my heart stop with fear.

Answering roars came from all around us. There were now at least thirty green trees, spewing black stuff, and ten of those piles of sludge had turned into fully formed, agitated monsters.

"Fuck me. This isn't possible! There are hundreds of trees in this place, hundreds! We don't stand a chance!" I was losing whatever cool I had left.

"Don't freak out," said Chase, the voice of reason. "We need to stay calm. Use your weapons. Go for the throat. Try to stay away from them as best you can. I think they move slow. If we can start running, we can outrun them back to the Green Forest."

"I think we should run towards the waypoint," said Finn. "How far into the Dark Forest is that last one, Jayne."

I wracked my brain trying to remember what the forest looked like when I was up in the tree. "Um, the waypoint is in the center of the dark area. Once we get to it, we'll have to go for at least a few hours to get out."

"Maybe Dardennes and his buddies will be waitin' for us there," said Finn, hopefully.

"I'm not sure that they know about or will be prepared for this little monster problem that we'll be bringing with us," said Tony.

With our luck, Tony was probably right. We couldn't expect Dardennes and his group to do anything to help us. All they'd done from the start was put us in harm's way.

The other monsters suddenly roared from behind me. The first orc roared back and then advanced toward us.

"Stay together!" yelled Chase.

I held up my sharpened stick. "Blackie, don't let me down!" I yelled, just at the moment when Chase and the monster started fighting.

The thing reached out to grab him and Chase brought his knife down, slashing the beast's hand.

I was jostled from behind and turned in time to see a slightly smaller orc, though still a foot taller than any of us, start grappling with Spike. Spike's slingshot was no help to him in this type of close-quarters combat. He landed one punch, though, at least throwing the orc back a few paces and giving Spike a temporary reprieve.

"Give me your gun!" I yelled at Chase. He handed it over without question. I turned and pushed it into Spike's hand. "I don't know how many bullets there are, so do what you can."

Spike nodded his thanks at me before shooting the orc right between the eyes when it advanced again. It stood there for a second before going down at Spike's feet. Spike shoved its shoulder with his foot, causing it to roll over and away.

One down, ninety-nine to go.

The sounds of battle rang out around me. The guys had enveloped me in the middle of them, not letting me out to fight and not letting any monsters in to eat me. While I appreciated the sentiment, I knew I was an asset they had to use. I bent down and put my hand to the ground, checking to see if I had any connection to the newly green trees around us. I could sense something there, but it was weak. There hadn't been enough time yet for all of the things around us to come alive - with the exception of the monsters, of course.

Two orcs dropped in quick succession, arrows protruding from their gooey black bodies. One staggered away from our circle with its arm hanging, nearly severed by a blow it had received from the axe - the axe I was happy and proud to see drawing luminous blue streaks in the air each time my Tony swung it. The hum it emitted as it swooped through the air made my heart swell. It was obvious the orcs didn't like that axe one bit. They shied away from it whenever they heard its hum.

Shots rang out. An orc that had nearly grabbed Finn fell onto its back, thick blood coming from its neck in a gurgling, black tar-fountain. I worked to keep the bile in my stomach where it belonged.

The orcs were slow. It was the only reason we were still alive right now. I wasn't sure if they were always this way, though. Maybe they were still tired from being cooped up in trees all this time. We needed to press our advantage. Soon we were going to be out of bullets, arrows and energy.

"We need to try and run to the waypoint," I yelled. Maybe Dardennes would be there to help. I didn't think so, but we had to do something. If we stayed in this forest, in this spot, we were sitting ducks just begging to be exterminated. I didn't want even a single drop of that nasty acid drool to touch me if I could help it.

We went farther into the forest, staying back-to-back, moving as a group. The guys continued to fight the orcs off, while I kept trying to get a jab in with my stick when one of them got close. I wasn't very successful because the guys kept pushing me back, keeping the orcs at a distance.

Then all of a sudden, one of the orcs broke through our circle. He knocked Finn over like he was a piece of paper and came right for me. I didn't think twice, holding Blackie out in front of me, ready to meet him head-on. When he was less than a foot away, I saw his skin up close and feared that there was no way Blackie was going to penetrate that stuff. It looked like alligator hide.

Much to my surprise, Blackie didn't just penetrate it; it sunk in like a red-hot poker sliding into a stick of butter. The orc looked down, and the green light coming from my stick reflected off the slimy skin of its face. It lifted its eyes to mine and snarled, reaching its arms up. But they only made it a few inches before that glowing red light in its eyes went dark.

The orc's body went slack, and I jumped to the side as it fell to the ground, keeping a hold of my weapon. I looked down at it and saw that it was covered in black goo. The green light was still coming from inside, working to burn off the black orc blood. Within seconds, my stick was back to normal, no longer gooey and no longer glowing.

"Holy bat balls, did you see that Tony?!"

Tony was too busy to answer, throwing his lightsaber axe all around, slicing and dicing orcs left and right.

I stepped outside the ring of guys, confident now that my badass Blackie and I could do some damage of our own. I stood with legs spread wide, Converse sneakers gripping the forest floor beneath me. I pushed up the sleeves of my sweatshirt, quickly wiping under my nose for good measure. "Come on, you smelly bastards. Let's dance."

One of the smaller ones took me up on my challenge. He strode over, moving a little faster than the others. I could see Chase getting annoyed with me out of the corner of my eye.

"Get back in the circle, Jayne!" he ordered.

"No!" I yelled, a fever in my brain. "I'm gonna kill me some orc!"

I kept Blackie hidden by my wrist, revealing it only when the orc got close. I faked left, acting like I was going to run by it, with the intention of stabbing the orc in the side with my right hand as I passed.

My plan would have worked perfectly if the fucking orc hadn't closelined me. It stuck its arm out, making instant and direct contact with my face as I tried to run by. I went down like a ton of bricks, my stick never touching anything.

Another orc was right behind the one that had dropped me. It grabbed me by the legs and pulled. I found myself sliding across the forest floor, being dragged farther and farther away from my friends. I finally found my voice and screamed, Blackie slipping out of my hands to land in the leaves.

I kicked as hard as I could, twisting my body around and around, trying to get the orc to let me go, but the fucker had his claws good and tangled in my shoe laces and pant legs. The orc seized the front of my sweatshirt, lifting me up off the ground, and putting me into an unwelcome bear hug, pinning me to its disgusting body from behind.

The smell coming off that orc body was somethin' else. Four-day-old desert roadkill crossed with the world's worst body odor had nothin' on this guy. It was so bad I started to retch. The monster squeezed me to make me stop; and I did, but only because my olfactory nerves had gone numb. The smell was seriously that bad.

I heard some roaring and grunting as the orcs communicated with each other. Heads gestured to my friends still fighting valiantly. I felt so fucking horrible at that moment, knowing they had been doing so well, and then I had to go and screw it all up. Chase had told me to get back, and I didn't listen. He was going to hate me forever. I'd never get to kiss Spike. And Tony ... what was going to happen to my Tony?

The guys stopped fighting and the orcs backed away. One of them, a big one, was gesturing towards me. The orc that held me moved forward, showing the guys that it held me prisoner. I tried to tell them I was sorry, but the orc squeezed the breath out of me. I almost passed out before it loosened its grip. I used my eyes to transmit as much emotion as I possibly could. I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry.

One of them grabbed some old, black vines from the forest floor and came over to me. It pulled me roughly from the other orc's grasp and shoved my shoulder to turn me around, grabbing my hands and securing them together with the vine behind me. I was now officially a prisoner of war.

The orc grunted and gestured to his friends, holding up a vine. Its intent was obvious: tie up the others like the girl. Now we were all going to be prisoners of war. On the bright side, though, they weren't eating us. Not yet anyway.

The guys put down their weapons and submitted themselves to our captors. Tony tried to fight a little, and one of them smacked him so hard he went down in an unconscious heap. He was so still and dead-looking, I couldn't help but cry out. The orc that had been holding me cuffed me on the side of the head, making my ears ring.

"Why you sonofa ..."

It hit me again, only harder this time, dropping me to my knees.

Spike shouted, "Stop talking, Jayne!" He ducked when one of the orcs came over to shut him up and took a hit to the shoulder.

The orc behind me pushed me, signaling me to get up and start walking.

I stood my ground. I wanted to walk with my friends. I tried to run over to them, awkwardly because my hands were tied behind my back, but I didn't make it far. One of the orcs tripped me, and I went down on my face, my mouth instantly filling with forest muck. I was lying on my side, trying to spit it out, when a pair of leathery, disgusting orc feet appeared in my vision. The last thing I saw before the lights went out was that leathery foot drawing back to kick me in the head.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I slowly came to, initially only hearing grunts and shuffling sounds, then eventually able to open my eyes. I found myself in a clearing, still inside the Dark Forest. I was tied to a tree, or rather, I was hung from a tree. The vines that had secured my hands behind me had been replaced by vines that bound my wrists in front. These handcuffs were then attached to another vine dangling from a tree branch above me. I had just enough play to sit with my hands suspended at about shoulder-height. I probably should have been grateful that they had moved my hands to the front of my body or that they hadn't hung me from the tree, but I wasn't grateful at all. I was pissed.

The trees here were green, but only newly so. I could tell from all the black and gray leaves on the ground that the trees had recently morphed into the beauties they were now. I wondered how many orcs currently made up the enemy forces - probably a lot. I was seriously regretting the rejuvenation of the forest.

In the center of the clearing was a fire. Something was roasting over it; it smelled like bacon. My eyes were still a little fuzzy, but if I squinted, I could see a little better. The thing hanging over the hot wood coals didn't look like a pig, or even a deer. It looked like ... like ... holy shit, they're roasting a dwarf!

A large branch had been jammed down his throat and out his back end. An orc stood to one side, turning the speared dwarf from time to time, like a pig on a spit. I turned my head immediately, thoroughly repulsed by the sight, trying not to barf.

I looked around the camp in a panic, the fear rising up to stick in my throat. I was pretty sure we were going to be the next few orc meals. Nearby, I could see Tony and Finn, tied up like I was. Finn was closest. He had blood under his nose and on his chin, like someone had popped him one. I saw him looking at me, and I got ready to yell out to him, but the panic on his face stopped me. His eyes were bugging out and his lips set in a thin line. He shook his head very slightly, telling me silently to shut the hell up. I did faintly recall the orcs didn't like it much when we talked. Maybe that's why Finn had a bloody nose.

I mouthed the words, "Where are Spike and Chase?"

I followed Finn's eyes across the camp. The guys were on the other side of the fire from us. I had to look past the roasting dwarf to see them. They were also tied up, both looking at the ground. Chase had some bruising around his face, and Spike had a cut on his cheek that had bled down to his jawline. It seemed as if none of them had gone quietly.

I could see Tony on the other side of Finn. He was either sleeping or still unconscious. If he'd been unconscious this whole time - and I wasn't sure how long it had been, but at least an hour - he could be seriously hurt.

Silently I asked Finn about Tony, "Is Tony okay?"

I tried to read Finn's lips, but it looked like he said, 'They like him again.'

Like him? Then realization dawned. He hadn't said 'like', he'd said, 'hit'.

Fuck. I sent up a silent prayer to the universe that Tony didn't have a concussion - or worse.

The orcs were scattered around the camp. Occasionally, a new one would wander in from farther out in the forest. My guess was that they were newly-freed ones, formed from the goo released by the trees. They grunted and growled at each other. The biggest one, the one Chase had cut on the hand at the beginning of our battle, seemed to be in charge. Yeah, that's just perfect. I had released the leader with that first Ancient tree. Fucking brilliant.

No matter where I tried to look, my attention was repeatedly drawn back to the fire in the middle. My brain entered into an otherworldly level of panic. A real human being ... dwarf being ... was roasting over a fire. My friends and I were tied up and sure to be next. Would they kill us first before they stuck the branch down our throats and out our ass cracks? Or would the branch do the work? Would we still be a little alive when we went over the fire like rotisserie chickens? My mind wouldn't let it go. The panic was real and overwhelming. I whimpered, unable to stop myself.

The nearest orc came over to me and smashed me in the head with its fist. Some of the spittle from its mouth swung out in an arc and landed on my arm, leaving a burn mark as it slid off. I wasn't sure if the nausea I felt was from the beat-down, the bar-b-cue, or the drool.

When he hit me, it spun me around so I was facing outside the clearing. At least I don't have to look at that poor dwarf anymore. But I also couldn't see Tony or the others. I forced myself to do some deep breathing, to keep the panic from rising up again.

A movement out in the trees caught my eye. Someone was there, and it wasn't an orc. The size and coloring wasn't right. I squinted to see if I could figure out who or what it was. The flickering light from the fire made it difficult to see what was beyond our circle of trees.

Then I saw a movement nearby, just beyond the tree I was dangling from. The figure slowly and cautiously crept closer. It moved near enough now that I could see its features in the light of the fire.

Jared! My eyes nearly fell out of my head. Jared is here! My heart soared. I didn't give a flying fuck if he was in league with Dardennes at this point. He couldn't possibly be on Team Orc. I was pretty sure no one was in cahoots with these barbarians, seeing as how they'd eat a dwarf and all. Probably their smell discouraged friendships, too.

Jared put his finger to his lips, signaling me to be quiet. I slowly turned and got Finn's attention, jerking my head slightly towards the tree I was attached to so he'd look back. He stared at me in confusion, not understanding what I was trying to tell him. I took the heel of my shoe and slowly wrote J-A-R-E-D on the forest floor in front of me. As soon as he read it, I kicked the dirt around to erase it. I was pretty sure these grunting orcs couldn't read, but just in case ...

I turned to look at Jared again, getting up on my knees to ease the numbness in my hands. Finn turned too, also looking at Jared. Jared held up Becky's knife and pantomimed cutting the vines around our hands.

I nodded my head in happy agreement. Get me the fuck out of this nightmare. Jared must have been behind us, following our trail. I remembered Chase dropping the knife in the leaves during our earlier battle.

Jared was trying to give us his plan, charades-style. It was more than frustrating. I thought what he was saying was that he was going to go around and release all of us quietly, and then we would get up and run together. Sounded like a plan to me, or at least the beginnings of one. The question was, where were we supposed to run? I kept mouthing, "Where?" to him, but he wasn't getting it.

It soon became clear to me; this plan wasn't going to work. I plopped down on my butt, resigned to the fact that we had a half-assed plan that barely had even a miniscule chance of being successful. I started to shift my body, aware that my butt bone was now resting on something hard, lumpy, and very uncomfortable. But just before I shifted, I felt something. A tingle.

A tingle in my butt? Suddenly, I realized what it was. The Green. I was sitting on a root that had grown up above the surface of the ground.

I used the toe of my left shoe to push the shoe and sock off my right, and scooted over so my bare foot could touch the root. Now I could feel the connection much stronger. The link was difficult enough to make here in this dark place, and my clothes had been dulling the sensation.

I sent out a tentative request, the beginning of a conversation, just with this tree. The Green was there. It was new, fresh, and just starting to awaken, but it was definitely there.

Finn was looking at me, frowning, wondering what the hell I was doing. He must have seen the smile on my face, because he smiled a little back at me. He probably thought I was happy about Jared - or that I had finally cracked under the pressure.

Things were looking up. We had Jared with a knife and I had a connection to The Green. Now I just had to figure out how to use it to our advantage. I thought it might be worthwhile to try a little experiment. I didn't bother trying to mime this to Jared. He wasn't aware of my little secret yet, and explaining my connection to The Green with charades would be impossible.

I connected into The Green using the link I had with my foot. I imagined a vine grabbing the foot of an orc off to my left, with the plan to trip it.

I didn't see the vine, but less than a minute later an orc got up from the group sitting near Chase and started walking to the edge of the trees. It got two steps and then went down, face-plant style - victim of a vine tripping. Bummer for the orc because its face-plant at that particular spot put it partially into the fire. It jerked back, roaring, its black skin bubbling and smoking where it had touched the flames.

The stench that rose up from that bar-b-cued orc was even worse than their natural body odor. I could see why they weren't cannibals. Double yuck. My eyes watered at the awfulness. I even saw Chase and Spike get repulsed looks on their faces, and Chase didn't usually react to that kind of thing.

The burned orc got up, looking around to see what had caused it to trip, but the vine had long since disappeared back into the forest. The only thing there, several paces away, was Chase. The orc took one look at him and roared. Spike cringed at the sight and sound, but Chase sat stoically. He was one badass dude, that Chase.

The orc turned sideways while it was roaring, and I could see its mouth in profile. There was spittle dripping from its gnarled, pointed teeth and drool sliding down its chin. Boy, was it pissed. And now, since I had once again done a very bad job of considering the consequences of my actions, it was pissed at Chase. Even though there's no way Chase could have done it, the orc was going to blame and punish him for tripping it.

It took two long strides towards my friend and backhanded him. Hard. Chase flew to the side, as far as his bonds would allow, and then swung back the other direction like a human pendulum. Anger blazed in his eyes, fresh blood dripping down his cheek from the gash that had opened up over his cheekbone again. The orc wasn't finished with him yet, though.

Spike and Finn watched in horror at the violence playing out before us. Spike ducked with every hit, as if he were the one being beaten.

Jared used the distraction to sneak up behind me and cut the vines around my wrists. Before heading off to Finn, he whispered closely in my ear, "Pretend like you're still attached. Don't let them see you're free until I get everyone. Get ready to run that way." He signaled the direction that was behind the biggest group of orcs, all sitting down having some sort of powwow together - probably planning when they were going to eat us. I wasn't so sure I wanted to run in that direction, but there was no way to communicate that to everyone, and the worst thing we could do was get separated. Jared had already left me, moving on to Finn.

I kept my hands together, like they were still connected, but my eyes immediately went to Chase. He was getting his ass royally kicked by the burned orc and there was nothing he could do about it. Now he had another bleeding gash, this one over his eye. I could see him trying to blink the blood away. Spike wasn't looking anymore. His head hung low, but I could see him still flinching every time Chase was hit.

I felt horrible that I'd made this happen. Yes, it had provided a great distraction for Jared, but it wasn't worth it. I had to figure out a way to help Chase, but part of me was panicked that I'd make the situation worse again. Unfortunately, the gift of future sight had not come with the gift of talking to The Green.

Suddenly, I saw my chance. Another orc was coming across the clearing, obviously hyped up by the violence he saw. He was nearly jumping with joy, and making motions with his hands like he wanted in on the action. He stood just behind the other orc, ready to take his turn.

I quickly communicated with The Green, asking for another tripping. The vine came out of the trees, moving rapidly across the ground towards the second orc.

Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down. I kept chanting fervently to myself until the vine secured itself around the second orc's feet, effectively tying them together.

The first orc took a step back from beating Chase to catch its breath, and the second orc took a step forward to begin its turn at the fun game called 'Beating the Shit Out of Chase'; but its feet didn't cooperate as expected. The orc's arms went out, flailing and searching for something to stop its fall. They made contact with the first orc, whose back was to the entire scenario and who didn't expect to be touched, or, in this case, tackled.

The first orc spun around, shoving the second one to the side, causing it to land in the fire, face first. But the second orc had managed to grab the first's arm, and didn't let go. The first orc found itself pulled into the fire too. It stumbled, looking for something to grab, knowing it was about to be burned again. The only thing there was to grab onto was the dwarf on the spit. The orc grabbed it, intending to right itself, but the spit wasn't strong enough to hold it.

The stick holding the roasting dwarf split, sending both the orc and the dwarf into the flames and hot coals below.

The group of orcs that were sitting off to the side grunting and conspiring jumped up, enraged that their dinner was being compromised. A few of them came stalking over with angry strides to take care of the problem.

The second orc got pulled from the edge of the fire by its feet, its face a mass of bubbling blackness, its screams of pain and rage ringing out through the forest. Another orc grabbed Tony's axe that was leaning against a nearby tree and hacked the screaming orc's head off, throwing the axe off to the side when it was done. It landed where the other unguarded weapons were.

Black goo spurted out of the headless orc's neck, sizzling as it landed among the coals. The audible anguish of the second orc had ceased immediately, but the first orc's screams and roars continued. I barfed a little in my mouth, spitting it out on the ground next to me. Seeing gore on television was one thing; seeing orc beheadings live was a whole other deal altogether.

I looked over in horror at the group of orcs that were mobilizing in the direction of the fire, but my attention was distracted by the sight of our weapons leaning against a tree where the orc had thrown Tony's axe. I put my foot on the root and sent out a message for the vines to take our weapons and pull them into the forest behind Tony for safekeeping. I could get them later as we left, knowing I was going to grab Tony before I did anything else. I turned my head towards the action for a second and when I looked back, the weapons were already gone. Good ... one less thing to worry about. Thank you, my Green friends.

Two more orcs pulled the first orc off the dwarf body and began beating the shit out of it. I didn't know if their victim was roaring and screaming from the painful burns or the beat-down it was getting, but scream and roar it did. I covered my ears with my hands to block out the sound, forgetting I was supposed to still be tied up. I quickly moved my hands back to the vine dangling above my head.

Jared was behind Chase now. He'd cut the vines from Finn, Tony, Spike and me. Tony was still out cold. I agonized for a brief moment about what a bad sign this was, but I knew I couldn't take the time to really freak out about him now. Hopefully, there would be time to worry later, if we were lucky. Right now, I had to figure out how to get him and the rest of us out of here.

Jared hesitated, trying to get to Chase without being seen. The orcs were fighting very close by, some of the bodies even falling at Chase's feet. He took a chance and darted out, cutting the vine above Chase's hands and leaving him with the knife before melting back into the trees.

Chase used it to cut the vines from around his wrists, balancing it between his knees and sawing with four quick strokes.

I looked over at Finn and grabbed his attention. Then I pointedly looked at Tony and then back at Finn. Finn looked at Tony, then me, nodding his head. I took this to mean he understood that I wanted us both to grab Tony when it was time to go.

It was almost time. I caught flashes of Jared through the trees as he headed back to Tony, which made me feel a little better. We'd be able to move Tony with us faster if we could trade off carrying him. Between the rest of the guys and me, maybe Tony wouldn't slow us down too much.

I sent one more message out to The Green before I quickly slipped my sock and shoe back on. Luckily, the orcs were too caught up in their bloodlust to pay any attention to what I was doing. I didn't have time to formulate the idea in my head, really, so I hoped The Green knew what I wanted and that I hadn't forgotten to consider any consequences that could backfire on us.

As soon as Jared came through the trees behind Tony, I made my move. Finn was one step ahead of me. We grabbed Tony's very still form and dragged him back into the trees. Our weapons were there, vines wrapped around them. I reached down to retrieve them, the vines dropping off as my hand made contact. I tucked the gun, stick and axe into my waistband; the bow and arrows I slung over my back. Spike's slingshot wasn't there.

One of the orcs saw us and immediately roared. I didn't stick around or even look back to see whether the other orcs paid him any attention; I just took off running next to Finn and Jared who were going as fast as they could, dragging Tony between them.

We made a wide circle around the camp of orcs, hoping to come out on the far side, just as Jared had instructed. Chase and Spike weren't with us, so we had to go that way if we were ever going to hook up with them again.

The sounds of crashing and pursuit reverberated behind us.

"They're coming!" I yelled, panic reaching up into my throat, nearly choking me. The adrenaline was pumping, and I felt like I was going to vomit again. My legs were tired. They didn't want to move as fast as I needed them to.

Finn was huffing and puffing, his face bright red and sweating. He and Jared were trying to get through the trees and brush and over fallen logs as fast as they could. Tony's dead weight was a serious problem; especially it seemed, for Finn.

I could still hear the orcs behind us, but occasionally I'd hear a loud thump and then a roaring that sounded like rage. Hopefully, that meant my plan was working, and with any luck, it would give us more time to get away.

We had finally reached the spot that Jared had designated as our meeting point. We were behind the area where the group of orcs had been sitting and grunting at each other. Chase and Spike weren't there. We stopped for a minute so Finn could catch his breath. Jared wasn't even winded.

After a minute or two, we started running again, heading in the direction Jared told us was towards the last waypoint. I had no reason to doubt him now; without him we'd still be sitting around that fire and Chase probably would have been beaten to death. Jared had redeemed himself in my eyes. Whether he'd needed to, I still wasn't completely certain, but it didn't matter now. We were getting the hell out of there.

The sounds of orc screams grew more distant. Finn shook his head as he jogged along. He tried to talk, but couldn't, too out of breath. "Stop ... for a ... sec ... ," he gasped.

I took over holding Tony for Finn as he bent over to get his breath. I looked at Jared to see how he was faring, but he seemed fine. He was barely out of breath, hardly breaking a sweat. Man, is he in shape or what?

"Why haven't they ... caught us yet?" asked Finn, still gasping for air.

Jared had a confused look on his face. "I have no idea. I expected to have them on our heels the whole way back."

"Back? Back where?" I asked, suddenly suspicious again.

Jared sighed, but it was no use lying. "Back to the final waypoint. I've already been there."

I knew it. "Why didn't you just leave?"

"Because I was worried about you guys." He shrugged his shoulders.

His answer made sense. It's what I would have done - it's what Tony and I did do when we had Becky with us. My throat tightened at the thought of her, bundled up by my feet that one morning. Poor little thing ...

I cleared my throat and continued. "Well, I set up a little plan of action as we were escaping which is probably why they've been slowed down; but they're only delayed. It's not going to keep them away forever."

The light bulb went on for Finn. "Ahh, I see. Okay, then, let's get going."

Jared looked at us, confused. "I don't get it. What's going on?"

"I'll explain later," I said. For some reason I still didn't want him to know. I trusted him, but then again, I didn't. I felt like he was keeping secrets, so I had no regrets about keeping some of my own.

Finn took Tony from me, and he and Jared set off jogging again. I followed behind, the sounds of our pursuers still echoing through the trees behind us.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

We stopped several times so Finn could catch his breath. The trees around us were all green. I wondered how many orcs had come from this area of the forest.

Jared looked around him, shaking his head in what looked like disbelief.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"When I came through here before, all these trees were black. They were all dead. Now everything's green - I don't understand what happened."

"It's because Jay... "

Finn didn't get the rest of his sentence out because I kicked him hard in the shin.

"Gol durn it!" he yelled limping around, nostrils flaring as he kept the pain in. "Jayne, you sure are lucky you're a girl, that's all I got to say right now." He shot a dirty look in my direction and then limped away.

I did my best to plaster an innocent smile on my face.

"What were you going to say?" asked Jared, looking at us suspiciously.

"He was going to say that it's probably green because it rained." I nodded my head to add believability to my story. "It rained, you know, pretty hard. Like, for hours."

"Huh," was all Jared would say. He wasn't buying it, but he knew I wasn't going to fess up. And now Finn wasn't either, thanks to the lump on his shin.

We all heard a moan coming from the area by our feet.

"Tony!" I squealed, bending down to touch his face.

His eyes were open, and he was looking up at us. His hand reached up to touch his head. "I feel like I got hit by a bus."

"You kind of did," I said, "only it was an angry orc with the strength and attitude of a silverback gorilla."

He closed his eyes in pain. "Don't remind me. You mean those things weren't part of a nightmare I was having?"

"No, they're real, all right," said Finn. "Real as the two inch hairs growin' off the end of my granny's chin."

I looked at him aghast. Ew. And I thought orcs were gross.

"Help me up," said Tony as he struggled to get into a sitting position.

Jared and I grabbed him under the arms, helping him stand.

He swayed on his feet a little but soon shrugged off our help. "I'm ready to go. Where are we heading? Did we get to the finish line yet?"

"No, we're on our way to waypoint four."

"Where's everyone else?"

"Hopefully, Chase and Spike are headed this way too. We lost them when we escaped from the orcs."

"Where'd you come from?" Tony asked Jared, his eyes narrowing.

"I followed you guys to the orc camp."

"He's already been to the last waypoint," I explained. Let Tony noodle that one through.

"What's it like? Is Dardennes there?"

Jared sighed. "You'll see."

I didn't like his answer at all. "You know, I'm getting pretty fucking tired of all these secrets, Jared."

He looked at me, a small smile playing on his lips. "Seems like I'm not the only one with secrets, Jayne."

I raised my eyebrow at him. Touché. "Well fuck you anyway - I don't want to know what's there. If Dardennes is smart, he won't be."

"Jayne!"

"What, Tony? He's been lying and sneaking around this whole time. I don't even know why he came back for us. For all we know he needs us or something. Or he's leading us into something worse."

Tony looked nervously at Jared. "Listen, Jared, she's just tired. She gets kinda cranky when she's tired. Just ignore what she's saying right now." Then he ducked, waiting for the smack he surely deserved.

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here, Tony. And you're just lucky you have a concussion right now, because otherwise I'd smash you one. I'm tired, yes, but I speak the truth. Unlike some people around here." I looked pointedly at Jared.

He shrugged his shoulders and turned around. "What was that sound?"

"Stop trying to change the subject."

"Shhh!"

I frowned, but shut up, listening for whatever he was talking about.

Then through the trees behind Jared walked Chase and Spike.

"Oh, thank the lord!" I exclaimed, running over to them and grabbing them in a three-way hug. Actually, it was me hugging them and them hugging me back, but they didn't hug each other. Guys.

"How did you find us?"

Spike answered with a smile, "It was kind of hard to not hear you, actually."

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you." I couldn't handle losing another friend, I really couldn't.

"We missed you too, Jayne," said Spike, giving me an extra squeeze, his fingers spread out on my back. I put my face in his neck and inhaled deeply. Damn, he smelled good.

I released Spike and then looked up at Chase. "Damn, they sure did a number on your face, didn't they?"

"Don't know; can't see it."

Spike laughed. "Trust me, dude, they did."

I looked in Chase's eyes, truly sorry for the part I'd played in that. "I'm so sorry I caused that to happen."

Chase lifted his hand and gently touched the side of my face. "It wasn't your fault."

The tears came up in my eyes, much as I wanted them to stay hidden.

Chase grabbed me in a bear hug. It was kind of like the orc hug, being as how Chase is so big, only it wasn't like the orc hug because it was warm and soft and kind ... comforting. I didn't want to let go. Apparently, neither did he. After a bit, my body started to heat up, and I'd be lying if I said it didn't feel pretty damn good.

I was brought back to Earth by someone clearing his throat.

"A-hem, okaaay then. So, where to now?" said Spike, staring at me and Chase.

I stepped back out of Chase's embrace.

He was staring at me, searching my eyes.

I looked away and my gaze landed on Spike. He was also staring at me, not smiling but not mad either - just searching. The close quarters scrutiny from the two of them was making me nervous. I moved away and took a deep breath. Man, is it hot in here or what? I felt like fanning myself.

"To the waypoint," I said, my composure partially back in place.

Jared said nothing; he just walked. We all followed, one at a time. I stayed as close to Tony as I could. He was a little slow, but he was able to go on his own. I took that as a very good sign.

I tried not to think about Spike and Chase as we walked along. Without the immediate threat of orcs on our asses, my brain had time to analyze, over-analyze and over-over analyze what had happened and what could possibly happen. Sometimes I hated having a girl brain. This was one of those times.

Why did that hug with Chase feel so good? Was there more to the hug than just friends? Why did I think Spike was so hot? Was he really that hot or did this forest mess my hot-o-meter all up? If I liked them, would either of them like me back? Could there be any kind of future with either of them - future being anything beyond this forest? Why were they runaways? Were they really criminals, hiding behind nice-guy exteriors? Was it wrong to like two guys at the same time? When was I going to see Spike's tattoos again? Could I think of a way to get him to take his shirt off? What does Chase look like without a shirt on?  I wonder how I could find out ...

And on and on it went. Before I knew it, we were entering the clearing of the fourth and final waypoint, deep in the heart of the once Dark Forest.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The obelisk for waypoint four was bigger than the others. It too was made of granite, but its base was much wider and the spike on top was black; it looked like it might be made of onyx. It reflected the lunar rays beaming down on us from the sky above. The moon was huge; I'd never seen it look this big before. I felt like I could actually reach out and touch it.

I turned my attention back to the task at hand. It was time to end this bullshit.

We entered the clearing cautiously. I kept my eyes alternatively on the obelisk and on Jared, preparing myself for him to pull a fast one during the last minute of our test.

As we drew nearer, I could see his flag tied to the iron ring on the side of the obelisk. At least he'd told the truth about that part. We were alone, though - no Dardennes, no Ivar, no commando dwarves. Those bastards better show.

We each went up to the iron ring to tie on our respective flags. I was last. In an act of defiance, I pulled Becky's flag from my pocket and tied it to the ring too. She deserved to be here with us. I looked back at the guys for their reactions and they were all nodding their heads in agreement.

I threw my hands up in disgust. We'd finished but there was nothing and no one here. "Now what?" I didn't know what I had been expecting, but I had kind of hoped that tying the flags would wake me up from this nightmare. But I was still standing here, still fully in it.

Jared pointed to the front of the obelisk.

"What?" I didn't get it. There was nothing there.

"Read the inscription," he said, softly.

Above our heads, inscribed into the stone and readable by moonlight, were these words:

Speak Your Fondest Desire. Enter To Begin The Change.

"What the hell is this, Jared?"

He just shrugged his shoulders, acting like he didn't know.

Asshole. I lost my temper. It was bound to happen sooner or later. I just wasn't prepared for how violent I felt.

"Aaaarrrrhhhh!"  The battle cry ripped from my throat, ringing through the clearing like the call of a banshee. I'd never heard a banshee before, but they couldn't possibly get as pissed as I was at that moment.

I ran at Jared and jumped on him, punching and kicking him as hard as I could. All I could think about was Becky's face as she went deeper into the water, Tony lying slumped over and tied to a tree, Chase getting the shit beat out of him as he sat helpless, the two forest creatures whose lives I'd snuffed out with the point of my stick, and a hundred other things that had happened from the time I got to that warehouse in Miami until now ... and stupid Jared sitting there blowing smoke rings on a bench, asking us if we were lost.

Jared didn't fight back; he just moved to protect his more sensitive parts. It didn't stop me from giving him a good raking across the face with my nails and a nice uppercut to the jaw, before the guys converged on us, pulling me off.

Chase held me in a bear hug, me facing out towards the others. I tried to kick him to free myself but he stood still, not moving. I stopped kicking because it wasn't fair that he get hurt. I didn't have a beef with him - just Jared. It pissed me off they weren't as mad as I was. We should all be beating his ass right now.

"No, Jayne. It's not going to happen," said Tony wearily.

I sneered at him. "Back in my head again, eh?"

"Unfortunately."

"Let me go, Chase."

"Promise to settle down?"

"For now."

Chase set me down and let me go, but he kept an annoyingly close eye on me.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," said Spike, flashing me his teeth. It wasn't exactly a smile, but it wasn't anger either.

"Never lie to me and you don't have to worry about it," I spat back, eyes on Jared.

Tony stood in front of the obelisk, reading the inscription out loud.

"Speak Your Fondest Desire. Enter To Begin The Change ... What does that mean? Do we stand here and say what we want most? What is the change we're going to start?" He looked at Jared. "Do I even want to start something like that? Seems like my life's already changed quite a bit, and I'm really not all that happy about it."

Jared was frustrated, that much was obvious. "Please, be honest with yourselves, all of you. Sure, your lives have changed. But is that such a bad thing? All of you were running from something. I don't know what it was, but it couldn't have been good. So you got into some pretty scary situations; but you made it out - together. You have friends for life here. And you've made some money in the bargain. You have to agree - life is arguably better for you right now."

I looked at him in disgust. "Say that to Becky."

Jared nodded to the obelisk. "Say it to her yourself."

I looked at the granite spire in front of me. What was he saying? Was Becky somehow associated with this? Was she still alive?

I made a move towards Jared, but Chase was too fast for me.

"Nope. You're staying right here with me."

"Chase!"

"Sorry, Jayne. Let him say what he has to say."

Jared sighed. "Just finish the test. That's all I can say. Just finish."

Jared walked up to the obelisk, standing front of it just below the inscription. He looked up to the onyx at the top and said, "I want to go back to my people."

A grinding sound erupted from the granite. All I could think was that some stinking black muck was going to come out and we were going to have to fight the orcs all over again.

But I was wrong.

A portion of the granite swung in to reveal a doorway. Jared stepped into it, turning to look back at us. "See you on the other side," he said, stepping backwards into the blackness. The door swung shut behind him.

Chapter Thirty

All of us started talking at once.

"Where the hell did he go?" asked Spike.

"What in the sam hill?" said Finn.

"I knew that motherfucker was in on it with them!" I yelled, finally feeling validated.

"I didn't even notice a door was there," said Tony, sounding more curious than anything.

I walked up to the spot where Jared had just been. I felt along the granite surface of the obelisk, but there were no cracks, no hinges, nothing.

Spike had walked around to the other side of it, doing the same thing. "I don't think he slipped out the back or anything."

Tony stepped up to the space under the inscription. "We might as well do this. It's the only way we're going to get out of here ... unless you guys feel like going through that orc forest again. You know we're in the dead center of it right now."

It was as if him speaking the words suddenly caused it to happen. The sounds of orcs off in the distance came out of the trees and across the clearing to our ears. They were coming this way.

"So, what are we supposed to do, then?" I asked, panicking once again.

"The inscription says to speak your fondest desire. Jared said he wanted to get back to his people. I'll try that," said Tony, bravely.

Tony straightened his shoulders and looked at all of us. "I want to go back to my people."

Nothing happened.

He tried again, louder. "I want to go back to my people!"

"Try something else," Finn suggested.

"Like what?"

Finn rolled his eyes. "Duh, say your fondest desire, not Jared's fondest desire."

Tony's face turned red. "Right. Okay. Um ... let's see ... what is my fondest desire?"

The sound of the orcs' arrival was getting louder.

"Come on, Tony, hurry up!" urged Spike.

I ran up to his side. "Maybe we can go in together and save some time."

Tony looked down at me and made his decision. "My fondest desire is that Jayne be safe."

The door opened, the blackness within beckoning.

Tony and I stepped forward. Tony entered into the blackness, but I bounced off, landing on my ass in the grass.

"What the ... ?"

Tony was inside, looking back at me. "One at a time, I guess. Do it, Jayne! I'll be right here waiting."

The door swung shut behind him.

I looked at Spike, Finn, and Chase in a panic. "Do you guys know your fondest desire? I don't! I'm thinking, but I can't come up with it, I'm too nervous!"

"I have mine," said Finn.

I waved him forward. "You go. I'll come after. Watch Tony's back for me."

"I'm not sure if I feel right leaving a lady behind."

"You're not. I have Chase and Spike here."

"Fine, then." Finn went over and stood at the invisible door. "I wish I could have an ice-cold beer and a chew."

The door opened and Finn stepped through.

Fucking rednecks. If only life could be that simple.

Spike laughed. "Sounds good to me. Ready now, Jayne?"

"No. You go."

Spike looked at Chase. "You good to wait for her?"

Chase nodded once.

Spike stepped up to the door. He straightened his shoulders and said, "My fondest desire is to go home."

The obelisk stood silent, unmoving.

Spike ran his fingers through his hair. "I guess it's some sort of lie detector, eh?" He laughed self-consciously. "Okay, how 'bout: my fondest desire is to get out of this forest."

Still nothing.

I raised my eyebrow. Whatever it was, Spike was either avoiding it or he didn't even know what it was. I could feel his discomfort from here.

He looked over his shoulder in the direction of the orc sounds, which had grown increasingly louder.

"Better make it fast," said Chase.

He turned back to the door and threw his hands up. "Fine! I wish I could kiss the lips of Jayne Sparks!"

I gasped as the door opened.

He turned around, walking backwards into the opening, smiling at me with those amazing teeth. "See you soon."

The door shut behind him.

Chase's eyebrows rose in surprise, but he didn't say a word.

I was too stunned to say anything. The guy could have wished for anything in the world, but what he wanted most was to kiss me? What a horrendous waste that was - all he had to do was ask! Shit, he didn't even have to ask, he could have just done it and I wouldn't have complained. I shook my head. Life was so messed up sometimes.

Chase gestured with his head that I was to go next, but no friggin' way was I sharing my heart's desire with him or anyone else. I trusted him and everything, but as I heard what the others said, my wish became clear to me. I was a little embarrassed about how selfish it was, but there was no use denying it. Only the truth was going to open that door. Only the truth was going to set me free.

Chase got behind me, trying to push me gently by my shoulders to the door.

"Chase, you should know me well enough by now. I'm not going until you go."

"I can't leave you here."

"Yes, you can. I have it all figured out. I know my fondest desire. I just don't want you to hear it."

"Is it Spike?"

"What? No, it's not Spike."

Chase smiled. "Do you think we get what we wish for?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm hoping so."

He stepped up to the inscription and took a deep breath. He looked back at me once and then up at the words. "I want to protect Jayne from all the evil."

The door opened. Chase stepped through without a backward glance.

The door shut behind him.

I was blown away all over again. Chase's fondest desire was to take care of me. Me? Why not himself? Why not wish for a swig of ice-cold beer, or a soda? Why not anything else? He was always so quiet. How was I supposed to know he felt this way?

The thoughts and emotions kept tumbling through my head. Tony, my best friend in the world, loving, protective, smart ... Spike, the hottest guy I knew with the most amazing sexy smile, happy, positive, musical ... Chase, strong, fearless, dedicated, unassuming, deep. They all were amazing guys who I was more than fortunate to count among my friends. How did I get so lucky?

The sound of a blood-curdling roar filled my ears. I turned in a panic, realizing that I'd wasted too much time. I was no longer alone in the clearing.

The largest orc of the army of orcs was striding towards me, salivating at the idea of eating me alive. I could feel the malevolence coming off of him in waves.

The grass in the clearing was tingling. I could feel it in my feet. The Green was reaching out to me. It was all around me. The trees were no longer black. They were green, alive, connecting and linked. I sent out my last message - keep me safe.

I ran to the front of the obelisk, looking behind me. The orc was still coming, closing in on me. A legion of orcs was behind him, the earth trembling with their footsteps.

"My fondest desire is to be worthy of my friends!"

The door didn't open.

Shit!

"My fondest desire is to be a good person!"

Still, the door remained closed.

Shitfuckshit!

The orcs were fifty feet away, closing in on me. I was desperate. What was my fondest desire? Help me!

I called out to The Green, and seconds later, detected movement out of the corner of my eye. Something was coming from the forest on the other side of the obelisk, opposite the orcs. I took a step to my left, trying to get a better view.

Lining the edge of the trees and moving purposefully towards the obelisk was a group of people. No, not people. Well, yes, people, but not regular ones.

They were smaller, lighter, and clothed in green and brown.

They were tall and thin, wearing cloaks.

They were short and squat wearing commando uniforms.

They were the people of The Green, and they had come armed with bows and arrows, clubs, axes, spears, and slingshots. The Green had sent an army to help me.

Vines came out of the forest behind the orcs, quickly slithering across the clearing to grab at their ankles and take them down. Once down, the orcs were covered in vines, incapacitated, and pulled back towards the forest - away from me.

The Green army fell on the orcs and began annihilating them.

The carnage was unbelievable. Black blood sprayed up and covered anything and anyone nearby. The burning acid saliva hissed as it landed on bodies and the ground. The screams of the soldiers of The Green echoed off the trees surrounding the clearing, as the orcs were able to escape their bonds and use their strength to bludgeon and rip apart some of their attackers.

I stood there, in shock, tears pouring down my face. My heart had stopped beating for I don't know how long and now rushed to get back in sync.

This is all my fault ... IT'S ALL MY FAULT!!

People of The Green were screaming, crying, and dying. They were being butchered. Small people, big people, short people, tall ones, black ones, green ones ... all of them. Dying because of me.

Just when I thought I wouldn't be able to take another second of it, I felt a gentle touch on my arm. I looked to see who it was.

"BECKY!!"

I grabbed her in a hug so hard I was surprised I didn't crush her bones.

She hugged me back for a second and then pried me off of her. "Jayne, you have to go now. This is not where you need to be."

I was sobbing so hard I could barely breathe, let alone talk. I had to shout to be heard above the noise of the battle.

"Becky! You're alive? You're ... holy shit ... alive!" I gasped to catch my breath. "I thought you died in that lake!"

"Things are not as they seem here, but I think you already know that. You must enter the obelisk and finish the test. They are waiting for you on the other side."

"Aren't you coming?"

"I've already been. I'll see you again, don't worry. But it's time for you to go now. You cannot get tangled up in this mess." She gestured with her head to the battle that was still raging on.

She took my hand and pulled me to the obelisk. "Say the words."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. And don't lie or say something you think other people want to hear. Say what is in your heart - what is your fondest desire?"

I took a deep breath, glancing at Becky and then at the door. I looked again at the inscription there, carved into the stone.

Speak Your Fondest Desire. Enter To Begin The Change.

I closed my eyes, listening to the sound of the orcs roaring and the people of The Green yelling their war cries. Everything was connected. Everyone was here for me and because of me. I already had my wish.

"My fondest desire is to be someone extraordinary."

The door to the obelisk opened, and I stepped into the darkness beyond.

Chapter Thirty-One

The corridor beyond the obelisk of waypoint four was lit with torches set in old metal sconces and brackets embedded in the stone walls - stone walls that were not built with individual blocks of material fitted together, but walls that were carved right out of great pieces of rock themselves. I ran my hand across its surface as I walked. It was slightly moist and smelled of minerals.

After going down the corridor for what seemed like a long time - but was probably no more than two minutes - I saw the gentle, flickering glow of candlelight in the shape of a rectangle up ahead. As I got closer, I realized it was a closed door. The light shining behind it and seeping through the cracks had created an illusion of a glowing shape.

The door had big iron bands on it, holding the wood together and maintaining its shape. There was an iron knocker on the front. It had a familiar face on it, but I didn't make the connection. How do I know this face? I grasped it and banged it down on the metal plate resting underneath, three times. The door swung open to reveal Tony standing in the doorway.

I jumped on him, burying my face in his neck and closing my eyes, hugging him as hard as I possibly could. I wanted to be instantly transported back to Florida - back to my horrible house with my disgusting mother's boyfriend and everything. I didn't want to be here anymore.

"It's not that bad, Jayne, you'll see," whispered Tony in my ear.

"Yes it is," I answered, my voice muffled by his shirt.

"Just come in and talk to them."

"No." I refused to let go of him. "There's a war going on out there, you know."

"Yes, we know. Come on ... come inside. They'll explain everything."

I let Tony go. "They who?"

Tony turned and gestured. "They, them."

I looked in the room and gasped. Not only were all my friends there, but so were Dardennes, Ivar, Niles, Céline, the Lady of the Lake - otherwise known as the watery whore - the werewolf I had talked to and probably a few of his friends, but I wasn't sure because I'd never seen them looking so un-wolf-like - Gilly, Gander, the vampire, and last but not least, Jared. And he was standing with all the forest people.

"Ha! I knew you were in on it!" I yelled at Jared, pissed all over again.

Jared gave me a vague smile and tipped his head.

I looked at Tony smugly. "I fucking told you, but noooo, you wouldn't listen."

Tony held up his hands, surrendering to my superior intellect, or at least that's what I told myself. "You win, Jayne, you were right ... about part of it, but not all of it. Come on, let's sit down. They're about to start."

"Start what? Eating us for dinner?"

I shot an evil eye over to the wolves and the lake whore. I didn't care if Becky was still alive. That woman was still rotten to the core, and I knew those wolves would have eaten me if I had come down from the tree. I wish I'd just gone ahead and pissed on them.

I took a seat at the massive wood table where the rest of my friends were already sitting. Spike looked at me and smiled, his face turning red. I pointed at him, mouthing the words, 'You're mine later.'

He raised his eyebrows all cocky-like, welcoming my challenge.

Okay, so it's not all bad right now.

I sat down next to Chase and Tony. Chase nodded at me, and I reached over and squeezed his arm. It was nice to know he had my back. I tried to ignore the other warm feelings that came up when I looked at him. I didn't think I was talented enough to juggle two love interests simultaneously. Of course, I'd never tried, so maybe ...

Tony kicked my seat, for sure vibing me and picking up on my amorous thoughts.

Dammit.

"A-hem. Let's get the meeting started, shall we?"

It was Dardennes talking. I gave him my most powerful evil eye. I so wanted to get him alone and show him just how appreciative I was of all the lies, deceit, and near-death experiences. He was just lucky as hell that Becky was okay. Now at least I didn't have to avenge her death, which I had been totally prepared to do.

"First, congratulations on making it through the test to the end. We are all very proud of you, as we are well aware of the obstacles you faced."

I snorted at that. Obstacles, my ass.

Dardennes continued, pretending he hadn't heard me. "You have all not only succeeded in completing the test and earning your five hundred dollars, you have also qualified for the special bonus that was mentioned by my colleague Céline on your first day at the lodge."

My ears perked up at the word 'bonus'.

"Before I share the details of that with you, it's important that I give you some background. Without it, the bonus would make little sense to you. I hope that you can remain patient with me." He gave me a particularly pointed look, to which I responded with a good rolling of the eyes. "I ask that you hear me out and give my colleagues your due attention as well. We have some history to share with you."

He paused, looking to each of us for some sort of response. We all nodded, now at least curious. History wasn't my favorite subject, but I had a feeling this history lesson was going to be different than the ones I was used to hearing in school.

***

"Many years ago, thousands of years ago, in fact, there was a special species of human-like creatures on the Earth. Today this species goes by many names, but we call it 'fae'. This species is very similar to the human species, with some key differences, one being that the life spans of the races that make up this species are much longer - for some as long as several thousand years - and another difference being that they all have what you would call supernatural abilities. These abilities are supernatural to the human species, but are in fact, quite 'natural' for the fae species." He paused to take a drink of water and let his words sink in.

I felt like Alice must have felt when she fell into the rabbit hole. Yes, when I was in the forest, some next-level freaky shit was going on. Yes, I was now talking to trees. And yes, I just saw an army of orcs being attacked by an army of ... fae. But it wasn't until sitting through this little history lesson that I finally, finally felt like I was in another dimension. That shows how fucked up in the head I was at this point.

Dardennes continued. "Within the fae species are many fae races. You have already met some of them: the werewolves ... "

At this, the pack of guys who I assumed were the werewolves who had treed us the other day, bowed their heads to us.

" ... the gnomes ... "

Gilly and Gander bowed low, and once again I was thankful I wasn't standing behind Gilly. I saw one of the wolves glance over at the wrong time and quickly look away, swallowing hard. That'll teach him to look at the ass-end of a gnome with a miniskirt on.

" ... the sirens ... "

The Lady of the Lake looked at us, without making any gesture at all, but we knew who he was talking about.

The big door opened and the guy I had nicknamed Robin Hood stepped through, nodding to Dardennes as he took his place among the fae.

" ... the Green Elves ... "

Robin Hood fae nodded his head briskly at all of us.

" ... the Dwarves ... "

Niles put a fist to his chest over his heart as some sort of warrior salute, no doubt.

" ... the Incubus and his female counterpart the Succubus ... "

From behind Dardennes stepped the vampire guy we had seen attacking Chase. He gave a little curtsy before stepping into the background again.

" ... the daemons ... "

Jared nodded his head at me only.

Dardennes gestured above his head. "And the orcs ... I believe you've met them as well. They're ... a little different ... but obviously not human." He gave us a weak smile, and some of us couldn't help but return it. Mine was of the bitter variety. Yeah, we fucking met the orcs. One of your little dwarf friends did too, much to his regret.

Tony kicked my seat.

I turned around and gave him my mean look.

His return expression said, 'Give the guy some slack.'

I thought, 'Fuck that!' as hard as I could back at him and stuck out my tongue.

He rolled his eyes at me.

"Don't forget the old hag posing as Samantha," I said resentfully. She was the first being I'd ever killed and I was still pissed they had pushed me into that.

"Yes, she was one of our witches - an unfortunate end, but our colleagues know the risks of participating in the tests. But we will get to that later. For now, let us continue with our history ... Céline?"

Céline stepped forward and picked up where Dardennes had left off. "You may be wondering how the fae came to have these supernatural abilities and the humans did not. Well, actually, if you believe this is the case, then you are of course forgiven for it, but you are wrong. You see, many humans do have these abilities, but they are too closed off from the source of their power to ever put their abilities into practice. There are some humans who have no abilities, that is true; but you would probably be surprised to know how many do. How can that be? Well, it is simple: Many of the humans who inhabit this planet actually have abilities like this because they are part fae. Let me ask you ... have you ever experienced a feeling of déjà vu? Have you ever had a dream about something, only to have it or some version of it come true? Have you ever seen someone you thought you knew from somewhere else? Do you ever meet someone and for some reason, get very bad vibes telling you to stay away from them? Do you ever have dreams where you fly above the trees or breathe underwater? Did you ever go somewhere new and feel as if you'd been there before? And finally, have you ever felt that you were special, but misunderstood - on the outside looking in? All of these are manifestations of fae ancestry."

We looked at each other. Even Chase swung around to look at me. I wondered if talking to trees meant something. Apparently my friends thought it did.

"Over the years, many fae have lost their connection to the magic that links them to their abilities." She looked around at our faces. "I see that several of you doubt the concept of magic."

She was including me in this observation, because her explanation was entering the 'too-far fetched to be believable' zone. Actually, we had passed that zone a loooong time ago, but I had to draw the line somewhere. Apparently, I drew it at the word 'magic'.

"Humans call sleight of hand and illusion magic. This is a misnomer. Magic is not a trick or something that fools your eyes. Magic is an energy present here on this planet and out in the universe. It is the energy that binds all of us together and to other living things - and even to things that are not living or that are only in a partially living state."

"The fae have a natural ability to tap into this magic without effort. It is, practically speaking, an automatic, involuntary connection that they use without thinking. The magic provides the energy for them to express and use their natural abilities - or as you would call them, their 'supernatural' abilities."

She stepped closer to our table, looking at each of us in turn. "Our species has a division in it, one that has existed for as long as our recorded history goes back. Each of the fae is on one side or the other of this division. There are the Light and the Dark; so we say there are 'Light Fae' and 'Dark Fae'. Some races of fae as a whole tend to belong to one division over the other - for example, the wraithes. They, almost to the wraithe, belong on the Dark Fae side. There have been some Light Fae wraithes, but it is rare. Sprites, on the other hand, usually tend to be Light Fae. Again, there are some exceptions, but they are rare. Finally, there are fae that equally go to the Light or the Dark. For example, there is nearly a perfect division of numbers for the witches - half of them are Light Fae and half are Dark."

"Some, or I should say, many, of the fae actually survive off of humans in one way or another. Some need human energy, some need human blood, and some, human meat. The main difference between the Light Fae and the Dark Fae is that they have opposing opinions about what our role among humans should be and how humans should be treated. The Light Fae believe that our survival depends on anonymity, not revealing our existence, and protecting our own kind, as well as protecting the humans from destruction by fae-kind."

She saw our looks of disgust and quickly responded. "Don't get the wrong idea here - we're not talking about the stuff of horror movies. The Light Fae value human life. They don't take human lives to satisfy their cravings or even their needs."

"Now, the Dark Fae believe that the fae are superior to humans, and as such, believe the ultimate goal for all fae should be to take over leadership of the world and essentially 'come out of the closet', as they say. They don't agree that to maintain the safety of our races we should live in anonymity and in harmony with the humans, with the humans remaining ignorant to our existence. If the Dark Fae were to have their way, humans would eventually be enslaved to them, and used for whatever they could give to the fae - including energy, blood, and meat."

I looked at my friends' faces and they mirrored the revulsion I felt. Humans as sources of meat? Disgusting. I thought about the dwarf in the orc camp.

"Apparently, the orcs don't just like to eat human meat," I said.

Céline sighed. "Yes, this is true. There are some ... creatures ... that have turned to eating their own kind; just as there are some humans on the planet who practice cannibalism."

Dardennes took over the history lesson. "We have reached a critical period in the history of the fae. Our numbers have dwindled, particularly in the Light Fae division. All of the fae you see here today are members of the Light Fae."

That little nugget made me feel a little bit better. I could see on Finn's face he felt the same. I looked at Jared and he met my stare, not looking away. He was proud of who he was, that much was clear.

"The Dark Fae are willing to use certain, shall we say, unsavory methods to maintain their numbers. Since we, on the other hand, have such high regard for our fellow species - the humans - we cannot do these things; it is against our moral code. Therefore, we had to devise other methods to find and recruit members of our species, that is to say, humans who may not know that they, in fact, are members of our species. Certain individuals of our kind are suited for identifying and recruiting possible candidates." At this he gestured to Jared who nodded back and then looked over at us.

Chase turned around in his chair again, first looking at me and then at the others. Tony was nodding his head in comprehension, along with Spike.

Finn and I looked at each other with questions written all over our faces.  What exactly does this have to do with us?

"We have found the best way to identify those with fae blood in their veins is to test for fae abilities in controlled studies ... tests such as the one you have passed - with flying colors I might add." He held up each of our flags.

Oh, the irony.

"Based on your performance over the past three days, you have been identified as very likely having fae blood and therefore, fae abilities."

Whaaaat?

Spike raised his hand.

Dardennes smiled. "Spike?"

"Yeah, uh, so what you're saying is that I ... all of us ... are fae?"

"Not exactly. What I'm saying is that it is likely that you have fae blood somewhere in your ancestry."

"So, how do you know for sure?"

"We won't know unless you choose to participate in the next step."

Here it comes - I knew it wasn't going to be this easy.

"So ... what's the next step?"

"Once all of you know the story, know what you could be participating in, you will be given a choice. We have in our possession certain ... amulets ... imbued with qualities that will essentially awaken or charge your fae blood and race-specific abilities. If you choose to use the amulet, and you are of the fae, it will bring about your change. You will become a 'Changeling'. Should you choose not to awaken your fae blood, you will be given the money you have earned and sent back to Miami, or wherever you'd like us to take you."

"So, what's the catch?" I asked.

"There is no catch."

"So, you'll just tell us your big secret, we say 'no thanks', and then you just let us go? How do you know we won't tell anyone?"

"Ah, yes, I did actually leave out one piece of information. Thank you, Jayne, for your question. Should you choose not to awaken your fae blood and realize your particular fae race, your memory of this test and everything I just told you will be erased by one of our colleagues who has that supernatural ability."

Finn cleared his throat and sat up a little. "Excuse me, Sir, I don't mean to be rude, but I need to ask: What's in it for us if we decide to do this thing - I mean, not get erased?"

"Another good question," Dardennes answered. "First, you will become what you truly are, the best possible version of yourself. Depending on which race of fae you are - and again we don't guarantee that you are fae, just that it is likely \- you will have supernatural abilities beyond those which you could scarcely imagine or ever experience without your fae blood being charged by our amulets. The things you saw in the forest done by our colleagues are but a fraction of what is possible for many of you."

Céline stepped forward. "You will join our community which is vast and varied. We are in every state in the United States of America and every country in Eastern and Western Europe, Africa, the Middle East, and the Orient, among other places. You will never again feel alone or lost or wonder what your purpose is. We all live and work together as a team. You will have a job, a place to live, and a family."

Niles stepped forward. "Many of you will also be trained to help us in our efforts to build our Light Fae forces and defend our way of life against the Dark Fae when necessary."

Spike spoke up again. "Do we get to choose which race we belong to?"

"No," answered Dardennes. "You have the blood of a certain race in your veins. The amulet merely wakes it up. We can try to guess what your race is by your current human qualities, but we are not always correct - and frankly, some of our races have died out over the years and occasionally we are confronted with a race we've never seen before ... one that hasn't walked the Earth in thousands of years. It's not often that this happens, but we have reason to believe it could happen with one of you." With this he looked pointedly at me. So did everyone else at the table.

Great. I'm a freak in the human world, and I'm probably a freak in the fae world too.

Tony reached over and squeezed my shoulder. Chase nodded at me supportively. Spike flashed me his trademark smile. For sure he was going to be an incubus. There was no getting around those teeth.

Finn was all business. "I think I'd like to discuss this with my friends before I make any kinda decision."

"Me too. And by 'friends', I also mean our friend Becky," I added.

"Fair enough," said Dardennes. "We will leave you to your discussion. In the meantime, food will be delivered and we invite you to relax and enjoy your meal while you talk."

"Ivar wasn't the chef, was he? 'Cause I'm not a big fan of his drinks," I said sarcastically.

Dardennes laughed. Céline and Ivar smiled. "No, Ivar was not the chef. One of our Green Elves was, and I think you will find they have a particularly supernatural skill when it comes to the manipulation of herbs and spices. It will be a vegetarian meal, but I'm sure you will find it more than satisfying."

I was so hungry at this point I would have happily eaten a dried pig's ear.

A door on the other side of the chamber opened and fae started walking in, carrying trays of food, dishes and utensils. Within ten minutes we all had plates loaded with food in front of us and ice-cold glasses of soda - and for Finn, a beer. He got a huge smile on his face when one of the dwarves put it down in front of him.

"Now that's what I'm talkin' 'bout."

I got an ice-cold soda, which was a little freaky, since I didn't remember telling anyone that was what I wanted. They must have a friggin mind reader in their group. That should provide some interesting entertainment, especially with this bunch.

Dardennes and his colleagues left, as did the servers and others who had put together our meal. We ate in silence for a few minutes, all of us too famished to talk. And I was also too hungry to worry about the food being poisoned. If they wanted to kill me at this point, well they could just go for it.

The door from the corridor opened and Becky stepped in. We all jumped up from the table and rushed over to hug her. She found herself nearly tackled to the floor in our enthusiasm.

"Wow, guys, I missed you too." Her face was all flushed and she was smiling.

Everyone but me went back to their seats. I just couldn't stop looking at her. "Becky ... I ... ," I couldn't get the rest of it out. I was choking up, tears gathering in my eyes.

Becky grabbed me in a super tight hug. "Shhh, I'm fine. I'm totally fine. I didn't die. I just ... had a little swim, that's all."

I laughed and cried at the same time. "I should have helped you. That watery bitch shouldn't have been able to get you. It's my fault."

Becky laughed, pulling me away from her so she could look at me. "It's a good thing I went into that water. I found my fae blood there. I discovered my true race. I'm happy, Jayne. If you hadn't made the choices you made, I may not be here right now. Those awful orcs might have gotten me ... or any number of other things."

"Really?" I said, wiping the tears off my face and the snot from under my nose.

"Yes, really. I'm totally serious."

"So what are you then? A vampire?"

Becky laughed. "No, silly. I'm a water sprite!" Her face broke out in a glorious grin that lit up the whole room.

"I guess I'm not surprised."

"I'm just glad I'm not a fire sprite. That water would have been a big problem for me."

I looked at her aghast, wondering how close I'd come to destroying her fae race thing or whatever.

"Kidding! I'm joking! Just relax, I'm fine, Jayne, geez. Lighten up."

I shook my head, going back to the table. "Fucking fairies."

Everyone laughed, even Chase. I punched him in the arm as I sat down.

"Becky, have a seat. We need to figure this out and since you're already in with those guys, maybe you can help shed some light on this thing," said Finn.

Becky sat down. "Okay, so what do you want to know?"

"First of all," I said, "what is this amulet thing?"

"Well, in my case it was a necklace. I put it on, and then after a few seconds, my fae blood kinda just woke up and I became a Changeling."

"What's the difference between a Changeling and a fae?" asked Tony.

"There is no difference. A Changeling is a fae - just one that's been awakened by the power in an amulet. The really old fae never lost touch with their heritage, so they never needed it."

"I thought a Changeling was something else - like when a fairy stole a baby or something, putting a fairy baby in its place."

"Yeah, a mix up in terminology or some of our history bleeding into the history of humans. In the old days, people used to have babies sometimes that cried all the time and made the moms crazy - so they'd say the baby was not really human, that a fairy had traded babies with them in the night. So they'd leave their baby outside for the fairies to get it, when instead it was probably a wolf or something that took the baby. Maybe some fae did come by and take the baby - or ate it - I don't know. I get stories from them, explanations, but I haven't asked about much more than that. As far as I know, the fae never put their babies in human baby cribs and stole the human one. What would be the point? It would be like a human putting their baby with a group of monkeys to raise."

Tony shrugged. I guess the explanation was good enough for him, although I couldn't help but be a little offended at being compared to a monkey. I didn't really care about the terminology though. I wanted to get to the good stuff.

"If we choose to be erased, how much of our memory gets taken away?" I looked at Tony. "There are many parts of my life I want to remember."

"I didn't have that done, obviously, but my understanding is you will be erased up to the point immediately prior to learning about the meeting at the hotel."

"Is the change painful?" This question came from Spike.

"No. It tingled, but it didn't hurt."

"Did you know how to use your abilities right away, or do you have to be trained?"

"Some are there right away and some need practice. I think it depends on your race. The witches need to learn spells and stuff. Some races are pretty powerful and need to learn how to control it."

"What kind of abilities does a water sprite have?" asked Finn, smiling.

Becky disappeared. She was there one second and the next, she was gone.

"This for one."

Finn jumped out of his seat, eyes like saucers on his face. "Holy shit, girl, you just scared the bejesus outta me!"

Becky giggled, now standing next to Finn's chair.

Spike was pointing at the door and then at Finn and then back at the door again. "You just ... you just ... "

"Yeah, I just kinda disappeared and then reappeared. Like teleporting."

"What's that got to do with water?" asked Tony, my little scientist.

"The air around us is what percentage water?" she asked, a little sass in her tone.

Tony nodded in appreciation, smiling. "Ah-haaaa, I see ... "

"Will they tell us what race they think we are before we become Changelings, if that's what we decide to do?"

"Yes; they've already discussed it." She looked a little anxiously over at me.

"Do you know what they said?" I asked, suddenly suspicious.

"Yes, they have included me in all their meetings and gatherings since I became a Changeling."

"Instant trust, eh?" I asked, not sure I believed it.

"Yes. Jayne they were not kidding when they said you instantly become a part of the community. I'm part of a very big, very close, very special family as a water sprite. The sirens and the water sprites are kinda related - like cousins I guess you could say. The Lady in the Lake is really actually very nice. You just have to get to know her. I really hope all of you decide to join too so you can see what I mean."

"So, what's the deal with Jared?" I asked.

Now that everyone finally agreed with me about our traitor friend, they listened intently for her answer.

"Jared is a daemon - not 'demon'. That's a different thing altogether. His race, the daemon, are warrior guardians. He also has a talent for hunting down and finding fae. He goes to cities around the world and finds recruits, bringing them back here for the test."

She twisted her hands nervously. "I know you guys are mad at him; but please, don't be. He's a super nice guy. He has a really important job and he takes it very seriously. He would never hurt anyone on purpose. He's trying to save his people. He wants you all to help. They could be your people too."

The room got quiet. All of our questions had been answered, or we didn't want to hear any more answers to our questions; I wasn't sure which it was.

Finn banged his hand down on the table. "Well, I don't know 'bout you guys, but I'm in. I got nothin' better goin' on in Florida. My family's gone, 'cept for my grandma, and she's gettin' pretty old. My dad's in prison, my ma's dead. I ain't got no brothers or sisters. I don't know what I'll become with this change, but anything's gotta be better'n being a starvin' runaway."

Finn looked at Spike. "What about you, man?"

Spike shrugged his shoulders. "I'm gonna do it, too. Life on the street's not bad, but I like the idea of being a part of something bigger. In Miami I was a part of ... I don't know ... the music scene ... a group of runaways. No offense to you guys, I love you all, but this feels like an opportunity I shouldn't pass up. I want to be the best Spike I can be. Huh ... kinda sounds like a military recruitment slogan." He smiled at me, then looked over at Chase. "What about you, Chase? You gonna join the fae army? Be all you can be?"

Chase looked at each of us slowly, then frowned, nodding his head. "Yep."

We all laughed. Leave it to Chase to bring us all back to what was real. It was a simple yes or no question. Do we want to be something else?

Becky was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. "What about you, Jayne? Are you gonna do it?"

I'd been hemming and hawing in my mind since the moment we were told we could choose to change who we are. I had tried to deny it to myself during the test. I had tried to deny it at the door of the obelisk. I had even tried to deny it in this room. But the truth was, my fondest desire was to be extraordinary. I didn't want to be the old Jayne anymore - the one who sat in high school History waiting for life to happen ... the one who feared men coming into her room at night ... the one who looked at amazing things and could only wonder what they might mean. I wanted to be special. I wanted to be more.

"I'm doing it. I just hope I don't turn into an orc."

Everyone laughed.

"I don't think you have to worry about that," said Becky, smiling.

"What about you, Tones, you in?"

I felt certain he was going to do it, only asking him as a formality. We were a team. We did everything together. Tony was my right hand man and my best friend. My brother from another mother.

"Well, I've thought about it, and believe me, it's definitely the opportunity of a lifetime; but I'm afraid I'm going to have to say no. I'm not going to be a Changeling. I'm just going to be Tony. I'm going to go home."

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Elle Casey is an American writer who lives in Southern France with her husband, three kids, Hercules the wonder poodle, and Monie the bouvier. In her spare time she writes women's fiction and young adult novels (you can find her Women's Fiction work under the pen name Kat Lee.)

A personal note from Elle ...

If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving positive feedback on Amazon, Goodreads, or any book blogs you participate in. More positive feedback means I can spend more time writing! Oh, and I love interacting with my readers, so if you feel like shooting the breeze or talking about books, please visit me. You can find me at ...

www.ElleCasey.com

www.Facebook.com/ellecaseytheauthor

www.Twitter.com/ellecasey

**OTHER BOOKS by ELLE CASEY**

War of the Fae: Book One, The Changelings

War of the Fae: Book Two, Call to Arms

War of the Fae: Book Three, Darkness & Light

War of the Fae: Book Four, New World Order

Clash of the Otherworlds: Book 1, After the Fall

Clash of the Otherworlds: Book 2, Between the Realms

Clash of the Otherworlds: Book 3, Portal Guardians

Duality 1 (Melancholia)

Duality 2 (Euphoria)

Apocalypsis: Book 1, Kahayatle

Apocalypsis: Book 2, Warpaint

Apocalypsis: Book 3, Exodus

Apocalypsis: Book 4, Haven

My Vampire Summer

My Vampire Fall (Coming Soon)

Wrecked

Reckless

Aces High

(co-written with Jason Brant)

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Once again I sit here thinking of all the people who helped make this book come alive and be available for my readers to purchase and enjoy. First, I must acknowledge my readers (Yay readers!). Without you, I'd be writing for just myself, and while I find writing soothing and self-fulfilling, it means ever so much more when it is shared with those who have enthusiasm for my characters and their adventures. So thank you, my lovely, awesome, kickass readers, for being there and reading, reading, reading so I can keep on writing, writing, writing. And a special shout-out to those who have left me reviews on Amazon.com, Goodreads.com, and the many, many book blogs out there. You guys are amazing. Book bloggers deserve a special note. These ladies and gentlemen read my books and tell people about them or give me space on their blogs to connect with their followers, thereby spreading the word about Elle Casey. My pool of readers continues to grow daily, thanks to you guys, so big hugs for you. I would like to acknowledge also my muse for this series of books, the band Breaking Benjamin - keep putting out that awesome music so I can continue to be inspired by you. --- Because I'm an indie author, I manage my own editing, cover art, promotion, etc. But I'm definitely not talented enough to do all that alone, so thanks to those who help me with the business of writing, including Beth Godwin and Maggie for their copy editing, CrashandEddie on elance for my cover art, and Craig Cowden for his amazing fae-inspired jewelry. --- And last, but not least, are my friends and family who support me in so many ways it would be impossible to list them all, but they include things like giving me a place to write (Lady Olivia!), taking care of my kids and beta reading (Hoanzie! Mom!), reading my books and telling people about them (friends and family!), and the other authors out there who have graciously sent me encouraging emails and Facebook posts. Thanks to all of you for making it possible for me to be a real, live writer.

#

# FAIRY METAL THUNDER

(Songs of Magic #1)

by

J. L. Bryan

Copyright 2011 Jeffrey L. Bryan. All rights reserved.

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

_For John_

Chapter One

After school, Jason rode his bicycle across town to Mitch's house for band practice, with his guitar case strapped to his back. His palms coated the handlebars with nervous sweat. He'd spent the whole day ignoring his teachers while he furiously scribbled lines of the new song, crossed them out, and rewrote them. He'd accumulated three notebook pages' worth of jumbled, blotchy words, plus ink stains all over his fingers.

During sixth period Social Studies, he had very carefully copied these bits of song onto a single page, using the most legible handwriting he could muster. He'd titled the song "Angel Sky" and then hesitated a minute before writing "For Erin" underneath the title. Then he'd folded it into neat squares and tucked it in his pocket, where it now burned like a handful of hot coals.

He paused at the top of Mitch's street. He could see Mitch's house, four doors down, the garage door open and waiting for him. He could hear Mitch warming up on the keyboard, the fake piano sound echoing through the tree-lined neighborhood.

Jason's nerves were rattling. He'd never shown the group any of his songs. Erin was the singer and the songwriter of the group. Like Jason, she was a junior at Chippewa Falls High. Unlike Jason, she was actually talented at writing lyrics.

"Hey, little kid, need a ride?" a girl's voice asked. He jumped in surprise and nearly fell from his bike. While he was lost in thought, Dred had pulled up alongside him in her beaten-up '97 Chevy van. She snickered at Jason. Dred was a year older, close to graduation. She was a broad-shouldered girl who liked Doc Martins and ragged plaid shirts.

"You're hilarious," Jason said.

"Race you!" Dred stomped her gas pedal until she was halfway down the street, then slammed her brakes and twisted into Mitch's driveway.

"Yeah, that's fair," Jason muttered as he pedaled down the street. Dred--or "Mildred" if you wanted to get punched in the face--was the band's drummer. She was a senior like Mitch, a year older than Jason and Erin. Her van was perfect for transporting the band to gigs. Hopefully, they would actually have a gig one day.

Jason turned into Mitch's driveway and parked his bike just outside the open garage. Dred was already there, juggling her drumsticks as she sat down behind her drum kit.

"Yo, Jason!" Mitch said. He sat at the keyboard, his long hair unleashed from the plaid driving hat he usually wore, and he pushed his John Lennon-style glasses higher on his nose. His t-shirt depicted ghosts chasing Pac-Man through a maze. Pac-Man's thought balloon read: "This is a stupid way to live."

Behind Mitch hung a poster of pop star Claudia Lafayette, in concert, wearing a pink dress and a headset with a microphone, pointing straight out to the audience while she sang. Mitch claimed the poster of the cheesy singer, whose bubble-gum songs could stick in your ear and repeat themselves all day long, was supposed to be ironic. He said the same about his Claudia Lafayette T-shirt.

"What's up?" Jason asked.

"Just stoking the flames." Mitch resumed playing his keyboard, switching it to a deep electric organ sound. "Making the magic happen, man."

Jason sat in a lawn chair and took his guitar out of the case. He plucked a few chords and tried to tune it, but couldn't hear anything over the keyboard.

When he looked up, he realized Erin had arrived, and his heart skipped. He gave her an awkward smile and tried not to stare. He thought Erin was beautiful, with her intense green eyes and blond hair dyed with blue and green streaks. Her hair was long and usually hung down all over her face. Jason always wanted to brush her hair back behind her ear so he could see her better.

He waved to her, but she'd already turned away to hang her jacket on a hook over the workbench.

"About time!" Mitch yelled over the noise. Then he realized he was the source of the noise and stopped playing the keyboard. "Where have you been?"

"Zach had to drop off a couple other people first," Erin said. "Chill out, Mitch."

"It's _Mick_ ," Mitch said.

"You can't be Mick. Mick isn't short for Mitch," Dred said. "It's for Mickey, or maybe Michael--"

"Don't tell me what nickname I can be... _Mildred_ ," Mitch said. "It's a free country."

"Don't call me Mildred!"

"Don't tell me I can't be Mick!"

"Okay, kids," Erin said. "Do you want to fight, or do you want to play?"

"Fight," Dred replied. She aimed a drumstick at Mitch's head.

"I'll be ready as soon as you admit that I can use 'Mick' for my stage name. It's really not that far from Mitch--"

Dred interrupted him with a short, loud drum solo, ending with a cymbal crash. Mitch scowled.

Jason tried to work up the nerve to tell Erin he'd written a song for her, but he couldn't seem to get his mouth working. Though he'd gone to school with Erin since her parents moved to Chippewa Falls back in ninth grade, he hadn't spoken with her very much at all. The sight of her always seemed to lock up his mouth, and his brain along with it. He'd been thrilled when Mitch asked Jason to join their band a couple of months earlier. According to Mitch, their previous guitarist had been "a total spaz who never showed up for practice."

Instead of talking, Jason strummed his guitar to warm up his fingers.

"Good," Erin said. "At least somebody takes this seriously."

"Let's go," Mitch said. He played his fingers across the keys, and an electrically synthesized piano buzzed over the speakers.

Erin blew a short tune on her harmonica, then spoke into an imaginary microphone.

"Hello, Wisconsin!" she shouted. Mitch played the sound of an audience applauding from his synthesizer. "We are the Assorted Zebras! Who's ready to rock?"

"Don't say that," Dred said. "It's cheesy."

"Just count us off, Dred," Mitch said.

"What are we playing?" Dred asked.

"This is a song I wrote for my boyfriend Zach," Erin told the imaginary audience. "It's called 'The First Road Out of Here.'"

Dred tapped out a beat, and then Mitch and Jason joined in with the keyboard and guitar. The song started slow, with long, sad sounds from Erin's harmonica. Then she sang:

_We've been in this town so long,_

_I forgot the world outside..._

_So let's escape tonight,_

_It's time to take a ride..._

Then the song became loud and fast.

_Let's run together_

_To that place where there's no fear,_

_The place we want to go,_

_The first road out of here!_

Jason's fingers flew across his strings as the tempo accelerated. A few little kids from the neighborhood, three boys and a girl, showed up on bikes and scooters and sat in the driveway to listen, as they sometimes did. Erin smiled and waved, clearly delighted to have an audience, even if they were in elementary school and one boy was more interested in picking his nose than watching the show. Two of the kids were even nice enough to applaud when the song ended.

"Can you play some Weird Al?" the nose-picking boy requested.

"Yeah, do a Weird Al polka!" another boy said.

"We're just practicing our own songs right now," Erin told them. "Want to hear those?"

"Who cares?" the biggest boy asked. He rode away on his scooter, and the two other boys followed. The little girl remained, but rested her chin in her hand and looked bored.

"I've got something fun," Erin said. "It's called 'Cinderella Night.' Want to hear it?"

"I guess," the little girl sighed.

Dred tapped out four beats, then Jason and Mitch joined in. Erin sang the upbeat song about a girl sneaking out and meeting a boy in a nightclub.

The little girl smiled, entertained at last.

They played two more of Erin's songs. Jason tried not to pay attention to Erin's hips swaying as she danced, or the pale stretch of her belly that sometimes peeked out over her low-slung jeans. He tried to focus on making the music.

Erin stopped halfway through the third song.

"We need to mix it up," Erin said. "It's all fast, dancey stuff."

"What we really need is a killer love song," Mitch said. "One of those everybody-get-out-your-lighter things."

"I don't have anything like that," Erin said.

"Maybe I'll write one," Mitch said.

"You? Writing a love song?" Dred snorted.

"Like you could do better," Mitch said. "Yours would probably end with the girl killing her boyfriend and burying him in the back yard."

"I think your songs are good, Erin," Jason said.

"Thanks, Jason, but Mitch is right. We need a good, slow love song. I just don't know how to write something like that."

Jason's hand dropped to his jeans pocket. The song was folded up there, "Angel Sky," all about falling in love. He hesitated, wishing he hadn't written "For Erin" underneath the song title. Everybody would laugh at him if they saw that. Erin would probably think he was a weirdo for writing a song for her.

"I'll be right back," Jason said. He put his guitar aside and walked toward the door into the house.

"Whoa, hold it," Mitch said. He stopped Jason with a hand on his elbow. "Where are you going?"

"The bathroom." Jason planned to find a pen inside the house and scratch out the dedication. Then he could show everyone the song without getting ragged on. Or at least, they'd pick on him a little less. And Erin wouldn't decide he was an obsessive stalker freak to be avoided.

"No way. My mom says nobody's allowed in the house when she's not home," Mitch told him.

"Since when?" Dred asked.

"She says some of her jewelry's gone missing or something."

"And she thinks we stole it?" Dred asked.

"Well, my mom didn't accuse any of you of stealing, exactly," Mitch said, but he glanced at Dred. "She just says nobody's allowed in the house if she's not home. She's doing the night shift at the hospital, so that's a long time. Jason, why don't you go whizz in the back yard?"

"Oh," Jason said. That wouldn't help. Jason doubted he would find a pen or marker out back.

"What's wrong?" Mitch asked. "Were you going to drop a number two?"

Jason felt his face turn red. Why did Mitch have to say something like that right in front of Erin?

"He was!" Dred said. "Look at him blush."

"I wasn't!" Jason said.

"Yeah, right," Mitch said. "Just hold it, man."

"I'm..." Jason realized he couldn't think of a single thing to say that would make this conversation less humiliating. He wished he could escape into a hole in the earth somewhere, and maybe never come back.

He was saved by an even worse turn of events. A red Mitsubishi Spyder pulled into the driveway with its top down. This was Zach Wagner, a senior over at the Catholic high school, who was best known for modeling in the "Plaidwear" section of the Fleet Farm catalog since he was thirteen. He had flawless skin, a haircut that probably cost a hundred dollars, and dark blue eyes. Erin's boyfriend.

Zach stood up inside his car and drummed his hands on the top of the windshield. He pushed his sunglasses on top of his forehead. "Let's go, Erin! Those orphans aren't going to entertain themselves."

"What's up, Zach?" Mitch waved, falling into suck-up mode at the sight of Chippewa's most famous male model.

"Yo, Mick! Dred! New guitar guy!" Zach gave a mocking little salute. "Sorry to take your singer away, but we've got a busy night of important stuff."

"You're leaving already?" Dred asked Erin.

"I have to. We're going to a benefit for Stuffed Animals for Orphans, over in Minneapolis. Zach says everyone else in the Minneapolis acting community is helping out." Erin gathered up her purse.

"He's not an actor," Jason said. "He's a male model."

"You can't go now," Dred said. "We have the audition next week."

"Erin! Yo! Orphans! Stuffed animals!" Zach shouted.

"I'm coming!" Erin grabbed her backpack.

"You guys want us to play at the benefit?" Mitch shouted to Zach. "Cause we could do that. We can just pack it up into Dred's van and follow you to the Cities."

"Um...thanks anyway, Mick!" Zach said, with a wink and a thumbs up. "Stuffed Animals for Orphans appreciates your support. In fact, if you guys want to make a donation, I'll pass it along. There are lots of orphans out there who don't have stuffed animals."

"Oh, that's a good idea," Erin said. "Does anybody want to donate?"

Mitch grumbled something under his breath as he took out his wallet and gave Erin a couple of dollars. Dred donated a five-dollar bill from her money clip.

Erin smiled at Jason as she walked toward him, holding out her hand.

Jason searched all his pockets. He came up with twelve cents.

"Sorry, I don't have more on me," Jason said sheepishly. That's me, he thought, no money and no car.

"That's okay. Thanks." Erin gave him a quick half of a hug. "I'll be back here for rehearsal tomorrow."

Jason watched her climb into the car with Zach, kiss him, and drop into the passenger seat. He felt a little despair as they pulled out of the driveway and drove away.

"You know, I like that guy," Mitch said.

Jason nodded. Everybody liked Zach, of course. Perfect Zach.

Chapter Two

Jason sat at the dinner table, where his father read the newspaper, and his six-year-old sister Katie was sculpting what looked like a hippopotamus out of her mashed potatoes.

"George, stop reading at the table," Jason's mom said as she placed a platter of bratwurst and sauerkraut on the table. "Katie, stop playing with your food. Can't we have a nice family dinner here?"

Jason helped himself to a brat and spooned mustard onto his plate.

"What's wrong with you, Jason?" his mom asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You look so sad."

"I'm okay." Jason shrugged and poked listlessly at the bratwurst. On the inside, he was beating himself up for not showing Erin the song, for being stupid enough to actually put her name on it, and for letting Mitch embarrass him in front of her. The song was still folded in his pocket, unseen by anyone.

"You know--George, would you _please_ stop reading that paper?--we talked about you at the Lutheran Ladies meeting yesterday."

"Me or Dad?" Jason asked.

"You, Jason. Do you know Mrs. Dullahan, over on the east end of town?"

"The witch?" Katie asked.

"Katie! She is not a witch. She's just a very lonely old woman with nobody to help her. I can't believe you would say that."

"Everybody knows Mrs. Dullahan's a witch!" Katie said. "If you trick-or-treat at her house, she'll turn you into a toad."

"That is not true, Katie," Jason's mom said. "Don't say such awful things about people."

"She is scary," Jason said. "Kip Ericson threw a football over her wall one time, and it came back all flat and burned up."

"Kip Ericson shouldn't be harassing old ladies," Jason's mom said. "Anyway. Jason. She lives all alone in that big house of hers, and she's so elderly. It's obvious she's having trouble keeping up her yard."

"Good thing most of it's hidden behind that wall," Jason's dad commented, without looking up from the paper. "What you can see is an eyesore."

"She can hardly be expected to do yard work at her age," Jason's mom said.

"How old is she, anyway?" Jason asked.

"A hundred and fifty!" Katie volunteered.

"Nobody's a hundred and fifty, Katie," Jason's mom said. "But she's very elderly, and she clearly can't do for herself. That's why I decided to volunteer my capable yet unemployed son to go and help her around the house."

"You said what?" Jason asked, startled.

"Just little things," his mom told him. "Mow the lawn, trim those wild shrubs, maybe do something about all that moss on her wall."

"Those don't sound like little things," Jason said.

"She'll turn you into a toad!" Katie said.

"Katie, enough! Jason, it would be nice if you would do a few things to help out your elders. It builds character. The poor woman's completely cut off from everyone."

"Maybe she likes being cut off," Jason said. "How do we even know she wants help?"

"Why wouldn't she?" his mom asked.

"Anyway, I'm busy with school." Jason hated the idea of going to Mrs. Dullahan's house. Every kid in town learned to fear her. Terrible stories were whispered about her. Jason was old enough to know that she wasn't really a witch or anything supernatural, but he couldn't help feeling scared of her anyway.

"School didn't stop you from working at the car wash," his dad said. "Might as well find something useful to do with yourself, now that you quit your job."

"Dad, I told you, I only got that job so I could save up for my guitar. Now I don't need to work anymore."

"Must be nice," his dad said, returning his attention to the paper.

"I don't know what's gotten into you with that guitar," his mom said. "You hardly ever practice your clarinet anymore. You'll have to work a lot harder if you want to be first chair in the school band next year."

"I'm not too worried about that," Jason said.

"You'd better worry about it. That Laura Wu is going to be serious competition for you," his mom said. "I want to see you working hard."

"I don't really like the clarinet. I like the guitar."

"What's not to like about the clarinet?" His mom looked scandalized. "You used to love your clarinet."

"I wouldn't say I loved it."

"Well, I was first chair clarinet in my high school band," his mom said. "If I can manage it, you can, too. And your father's right, we can't just let you loaf around with your friends all summer."

"We're not loafing, we're rehearsing."

"What you're not doing is _working_ ," his dad said. "You know, at a job? If you want to come to Bill's House of Tractor with me, Bill might be able to find work for you." Jason's dad sold farm equipment at Bill's, a large retailer in Eau Claire.

"Um..." Jason said. The idea of having his dad for his boss wasn't quite as terrifying as the thought of going to Mrs. Dullahan's house, but it was up there.

"Why don't you drop by Mrs. Dullahan's tomorrow afternoon?" his mom said. "Introduce yourself and volunteer to help out? That would be so nice."

"She'll probably think I'm trying to scam her."

"A nice young man like you?" his mom asked. "Besides, you'll be bringing one of Dotty Schuler's famous muffin baskets. That should settle any of her concerns."

"I can't tomorrow," Jason said. "We have rehearsal. There's an audition at The Patch in Minneapolis next week."

"Oh, I don't know," his mother said. "I don't like the idea of you going into the Cities with you friends. That's a rough area. You could get into trouble."

"There aren't any rough areas in Minneapolis," Jason said. "You make it sound like Las Vegas."

"Don't smartmouth your mother," his dad said.

"I'm not, Dad!"

"Don't yell at your father," his mom said. "I don't want to hear any more nonsense about this. You're going to Mrs. Dullahan's tomorrow, and you're going to be pleasant and useful."

Jason sighed and stirred his mashed potatoes.

Chapter Three

After school on Friday, Jason picked up a cellophane-wrapped, ribbon-topped muffin basket from Mrs. Schuler, who ran a small gift shop in town. He pedaled over to Mrs. Dullahan's, whose house was several streets away from his own, at the dead end of a road just outside town. It was atop a small hill, surrounded by huge old trees whose limbs gnarled together to form a dark canopy. The weeds under the trees were thick as cornstalks.

Jason rode his bike up the short length of driveway and stopped at the gate. A high brick wall, thick with moss and mold, blocked most of Mrs. Dullahan's lawn from view. He could see one wooden turret of her house beyond it, with its single narrow window shuttered tight.

The gate itself was a massive pair of wooden doors, inscribed with strange floral and geometric designs, and these were full of moss, too. The whole area around her house felt chilly, though the rest of the town was warmed nicely by the May sunlight. It was nearly summer.

A rusty metal box, with little speaker holes and a single unmarked button, was built into the brick wall by the gate. Jason felt uneasy as he pushed the button.

He stood there for a minute, waiting. Apparently, she wasn't going to answer, and that was a relief. He turned his bike around.

"Who's there?" a raspy voice clicked out from the rusty box.

"Oh!" Jason said. "Um, hi, Mrs. Dullahan. My name is Jason Becker. My mom and the Lutheran Ladies sent me over here." The lady didn't say anything, so he added, "Yeah...They said I should help you with yard work or something."

"Go away," the lady's voice replied.

"Okay," Jason said. "Should I just leave the muffin basket by the gate, or....?"

"Go away!"

"All right, sorry!" Jason started to put the muffin basket down, but then reconsidered. If the old lady didn't want it, he could bring it to band practice for everybody to eat. Maybe Erin would like that.

He pedaled to Mitch's house with the muffin basket dangling from his handlebar. Dred's van was in the driveway, and the garage door was wide open, but no music was roaring out.

"What's wrong?" Jason asked as he parked his bike just outside the garage. He set the muffin basket on the workbench. "Can't play without me?"

Mitch, Dred and Erin were in the garage, but they weren't touching their instruments. Instead, they were moving boxes aside and looking carefully at the floor, searching for something.

"I lost my necklace," Erin said. "The gold one with the little emeralds on the pendant? Have you seen it anywhere, Jason?"

"No, sorry. You lost it here?"

"I don't know. I've been looking everywhere." Erin's eyes were glistening like she wanted to cry, but she was holding it back. "I've searched at home, at school, at The Creamery..."

"We'll find it," Mitch said. He looked around the base of the drum kit.

"I already checked there," Dred said.

"I'll help." Jason knelt and peered under the workbench on one side of the garage. He knew the necklace Erin was talking about. She wore it almost every day. It matched her green eyes. "When was the last time you saw it?"

"A couple days ago. I don't really remember."

"We've been looking for fifteen minutes. I'm pretty sure it's not here," Dred said.

Erin frowned and turned her face away from everyone. She crossed her arms. "Never mind. I'm sorry for wasting everybody's time. Thanks for trying."

"I'll check out in the yard." Jason walked outside to look over the driveway and the grass.

In the garage, Dred tapped impatiently on her drums.

"Thanks, anyway, Jason," Erin said. "Let's just play."

"You sure?" Jason asked. "I can keep looking."

"Nah, it's cool." Erin shook her head and tucked a lock of green hair behind her ear. "Forget I said anything, okay? We have to practice for the audition."

Jason took his guitar out of the case, which he'd left in Mitch's garage the previous night. "I meant to tell you guys, I can't come tomorrow night, either. I have to babysit Katie."

"That's two days in a row," Mitch said. "The audition is next week, Jason. I told you when you joined, you have to take the band seriously."

"I do take it seriously! My parents don't. I can't help it."

"You miss practice today, you miss it again tomorrow--" Mitch said.

"I didn't miss it today, though. Mrs. Dullahan didn't want me at her house any more than I wanted to be there." Jason held up the muffin basket. "Who wants a muffin? Erin, chocolate chip?"

"Thanks! I could use some chocolate." Erin smiled at him, and he suddenly felt soft and warm inside.

Jason punched through the cellophane and handed the muffins out. Mitch took both raspberry muffins and stuffed them in his mouth, puffing out his cheeks like a chipmunk.

"So, no more missing practice," Mitch said to Jason, spraying wet muffin bits as he spoke. "Got it?"

"I have to stay home tomorrow," Jason said. "I'll be lucky if my parents even let me go to the audition. My mom's still not sure. It's a school night."

"Dude, you're seventeen already," Dred said. "You should be able to go anywhere you want."

"Okay, just call my mom and tell her that," Jason said.

"You're not going to make the audition?" Mitch asked, looking alarmed.

"I'll make it. I can handle my parents. But that means staying home tomorrow."

"Work it out," Mitch said. "Don't miss another practice after tomorrow. And don't mess up this audition!"

"I won't," Jason said. He looked at Erin. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yep, don't worry about me. I'm the happiest girl in the world." Erin said. She blew cheerful notes on the harmonica. "Let's play."

Chapter Four

Saturday night, Jason sat at home in his living room, his guitar in his lap, trying to pick out the music for "Angel Sky," the song he'd written for Erin. He was having trouble getting the music and lyrics to flow together.

His mother had dragged his father to a collectible ceramics convention in Minneapolis, an hour away, and they still weren't back.

"Jason?" Katie asked. She stood in the doorway of the living room in her Bert and Ernie pajamas.

"What is it, Katie?"

"Um..." She fidgeted, looking nervous.

"What's wrong? You should be sleeping."

"I know, but...there's a monster."

Jason sighed and put his guitar down. "Did you have a bad dream?"

"It's not a dream! I saw it go into Mom and Dad's room."

"If it's not in your room, you don't have anything to worry about."

"But I could be next!" Katie looked terrified.

"You're completely safe, Katie. There's no monster."

"Is too!"

"Okay." Jason stood up and stretched. "Let's go check it out. I'll show you there's nothing to be scared of."

"Thanks, Jason." She took his hand as he walked toward the steps, something she hadn't done in a couple of years. She really was frightened.

They walked upstairs and to the end of the short hall in their split-level house. Katie stayed back, clinging to the frame of her bedroom door, while Jason approached the master bedroom.

"See, Katie?" he said. "Mom and Dad's door is still closed. How could a monster get into their room?"

"He just went puff," Katie said.

"He went puff, huh?" Jason said. He had no idea what that meant, but Katie had a very busy imagination.

Jason pushed open the door to his parents' room and glanced inside. "See, Katie, there's no...."

But Jason _had_ seen something. He looked again.

There it was--a small creature, about two feet high, standing on his parents' dresser. It looked like a tiny person, dressed in a ratty, dirty wool overcoat, with a woolen cap pulled low over its eyes. Its pudgy green hands pawed through his mother's jewelry box. Jason watched the creature drop a pair of ruby earrings into a pocket of its coat.

"Hey!" Jason said.

The little creature jumped and spun around to face him. Its face was green and ugly, with an underbite, its eyes big and yellow under the low bill of the cap.

"What are you?" Jason asked.

The thing growled a little, then disappeared in a puff of green smoke. It reappeared in the space in front of the dresser, near the bottom drawer, and landed on its feet, which were clad in small, badly cracked leather shoes. It ran across the carpet to the window. It disappeared in another green puff, then reappeared standing on the windowsill.

"Stop!" Jason yelled. "Give that back!"

The little creature stuck out its dark green tongue at Jason, then disappeared with another puff of smoke. It reappeared on the little ledge outside the window, waved at Jason with a smile full of yellow, crooked teeth, and then hopped out of sight.

"Hey!" Jason ran to the window and opened it. He saw the creature blink in and out of visibility as it tumbled to the back yard, leaving a trail of green smoke fading in the air.

Jason hurried out of his parents' room, past Katie, who was crouching behind her door, poking out her head.

"Did you see the monster?" she whispered.

"Don't worry, I chased it away." Jason started down the steps. "But it stole some jewelry from Mom. I'll go get it back."

Katie stepped out of her room and walked to the top stair.

"Can I come?" she asked.

"No, Katie! Wait here. I'll be right back."

"But I want to come with!" Katie crossed her arms and pouted.

"No! I'm serious, Katie."

Jason ran through the living room and out onto their concrete slab of a patio. He saw the little green man trampling through a flower bed at the edge of the yard. The creature reached the neighbor's split-rail fence and puffed through it.

Jason raced to the fence and leaped over. When his shoes hit the ground, the creature turned its green face to look back at him, snarled, and put on speed. It puffed in and out of sight, jumping forward about a foot each time.

Jason hurried to keep up as the creature shot forward across his neighbor's lawns. The little thing could move fast, but Jason had much longer legs than it did, and he gained on the creature.

He was determined to catch it, and not just to recover his mother's stolen earrings. If this little monster was the one who'd been stealing jewelry all over town, then it might have Erin's necklace, too. Jason could already imagine how happy Erin would be when Jason returned it to her.

He chased the creature into Mrs. Gottfried's yard, which was full of toy windmills and fake plastic birds. Jason caught up with it and reached one hand down to grab the creature by the scruff of its neck. Then the creature disappeared in another green puff, and Jason realized too late that the little monster had led him directly toward a low stone bench. Jason was running too fast to stop.

His shins cracked into the bench, and Jason spilled forward, falling among a family of plastic ducks.

Ahead of him, the little creature turned and laughed, revealing its crooked yellow teeth again. Its laughter sounded like a hyena.

By the time Jason scrambled to his feet, the green creature was across Mrs. Gottfried's lawn and puffing its way across the main road outside Jason's neighborhood.

Jason chased him through three more neighborhoods, activating motion-detector lights here and there when he came too close to a house. The little green guy seemed to have no effect on the motion detectors--they only clicked to life when Jason passed.

Then Jason chased him down an overgrown trail through the woods. The green creature reached a brick wall ahead, stuck its tongue out at Jason while waving the stolen earrings, then vanished in a puff of smoke.

Jason reached the wall and slapped his hands uselessly against it. The wall was ten feet high, covered in moss and mold. Jason realized it was the wall around Mrs. Dullahan's yard.

"Come back here!" Jason yelled. He thought he heard a hyena-ish giggle on the other side.

Jason picked one of the tall old trees next to the wall and climbed it as quickly as he could. He scrambled out on a thick limb over the wall, struggling to catch his breath. He'd been running nonstop.

Below him, the deep black shadows of Mrs. Dullahan's yard were scarcely pierced by the thin moonlight. It was inhabited by big old oak trees, almost as dense as a forest. The few patches of ground he could see were overgrown with tall weeds as thick as bamboo, and for a moment he was just glad he didn't have to mow her yard for her.

Then Jason saw a streak of weeds ripple, as if a rabbit were dashing between them.

He didn't have time to find a safe way down. Jason held his breath and dropped from the limb into the darkness below.

Something hard and wooden, the size of a shoebox, crunched under his ribs as he slammed into the ground.

Jason rolled up to his feet and looked at his aching side. He'd landed on what looked like a carved wooden squirrel, its mouth and eyes wide with fright. The fearful expression was heightened by the fact that Jason had just broken its head from its body.

Looking around, his eyes adjusting to the shadows and moonlight, he saw more little wooden creatures--toads and rabbits and even a full-size deer. A wooden owl perched on a limb overhead.

All around him, little paths paved with moss twisted through the high weeds.

The paths snaked across the yard, curving across each other at little intersections. Each path ended at one of the giant old trees, at ornate little doors no more than a foot or two high, which appeared to be built into the tree trunks. He saw the little green creature scurry through an arched green door in a dark elm tree. It pulled the door most of the way shut.

Jason jumped after him, grabbing the tiny knob just before the door closed. The brass doorknob was the size of a child's marble in his fingers.

"Hey, come back!" Jason yelled. He pulled the door open, but the little green creature was nowhere in sight.

The interior of the tree was hollow. A series of roots formed a kind of staircase that spiraled down below the tree, out of sight.

"You're kidding," Jason said. He looked up at the dark shape of Mrs. Dullahan's house against the night sky. Maybe she wasn't a witch, but there was definitely something strange going on at her place.

Jason stuck his head into the open door. He looked up, into the hollow shaft of the tree, but it was completely dark.

Below, around the bend of the root-steps, he saw the slight glow of distant light. He could hear the faintest hint of music, and smell traces of wet, blossoming flowers and baking bread in the air.

He put his hands inside the tree and crept forward as far as he could. He scrunched his shoulders and squeezed deeper inside, looking a little farther around the curve.

Somehow, he was able to fit even more of himself through the door, as if it expanded slightly for him. He crawled further down and around the root-and-dirt staircase, worried that the little green creature might pop out and hit him, or maybe bite him in the nose, but he was too curious to stop now.

The curving space seemed to widen even more as he crawled forward, so he could let his shoulders relax and spread out. He crawled down another twist of the steps, and then he was completely inside the tree.

The stairwell grew even wider as he moved forward on his hands and knees. The walls were made of packed dirt and more tree roots, and a few fireflies provided some light along the way. These fireflies were much larger and brighter than any he'd seen before, and their light was red and orange.

He crawled around and around, and soon the stairwell was wide enough for him to stand, though he had to almost double over, his back brushing against the ceiling.

He followed it down and down, around and around. Had it been a staircase in a building, he would have descended five or six stories by now. He kept going.

Finally, after hundreds of steps, he reached a door. He seemed to be standing inside the round shaft of the tree trunk, though he should have been deep underground now, far below the roots of the elm tree. Golden sap dripped along the heartwood walls. His hands were covered in the sticky stuff, and probably his shirt, which felt glued to his back.

The door in front of him looked just like the green arched door he'd entered above, except much larger. He would still have to duck his head to pass through it, but he wouldn't need to crawl.

Jason touched the brass doorknob, and then he hesitated. None of this made any sense. How could there be such a long staircase under the tree? And where could this door possibly lead? Was he going to be attacked by a bunch of angry little green creatures on the other side?

Then he remembered his purpose--recover Erin's necklace, and his mom's earrings, from the little green creature, who was probably still running away from him.

Jason took a deep breath and pushed open the little door.

Chapter Five

The door opened onto a cobblestone road curving through a dark forest. A number of the trees beside the road had little doors built into them. Jason turned and saw that he'd just emerged from a tree himself. He looked up along the trunk and saw it branched out into little limbs overhead, like a normal tree. Impossible. How could it be connected to the tree in Mrs. Dullahan's yard?

It was nighttime, but the forest was illuminated by swarms of fireflies, which glowed in a bright spectrum of winking colors--shimmering gold, fire-red, sunset orange.

He stepped onto the road, and a wooden cart came clattering around the bend. It was drawn by a pair of shaggy blue goats, and driven by what looked like a small girl with long sapphire blue hair that streamed out behind her like a cape.

"Out of the way, road-troll!" she shouted, and Jason scrambled back off the road. As she rocketed past, he thought he saw a pair of waxy, gossamer wings protruding from her shoulder blades. Little glass bottles full of frothy blue milk gleamed in the cart behind her, packed into place with golden hay.

Jason watched her clatter away around the next bend. She passed a low figure in a ratty woolen coat and hat, who strolled along the side of the road. It looked exactly like the little green man Jason had been chasing, only it was three or four feet tall now. Clearly, the creature believed it had escaped Jason. It was even whistling while it walked.

Jason ran up behind it. The creature heard his footsteps and looked back with a smirk, but then gasped and widened its yellow eyes when it saw Jason. The creature lowered his head and began to run.

"Stop!" Jason yelled. He grabbed the creature's arm, turned it around to face him, and then lifted it up by its shoulders.

"You can't be here!" The creature struggled in his grasp, kicking at Jason's chest and stomach. "You must go back!"

"Where are we?" Jason asked.

"You don't know?" The creature breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Good. Just go back and forget all that you've seen."

"No. You stole something from my house."

"Ah, yes." The creature reached into one of the many pockets in his coat and brought out the ruby earrings. "There you are. Now take them and leave. Go back through the same door. Your life is in danger as long as you're here."

"And the necklace," Jason said.

"Necklace, necklace...I don't believe I took a necklace from your house, young sir."

"Erin's necklace. Gold and emeralds."

"Doesn't ring a bell."

"You know you stole it from Erin a few days ago," Jason said. He gave the little creature a shake. "Give it back."

"Yes, yes! Anything's possible. Just put me down so I can check my pockets."

"Forget it."

"I won't run!" The creature gave a toothy, yellow smile, as if trying to appear innocent. "I swear it by the Sacred Cesspool of Gorbulorgh."

"The what?"

"The ancestral homeland of goblins!" The little creature looked at him indignantly.

"You're a goblin?" Jason asked.

"Naturally. What did you think?"

"I don't know...a leprechaun?"

"Leprechauns! I spit on leprechauns! I tie their shoelaces together to make them trip and fall! Leprechauns, indeed!"

"Just give me her necklace."

"As I said, I cannot search my pockets in my present position. You must put me down."

"Don't even think about running again."

"I had truthfully not considered it, young sir."

Jason carefully set the goblin on his feet, but held tight to the collar of his coat. The goblin reached into various pockets, pulling out rings, jeweled broaches, golden watches. "Necklace...necklace...ah! There you are!"

The goblin held out a silver, heart-shaped locket.

"That's not it," Jason said. "It's gold, with emeralds, like I said."

"So picky!" The goblin pulled more shiny objects out of more pockets. "I don't seem to have such a thing. I do apologize, young sir."

"Where is it?"

"I must have added it to my stash-hole at home. Are you sure you wouldn't prefer a nice diamond bracelet instead?"

"I want that necklace," Jason said.

"Understood, understood," the goblin said. "Allow me to make an offer. You return home the way you came, and never speak of what you saw here. Tomorrow night, I will return this necklace to your home."

"No. I want it now."

"That's not possible!" the goblin said. "I cannot take you with me into Sidhe City. The Queen would have me killed for leading a human here. And you too, for entering her realm uninvited."

"I'm not letting you go," Jason said. "I'm not stupid. I know you'll never come back."

"I am insulted, young sir."

"Just take me to where her necklace is. I'll leave as soon as I have Erin's necklace in my hand, okay?"

"It would be better if you waited here," the goblin said. "Hide behind those trees. I'll be right back."

"You're not getting away from me," Jason said.

The goblin sighed and slumped his shoulders. He looked ahead on the road, in the direction where he'd been walking.

"Slouch," the goblin said.

"What did you call me?"

"I'm telling you to slouch. Make yourself shorter. Snarl up your lips and try not to look so...human. You don't want everyone in the city staring at you."

"I shouldn't look _human_? Where are we, really?"

"Your kind call this the Otherworld."

Jason gave him a blank stare. "What are you talking about?"

"Annwn. Tïr na nǑg. Faerie. Am I jingling anything loose yet?" the goblin asked.

"Fairies? Like little people with wings? That's crazy..." Jason thought of the small woman with the translucent wings who'd just driven past. "Are you serious?"

"Obviously, you know nothing of fairies," the goblin snorted. "Or you would show more fear."

"We're talking about little people with little wings, right? Like in Peter Pan?" He pointed ahead. "You're saying that girl was a _fairy_?"

"The most fearsome creatures in the realm," the goblin said. "It's why they get to name the realm, you see?"

"Whatever." Jason shook his head. He couldn't imagine little pixies with colorful wings as dangerous. The goblin was obviously just trying to scare him. "Let's get going. I need to get back home."

"More than you know," the goblin said. He began walking, and Jason stayed close beside him in case he tried to run.

"What's your name?" Jason asked. "Do goblins have names?"

"We have names!" the goblin snapped. "I am called Grizlemor the Cranky. And you?"

"Jason."

"Just Jason?"

"Jason the Guy Who Wants That Necklace Back."

The goblin sighed again. "When we reach the city, look no one in the eye. Say nothing. Just keep behind me and try not to draw attention to yourself."

The road led them to a great mound of a city, where the buildings were made of stone and live trees with sprawling roots and limbs. The city was arranged in terraces rising up the hillside. High above them, the top of the hill was encircled by a towering wall built of golden hexagonal bricks.

"What's that?" Jason asked, pointing to the huge wall.

"Don't point!" Grizlemor slapped Jason's hand down. "It's rude. That is the Queen's palace. We want to stay far from there. Don't even look in that direction."

"Okay, calm down," Jason said. "You really are cranky."

They walked under a high stone archway carved with the images of flowers and animals. As they stepped into the city, the cobblestone road beneath their feet turned into a street of brightly colored crushed pebbles.

Big swarms of fireflies lit up the city in red, golds, oranges, blues and purples. The stone and living-tree buildings all had round, curving shapes--he didn't see a square corner or a straight line anywhere.

Though it was nighttime, the fairy creatures crowded the city streets, and Jason saw long pastel hair and colorful transparent wings everywhere he looked. The fairies were selling flowers, jewels, rugs, shoes, pottery...all of it strangely small, designed for these people who stood no more than three to four feet high. Cheerful music played everywhere, strings and flutes and bells.

While most of the city dwellers appeared to be fairies, Jason also glimpsed other kinds of creatures mixed in here and there--little people with animal horns, or tusks, or long, pointy ears. He felt dizzy at all the strangeness, and he stooped over as far as he could so he didn't stick up above the crowd. He kept close behind Grizlemor.

"This way! Hide!" Grizlemor snapped, grabbing Jason's arm. They ducked behind a cart full of small, polished hand tools made of stone and flint.

"Why are we hiding?" Jason asked. Grizlemor covered his mouth with a calloused hand that smelled like sour spinach, and then the goblin pointed.

A group of three male fairies stalked down the street, and the crowd parted to make room for them. Their faces were youthful, like all the fairies, but their eyes looked hard, dark, and old. They wore segmented black armor, with their wings jutting out the back. Long swords hung in black sheaths at their hips. They ate fruit and flowers from the merchants they passed, but they didn't pay for it. The merchants just looked down at their feet and let them take whatever they wanted.

"The Queensguard," Grizlemor whispered. "They'll kill us both if they see you."

"Ho there!" The tool-seller bellowed at Grizlemor. He was short and stocky, with a beard that nearly reached his belt. "What might I sell you today? We have the finest flints from the Valley of Gog, lovely stone hammers from the Caves of Dormundy--"

"Quiet, dwarf!" Grizlemor snapped. The three armored fairies approached them along the street.

"You'll not quiet me, goblin!" the dwarf replied. "Why, I'll speak all day of the fineness of these hand-crafted tools, good for all manner of carpentry, masonry, sculptory, or makery! Only the best stones, only the best--"

"Fine, fine, I'll buy one!" Grizlemor handed the dwarf a golden ring from one of his pockets.

"Ah, the gentleman goblin would like to trade at last!" the dwarf said. He sniffed the ring, licked it, then bit it with his wide teeth. "And what is your pleasure today? I have chisels of the greatest quality--"

"I don't care, just be quiet!" Grizlemor whispered.

"Perhaps your friend would like...." The dwarf's brow furrowed as he stared at Jason. "What manner of Folk are you?"

"He's an ogre," Grizlemor said.

"An ogre! He's hardly ugly enough for that!"

"Among his people, he is considered the ugliest ogre of all," Grizlemor said.

The dwarf turned to face the three Queensguard fairies approaching his cart. "And how might I serve you, great fairies of the Guard?"

Grizlemor tightened his grasp on Jason's mouth. If the armored fairies leaned too far over the cart, they would see Jason and Grizlemor hiding there.

"Dwarves require a special license to sell inside the city walls," one of the Queensguard fairies said. "Do you have your paperwork in order?"

"Oh, yes, sir..." The dwarf reached under the cart and patted his hand across an empty shelf. "I'm certain I have the scroll here somewhere..."

"There is a fine if you don't have your scroll," the Queensguard fairy said.

"Of course, of course," the dwarf said. He held out the gold ring that Grizlemor had given him. "Will this suffice for today?"

The fairy took the ring and inspected it. Then he closed it in his fist, and the three black-armored fairies continued along the street.

The dwarf frowned at Grizlemor. "I suppose you'll want to complete your purchase now."

"Forget about it," Grizlemor said. He stood and pulled Jason to his feet. "Come along, young...ogre. We have business ahead." Grizlemor led him along the street.

"Thank you, good sir!" the dwarf yelled after him. "This was my best sale of the day! I would appreciate your repeat business, gentle goblin!"

"Why won't he be quiet?" Grizlemor muttered under his breath.

The goblin took them to a quieter area of the city, where mossy stone walls lined the street. Little round wooden doors were built into the wall, only a few inches apart from each other.

Ahead of them, Jason could hear enchanting music, like nothing he'd ever heard before. It soothed him and energized him at the same time. He wanted to dance his way down the street.

"Here we are." Grizlemor approached one of the round wooden doors. "My very humble home. I shall check my stash-hole...where are you going?"

Jason had passed right by, barely hearing the goblin. The music drew him forward, as if it had taken control of his feet.

Grizlemor hurried to catch up. "We've just passed my house."

"What is that music?" Jason asked. He followed the curved street around until he saw the source of it.

Ahead of him, there was a small park full of wildflowers at the intersection of two curving streets. People danced at the middle of the park--and they didn't look like fairies, but normal people, between the ages of ten and twenty, boys and girls, all different races, all dressed in very different clothes. They danced within a ring of large, spotted mushrooms.

Four musicians sat outside the ring of mushrooms on a woven-grass blanket. A hairy orange creature, bigger than a normal man, pounded a hand drum. Tusks jutting up from his lower jaw kept his face in a permanent snarl. A pink-haired female fairy played a small silver harp inscribed with floral-shaped runes. A young man with goat horns and hooves blew into an instrument made of a row of hollow reeds, arranged from shortest to longest and lashed together.

The leader of the band seemed to be the fairy with dark, violet-streaked hair and a matching violet heart tattoo on her arm. She played a six-stringed instrument with a neck that bent sharply back toward her. Jason recognized this as a lute, a kind of medieval guitar. She sang as she played, in a language Jason didn't recognize, and her voice was beautiful. She walked among the other musicians, nodding in approval as they played.

"We've missed our stop, young sir," Grizlemor said.

"What's happening here?" Jason said. "That music..."

"Makes you want to join in the dance, doesn't it?" Grizlemor smiled with his blunt yellow teeth.

"Those people dancing aren't fairies, are they?"

"They are human children. Like you."

"I thought you said humans weren't allowed here."

"They've only come to dance. They stumble in, here and there, all over the world. Through fairy rings--" Grizlemor pointed to the ring of mushrooms "--and other little doors to Faerie. They dance until exhausted, then return home in the morning."

"Why?"

"Because they cannot help it. The music draws out their energy, and their energy recharges our magical atmosphere."

"Are the instruments magic?" Jason asked.

"All things in the realm run on magic," Grizlemor said. "Now, if we could go back and conclude our business, young sir..."

Jason continued to watch, hypnotized by the fairy music. His body swayed, and his feet moved, wanting to dance.

"I want to stay and listen," Jason said.

"You should come with me."

"Just a minute longer," Jason said.

The goblin sighed again. "Stay right here if you must. But do nothing to call attention to yourself. I will return with your necklace, and then _you_ must return home."

"Sure, sure..." Jason said, barely able to pay attention to the goblin. The music was amazing, opening his heart, making him feel every emotion at once. He hardly noticed when the goblin shuffled away.

Then the dancers began to fall, exhausted. When they hit the ground, they disappeared. The kids faded from view until the circle of mushrooms was empty, and the musicians stopped playing.

Jason blinked several times as he remembered himself. For a minute, he'd been unable to think of anything but the music. He'd never heard anything like it, music that made him feel excited and blissful while it played, and then sad and lonely when it stopped. The instruments really must have been magic.

The lute-playing fairy lifted the strap from her shoulders and laid the lute down on the grass blanket. She stretched and said something to the band. The four of them walked across the street and into an open-air cafe, where they bought drinks served in large, cup-shaped yellow lilies. The two fairies and the little goat-man sat at a stained-glass table, in chairs made of delicate little strands of wood. The huge, hairy drum player had to squat beside them because his giant orange butt would have obviously crushed the fairy chairs.

Jason glanced behind him. Grizlemor was nowhere in sight, and he wouldn't be surprised if the goblin wasn't planning to return. There were countless little round doors packed in tight rows along the wall--Jason would never be able to figure out the one to Grizlemor's house.

On the other hand...he wondered what his band could accomplish if they had those magic fairy instruments to play. He imagined crowds of people entranced by the music, unable to stop dancing until they fell over from exhaustion. With the magic instruments, they'd be able to get gigs all over Minneapolis, maybe even play somewhere in Chicago. And that would make Erin extremely happy, probably more than any stupid necklace.

Jason strolled up the street to the little park, keeping his head low. He checked across the street, down the alley. Nobody in the band was looking this way. They looked pretty exhausted from their set.

Jason picked up the lute. It was carved from heavy, dark wood with runes carved all over the surface. The tuning pegs glittered like gold. Violet amethysts were embedded here and there in the soundboard, and instead of an open sound hole, it had three floral shapes carved under the strings. The lute felt warm and inviting in his hands, heating his fingers like sunlight.

He looked over at the cafe again. So far, nobody had noticed him. Even with all the fireflies, there was still some darkness in the city night.

Jason could barely fit the little lute's leather strap over his shoulder and neck. The instrument pressed tight against his back.

He picked up the drum, which was covered with more of the strange fairy runes, and also had a strap for carrying and wearing. The interior was hollow, so he placed the reed pipes and the little silver harp inside it. Then he slung the drum's strap over the opposite shoulder from the lute.

Jason glanced sideways toward the fairy cafe as he started back down the street. The fairies were chatting rapidly now, as if energized by their drinks.

He walked away feeling extremely nervous, but he resisted the urge to run until he was out of sight of the cafe. Then he took off down the street, going back the way he'd come, through the crowded market.

The theft wasn't such a bad thing, Jason reasoned, because obviously the fairies were using the instruments to take advantage of people. Luring kids down here, draining them of their energy, sending them back exhausted...that didn't seem like a very nice thing to do. What had the goblin said? The fairies stole young people's energy to help power their magic.

He followed the curving roads out to the stone arch, then really put on speed when he hit the cobblestone road through the dark forest. He ran past tree after tree with the little doors built into them, until he saw an arched green door in an old elm. It looked like the door through which he'd entered the world of Faerie.

Jason ducked and entered the door, and closed it tight behind him. He ran up the spiraling root-and-dirt staircase. The stairwell grew narrower, darker and more cramped as he climbed back to his own world.

Chapter Six

By the time he reached the small door at the top of the stairs, Jason was covered in a fresh layer of dirt. He pushed open the arched green door and faced an unexpected rush of bright sunlight. How could it be daytime? He'd only been gone a couple of hours, at most. It shouldn't be much later than midnight.

He poked his head out the door. It was definitely daytime, though still shadowy in Mrs. Dullahan's back yard. It wasn't early morning light, either, but the full brightness of midday or afternoon.

His parents were going to kill him.

Jason looked at the house. Mrs. Dullahan wasn't outside, thankfully, and the narrow windows were shuttered or hung with dark curtains. Maybe she wouldn't see him.

The tiny doorway didn't look big enough for Jason to fit through. He took the instruments off his shoulders, and he put the lute outside first, laying it carefully in the high weeds. Then he pushed the drum out, scraping it on both sides as he forced it out the door. He lay flat on the ground and just barely managed to squirm his way through the little doorway.

Once he was out, the door slowly swung closed, while both the doorway and the door itself shrunk back to their original, even smaller size, as if the doorway had stretched to let him out.

Jason got to his feet and brushed off leaves and dirt. He wondered how many hours had passed. He'd left Katie alone, scared of the "monster" she'd seen. How long had she been waiting for him?

He climbed one of the old trees and out on a limb over the wall, then switched to another tree and climbed down. The instruments were strangely heavy for their small size, and they'd already made his back and shoulders sore.

He trudged through the woods, feeling drained, eager to reach his own bed and collapse. He knew he wouldn't get it so easy, though, if he'd left Katie alone all night. He'd have to get yelled at for a long time before he could sleep.

Jason reached his back yard, and he stopped in the garage to hide the instruments. His dad had an old Corvette convertible under a tarp, which had been there about as long as Jason could remember. He tucked the instruments in the narrow space between the draped car and the garage wall.

Then he approached the door into the house, took a deep breath, and walked inside.

His father was in the living room watching a fishing show, and he immediately stood up when Jason walked in.

"He's back," Jason's father announced. Jason's mother came down the short flight of steps from the kitchen. Katie trailed behind her, looking scared.

Jason's parents stood together and glared at him.

"Um...hi," Jason said.

"Hi?" his mother said. "Hi? After what you put us through, all you can say is 'hi'?"

"I'm sorry," Jason said.

"Where have you been, Jason?" his father asked.

"And who were you with?" his mother asked. "And why are you so filthy?"

"It's really hard to explain," Jason said.

"I told you," Katie spoke up. "He chased after the monster. The burglar monster. Cause it stoled your earrings."

"Oh, yeah, I got your earrings back, Mom!" Jason took the ruby pair of earrings from his pocket.

"They're covered in dirt!" His mom took them from his soil-encrusted hand. "Why did you take these?"

"I didn't," Jason said. "It was--"

"The monster!" Katie interrupted. "The monster stole them and Jason brought them back. Like he said he was."

"Katie, go to your room," his mom said.

"Why am I in trouble? What did I do?"

"You're not in trouble. Just go."

"But, the monster--" Katie began.

"Listen to your mother, Katie," his dad said. "We need to have a talk with Jason."

Katie frowned and stomped up the stairs to the kitchen.

"You still haven't told us where you were," his dad said.

"I was in the woods. A guy stole Mom's earrings, and I chased after him, and..."

"And what?" his mom asked.

"Then I got them back."

"From where?" his dad asked. "Who was this person?"

"It's really hard to explain. Can I just go to bed? I'll try to explain later."

"You will not 'just go to bed,'" his mother said. "We were worried sick. You left your cell phone here, too, so we couldn't call you. Were you with those wild kids from that band again?"

"They aren't that wild," Jason said.

"Mildred Zweig?" she asked. "And the Schneidowski kid? That Kavanagh girl, with all the weird colored hair? What's that hair about, if she's not wild?"

"How wild can you get in Chippewa Falls, anyway?" Jason asked. "Wearing plaid socks that don't match? Ordering the Tutti Frutti ice cream at The Creamery, just because nobody else does?"

"Don't be a smartmouth," his mom said. "What were you thinking, leaving your little sister alone like that? Don't you know she was terrified when we got home?"

"No, I wasn't!" Katie shouted down the stairs. "Cause Jason got rid of the monster!"

"Katie, go to your room!" his father shouted. "Jason, you're grounded. Obviously."

"For how long?" Jason asked.

"We'll talk in a month."

"But I have band practice. And our audition is Thursday--"

"You are not going to Minneapolis with those kids!" Jason's mother said. "Not after disappearing all night like that!"

Jason still couldn't understand how time had flown by so quickly.

"I don't want to hear anymore about this band nonsense," his dad said. "As soon as your final exams are over, you're getting a summer job. You need something to keep you busy."

"But I have to at least go to the audition with everybody," Jason said.

"Jason, no," his dad said. "Not one more word about it."

"But they're counting on me--"

"You should have thought of that before you decided to leave your sister alone and spend the night out with your friends," his mom said.

Jason realized it was pointless to argue anymore. If he told his parents he'd chased a goblin to the fairy world, he'd probably just get grounded even longer. And sent to a psychiatrist.

"Now, go and wash up," his mom said. "You're dripping dirt all over my carpet. And stay in your room while we rest. We were up all night worried about you."

Chapter Seven

Though he was very tired, Jason couldn't get to sleep Sunday night. He kept looking at his window, waiting for something to crawl through into his room--Grizlemor the goblin maybe, or a violet-haired fairy with a heart tattoo, or the hairy ogre-creature that played the drum. He jumped every time the wind made the trees creak outside. He was still awake when his alarm went off for school.

Monday morning, Jason left the house through the garage. Before he left, he peeked behind the old Corvette and lifted the drop cloth he'd used to cover the stolen instruments.

What he found surprised him. All four of the instruments had shrunk in size until they looked like toys. The lute was smaller than a violin, the harp would have fit in the palm of his hand, and the set of reed pipes was no bigger than a whistle. The drum was the size of a cupcake.

Jason could just imagine how Erin, Mitch and Dred would react if he brought these to school and suggested they use them to make music. They would laugh at him, or think he was crazy, or both. What had seemed like a brilliant idea in the land of Faerie on Saturday night looked ridiculous in the gray light of a Monday morning.

He covered up the instruments again, got on his bike, and rode to school.

While he was changing out books at his locker before homeroom, somebody grabbed his arm and he jumped, nearly losing his balance.

"Hi, Jason," Erin said. "Scared you, didn't I?"

Jason was surprised to see her--Erin didn't normally hang out with him at school. She had her own friends. The sight of her tied up his tongue. He was only just barely able to say her name aloud: "Erin."

"Why are you so jumpy?"

"I don't know. I didn't get a lot of sleep. Weird weekend."

She leaned against the locker next to his. "Aren't you excited about this audition? I was thinking about it all weekend, and I really think this could be the one. The place isn't too big, kind of a college crowd..."

Jason was nodding along. He couldn't really look at her and talk like an intelligent human being at the same time, so he focused on changing out his books. "Yeah," he said.

"Don't you have a good feeling about it? I feel something good's about to happen."

"I hope you're right." Jason didn't want to tell her that his parents had grounded him, and he wasn't allowed to be in the band anymore. He knew he should be honest, but he was afraid she'd be disappointed in him. Or angry. Or decide not to talk to him again.

"You're going to be at practice?" she asked.

"I don't know--my parents are kind of mad at me, they don't want me going anywhere--"

"But you can come out for the audition Thursday, right?" She touched his arm and looked into his eyes. "Right? Are you feeling okay, Jason?"

"Just tired. Couldn't sleep," Jason said.

"Did you have bad dreams?"

"I did."

"I hate that. I get nightmares all the time." She squeezed his arm, and Jason felt his heart flutter. "I'm really glad you joined the band, Jason. I think it's working out great."

"Me, too," Jason said. His smile felt a little too wobbly. He could feel himself starting to blush, too, which only made him more embarrassed.

"Oh, there's Kennedy and Parker. I have to go." Erin backed away toward her friends. "So, I'll see you Thursday. If you can't come to practice sooner."

"Right," Jason said.

He watched her go, feeling his insides tremble. Why did he have to be such a dork around her?

Later, at lunch, Jason sat outside in his usual corner of the courtyard. The school lunch was some kind of soy-burger sandwich with brown mystery vegetables. He could see Erin across the way on one of the concrete benches outside the cafeteria doors, with Kennedy and Parker and assorted other friends. It seemed like a large group to Jason. How did you keep up a conversation with that many people?

"What's happening, brother?" Mitch asked, sitting down next to him. At school, Mitch wore his goofy plaid driving cap, with his long hair tucked behind his ears, and his John Lennon glasses. He looked in the direction where Jason had been gazing.

"Just thinking."

"She's a good singer, isn't she?" Mitch asked. "Songwriter, harmonica. We're lucky to have her."

"Yeah." Jason took a bite of his soy burger and was quiet for a minute.

"I know what you're worried about," Mitch said.

"You do?"

"It's a big audition, man. Out in the Cities and everything."

"Oh, yeah. About that. My parents say I'm grounded. I'm not allowed to go anywhere for a while."

Mitch's mouth dropped open. "Except for the audition, right? And if we get the gig..."

"They won't let me go. And they say I can't be part of the band anymore."

"Are you serious? We can't blow this audition, man. Dred was after that club owner for almost a month just to get us a shot. What's she going to say?"

"I know, but I can't."

"We can't get a new guitarist by Thursday!" Mitch slapped his forehead and closed his eyes. "They'd have to learn Erin's songs...or we'd just have to figure out some covers...You can't do this to us, man!"

"I'm sorry," Jason said. "I really want to play."

Mitch looked him over. "You know, let me tell you a secret, as a graduating senior to a just-finishing-up junior. Your parents can't _really_ make you do anything. It's like an illusion they have over you."

"They'd be really mad if I went."

"And they'd get over it. You're not doing anything wrong, you know. We're not going to rob a bank here. Just play a little music."

"Which is exactly what they told me to quit doing," Jason said. "I'm supposed to get a job..."

"That's perfect!" Mitch said. "Get a job, make a little money...plus, you can pretend you're going to work whenever you want to get out for a while. Having a job makes you groundproof."

"Should I pretend I'm going back to work on Thursday?" Jason asked. "I can tell my dad I got my old job at the car wash again. Then I could get away for that audition."

"Now you're thinking, man!" Mitch said. "He wants you to go to work, so that's what you tell him. And it's not _totally_ a lie. I mean, we're trying to get a job. A Friday night gig at The Patch, in the warehouse district? That's big. We could make a hundred bucks each."

"I don't know. I really don't like lying."

Mitch glanced at Erin across the courtyard. "Look, man, what would Mick Jagger do?"

"Mick Jagger?"

"Do you think he'd let his parents keep him away from a gig?"

"He's like seventy years old," Jason said.

"You're missing the point. Rock stars don't ditch out on gigs because they're grounded. You know what I mean?"

"Not even Justin Bieber?"

"Shut up about Justin Bieber. This is about what you need to do, Jason."

Jason looked over at Erin.

"You don't want to disappoint her, do you?" Mitch asked.

"What do you mean?" Jason asked.

"You know what I mean."

Jason felt embarrassed. "Okay. But I can't make rehearsal all week. Just the audition."

"That's cool, man. Just keep practicing the songs at home."

"I'll practice." The bell rang and Jason stood up, feeling very nervous. He could get in a lot more trouble. He looked at Erin, and this time she saw him. She waved and smiled at Jason and Mitch.

"Get ready to play your best on Thursday," Mitch said. He punched Jason's shoulder. "Now you're acting like a rock star, Jayce!"

Jason rolled his eyes.

Chapter Eight

When school let out Thursday, Jason caught a ride with Dred from school, which meant riding around while she dropped off a couple of other girls that she always took home. He stashed his bike in the cargo area behind the back seats. When they reached Mitch's house, Jason parked the bike in Mitch's garage to make room for Dred's drum kit and Mitch's collection of keyboards and synthesizers.

Jason helped Mitch and Dred load the back of the van. He was doubly worried today. He'd told his dad it was his first day back at the car wash, and he'd been so busy wondering if he'd get caught by his parents that he'd almost forgotten to be nervous about the audition itself. Packing up the van, he started to think about playing in front of actual big-city club owners, and he felt a little cold and shaky.

Erin's boyfriend Zach dropped her off, and Jason looked away fast when she kissed him good-bye. Jason didn't need to feel jealous and sad, on top of everything else.

"Are we ready?" Erin asked as she joined them in the garage.

"All packed up." Dred tossed her keys in the air and caught them. "Let's go blow some minds."

As they drove out of Chippewa along Highway 29 to Minneapolis, Erin looked more cheerful than Jason had ever seen her.

"So where are you guys going to live when we're big stars?" Erin asked. "Dred?"

"I think Oregon," Dred said. "Seems like a cool place. You can live near those giant redwoods where they put the Ewok village."

"Mitch?" Erin asked.

" _Mick_. And I'm thinking Malibu. Swimming pools, movie stars..."

"Yeah," Dred snorted. "You only want to live there so you'll be close to Claudia Lafayette."

"I happen to think she's a great vocalist who does some amazing, experimental things with her melodies."

"I guess ten million middle school girls can't be wrong," Dred said.

"All kinds of people listen to Claudia Lafayette!" Mitch said.

"All kinds of female people between the ages of ten and fourteen," Dred said.

"What about you, Jason?" Erin asked.

"I don't really listen to Claudia Lafayette, or Britney Spears, or anybody like that. I like classic rock, old blues..." Jason said.

"I mean, where would you live if you were a rock star?"

"Oh!" Jason thought about it. "I think an island. Out in the Caribbean, maybe."

"That's pretty cool," Erin said. "But I think I'd want to live in New York, or London, someplace where everything's happening, and you can do anything you want."

"I could try that for a while," Jason said.

Erin smiled and blew a quick, bright tune on her harmonica. "Who wants to warm up?"

"My stuff's all packed up," Mitch said.

"I think I can play." Jason took the guitar from its case. He wished he'd brought the fairy instruments now, so they could at least check them out on the long ride to the Cities. He could have come up with some story about where they came from. Too late now.

Erin played a blues riff, and Jason followed her with his guitar. She improvised a song, continuing the harmonic part between the lines:

_Jason likes the blues,_

_(wah-waah, wah-wah)_

_Mitch hates the news_

_(wah-waah, wah-wah)_

"It's _Mick_ ," Mitch said. "But that's accurate, you know. I think it's pointless to get your news from the television, or even establishment newspapers--"

Erin sang and played:

_(wah-waah, wah-wah_ )

_Dred drives the car_

_(wah-waah, wah-wah)_

_Gonna take us far_

_(wah-waah, wah-wah)_

"Yeah, where would this band be without my van?" Dred asked.

Erin sang:

_Without the van,_

_(wah-waah, wah-wah)_

_There is no band_.

Erin played out a long phrase on her harmonica, while Dred snickered.

Jason and Erin played most of the way, occasionally getting into one of the band's actual songs, but Erin kept improvising new lyrics. She had a radiant smile today.

The Patch was located in the old warehouse district in Minneapolis, near a number of larger, more popular clubs. The club occupied one sliver of the bottom floor of a refurbished brick building, where the ghosts of the words "Great Northern Railway" were visible across the second story.

They arrived with about fifteen minutes to spare. It was still daylight--the club itself wouldn't open for several more hours.

The four of them walked to the front door. Jason wanted to knock, since the place was obviously closed, but Dred pushed open the heavy black door and walked inside like it was her own house.

"Hey, anybody here?" Dred shouted into the darkness.

Mitch looked at Jason and Erin, then shrugged and followed Dred inside. Jason and Erin shared a nervous smile before following.

The interior of the club was small and dark, with an eight-seat bar along one wall, scattered tables and a few booths at the back. The stage was tucked into one corner, and looked barely big enough to hold a two-piece band.

"We're closed," said a young woman who emerged from the door at the back. She was dressed in black leather pants and a high-collared white shirt.

"We're the Assorted Zebras," Dred said. "We're supposed to have an audition today."

"Oh, you're the one who keeps calling?" The woman turned her head and shouted at the open door from which she'd emerged. "Hey, Freddy! Those pushy hick kids are here with their band!"

The man who came out next was hugely obese, wearing a bright flowered shirt and a green pork-pie hat. He stood next to the young woman and folded his arms while he looked over the four of them.

"Who's the one that keeps calling?" Freddy asked.

"That'd be me." Dred raised her hand.

"Well, stop calling. Lissa here is my entertainment director," he said, and the young woman smiled. "She's also my bar manager," he added, and the woman's smile faltered. "Anyway, this is your one chance to convince us that you're good enough to play The Patch. Go set yourselves up, and don't make too much noise doing it." He waved at the tiny stage.

"Thank you!" Mitch said. "We really appreciate this opportunity--"

"Don't talk to me until you're ready to play," Freddy said.

They carried the equipment and quickly set it up, plugging into the club's sound system. Freddy and Lissa sat in a booth at the back of the club, going over a stack of paperwork.

When they were set up, Erin spoke into the microphone: "Are you ready?"

Freddy the club owner waved a pudgy arm without looking at them. He was still in conversation with Lissa, ignoring the band.

"Okay," Erin said. "This first one's called 'Nuclear Morning.'"

Dred counted off the beat, and then Jason and Mitch joined in.

Erin sang:

_I woke up on nuclear morning,_

_Last night they gave the last warning,_

_Nothing left but crying and mourning,_

_All alone on nuclear morning..._

They played three songs straight through, and neither of the two people in the booth looked up at them the entire time.

"Okay," Erin said, "This next one is called 'Remember'--"

"Wait, wait." Freddy pushed himself to his feet and waddled toward the stage. "Look, you seem like nice kids. You've got some talent." He looked right at Erin. "Maybe a lot of talent. But you're too green and raw. You don't have your sound together. I'd say give it another year of practice before you're ready to play live shows."

"A _year_?" Erin asked.

"Nobody gets successful overnight," Freddy said. "You're young. You have plenty of time to practice. Don't take it personally. Now get your junk off my stage."

Mitch frowned. Erin's face scrunched up for a second as if she were going to cry, but she fought it down and made it into a hard glare instead. The band members looked at each other. It was one more failed audition.

Freddy started chatting with Lissa again. After a second, he looked up and said, "Get going! We have a business to run here."

The four of them packed up their gear and carried it out to the van, speaking very little. On the drive home, the mood was quiet and somber.

"We'll get the next one," Mitch said as they drove out of the city.

Nobody replied.

Back in Chippewa, Dred dropped Erin off at home. When the rest of them arrived at Mitch's, it was close to eight o' clock. Jason got his bike and his backpack from the garage.

He said good-bye and pedaled home.

His dad was waiting at the kitchen table, reading his paper. Jason heard his mom and Katie upstairs, doing something in Katie's room. Maybe cleaning up--Katie could turn any room into a wreck in a matter of minutes.

Jason poured himself a glass of milk.

"How was your first day back at work?" his dad asked, without looking up from the paper.

"Oh," Jason said. "Fine. Pretty good. I'm pretty tired now."

"Wash a lot of cars?"

"Yep."

His dad looked up. "You didn't wash mine."

"Oh...did you want me to?"

"I did. That's why I took it over to Manny's Car Wash this afternoon, about five-thirty. Guess who wasn't working there?"

Jason looked down at his shoelaces.

"In fact," his dad continued, "I talked to Manny, and he said you never even asked for your job back. Says he hasn't heard from you in a few months. Now how is that possible?"

Jason sighed. "I'm sorry, Dad."

"Where were you?"

"We had that audition today."

"You were with those kids? In Minneapolis?"

"It didn't go well."

"I don't care how it went. I told you no more band. And now you're going all the way to the Cities and back, with a teenage driver, and not telling anybody where you went?"

"It was a bad day," Jason said. "If that makes you feel better."

"It's not about how I feel, Jason. It's the way you've been acting. Disappearing all night? Lying to your mother and me? This isn't like you, Jason. What's going on with you?"

Jason shrugged. "I just like being in the band."

"You're getting irresponsible," his dad said. "You're going to be a senior next year. You need to start acting like an adult. Set a good example for your sister."

"Okay. I will."

"And why should I believe anything you say?" his dad asked.

"I don't know."

"You're still grounded, and you said you're not going to prom, so I'm running out of ways to punish you. And, at your age, it shouldn't be about punishment. You should be more mature. You should know to be honest, responsible and considerate of others. Especially your little sister, who you left all alone."

Jason didn't know what to say. His dad's disappointment filled the room like a thick, cold cloud.

"I'll do better, Dad," he finally said.

"I hope you do. Until you show me a little responsibility, I'll just think of you as somebody who can't be trusted at all." His dad started reading the paper again.

Jason trudged up the stairs to his room, feeling worse than he had in years. His parents hated him, and there would be no more band practice. No more afternoons and weekends with Erin.

He collapsed on his bed, put on his headphones, played the Lead Belly collection on his iPod, and closed his eyes.

Chapter Nine

Aoide slept in her woven-grass hammock, with the doors of her rear balcony open to catch the cool breeze through the trees. She was completely relaxed, her translucent purple wings stretched out to either side of her. When the fist pounded on her front door, she startled awake.

She fluttered her wings and hopped out of the hammock, landing gently on her bare feet. The fist pounded on the door again.

"I'm coming!" she yelled. She yanked on a vine hanging from her ceiling, and the hammock folded up and pulled away into a knothole overhead.

Aoide opened the small porthole in her circular front door and looked out through the smoked-glass window. She could see out, but no one could see inside.

Her apartment was on the south trunk of a huge old sugar maple tree, the third door up. Like most fairy homes, she had a landing porch outside her front door. From there, a woven spider-silk bridge connected to the trunk's main walkpath. The walkpath itself alternated between more of the spider-silk rope bridges, little stairwells molded inside the trunk itself, and limbs trained to grow at just the right distance to serve as stairs.

Now, Aoide's view of the hustling, bustling walkpath was blocked by cold-eyed male fairies in black armor, with the Queen's Seal on their breastplates.

Aoide held her breath. This could be good news. She'd reported their instruments stolen, and maybe the Queensguard had found them. It didn't feel like good news, though. They weren't carrying any musical instruments, either, just the iron swords in the ornate scabbards at their hips.

Aoide lifted the smoked-glass window.

"Happy morning!" Aoide said. "I must have eaten a luck-clover, to have three such lovely and handsome boys on my landing porch today."

"You are Aoide the Lutist?" asked the Queensguard fairy who stood closest to her door, in front of the other two. He had long hair the color of polished gold and glittering sapphire eyes.

"I am she," Aoide said. "I certainly hope this is about the stolen instruments. Did you find anything?"

"Her Majesty the Queen sends you this." He held up a black rose in full bloom.

Aoide's fingers covered her lips, but she tried not to gasp or look too frightened in front of them. A black rose could mean good fortune or ill.

He held the rose close to her face, as if expecting her to accept it on the spot.

"Oh, I cannot possibly go to court looking like this!" Aoide said. "I'm still in my sleeping-dress. And my hair!" She put a hand to the tangled violet-streak mess of her hair and backed away. "I'll be right back! Promise!"

Aoide stepped back into her sleeping room and drew the brightly painted dressing-screen across the doorway. She cranked her music box to play a song while she got ready, and then opened her rosewood clothes trunk and looked for a suitable dress. Then she noticed her sleepy, unkempt self in the round mirror on the wall. There wasn't time to fly over to the bath garden, but she needed to wash up.

She stepped out onto her back balcony to collect fresh water from her baby blue dew-pitcher flowers, and then gasped when she realized someone had landed there. One of the Queensguard fairies stood on her balcony railing with his arms crossed, quietly watching her. He'd flown over to the back of her apartment, as if they expected her to flee.

"Happy morning, good sir!" Aoide said. She tilted one of the water-filled, pitcher-shaped flowers forward to rinse her face, then brushed the water back through her hair. "Mind looking away while I dress?"

"My order is to watch this door," he said.

"This door, and not me, then?"

"Yes."

"Good!" Aoide slammed the pink shutters and slid the peg-lock into place.

She changed into her best dress, made of specially pressed and preserved violet petals. She stained her lips with a little elderberry juice, then raked her seashell comb through her hair until it looked sort of presentable. Then she pulled on her matching violet-petal slippers, since the Queen, joyless stickler that she was, insisted people wear shoes in her presence.

She stepped out into the front porch and smiled at the Queensguard fairy who'd first spoken to her. "I suppose I'm ready as I will be," she told him.

He held out the black rose toward her. Aoide steeled herself, then touched her finger to the bloom.

There was a smell like burning pitch, and then she and the Queensguard fairy stood in a small, hexagon-shaped side chamber of the Queen's court. The floor tiles were hexagonal, too. The tiles just below Aoide's feet depicted a large black rose.

Porting in through one of the black rose chambers was the only way into the palace. Most visitors ported in from the guardhouse at the outer wall, located where the front gate had been before the Queen ordered it sealed. Between the outer wall and the inner complex of palace buildings lay a vast labyrinth of deadly traps and foul monsters, which no one intruder could hope to survive.

"This way." The Queensguard fairy stepped out through an angular, arched doorway.

Aoide tried not to shiver as she followed him. She was terrified, but she didn't want anyone to see it.

They emerged into a great golden space that looked like an enormous cavern built of six-sided golden tiles, from floor to glittering roof. A thick swarm of fireflies radiated gold and purple overhead, where they lived on the pollen of flowering vines growing down from the ceiling.

Fairies came and went everywhere, dressed in their finest. Aoide and the Queensguard fairy walked up a long, wide carpet made of sewn-together rose petals, past groups of courtiers, ambassadors, merchants, costumed musicians and dancers, and more Queensguard men in their black armor. Tapestries depicted the Queen's past war victories, and the vast room was decorated with statuary and artwork from all over the realm.

Far ahead of them, at the end of the carpet, the queen's golden throne overlooked the room, atop staircases and terraces. From here, Aoide could see the glitter of her crown, and the theatrically huge skirts of her black and gold dress draped down over the terraced stairways beneath her.

Aoide was being led directly toward the Queen.

As they drew closer, Aoide could see the Queen better, her mountainous braids of midnight-black hair--which had to be a wig--sprawling over her dress like great pythons. The Queen surveyed her court with stern golden eyes and a beautiful, youthful face. Her eyes and lips were painted with black makeup, and a golden rune was painted on her cheek.

Aoide curtsied low before the Queen, nearly sitting on the floor before she rose up again.

"What have you brought me, Icarus?" the Queen's voice echoed down the terraces from her throne.

"This is the musician called Aoide the Lutist," the Queensguard fairy replied.

The Queen's head turned toward a silver-haired, bearded elf in a dark blue cowl, who occupied a terrace below her. He wore a golden chain, on which hung a pendant with a scarab trapped in amber.

"Conjurer," she said, "Create the Shush Bubble."

The old elf used a staff to heave himself to his feet. The staff was a crooked length of ironwood, topped with a gleaming quartz crystal. He muttered in Old Elvish, a language Aoide didn't know. The quartz ball sparkled, and suddenly all the voices, chatter and music in the room vanished.

Aoide turned around, half-expecting to find that everyone had disappeared. The courtiers were all still there, continuing their chatting and gossip, but it was as if an invisible curtain blocked all sound.

"Aoide the Lutist," the Queen said.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" Aoide replied.

"You reported to the Queensguard that four objects of high magic, four musical instruments, had been stolen from you. Yes?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." Aoide kept her gaze low, on the Queen's yards and yards of skirts. Subjects weren't supposed to look the Queen in the eye.

"Our seer tells us these four instruments are no longer within our realm," the Queen said.

Aoide didn't know what to say. "How is that possible? I thought they must have been stolen by goblins, or perhaps other musicians..."

"Their magic has departed from Faerie," the Queen said.

Now Aoide grew nervous. They hadn't brought her here to return the instruments, but to punish her.

"As you surely know," the Queen continued, "Allowing magic to pass out of Faerie--either on purpose, or by negligence--violates the Supreme Law. This can be punished by death."

Aoide tried to look calm, but she was shaking with panic. What would they do to her? She would have to beg for mercy.

"My Queen," Aoide said, falling to her hands and knees. "I do not know how this could have happened. I have not gone near the doors to the man-world."

"Yet your instruments must have left through such doors," the Queen said.

"Your Majesty, I am sorry. I do not understand--"

"Magic, leaking out into the man-world," the Queen said, glaring down at Aoide. "After we have kept ourselves hidden so well, for so long. They have chased us from that world with their iron. If they bring their iron here, to our world, then where shall we hide?"

Aoide trembled, staring at the hexagon floor tile below her. "I do not know, Your Majesty."

"You and your musical troupe are in violation of the Supreme Law," the Queen said. "Rhodia the Harpist. The faun called Neus, player of songpipes. The ogre Skezg, bearing in mind that ogres have no legal rights under the Queen's Law anyway. The four of you must recover the stolen instruments from the man-world."

Aoide looked up, surprised. At least she wasn't being imprisoned, or put to death. "Yes, Your Majesty. We will do all we can!"

"You will succeed," the Queen said, "Or you will suffer the full penalty. All four of you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"This will be done entirely at your expense, naturally," the Queen said. "I have assigned Icarus to watch over you and make sure you resolve this matter quickly."

Aoide looked at the sapphire-eyed fairy in black armor, and he gave her a very small smile.

"I will do as Your Majesty desires," Aoide said. She tried not to let her relief show.

"Then we are understood," the Queen said. "Go and do as I say."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The old elf rapped the base of his staff on the floor, and sound flooded in again from all over the room.

Icarus took Aoide's arm to escort her away. She walked along with him, but slowly slipped her elbow from his grasp. He would lead her to one of the black-rose chambers, and there they would teleport across the deadly labyrinth surrounding the palace, to the guardhouse where the front gate had been before the Queen walled it in.

Aoide managed to look calm on the outside, but she was terrified. She had no idea what had happened, so she had no idea where to begin. But she would recover what had been stolen from her. Her life, and her friends' lives, depended on it.

Chapter Ten

Jason sat on the bleachers at school, watching the seniors assemble on the football field in their rented caps and gowns. He could see Mitch making practice tosses in the air with his square blue cap. Dred sat near him, looking bored.

"Hi, Jason," Erin's voice said. She was on the row of bleachers behind him, but she stepped down beside him to talk.

"Hi." Jason smiled at her.

"Are you here by yourself?" Erin asked, looking at the empty space beside him.

"Yep."

"Oh." Erin sat down beside him. "So...I didn't see you at prom."

"I didn't go."

"Yeah, it was pretty lame," Erin said. "But my girlfriends, you know, Kennedy and Parker, they were nuts about it. So I had to do the whole dress thing, the whole make-up and hair thing. Zach was nice, got us the limo and everything."

"Did you have a good time?"

"It wasn't what I expected it to be." Erin shrugged. "But that's life, right?"

Jason nodded. If he had gone to prom with Erin, he thought, he would make sure she had the best night of her life.

Jason couldn't say that, though, so he moved to a subject that felt safer.

"Sorry I haven't been at band practice," he said. "My parents are still mad at me for sneaking off for that audition."

"It's okay," Erin said. "The band's breaking up, anyway."

"Really?" Jason hadn't heard anything about that.

"We kind of have to, don't we?" Erin asked. "Dred's been saying she'll move to the Cities after graduation. And Mitch is going off to Stout for college, in a few months. So that's pretty much it."

"But we can still play together," Jason said.

"I don't think that's very realistic, with everybody moving away."

"I mean you and me. We could still hang out and play. Maybe get another band going. We're both still stuck at this school another year, right?"

"True. That could be fun."

Jason wanted to keep talking to her--about anything, really--but he wasn't sure what to say. She still tied his tongue in knots. He noticed he was crumpling and uncrumpling the paper graduation program in his hand, and he made himself stop.

"There's something I haven't told anybody," Jason said. "I thought it could make a big difference for the band...but then I thought it was kind of a stupid idea."

"What is it?" Erin asked.

"That's pretty hard to explain. If you can come by my house, I'll show you."

"Tell me what it is."

"Yeah, it's not going to make any sense if I just tell you. Want to come by Monday? My parents will be gone, so it'll just be me and Katie."

"And then you can show me this amazing thing that you can't possibly give me a clue about?"

"Yep."

Erin smiled and looked at him for a long moment. "Okay, Jason Becker. I'll come to your house on Monday."

Jason wondered if she thought he was just inviting her over to try and make out with her. He didn't want to give her the wrong idea...but then again, she'd already agreed. He felt scared and elated at the same time.

Then the principal began to speak, and Erin turned to watch. Jason looked at the side of her face for a few seconds more, and then he started to watch the graduation ceremony.

Chapter Eleven

By Monday morning, he was a nervous wreck. As soon as his parents left, he was in his room, trying on different shirts, checking his hair.

"Whatcha doing?" Katie wandered in and plopped on his bed. She was holding an orange plush Tyrannosaurus Rex.

"Nothing, Katie."

"Want to play dinosaurs?"

"I'm busy."

"You said you weren't doing anything!"

"I'm having a friend come over for a while."

"Mom and Dad say you're not allowed," Katie said. "I'm s'posed to call them if you go anywhere. Or if somebody comes over."

"They've got you spying for them, huh?"

"Yep."

"Please don't tell, Katie."

"Who's coming over?"

"My friend, Erin."

"Boy Aaron or girl Erin?"

"Girl Erin."

"Oooh...Is she your girlfriend?"

"No, Katie. And she's probably not even coming."

"You said she was! Make up your mind."

"I mean, she probably forgot, or changed her mind," Jason said. It was hard for him to believe that Erin Kavanagh was actually coming to hang out with him. He'd never spent any time with her besides band practice and failed auditions.

"Why would she forget?" Katie asked.

"Because she doesn't care that much about me. She has a boyfriend."

"Is he coming, too?"

"He better not be!" Jason was suddenly worried at the idea that Erin would bring Zach and he'd be stuck watching the two of them together the whole time.

Jason took out his cologne, which he'd never taken out of the box since his aunt sent it to him for Christmas. It smelled a little bit like leather and wood, nothing too froofy. He slapped it all over his face with both hands, since he'd once seen a character in a movie apply it that way.

"Why you wearing perfume?" Katie asked.

"It's called 'cologne' when a boy wears it."

"Why you wearing boy perfume?"

"I'm just trying it out."

"Are you in love with Erin?"

"Katie, just give me a break!" Jason shouted. "Stop being a little pest!"

Katie's face crumpled and turned red, and she looked like she was about to cry.

"Play stupid dinosaurs by yourself!" she shouted back. She threw the stuffed T. Rex on his floor and stomped out of the room.

"Katie, sorry, I didn't mean to yell," Jason said, remembering that he needed Katie to keep quiet and not tell their parents about Erin visiting. He followed Katie to her room. After much begging and apologizing, he agreed to make up for yelling by playing Mario Kart on the Wii with her.

The video game actually calmed him down by giving him something to concentrate on, besides the question of whether Erin was actually coming, and the question of whether he'd be able to talk like a somewhat intelligent human being when she was around.

Jason was completely absorbed in being Yoshi, driving his go-kart on the beach, when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" Katie dropped her steering-wheel controller, letting Toad crash into a rocky cliff. She ran out of the living room.

"Wait, Katie!" Jason chased after her. She was already opening the front door.

Erin stood outside the storm door. She waved when she saw Jason, and his heart skipped a beat or three.

Katie pushed open the storm door.

"Are you Erin?" Katie asked.

"I am. Who are you?" Erin smiled.

"That's Katie, my sister." Jason reached over Katie's head and held the door open while Erin stepped inside. Erin hugged an arm around his waist.

"Are you in love with my brother?" Katie asked.

"Katie, don't you want to go play video games? Or watch TV?" Jason asked.

"No, I want to see what you guys are doing," Katie said.

"Katie, we need to talk alone for a minute," Jason said.

"Then I'll tell Mom you had a _girl_ come over!"

Jason sighed. Katie really had him trapped on that one.

"Okay, Katie," Jason said. "But you can't tell Mom and Dad what I'm about to show you."

"Is it a secret?" Katie whispered, with her hands over her mouth.

"Yep, it's a big secret."

"I like secrets," Erin said. She winked, and Jason thought he might melt.

"It's out in the garage." Jason led them down the steps to the living room, and from there into the garage.

"Are we going to play?" Erin took out her harmonica.

"Maybe." Jason knelt by his dad's old Corvette and slid out a cardboard box covered with a drop cloth. He'd moved the instruments into it when they shrank to toy size.

Now he removed the drop cloth. Erin and Katie leaned forward to look at the little instruments, all of them carved with fairy runes: the lute with the amethysts in the soundboard, the reed pipes, the silver harp, the drum.

"Oooh, pretty!" Katie said.

"What are these for?" Erin asked.

Jason took a deep breath. "Okay. So the other night, this...goblin sneaks into my house."

"Goblin?" Erin raised an eyebrow.

"It's true!" Katie said. "He was a ugly green monster!"

"Oh...a _goblin_ ," Erin said, as if this were just a game for Katie's benefit, and she was playing along. "I bet that _was_ scary."

"But Jason runned him off!" Katie added.

"Yeah..." Jason actually felt a little relieved Katie was here to back up his story. "So I chased the goblin over to Mrs. Dullahan's house. You know Mrs. Dullahan?"

"I know of her," Erin said. "With the creepy house on the edge of town?"

"She's a witch!" Katie said.

"So, I chase the goblin there, and then...I follow him into the fairy world."

"I like fairies!" Katie contributed.

"And I found these instruments," Jason said. "They're magic."

Erin looked from Jason to Katie, as if trying to figure out the joke.

Jason picked up the lute. "The problem is, they shrank when I brought them back. Just like the goblin--he was smaller when he was here, but he was taller in the fairy world. Still pretty short, though. Everyone over there was short, except for the ogres."

"Of course...the ogres." Erin looked puzzled. And a little worried. She crossed her arms tight and leaned back, away from him.

"Yeah, I know it sounds crazy," Jason said. "But these things make amazing music. Just listen to this, okay?"

Erin stared at him, frowning.

"This isn't really funny, Jason," she said.

"You'll see what I mean. Trust me." Jason touched his guitar pick to one string of the lute, took a deep breath, then plucked it and let it hum. A deep, melancholy sound filled the garage, and he suddenly felt very sad.

He plucked the next string, a higher note, and now he felt wistful, nostalgic, thinking of the time his team had won the county Little League championship. And his fifth birthday party. And his Grandmother baking sugar cookies on Christmas Eve.

Erin frowned and looked away. "That's really powerful," she said, and she sounded a little sad, too.

He plucked the next string, and as it vibrated its slightly higher tone, he felt lonely.

"I wish we had a dog," Katie said. "I would hug him all the time."

The fourth string cheered everybody up. He was glad to be here, with Erin and even his pesky little sister. The girls smiled a little.

The fifth string made everyone laugh and brought fresh, happy energy into the room. The sixth put a huge, blissful smile on everyone's face.

"I like that one best," Katie said.

"It's like each one makes you feel something different," Erin said. "Three kinds of sadness, three kinds of happiness."

"And when you play them all together..." Jason strummed the pick across all six strings.

Erin closed her eyes as the music passed through her. "Oh... _wow_. That's really beautiful."

"Play it some more, Jason!" Katie demanded. "I want more!"

"That's what we like to hear from the audience," Erin said. She smiled at Jason.

"Want to try a whole song?" Jason asked.

"Sure." Erin took out her harmonica.

"You should try this." Jason handed her the matchbook-sized set of reed pipes. "You play it like a harmonica."

"Pan pipes," Erin said. "That's neat. But they're too small to play." Erin held them to her lips. "I'd just blow all the pipes at once." She set it aside and put her harmonica to her lips. "I'll stick with old reliable Monica here."

"What should we play?" Jason set the small lute face-up on his lap.

"I'd really like to hear how 'Remember' sounds on that lute," Erin said. "Think you can handle it?"

"I think so." Jason began playing Erin's song 'Remember' on the lute strings. He used the same hand positions and strings he would have used if he were playing his guitar. The music came out deep, rich and heartbreaking. The lute grew warm in his hands.

Erin followed along with her harmonica for a few bars, then she sang:

_Remember the day when you were young,_

_Remember the time when you believed,_

_Remember the world where you were loved,_

_Remember the years when you felt free..._

The guitar squirmed like a live animal in Jason's hands. The bent neck straightened out, and the whole lute swelled larger.

"Whoa, what's happening?" Jason asked. "Are you seeing this?"

"That's not possible, is it?" Erin poked at the lute. "It looks like it's _alive_ or something."

"It's magic!" Katie said.

"Let's keep playing," Erin said. "I want to see what happens."

They played all the way through 'Remember,' while the lute grew and shifted in his hands. The enchanted instrument brought an incredible power to the song, and all three of them were in tears by the time Erin sang the last verse:

_Remember the promise you never kept,_

_Nothing you said was ever true._

_I know you've forgotten all about me,_

_But I'll never forget about you._

Jason couldn't stop crying. It felt like the song had ripped him open. Katie was blubbering loudly, while Erin held her hands over her face and shuddered.

"Hey, it's okay," Jason whispered. He patted Katie's head with one hand. "Erin? That was really good. You write amazing songs."

Erin kept sobbing into her hands.

"Are you okay?" Jason asked.

Erin slowly lowered her hands, revealing a face that was red and streaked with tears. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cry."

"Everybody is," Jason said.

"You know why I was such a spaz about that necklace?" Erin asked. "That was the last birthday present my dad gave me. When I was nine. He left like a month later. Now it's a five-dollar bill in my birthday card, if he remembers at all. And he usually doesn't."

"I'm sorry." Jason took her hand. "Is that what the song is about? Your parents' divorce?"

"It's stupid." Erin pulled her hand away from him and pushed blond and green hair back from her face. "Stupid song."

"It's not," Jason said.

"Can you play something happy now?" Katie asked.

Erin laughed and wiped her eyes. "That's a good idea, Katie. Let's play my happiest song."

"'Stolen Rhino'?" Jason asked.

Erin smiled and blew a few jazzy, upbeat sounds on her harmonica.

"Wait," Jason said. He picked up the little pan pipes and held them out to her. "Play this."

"It's too little."

"It might not stay that way." Jason thumped the instrument in his lap, and Erin gaped.

The lute had transformed into a guitar. Not only was it full-sized, but it fit perfectly in Jason's arms, as if it had been custom-built for him. The fairy runes were carved all over the guitar, giving it a strange, engraved texture under his fingers. The little amethysts were still embedded here and there in the soundboard, but they hadn't changed size at all, so they looked tiny.

"That's amazing," Erin said. She took the little pan pipes from his hand and studied them. "Where did you get these instruments, again?"

"It's just what I said," Jason told her. "There's a door to the fairy world in Mrs. Dullahan's yard. That's where I found them."

"I want to go to the fairy world!" Katie said.

"It's very dangerous over there," Jason said. "And crazy. I'm not going back."

"But I want to," she complained.

"You really don't," Jason said. Now he felt like an idiot for talking about fairies in front of his little sister--of course she'd be interested. "They aren't nice fairies like in stories. They carry big swords and they walk around threatening everyone. They're nasty, scary fairies. You have to stay away, Katie."

"Scary fairies?" Katie pouted. Her eyes were still puffy from crying.

"Scary fairies," Jason repeated, nodding.

Erin held the tiny pipes to her lips and blew. The sound was haunting, and a cool breeze seemed to pass through the garage, though the doors to the outside were closed.

The pipes swelled in her hands as if she were blowing up a row of balloons. Then the instrument was large enough for her to play each pipe individually. As with the lute-turned-guitar, each pipe gave a different sound and inspired a different, overpowering emotion. As Erin blew on the pipes, Jason felt like his brain was working faster, generating lots of ideas. He was getting excited.

"Are you ready to play yet?" Katie asked.

"I'm ready," Erin said, giving Jason a smile. She blew some bright notes through the more cheerful-toned pipes. "I'm not too sure how to play this thing."

"Just treat it like it's your harmonica," Jason said. "I think it adapts to you."

"Cool!" Erin played more notes, and the pan pipes wiggled to fit better into her fingers. Erin laughed. "It tickles."

Jason began playing "Stolen Rhino" on his guitar. It was a fast, peppy, simple song.

Erin accompanied him on the pipes. The guitar vibrated in his hands, tuning into the pipe sound and harmonizing with it. Hot wind tousled his hair, but he couldn't tell where it was coming from.

Erin lowered the pipes and sang:

_You took me for a date at the zoo_

_Said my love left something to prove_

_So I did all I knew to do_

_I stole a fat rhinoceros for you!_

_Stolen rhino, in my car_

_Stolen rhino, now love me more_

_Stolen rhino, I did it for you_

_Stolen rhino, don't make me steal two!_

__ Katie was laughing her head off. Erin played a musical interlude. The pan pipes shifted and molted in her fingers, and finally settled into the shape of a wooden harmonica carved with fairy runes.

After the fun song, the whole room seemed to glow, as if everyone and everything were infused with a warm, golden light.

"I love that song!" Katie shouted. "Play it again now!"

Jason and Erin's eyes met, and they both burst into uncontrollable giggles, and then full-blown hysterical laughter, as if they'd both had nitrous oxide at the dentist's office. It was a few minutes before they could calm down enough to talk again.

"Wow," Erin said. She looked at her new harmonica, Jason's guitar, and the little drum and harp still in the box. "Wow, wow, wow. I'm starting to believe you really got these from fairies."

"I wasn't kidding."

"We have to call Mitch and Dred!" Erin said. "Like, tonight. We have to get together and jam with these new instruments and see what they can do."

"I want to come!" Katie said.

"I can't go anywhere tonight," Jason said. "I'm grounded, plus I have to work at my new job. My dad could check to make sure I'm there. He does that."

"Where are you working?" Erin asked.

Jason looked down at the floor. "Buddy McSlawburger's."

"You're working at Bloody McSlobberbooger's?" Erin laughed. "Do you wear the funny hat?"

"Everyone has to wear the funny hat."

"We have to do this soon," Erin said. "I'm dying to see Mitch and Dred's faces when they see this."

"Then it'll have to be during the day when my parents are gone," Jason said.

"I wanna come, too!" Katie said.

"And it'll have to be a day I'm not babysitting Katie."

"I'm not a _baby_."

"Okay," Erin said. "Let's call them and figure out a time. I'm so excited, Jason!"

Erin hugged his neck tight, and Jason wished he wasn't sitting in a chair, and that there wasn't a guitar between them.

Chapter Twelve

In Mitch's garage, Mitch sat at his keyboard and Dred sat behind her drum kit. They stared as if Jason and Erin had lost their minds. It was Thursday afternoon, the first time all four of them could get together.

"I'm serious," Erin said, holding up her new, rune-engraved harmonica. "Magic instruments."

"Right," Dred said.

"There are two more." Jason took the two remaining toy-sized instruments out of the cardboard box he'd brought over. "Dred, obviously you get the drum. So that leaves you with the harp, Mitch." He gave Mitch the little silver harp, and Mitch just looked at it, puzzled.

"How am I supposed to play this thing?" Mitch asked.

"You'll see." Jason held out the muffin-sized drum to Dred, who just stared at it like it was a dead fish. He set it down on her snare drum.

"This is really sad, you guys," Dred said. "How can you both go completely insane on the same day?"

"Let's just play a little," Erin said. "Watch."

Erin started the tune to "First Road Out of Here" on her harmonica. A cool breeze passed through the hot garage, stirring some magazines stacked next to Mitch's keyboard. The Claudia Lafayette poster on the wall billowed out at the bottom, since it was secured only by thumbtacks at the top.

Dred and Mitch looked at each other while the gentle breeze tossed their hair.

Jason joined in, and the breeze became hotter. The guitar was warm.

The little wind stopped when Erin lowered the harmonica to sing the lyrics. The song conjured intense feelings in Jason, a combination of loneliness and wanderlust and a touch of nostalgia, a stronger reaction than he'd ever had to it before.

"Those are amazing," Mitch said, when Erin stopped singing for a harmonica interlude in the middle of the song. Mitch strummed the little harp with his fingertip. "Great sound, but how do I play it?"

"Turn it on its side," Jason said. "Pretend it's the strings of a piano."

"It won't work that way," Mitch said.

"It will in a minute."

Mitch rolled his eyes and turned the harp on its side. He tapped at the strings, as if his fingertips were the hammers inside a piano. The harp expanded and reshaped itself, growing more strings in between the existing ones. A keyboard grew out of the side facing Mitch, the black keys made of onyx, the white made of opal.

"Whoa!" Mitch stood up and backed away. "That's all kinds of messed up. What's happening?"

"It's adapting to you," Jason said. "You have to keep playing so it'll finish changing."

"Changing into what?"

"Whatever works best for you."

Mitch played the keys, and the strings vibrated as he did it, though there weren't any hammers tapping them. A gleaming silver lid unfolded from one edge of the harp and closed over the strings. Buttons made of gemstones blossomed across the top, imitating his synthesizer keyboard.

Mitch shook his head, but he kept playing. The keyboard's sound was deep and rich.

Dred just gaped. She hadn't touched the little drum Jason had given her.

They reached the end of the song.

"This must be some kind of weird dream," Mitch said. "I'm dreaming, right? This can't happen."

"Let's do another song," Erin said.

"How about 'Nuclear Morning'?" Mitch suggested. "I want to hear how that sounds on these things."

Erin started with the harmonica part, and Jason and Mitch joined in. Dred sat back, arms folded, shaking her head.

The keyboard sprouted silver wires that snaked around and plugged into Mitch's other keyboards, as well as the small laptop he kept connected to increase his range of sample and sound options. The old keyboard and the laptop turned silver, and the fairy runes etched themselves all over the surface of them, as if the magical instrument was infecting them like a virus.

"Whoa, whoa!" Mitch backed away again. "That is crazy." Jason and Erin stopped playing.

"Keep playing!" a voice yelled.

The elementary school kids from Mitch's neighborhood who sometimes watched them practice, two boys and a girl, were standing in the driveway. All three were watching the band intently.

"Mitch, the audience demands more," Erin said with a grin. "Are you ready?"

Mitch looked at Dred, who still had her arms folded. "Dred?"

"I think you're right, Mitch," Dred said. "I'm the one having a crazy dream. I'm just going to sit here until I wake up."

"It's not a dream," Jason said. "These were made by fairies--"

"No, no, I heard the story," Dred said. "It's nonsense. This is all just...nonsense."

"Play some more!" another kid demanded. A fourth kid, one Jason hadn't seen before, who had just arrived on a skateboard.

"Something for the skater kid," Erin said. "Which song do you think, Mitch?"

Mitch looked between Erin and the kids. "Um...Cinderella Night? Fast?"

"Fast," Jason agreed.

They played, and the kids danced to rapid tempo, though Dred still hadn't joined in on her drums. During the song, more kids showed up dancing in the driveway and the front yard, including middle and high schoolers, as if the music had drawn them all out of their homes and down the street. It was turning into a semi-outdoor concert.

With three of the fairy instruments going, the guitar in Jason's hands really started to buzz and cast off heat. Fortunately, the keyboard seemed to turn the hot wind circulating inside the garage into something wet and cooling, like the breeze off Lake Wisota.

Energized by the growing audience, and unregulated by any drummer, Jason, Erin and Mitch kept accelerating the song, playing an extended instrumental version of it. The dancers moved faster with them, colliding with each other and laughing. One of the girls in the audience waved her iPhone around, capturing images of the band and the dancing crowd.

Mitch went wild on the keyboards as he grew familiar with his new instrument. Erin and Jason stepped back and let him have an extended solo. He played as if possessed, his tongue sticking out of his mouth, his hands a blur across the keys, the assorted gemstones on the keyboard case glowing brighter and brighter.

Jason watched the crowd, amazed at how they'd come from nowhere.

Erin nudged Jason, and he looked back at Mitch. Blue steam erupted from the gemstones, forming into a cloud around Mitch, but Mitch either didn't notice or didn't care.

The cloud grew larger and drifted through the garage, passing over Jason and Erin. It was cool and refreshing, not hot. No wonder Mitch didn't mind.

It drifted out, with a trail of cool blue steam still feeding into it from the keyboard. The cloud expanded as Mitch's solo continued, and it rose above the crowd.

Mitch hit a crescendo and leaned back, dropping his hands in his lap. He was drenched in sweat and gasping for air.

The cloud rumbled, and then dumped rain all over the dancing kids.

The audience shrieked and scattered, all of them dripping wet and laughing. Jason watched them spread out through the neighborhood, jostling each other as they ran.

"Did that really just happen?" Erin asked.

"Which part?" Jason asked her.

_"_ Any of it. That was unreal."

"Oh, man," Mitch said, wiping his face with his T-shirt. "I _love_ this keyboard."

"This is too crazy for me," Dred stood up, tossing her keys in the air. She left the little fairy drum where Jason had placed it, on top of her snare. "I'm going for a milkshake. Anybody coming?"

"Why don't you stay and try out your drum?" Erin asked.

"It's not my drum," Dred said. "And I don't believe in magic."

They watched Dred climb into her van and drive away.

"Man...I _love_ this keyboard," Mitch repeated. He was staring at it with a crazy grin.

Chapter Thirteen

Aoide flew over the bright green Poisoned Forest, far south of Sidhe City. She'd been flying all day, from dawn until nearly dusk, and every muscle in her back ached. Fortunately, she'd just caught a hot south-moving breeze, and now she could spread out her wings and drift for a while. Rhodia floated alongside Aoide, her long pink hair twisting in the wind, her face looking tired and miserable. Aoide felt the same way.

The dark waters of the Acheron River flowed wide and sluggish through the forest below. The forest itself was known for its impenetrable tangles of plants with sharp spines and deadly venom. It was also home to carnivorous plants that camouflaged themselves in the jungle foliage until a jumping deer or a duck-billed bear stepped within snapping distance.

The Poisoned Forest was too dangerous to cross on foot or on beastback, so they flew. Neus the faun and Skezg the ogre couldn't fly, so they hadn't come along. Lucky guys.

Icarus of the Queensguard flew ahead of them, leading them southward along the great river. He'd roused Aoide and Rhodia from sleep before dawn to make this journey. He didn't seem tired at all, despite his heavy black armor. The armor must have been enchanted to make it feel weightless, Aoide thought. He occasionally glanced back with an annoyed look, as if he felt the two musicians were flying too slowly.

"Are we there yet?" Rhodia gasped.

"I hope so," Aoide replied.

Below them, the Acheron River grew wider and shallower, eventually spreading out into a dark marsh that stretched from horizon to horizon, full of swampy little islands. Stalk-shaped plants, giant sugarcanes, grew from the swamp, some of them taller and thicker than city watchtowers. Their foliage overlapped, concealing most of the ground beneath them.

Aoide sighed in relief when Icarus began to spiral down from the sky towards the swamp. Aoide and Rhodia followed.

He landed on a small, marshy island, where Aoide and Rhodia's bare feet splashed into the wet mud. Icarus's black boots sank even farther. The thick towers of cane overshadowed them, and they were walled in by dense stands of smaller canes, which were still four times taller than Aoide.

The entire swamp smelled sweet, as if they'd landed in a confectioner's shop. The humid, syrupy air was dense with flying insects.

"This place is so gross," Rhodia said. She lifted one foot, which was covered in gloppy, sticky mud.

An insect landed on Aoide's arm and pressed its big, trumpet-shaped snout against her skin. It began to suck, and the sensation was painful. She slapped it away, but its mouth left a coin-sized circle of itchy red on her arm.

Overhead, a fuzzy creature the size of a small dog with huge, leathery wings swooped down at Aoide with its mouth open. She and Rhodia screamed and ducked, while Icarus backed away, drawing his bright iron sword.

The creature ate a swath through the flying bugs, leaving a streak of empty air behind it. It tilted upwards and flew high along the trunk of a giant old cane. It grabbed onto the thick leaves on the cane's side and hung upside down, chewing its mouthful of bugs.

"What was that?" Aoide asked.

"A sugar bat," Icarus said. "The sugar cane makes the swamp water sweet, and the sugar water attracts all these swarms of bugs. So the bats grow very fat here."

"Ugh," Rhodia said, waving away more of the trumpet-mouthed suckerflies. "I can't believe we had to come all the way to the sugar swamps. I'm ready for a nice bed and a tea-and-pastry."

"You won't find those here," Icarus said. He swung his long sword at a wall of sugarcane, felling a dozen of the plants. Then he stepped forward and swung the sword again, hacking a path through the dense growth. "Come on."

Aoide and Rhodia followed at distance, leery of his sword. Iron was deadly to fairies, which was why the Queensguard used iron weapons.

The mud slurped at their feet with every step, and they swatted flies from their faces and arms as they walked along the path of chopped sugarcane. High, dense staffs of cane surrounded them on both sides.

"We are _literally_ in the sticks," Rhodia complained.

"Watch out for the swamp bugs," Icarus called back. "They'll suck the sweetness right out of you."

"I don't have much sweetness left," Rhodia said.

They hopped over a creek of dark sugar water onto the next marshy island, which was also dense with cane. Icarus held up a hand for them to stop, and then untied a spiral-shaped goat horn from his belt. He blew a long note to announce their arrival.

"Who blows there?" a deep, gristly voice asked through the screen of sugarcane.

"I am Icarus, a captain of the Queensguard," Icarus said. "With me are Aoide the Lutist and Rhodia the Harpist."

"Fairies!" the voice sneered. There was a sound like hacking, and then spitting. "Go away."

"We've come on the orders of the Queen," Icarus said.

" _Your_ Queen," the gristly voice said. "We are queenless here."

"All of Faerie is the domain of Queen Mab," Icarus said.

"Not this patch of swamp," the voice replied.

"We've come to hire your services," Icarus said. "The Queen offers a generous payment."

"I don't take fairy gold," the voice said. "It has a way of turning to broom flowers in a day or two."

"We have brought many forms of payment," Icarus said, looking Aoide. Aoide carried in her pouch an assortment of jewels and silver coins, all of her savings, as well as the savings of Rhodia, Neus, and Skezg. The Queen was making them pay the hunter's fee.

"Then come around," the voice said. "There's a break in the cane off to your left."

Icarus sheathed his sword. The three fairies followed the wall of cane around the curve of the marshy island and found the opening. Aoide and Rhodia shared worried looks as they followed Icarus through.

At the highest point in the island sat a hut made of sugarcane, brambles and mud. A garden of beets grew beside it.

Next to the hut was a sugarcane the size of a tree. An elf with graying beard stubble and a tattered old gardening hat sat back against it, chewing a juicy splinter of cane, his horsehair clothes and sandals caked in dried mud. The elf eyed them suspiciously.

"Thank you for the invitation," Icarus said. "We would like to hire you as a tracker and hunter. Four objects of high magic must be found."

"And you fancy city fairies came all the way here, just to ask a simple country elf for help." The elf smirked.

"But you aren't just a simple country elf," Icarus said. "The scrolls say you were a highly decorated knight in the Great Elf and Fairy War."

"A war your side won," the elf said. "It wasn't so 'Great' for our side." The elf spat.

"That was thousands of years ago," Icarus said.

"Doesn't seem so long ago." The elf sneered at Aoide and Rhodia. "The whole realm used to be known as Aelfer, or the Elflands _._ I bet you young brats didn't even know that."

"I'm not a young brat," Aoide said. "I'm nearly seven centuries old. And Rhodia just had her five hundredth birthday."

"And I've lived ten thousand years longer than you children!" the elf barked. "Show some respect for your elders."

"The Queen requires your service," Icarus repeated.

"Now, hold your quarterhorses there, city fairy." The elf stood, leaning on a thick staff of sugarcane. He looked at the golden seal of the Queen on Icarus's breastplate, and then pointed at Aoide and Rhodia. "I know what you are, warrior, but who are these two?"

"As I said, Aoide the Lutist and Rhodia the Harpist. Musicians."

"You've brought musicians?" the elf asked. He raised his hat in greeting, revealing long and stringy hair. His left ear was tall and pointy, but his right ear ended in scar tissue, and the tip of it was missing. "Ladies, welcome to my back corner of the sugar swamps. I am called Hoke the Swamp Elf, unfortunately. A wind of ill luck blew me here long ago."

"Hoke?" Rhodia said. "I've never heard of an elf name like that."

Aoide elbowed her to be quiet.

"If you like, you can call me by my given name, Hokealussiplatytorpinquarnartnuppy Melaerasmussanatolinkarrutorpicus Darnathiopockettlenocbiliotroporiqqua Bellefrost. But most people call me 'Hoke.'" He chewed on his sugarcane splinter. "So, you brought musicians to entertain me. Why don't you play a song for us?"

"That's just the problem," Aoide said. "Someone stole our instruments."

"And so the purpose of our visit--" Icarus began.

"I would think musicians could improvise," Hoke said. "Can't you sing or nothing? There's not much music to be had, way out here. No taverns, no amphitheater. Nobody to talk to, really."

"I would like to discuss the terms of our bargain--" Icarus tried again.

"First, I want my song," Hoke said. "Then I'll hear whatever it is you want to say."

Aoide and Rhodia looked at each other. Rhodia cleared her throat.

" _Mi mi mi mi miiiii..._ " Rhodia sang, warming up.

Aoide sang the first line of the song, and then Rhodia joined in. It was "Sometimes in the Night," a ballad about an elf and a fairy who fell in love during the Great War, and had to keep their love a secret. It began as a sweet and romantic song, and ended tragically.

As Aoide and Rhodia sang the last verse, Aoide thought she could see a little wetness in Hoke's eyes. He wiped them with the back of his muddy hand and looked away.

"I do miss being young," Hoke said. "Young and foolish and ready to love."

Aoide and Rhodia smiled and curtsied, as if he'd applauded.

Hoke looked at Icarus and sighed.

"What is this help that you and Mad Queen Mab want from me?" Hoke asked.

"You will not refer to Her Majesty that way! It is forbidden!" Icarus snapped. His black-gloved hand flew to the handle of his sheathed sword.

"She's the one crushed the whole realm under her iron boot."

"Treason!" Icarus said.

"Relax, Icarus," Aoide said. "He's ready to listen now. Right, Hoke?"

"I will listen, but no promises," Hoke said. "I am very busy here."

Rhodia looked around the swamp with a puzzled expression, probably wondering what could keep him busy in this dismal place.

"Go ahead, Icarus," Aoide said.

"As I have been attempting to say," Icarus said, "Four instruments of high magic have been stolen."

"And I can guess it from there," Hoke said. "You want me and my cornhorses to track them down."

"What's a cornhorse?" Rhodia asked.

"Some call 'em unicorns, I call 'em cornhorses," Hoke said. "Best creature for sniffing out magic, except for a banshee wolf, and good luck finding one of those for hire."

"So, where are the unicorns?" Rhodia asked.

"Unicorn's a shy critter," Hoke said. "Everybody get down low, on your knees, so you don't look so darn big."

Aoide and Rhodia lifted their skirts and squatted on their heels in the mud. They looked around the thick stands of cane, eager to see a live unicorn. Aoide had only seen them in sculpture or paintings. They were very rare, very skittish.

"You, too," Hoke said to Icarus.

"A Queensguard will not kneel to an elf," Icarus said.

"You aren't kneeling _to_ me, wasp-brain," Hoke said. "You want these cornhorses to come or not?"

"Just sit down already," Aoide whispered.

Icarus scowled at her. He spread an embroidered silk handkerchief on a muddy log of fallen sugarcane before sitting down on it. He kept his hand on his belt, near his sword.

Hoke squatted and laid his sugarcane staff on its side in the mud. He hummed a high note.

"Cinnamon!" Hoke sang out. "Berrymuffin! Buttercake! Come on, girls!"

There was a tiny splashing sound behind a thick patch of sugarcane. The first unicorn nosed her way out, timidly, tiptoeing on her cloven hooves. She was smaller than a pygmy pony, with a reddish coat. Her tail and mane, and the spiral horn that spiked out from the center of her forehead, were the color of dark cinnamon.

She took a few steps forward on trembling legs, then stopped, staring at the fairies.

"She's just a little scared," Hoke whispered.

"Awww," Rhodia whispered. "It's okay, little girl."

The second unicorn emerged just as cautiously. Her coat was the color of brown sugar, her mane and horn a strawberry shade of red, her eyes like big blueberries. She stood close to the first unicorn, their sides nearly touching.

"Buttercake!" Hoke called again.

The third unicorn walked out meekly, with her nose lowered until it almost dragged the swampy earth. Her coat was the color of yellow cake, and her mane and horn were like pink frosting. Buttercake stayed behind the first two unicorns, gazing at Aoide with huge chocolate-colored eyes.

"Hi, Buttercake," Aoide whispered, smiling.

"Don't speak to my cornhorses!" Hoke snapped.

"Are we ready to give them the scent?" Icarus asked.

"Not so fast, city fairy," Hoke said. "First I see my payment."

Icarus nodded at Aoide.

Aoide sighed and lifted the drawstring pouch. She was determined to keep as much of her friends' savings as she could.

She chose a big ruby, one of her own jewels, and held it out to Hoke. "Will this do as a first payment?"

The elf yawned.

Aoide took out a pearl, also her own, and laid it next to the ruby in her palm. "This?"

Hoke crossed his arms and looked away.

"You don't have to use all your own things to pay him," Rhodia said. "Throw in that emerald Neus gave you."

Aoide added the emerald to her palm.

The elf squinted one eye and leaned close to Aoide's hand, then snatched the gemstones away. They disappeared from his hand--he must have slipped them into a pocket somewhere in his mud-caked clothes.

"And twice as much when the task is done," Hoke said.

"We can do that," Icarus said.

Aoide bit her lip. It was going to cost nearly everything, leaving the four musicians broke. They had no choice, though.

"Now, we'll need the scent," Hoke said. He pointed at Aoide. "You. Come and stand by me. Don't move too fast, or you'll spook off the cornhorses."

She did as the elf said, stepping lightly and carefully.

"Buttercake," Hoke whispered. He pulled a beet from the garden and held it out. "Come here, little girl."

Buttercake advanced slowly towards Hoke, giving Aoide a wide berth and a spooked look. Buttercake nibbled the beet in Hoke's hand, and the elf petted her mane.

"There," Hoke said. "Now, we need to find these missing instruments, Buttercake. Have a sniff."

His calloused hand seized Aoide's and put it close to the unicorn's mouth. Buttercake sniffed Aoide's palm, then swished her pink tail.

"What kind of instruments am I looking for, exactly?" Hoke asked.

"I play a lute," Aoide said. "Rhodia has a silver harp. And there's pan pipes and a drum. But the instruments can change depending on who plays them. If a fairy blew on Neus' pan pipes, they might turn into a flute."

"So what do they look like now?" Hoke asked.

"It depends who took them," Aoide said.

"You don't have any idea who it was?" Hoke asked.

"Nor do we know their intentions," Icarus said. "The Queen's seer tells us they have left the realm of Faerie. These instruments could cause incredible destruction in the human world. In the hands of anyone not properly trained by the Musicians' Guild..."

"It could be a nightmare," Aoide said.

"The man-world." Hoke lifted his hat and scratched around in his stringy, dirty hair. "Haven't been there in a century or ten. So, we don't know what the things look like or who has 'em or why. They'll take some time to track down. Buttercake's my best sniffer, though. Next fairy!"

Aoide backed off and let Buttercake sniff Rhodia's hand. Rhodia giggled and tried to pet the unicorn, but the little creature skittered back out of reach.

"Hands off my cornhorse!" Hoke barked. "And where's the scents for the other two instruments?"

"Here." Aoide opened another pouch. It contained a swatch of Skezg's filthy shirt, to give the unicorn the ogre's smell. It also had a locket of Neus' white fur, since he didn't wear clothes. The faun let the shaggy goat fur on his hips and legs serve as trousers. He didn't even wear shoes, because the bottoms of his stubby feet and toes were coated with hard hoof.

Buttercake sniffed inside the pouch for a couple of minutes. Then she stuck out her tongue and backed away.

"What about the other unicorns?" Icarus asked. Cinnamon and Berrymuffin had wandered away a little bit, to slurp from a pool of sugar water.

"If you think I'm taking more than one unicorn up to man-world, then you're madder than Queen Mab."

"I warned you!" Icarus reached for his sword, but Aoide grabbed his arm and shushed him.

"It's just a figure of speech," Hoke said. He snorted, then spat a ball of bright orange elf-snot into a puddle near Icarus's boot.

Icarus opened his mouth. Aoide was pretty sure that whatever he said next would lead to an argument or a fight, so she cut him off.

"Is that all you need to begin your search?" Aoide asked Hoke.

"Sounds like that's all you have," Hoke said. "Do we at least know through which doorway the thief entered the man-world? Was it Glastonbury Door?"

"We don't know," Aoide said.

Hoke shook his head and lowered the brim of his hat. He resumed sitting under the shade of the leafy sugar cane by his hut. Buttercake nibbled some flowering weeds beside him.

"When do you intend to begin searching?" Icarus asked.

"After we've had time to rest." Hoke pulled the hat down over his eyes. "Buttercake's a delicate one. Needs her beauty sleep."

"This is urgent!" Icarus snarled.

"Then I'd be better get plenty of sleep," Hoke said. "Don't want me slipping up."

"He said he'll do it, Icarus," Aoide said.

"He'd better. Or we'll show him that Her Majesty Queen Mab does, indeed, rule the swamplands!" Icarus stepped away, out through the break in the wall of cane.

"What a sourdrop," Hoke said.

"He's kind of cranky," Aoide said. "We really do appreciate your help. We really, really need our instruments back. Sorry about Mister Whineyboots out there."

"If they can be found, Buttercake will find them," Hoke said from under his hat. Buttercake looked up and blinked at her name, then resumed grazing.

Aoide and Rhodia walked toward the gap in the sugarcane.

"Will this really work?" Rhodia whispered. "Those unicorns look useless."

"They say unicorns are more than what they appear to be," Aoide whispered. She nudged Rhodia's arm and pointed.

Cinnamon raised her head from a sugary pool, grasping a black and red swamp cobra in her mouth. Its hooded head arched above the unicorn's face, and its fiery red eyes glared down at her. The cobra hissed, with its long fangs dripping venom, and poised to strike the unicorn's soft nose.

Cinnamon snapped her head from side to side, whipping the cobra like a rope. Cracking sounds burst all along the snake's spine. When Cinnamon finally stopped shaking, the long cobra lay limp in her mouth. She sucked up the cobra's body like a noodle. When she'd devoured it, she belched, her ears flattening and her mouth flaring wide. Then she trotted off into the swamp.

Chapter Fourteen

Jason decided to stop by The Creamery in the middle of Friday afternoon, well after the lunch rush but before people got off work, so the place would be as quiet as it got. Erin sometimes talked about being bored that time of day, with nothing to do.

As he rode his bike through the streets of the little town, he imagined how it might go. She'd be happy to take a break. They could have an ice cream at one of the little tables outside on the sidewalk (and he'd have a cone of Chocolate Cashew Snowslide, his favorite flavor). He was determined to tell Erin how he felt about her.

Normally, the idea of talking about such things created a tense ball of nerves deep in his gut and stopped his mouth from working properly. The more he played his new guitar, though, the bolder he felt. It made him feel like taking risks.

He'd even brought the song "Angel Sky," again on a folded page of notebook paper in his pocket, though he'd rewritten some of the verses a number of times since his last attempt to present the song to the band. Maybe telling Erin how much he liked her and giving her the song at the same time would be too much, and she would deem him a creepy stalker guy. But having it in his pocket was like a statement to himself that he was going to make things happen today.

He rode along the sidewalk and glanced into the plate-glass front window of The Creamery. Erin was there behind the ice cream counter, in her paper Creamery hat and white apron. She leaned over the counter, talking intently to someone.

He passed the huge ice-cream-cone-shaped chalkboard in the window. On the other side, he could see Erin was talking to Zach, her boyfriend. He took her hand, and Erin smiled, shaking her head about something while she spoke.

All his nerves crashed. It was scary enough trying to talk about his feelings with her. He definitely wasn't going to do it with her current boyfriend right there. It would just turn into a fight with Zach--not exactly the afternoon he'd envisioned.

Jason turned the next corner and rode up the block, so he wouldn't pass The Creamery again. It was a bad idea, anyway. She was already with someone. He had no reason to think she would rather be with him.

A few hours later, Jason stepped up to the counter at Buddy McSlawburger's, facing a long line of customers. The Friday night shift was busy. He saw a number of people he knew from school, and all of them seemed to be pointing at Jason and smiling at each other.

Like every McSlawburger's employee, Jason wore the trademark funny hat. It was like a baseball cap, but with a giant bouncing "slawburger" sewn to the top. The thing was stuffed with cotton and included a bun, burger, cheese and slaw, all made of felt. The top bun tilted jauntily to one side, making the tall fake burger bounce and sway every time you turned your head. There was even a spring inside it to enhance the effect. It looked especially goofy with a group of employees running around behind the counter, the ridiculously tall burgers on their hats swaying and jiggling all over the place.

"Welcome to Buddy McSlawburger's," Jason said to his first customer, a hefty tattooed biker couple. "Would you like a Slawburger Special today?"

"No!" the fat, bearded biker guy said. "I want two of them cheeseburgers, but none of that slaw junk. I hate that stuff. What do you want, baby?"

"A hot dog," the woman said. " _No_ slaw. Got that? _No_ slaw."

"Two slawburgers with cheese, hold the slaw," Jason said into the microphone. "One slawdog, hold the slaw."

"And I want some fries," the biker guy added. "But none of that canned chili junk on it."

"One chili-cheese fry, hold the chili-cheese," Jason said.

Jason's next customer was his math teacher, Coach Bauer.

"Hey there, kiddo," the Coach said. "Kiddo" was his generic name for any student who didn't participate in sports or cheerleading. "Double cheeseburger. None of the slaw, I hate that stuff."

"Double slawburger with cheese, hold the slaw," Jason said into the mike. It was already turning into a long night.

A group of four sophomores came to his register next, two boys and two girls. They'd been among those pointing and smiling about him. Jason sighed. As if his day weren't bad enough, now he was about to get ridiculed by younger kids.

"Hi, Jason!" one girl said, waving. Jason had no idea what her name was.

"Uh, hi," Jason said. "Welcome to McSlawburger's."

"I told you it was him," one of the guys said.

"You're even cuter than in the video!" the other girl said. The guy next to her scowled a little.

"Video?" Jason asked.

"We watched it like twenty times!" the first girl said. The two girls leaned together, held up their index fingers like microphones, and sang a verse of Erin's "Cinderella Night" in screeching, off-key voices:

_Cinderella, Cinderella beware,_

_Don't give yourself up on a dare..._

"Would you budge along?" a crabby-looking older man in a plaid shirt said behind them. "Some of us are trying to order food here."

"What video?" Jason asked.

"I told you it wasn't him," the scowling boy said.

"It is!" the scowling boy's girlfriend said. "You play the guitar, right?"

"Yeah," Jason said. Both the girls squealed. It was so unexpected that he jumped a little. "So, can I take your order?" he asked.

"When are you putting out another video?" the first girl asked.

"Where's your next concert?" the non-scowling boy asked. "We'll totally come."

"I don't know..." Jason said.

"Does your band have a Facebook page?" the boy asked.

"A MySpace?" the second girl asked.

"Not really. How do you know about my band, again?" Jason asked.

"Nobody cares about your band!" barked the man in plaid.

"Sorry, I have to work," Jason said.

"Why are you working _here_ when you can play like that?" the first girl asked.

"Hurry it up!" the plaid-jacket man shouted.

"Do you guys just want slawburgers?" Jason asked the four kids.

"No slaw," the first girl said, and the others hurried to agree.

"Four slawburgers, no slaw," Jason said into the microphone.

The second girl grabbed a napkin and wrote on it. "I'm Wendy," she said. "Call me when you're playing somewhere. Or just, you know, if you want to talk. About anything." She handed him the napkin, which had her phone number and email address under the McSlawburger's logo. The boy who was with her scowled even more.

"I'd better give him my phone number, too." The second girl jotted it down on another napkin and handed it to Jason. "Just in case there's a concert," she explained to her boyfriend.

"You can pick up your burgers at the end of the counter," Jason said. He didn't know what to do with the napkins, so he stuffed them in his pocket.

"Bye, Jason!" the two girls said as they walked to the pick-up area. Then they broke down giggling, grabbing each others' arms. The guy who seemed to like Jason waved, too, while the other one kept scowling as he walked away.

Jason took the man in the plaid shirt's order--slawburger, hold the slaw. Then there were more kids from school talking about Jason's "video." Over the next hour or so, Jason collected phone numbers from five girls and two guys, asking to know when the band would play again.

When he finally got his fifteen-minute break, Jason walked back into the kitchen and checked his phone. He had to keep it turned off during work, because the assistant manager, Mona, couldn't tolerate employees using cell phones.

There were several texts from Mitch, insisting that Jason call him right away. One text linked to a YouTube video.

"Hey, Tadd," Jason said to the guy at the french-fry station, who was in his grade.

"Huh?" Tadd looked up from the big can of McSlawburger's Chili Cheese, which he was spooning onto a basket of fries.

"Do you have your laptop here?" Jason asked. He knew Tadd brought it to work to use the fast-food restaurant's free Wi-Fi during his breaks.

"Oh, yeah," Tadd said.

"Mind if I borrow it?"

"Sure thing. Great video, dude. Though next time, I'd recommend a higher quality camera. Maybe a tripod. I'm into handheld as much as the next guy, but that video was swinging all over the place."

"Yeah, some sixth grade kid in Mitch's neighborhood shot it with her phone."

"Kid with a phone. Very raw. Very real. Breaking boundaries. I like it."

"Thanks..." Jason said, and he continued on to the back door.

He sat on the uncomfortable concrete bench out back, and he finally saw the video everyone was talking about.

It was from yesterday, Jason and Erin and Mitch playing "Cinderella Night" at Mitch's house. The viewpoint bounced wildly from the band in the garage, to the kids dancing in the driveway and front yard, the sky, the street, the grass and shrubbery outside Mitch's house. Jason remembered the middle school girl who'd been waving her iPhone around while dancing. She must have uploaded this.

Jason found himself entranced by the music, swaying as he watched.

It showed the whole song, including the blue cloud pouring up from the garage, and everyone screaming and running as the downpour drenched them.

According to YouTube, the video had been watched 90,342 times since it was uploaded the previous night.

"Totally great song, yo," somebody said behind him. The burger fryer, a bearded guy named Steve who was a few years older than him, was leaning over Jason's shoulder. Jason hadn't even realized anyone had come outside.

"Thanks," Jason said.

"Who's the chick? She's totally hot."

"She only dates high school guys," Jason lied.

"Oh, bummer. Tell her I said hi, little dude."

"Right." Jason closed the laptop. He carried it across the parking lot towards the Dumpster, to get away from Steve. He dialed Mitch.

"Finally!" Mitch said. "Have you seen it?"

"Yeah. How did that happen?"

"Kelly Kaiser, man. Eighth-grader, lives three houses down."

"Everybody seems to like it," Jason said. "Lots of people are asking when we're going to do a show. Too bad we don't have any gigs, right?"

"This is just the beginning, man," Mitch said. "If people like that crummy video with half a song, imagine what they'll say when we put out a _good_ video."

"That's not a bad idea," Jason said.

Back at the bench, Steve stood up, stretched and opened the door to go back inside. Mona, the assistant manager, stepped out, smiled at Steve as he passed her, then glared hard at Jason.

"No cell phones!" Mona snapped.

"I'm on break," Jason said.

"Not for long!" Mona crossed her arms, looked at her watch, and then stared at him.

"Man, forget Bloody McSlobberbooger's," Mitch said. "You should quit. This thing's going to be very real."

"I'll quit as soon as 'this thing' pays real money," Jason said. "Last time I checked, YouTube was free."

"Yeah, but it's going to lead to everything. Get over here and let's plot some things."

"Thirty seconds!" Mona called, tapping her watch.

"Are you free tomorrow night?" Mitch asked.

"Yeah, unless Mona gets mad and adds me to the schedule. I should go."

"Here's what I'm thinking," Mitch continued. "My mom's working at the hospital tomorrow night. Saturday night, you know? So we play at my house, invite some people over so they can dance, like a party. As long as we straighten the place up before she gets home at six A.M., she'll never know."

"Okay, I'll call you back--" Jason began.

"So we need a bunch of people here," Mitch said.

"I know some people to call." Jason thought of the phone numbers stuffed in his pocket. "I might have more by the end of the night."

"Make sure there's plenty of girls," Mitch said. "We want it to look pretty, you know? And we need somebody with a good camera."

Mona tapped her foot loudly on the pavement. Jason hurried her way.

"I think Tadd Gruber has stuff like that," Jason said. "He's in the A/V club and everything."

"Sounds good. Get him here." Jason stepped toward the door, but Mona blocked him with her fist.

" _No cell phones!_ " Mona shrieked.

"Sorry!" Jason hung up, and she moved a step to let him inside.

Jason returned Tadd's laptop to him. "Hey, Tadd, you have a video camera, right?"

"Oh, yeah. Canon VIXIA Camcorder, full HD, a ten-x lens--"

"Is it good for recording sound?"

"I can get some microphones from the A/V room at school. There's a sweet Soundcraft LX7ii mixing board, too--"

"Can you get them by tomorrow night?" Jason asked.

"Sure. The school janitor owes me a favor."

Jason didn't even want to ask about that. "Great. Want to direct our new video?"

"I'm your guy." Tadd winked and made a gun with his fingers. "I'm ready to shoot ya."

"Right. Thanks." Jason walked toward the front counter.

"Hey, Jason?" Tadd called. "Erin's gonna be there, right?"

"We're all going to be there."

"Can't wait to frame her up in my lens. Bam! Hot stuff!" Tadd made a squarish frame shape with his hands and looked at Jason through it.

Jason was already starting to regret asking Tadd.

"Welcome to Buddy McSlawburger's," Jason said as he stepped up to the counter. "Would you like to try the Slawburger Special?"

Chapter Fifteen

After he got home from work, Jason lay back on his bed and took the thick wad of napkins and McSlawburger's receipts from his pocket. Nine girls from his school had given him their phone numbers, none of whom had ever spoken to him before. He had a ready crowd for the video.

Jason turned out his light and closed his eyes. He needed sleep, but he was too excited. He would see Erin tomorrow, and he could only imagine how happy the unexpected jolt of internet fame was making her. All because of the instruments Jason had snagged from the fairies. He imagined her hugging him, maybe getting really happy and kissing him...even if that didn't happen, it was going to be a fun Saturday night, with everybody coming to hear them play.

He lay in the dark for a couple hours, and then he heard a scratching sound, like some kind of animal was crawling under his bed. Jason flipped on his lamp, leaned over the side of his bed, and raised the cover to look underneath.

There was nothing but dust and dirty clothes. Unfortunately, this meant his guitar was missing.

Jason sat up quickly. Just past the foot of his bed, he could see his guitar case floating towards his bedroom window.

"Hey!" Jason hopped off the bed. A pair of small green hands held the guitar case from underneath. Legs dressed in patched, dirty wool trousers ran the guitar closer to the window.

"Stop!" Jason yelled. Remembering how far the goblin could teleport, Jason jumped right in front of the window, instead of directly at the little man.

It worked. The goblin disappeared in a puff, then reappeared on the windowsill, swaying under the weight of the guitar case. Jason snatched the guitar case away. Grizlemor looked up at him in surprise, still stooped over and holding up his empty hands.

"What are you doing?" Jason asked.

"Er, ah..." Grizlemor said.

"Why are you stealing my guitar?"

"Oh, _your_ guitar?" Grizlemor chuckled, but it sounded fake. He looked scared. "That's funny. I'm only stealing back what you stole!"

"I just need it a little while longer," Jason said. "We're going to make a video."

"Oh, you are not!" Grizlemor's eyes widened. "Are you trying to pull the wrath of Mad Queen Mab down on your head?"

"Who?"

"The queen of the Fairies! I already explained this."

"Why would she care?" Jason asked.

"Why would she...why would she _care_?" The goblin paced back and forth on Jason's windowsill, shaking his head. "You don't know what you've gotten into, do you? The fairies are right. Man-world has forgotten all about the Folk."

"The who?"

"All of us!" Grizlemor thumped his chest. "Goblins, fairies, elves, dwarves, leprechauns, gnomes...perhaps trolls, if you want to be generous..."

"Oh, little magic people."

"In any case, young sir, kindly hand back that guitar, which is stolen fairy property, and I will restore it to the proper owners."

"Yeah, right," Jason said. "You'll probably just sell it."

"I will not! You have my word."

"But you're a thief," Jason said. "And a...goblin. I can't trust you."

"You, too, are a thief," Grizlemor said. "And a human, the least trustworthy thing of all."

"I'm not giving the guitar back." Jason carried it back toward his bed.

Grizlemor appeared on Jason's bed in a puff of green smoke, pulling at his dirty knots of hair. "But think of the damage raw, unleashed elemental magic could do to this world! In the hands of untrained amateurs!"

"What kind of magic?" Jason asked.

"He doesn't even know!" Grizlemor flopped back on Jason's bed, covering his arm with his eyes and kicking his feet. "How could this happen? Why me, Fates?"

"Why do you even care?" Jason asked. "You're a thief, so you can't really be mad that I stole something. And it's not like I stole from you. Why don't you relax?"

"Relax!" Grizlemor shouted, pounding Jason's bed with both fists.

"Quiet!" Jason whispered. "You'll wake everybody up."

Grizlemor rolled over to lie on his side, looking at Jason. "There are Queensguard all over the city," the goblin said. "Knocking on every door. 'Have you seen these instruments?' 'Any idea who might have these instruments?' They're looking for the ones you stole, Jason. That means the Queen knows about it."

"But you don't have the instruments," Jason said. "So you don't need to worry."

"I know when I need to worry! How many people do you suppose spotted me leading you, a human brat, through Sidhe City? Not a captive dancer in a fairy ring, mind you, but just a boy, wandering free as you please in the streets? And of course, the Queen must know they were taken out of Faerie."

"How would she know that?" Jason said.

"Because she wouldn't care about simple theft otherwise!" Grizlemor was hopping up and down on the bed now. "If they remained in Faerie, it would be of no concern to her. But if four instruments of high elemental magic are taken off to man-world, then whew, the trouble that would cause! Why did you have to be so greedy? Why couldn't you just wait for your little darling's necklace?"

"I still want that back."

"Oh, oh, I don't think so," Grizlemor said, wagging a finger. "Unless you bring me all four of the instruments, so we can put this whole thing to rest."

"It's not your necklace," Jason said.

"Neither are those instruments yours." Grizlemor kept bouncing on the bed. "This is quite fun, isn't it?"

"Stop it!" Jason grabbed him and pulled him down to a sitting position. "You're making too much noise. Look, I'll give the instruments back when we're done with them."

"And when will that be?"

"I'm not sure."

"I'm sure you're not," Grizlemor said. "Because the music of those instruments is addictive to humans. You won't be able to stop playing them."

"I'm giving them back!" Jason snapped.

"Don't go and make this 'video' of yours," Grizlemor said. "Honestly, please. You'll be endangering yourself and your friends. Including that man-girl you're so sweet on."

"What are you talking about?"

"The one with the emerald necklace. I saw her sleeping. She was hideously ugly, by goblin standards, but I suppose if you're just a human--"

"Shut up!"

"I'm only trying to make things easy for you," Grizlemor said.

"What happens if I don't give them back?" Jason asked.

"Oh, don't consider that. The Queen will unleash terrible monsters to pursue you. The longer you make her wait, the worse it will be. She may even feed you to the beasts of the labyrinth."

"The what?"

"You don't understand the power of those instruments," Grizlemor said. "You know they make people dance and feel happy. There's much more inside them. They contain the powers of the four elements."

"Which four elements?"

"There are only four."

"I'm pretty sure there are more than a hundred," Jason said, thinking of the periodic table in his chemistry class.

"You only need four for magical purposes," Grizlemor said, then waved a hand. "Anyway, it's obviously way beyond your brain-grasp. The point is, you're endangering me, and you're endangering yourself, and your man-girl--"

"Stop calling her that."

"--and the wrath of fairies is not something you want to find yourself crushed underneath," Grizlemor said.

Jason's bedroom door opened.

"Jason?" Katie asked. "Who you talking to?" Then she gaped.

Jason looked from Katie back to his bed. A puff of green smoke remained where Grizlemor had been.

"It was the monster!" Katie said. "I'm telling Mom and Dad!"

She turned to run down the hall.

"No, Katie, wait!" Jason chased after her and picked her up. "Shhh! Okay? Shhhh!"

Katie looked at him for a few seconds, then nodded her head.

Jason carried her back to his room, closed the door, and set her down.

"Stay very quiet," Jason whispered.

"Okay," she whispered back.

Jason knelt by his bed and lifted the cover. "Come on out, Grizlemor."

After a moment, Grizlemor crawled out and stood up. Katie gaped at the green-skinned goblin, in his filthy woolen cap and coat.

"Katie, this is Grizlemor," Jason said.

Grizlemor doffed his cap and bowed. "Young lady," he said, and Katie giggled.

"Is he a scary fairy?" Katie asked.

"No, he's a goblin."

"But he's a good goblin."

Grizlemor shrugged. "I'm good at _being_ a goblin," he said.

"He's not going to hurt us," Jason said. "But you can't trust him. He's a thief."

Grizlemor looked at Jason and snorted. Jason felt a little guilty, but he hoped Grizlemor wouldn't tell Katie that Jason had stolen the instruments from the fairies.

"Just don't tell Mom and Dad," Jason said. "It'll be okay. He was just leaving." Jason gripped the handle of his guitar case tight. "Right, Grizlemor?"

Grizlemor sighed. "If that's how it must be. But remember my warning. You'll wish you had listened to me, Jason. Good evening, young lady." Grizlemor replaced his cap. He jogged to the window, puffed his way up to the sill, and then vanished in a last puff of green smoke.

"Oooh," Katie said.

"Yeah, ooh," Jason said. "Try chasing him after he stole something of yours."

"What was his warning?" Katie asked.

"It's nothing."

"It sounded big."

"He just, um...doesn't want me telling anybody I saw him. Goblins like to keep themselves secret."

"It wasn't about those fairy instruments, was it?" Katie asked. "Do the fairies want them back?"

"No, it's no big deal, Katie. Don't even worry about it."

"Are you in trouble with the fairies?"

"Nobody's in trouble. Just promise me you won't go wake up Mom and Dad. Okay?"

"He's gone, right?"

"He's all gone."

"Will you tuck me in?"

"Fine, whatever." Jason picked her up and carried her to her room. "There. Good night, Katie."

"And read me a story," Katie whispered.

"Katie, I have to go."

"Just a short one."

Jason shook his head, annoyed. He looked at the bright picture books on Katie's bookshelf. "What kind of story do you want?"

"One about fairies," Katie whispered, with a sneaky grin.

Chapter Sixteen

Saturday, Jason woke up worrying over the goblin's warning. It had been hard to take Grizlemor seriously when Jason had just caught him burglarizing his house again. He'd brushed off Grizlemor's warnings as the goblin's attempt to act like he was doing Jason a favor by robbing him.

Now Jason wondered if there might be some truth in what the goblin said. He looked from his guitar case to the heap of napkins with phone numbers on his table. There had to be some kind of price to pay for this, Jason thought. Magic instruments that could draw such a crowd, and turn many more people into fans after hearing just one song--and only half of the song, really, presented in a shaky, poor quality video made on a phone--magic like that couldn't be just free for the taking.

Jason didn't know if he believed Grizlemor's talk about the Fairy Queen, but the fairy musicians themselves would certainly want such amazing instruments back, and could very possibly harbor some fairy fury for the person who stole them.

He remembered the "Queensguard" fairies in their black armor and long swords. Even if they were small, they looked tough and vicious. Jason could probably fight off one or two, but he wouldn't want to get into a fight with a pack of them.

Then his cell phone rang. Mitch.

"All systems go," Mitch said.

"Huh?"

"It's happening tonight," Mitch said. "Tadd's coming over to shoot the video tonight. Call up all those new fans and let them know."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I just got off the phone with Tadd."

"Maybe this isn't a good idea," Jason said. "We don't even know how this magic stuff works."

"But we know it _works_. Don't back out now. Erin's excited about it, too."

Jason rubbed his head. He didn't want to disappoint her.

He opened his case and looked at the enchanted guitar, the strange runes everywhere on the dark, polished wood, the glimmering golden tuning pegs. He brushed his fingertips along the deep engravings on the soundboard, gazing at the sparkling little amethysts that dotted it here and there. The guitar was warm to the touch, like a living thing. It seemed to call to him. He could barely resist the temptation to pick it up and start playing.

His mom knocked on the door. "Jason, the lawn isn't going to mow itself."

"I'll be out in a minute," Jason told her.

"Not yet, my mom's still here," Mitch said on the phone.

"I wasn't talking to you, Mitch."

" _Mick_. Just get us an audience and get yourself here tonight. I'm taking care of everything else." Mitch hung up.

Jason hesitated, then picked up the first napkin and dialed the number.

"Hello?" a girl's voice asked.

"Hi, um..." He checked the name. "Wendy? This is Jason Becker. You gave me your number last night at Buddy McSlawburger's--"

A painfully high-pitched squeal pierced his eardrum, and Jason pulled the phone away from his head. His ear was ringing.

"Are you okay?" Jason asked when he put the phone back to his ear.

"Ooh, yah," she said. "Everything's great. You?"

"I was just letting you know we're playing a show tonight, if you want to come--"

She let out another excited squeal, and Jason pulled the phone away faster this time.

"Oh, this is awesome!" she was saying. "I can't wait! Where?"

Jason gave her Mitch's address.

"This is so perfect! I can't wait to tell everybody on Facebook!"

"It's not going to be huge or anything--"

"It'll be _so_ huge!" she shouted. "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

"Okay," Jason said. "So, you're coming?"

"I have to go tell everyone!"

"You don't have to tell everyone--" Jason said, but she'd already hung up.

He got a similar response from the second number, and the third.

Late in the afternoon, Jason stuffed his McSlawburger's uniform into his backpack, and told his dad he was going to work. His dad was sitting in his recliner in the living room.

"I thought you were off tonight," his dad said, looking away from the Golf Channel.

"Yeah, they changed my schedule."

"A little bit of short notice, isn't it?"

"Mona hates me. That's the assistant manager. I guess somebody must have called in sick, or quit." Jason shrugged.

"You know you're still grounded," his dad said. "You'd better not be sneaking off with your friends."

"I'm not."

"Stay out of trouble." His dad turned his attention back to the golf game.

Jason stopped by the garage, where he'd stashed his guitar so his parents wouldn't see him leaving with it, then rode his bike across town to Buddy McSlawburger's. He changed into his uniform and stood at the drive-through, letting a sophomore named Lizzy Mueller take a long break. Jason wasn't scheduled tonight, but Lizzy had been more than happy to let Jason work part of her shift for her.

Jason took and filled the drive-through orders until a familiar voice came over the headset: "One cheeseburger, hold the slaw, one Slawchicken Combo, hold the slaw, and an extra-large fry, hold the chili-cheese. One Kiddo McSlawburger Meal...hold the slaw."

"Pull around to the window," Jason said with a grin.

His dad pulled up, and looked both surprised and pleased to see Jason actually at work.

"Hiya, Dad," Jason said. "I thought you hated the burgers here."

"Only when they glop all that disgusting slaw on them," his dad replied. "How's work tonight?"

"Pretty busy." Jason handed over the greasy paper bag of food. "Don't forget to stop for heartburn medicine."

His dad laughed. "How late are you working?"

"Till closing."

A car horn beeped somewhere in the drive-through line.

"Okay, Jayce. Have a good night."

Jason waved as his dad pulled away.

As soon as there was a break in the drive-through customers, Jason found Lizzy reading a bright tabloid at one table in the dining room. _CLAUDIA LAFAYETTE: Who is She REALLY Dating Now?_ asked the headline.

"Your turn," he said.

"Aw, you sure you don't want to work all night?" Lizzy asked.

"I'd love to, but I'm busy." Jason took off his tall, floppy hat and rubbed his sweaty scalp underneath. "Thanks, Lizzy!"

"You can work for me anytime, eh?" Lizzy said with a smile. She walked behind the counter, and Jason went to the bathroom. He changed back into his jeans and black T-shirt, shoved his uniform in his backpack, then went outside and unchained his bike from the rack.

He hurried to Mitch's neighborhood.

Chapter Seventeen

Jason was running late, but not by much. He was glad his dad had actually come to check on him, or he would have been stuck at the drive-through until nine or ten, when his parents usually went to bed.

Mitch's mom's car was gone from the driveway. The garage door was closed, but the front door stood wide open. Jason opened the glass storm door and walked inside.

"Doorbell!" Jason announced as he stepped into the house. "Where are you, Mitch?"

"It's _Mick_. Back here in the living room."

Jason was surprised to walk into the small living room and find Mitch's silvery keyboards and computer set up near the stairs to the second floor. Portions of Dred's drum kit had been moved inside, too. Mitch was wiring in amplifiers while Tadd taped microphones to the walls.

"Jayce!" Tadd said, a nickname that annoyed Jason. "Welcome to the soundstage, baby!"

"Hi, Tadd." Jason looked at Mitch. "Is Erin here?"

"She'll be here, man," Mitch said. "It's Dred we have to worry about."

"Dred?"

"Yeah, you call her," Mitch said. "She says she doesn't want to come. I'm moving her drums in here, anyway."

"Why are we in the living room?"

"Better atmosphere," Tadd said. "Ambient lighting, more windows...it looks like a real house."

"It is a real house," Jason said.

"I think it's going to really symbolize breaking out of the boring routine of suburban life and really going wild," Tadd said. "It's a perfect environment for that visual message. I mean, look at the tchotchke shelf. The perfect representation of the dull and mundane."

"When did you become Steven Spielberg?" Jason asked.

"Spielberg?" Tadd snorted. "The true art of film died with Federico Fellini."

"Are you calling Dred or not?" Mitch asked Jason.

"Why doesn't she want to come?" Jason took out his phone.

"She'll have to explain it to you. I sure don't understand."

Jason dialed Dred's number.

"Yeah," Dred answered.

"How's it going?" Jason asked.

"Did Mitch put you up to calling me?" she asked.

"Oh, no. I'm just wondering when you're coming. Everyone's supposed to be here by nine, so we should be ready to play by then."

"I'm not coming," Dred said.

"You're not?"

"Like Mitch didn't already tell you."

"Why wouldn't you come?" Jason asked. "That crummy video Mitch's neighbor shot is already super-popular. There's a bunch of people who want to hear more of our music. This is our chance."

"It's not our music," Dred said.

"What do you mean?"

"You were too busy playing to notice," Dred said. "It didn't sound like our normal music at all. They aren't coming to hear us, Jason. They're coming to hear those creepy instruments."

"Who cares? They want to see our band."

"I care. There's something supernatural about those things."

"Yeah, I told you, I got them from fairies," Jason said. "And everybody loves them."

"Don't you know any stories about fairies?" Dred asked.

"Um...Peter Pan?"

"I mean real stories," Dred said. "I've been reading about them all night. You can't trust them. They're dangerous and tricky, according to all the old stories. If that's where the instruments came from--and after Thursday, I kind of believe you--then we could be in a lot of danger."

Her words reminded him of Grizlemor's warning. Jason shook his head to clear the thought.

"It's just one show, Dred," Jason said. "Just a small party. You can come for one night. Just play your regular drums, if you don't want to use the one I gave you. But we really need you."

"I'm busy."

"With what?"

"I'm _packing_. I'm moving to St. Paul in a few days. Already have a roommate and everything."

"Really?"

"Did you think I was kidding about moving away?" Dred asked.

"Then just play this one show with us," Jason said. "Please? I've got so many people coming. It's going to be humiliating if the band's not here. Please, Dred? As a favor?"

Dred was quiet for a minute, then she sighed.

"Just this one time," Dred said. "And I'm playing my own drums, not that haunted one."

"Great! Thanks!"

"Don't let Mitch touch my drum kit."

"Right..." Jason watched Mitch carry one of Dred's toms into the room and set it into place. "So when will you get here?"

"Give me half an hour. I can't believe I'm doing this." Dred hung up.

The doorbell rang, and Mitch told Jason to get it.

Three girls at the front door shrieked when they saw him. Jason recognized one as Wendy, the first girl who'd given Jason her number the previous night.

"Hi," Jason said, opening the storm door. "The party doesn't start for like an hour..."

"Then why are all these people here?" Wendy asked.

"What people?"

Wendy pointed, and Jason leaned out to look. Cars were parking all along Mitch's street, with excited kids climbing out of them. A gang of ten or twelve freshman were walking up the street, arriving on foot. It might have been thirty people in all.

"Oh, wow," Jason said. "Come on in."

He led the three girls into the living room, and they shrieked again when they saw Mitch.

"We have guests coming," Jason said. "A ton of people are here already."

"How many did you invite?" Mitch asked.

"Maybe ten. But I told them to bring friends. And it looks like they all brought three or four."

"What?" Mitch stood up behind his keyboard. "That's too many. We only need fifteen or twenty."

"Hi!" Wendy and her friends approached Mitch. "You're Mitch, right?"

" _Mick_."

"Mick!" the three girls exclaimed.

"Can we get a pic with you?" Wendy asked.

"I guess." Mitch looked confused.

The girls gathered in around him, putting their arms around them, then took pictures with their phones, acting excited, as if they'd met an actual rock star.

People started flooding in through the front door. They swarmed Mitch and Jason, demanding to hear music.

"Wait, wait," Mitch said. "Everybody, we're still getting set up here."

The crowd grumbled.

"We came to hear the band!" one guy shouted.

"Just wait!" Mitch said.

"Come on, play!" a girl yelled, and the crowd voiced their agreement with her.

"Half the band isn't even here yet!" Mitch said. He was looking agitated at the swelling crowd that filled his house.

"Play something!" another guy yelled.

"Jason," Mitch said, "Can you give them a guitar solo or something?"

"Do it!" Wendy yelled. She was grasping Mitch's hand tight, while Mitch tried to pull away.

"Okay, whatever." Jason opened his guitar case, and he jumped when a number of people cheered and clapped. It seemed ridiculous that they could be reacting so strongly to a band nobody had heard of even two days earlier. Especially when the band was just a group of kids from their own town. It was unreal, and a little scary.

Jason sat down on the couch, and girls pushed their way in all around him, sitting beside him, behind him on the couch back, and all around his feet. They stared at him expectantly.

"So, here's something I like to warm up with," Jason said.

"Yeah, warm up!" one girl shouted.

"Warm up!" another added.

"Hurry!"

"You have to give me a little space," Jason said, but nobody backed up. He drew his pick across all six strings, filling the air with sound, and the whole crowd seemed to sigh and relax.

He played "Learning to Fly" by Tom Petty, one of the first songs he'd learned on guitar. The people around him cheered at a volume that made Jason's ears ring.

"Sing!" a girl yelled from the back of the crowd.

"I don't really sing," Jason said. "Our singer's on the way here."

"Sing anyway!" a guy shouted.

"Um, I'll try..." Jason sang the first line haltingly, but then the words starting pouring out of his mouth with no effort. The guitar vibrations seemed to strengthen his singing voice, making it sound almost decent. The crowd joined in and sang along with him, and the girls around him leaned in closer, as if they were going to gang up and smother him. Tadd was circling around, getting footage of Jason and the crowd.

The guitar grew warm in his hands, and the air grew thick and hot, like there wasn't enough oxygen for all the people packed into the room. Still, he kept singing with no trouble.

Then Erin walked into the room. Unfortunately, she was with her boyfriend Zach.

Jason stopped playing and stood up, struggling to find some fresh air to breathe.

"There's our singer!" Jason said. "So she'll be singing from now on. This is the end of the part where I sing."

The crowd turned and gasped, then closed in around Erin. The guys seemed particularly interested in getting close to her.

"Sing!" somebody yelled.

"Yeah, sing a song for us!"

"You're so pretty!"

"You really are!"

"I love you!"

Zach gaped at all the dopey-eyed fanboys congregated around his girlfriend. Jason took more than a little pleasure in his discomfort.

Erin approached Mitch. Zach followed, trying to elbow guys out of his way while maintaining his photo-perfect smile.

"This is a huge crowd!" Erin said to Mitch, speaking loudly over the chattering, excited mob. "Where did they all come from?"

Mitch pointed to Jason. "He invited them."

"Very impressive, Jason!" Erin called, while Jason tried to ease his way past adoring fans to reach the other band members.

"I only called a few people."

"What about all the people outside?" Erin asked. "Where are they going to listen?"

"There's _more_ outside?" Mitch looked horrified.

"Like a hundred people," Erin said.

"My mom's going to kill me." Mitch looked like he wanted to bang his head against something.

"We should open the windows and turn on the ceiling fans," Jason said. "It's going to get really hot in here."

The crowd cheered at his words, which he hardly expected. Guests hurried to open up the windows, as if Jason had given an order and they were obedient servants. The breeze from outside cooled things down a little. People were already crowded outside the windows, and they applauded when then windows opened.

"This is crazy," Erin said.

"Did all these people really come to see you?" Zach said. "Maybe we should get out of here. This is weird."

"Hey, hands off!" Dred shouted. She'd entered the room, and she used both her drumsticks to beat back the reaching hands of admiring fans. "Where did all these people come from, Mitch?"

" _Mick._ This is our fan base! Like 'em?"

"I don't know." Dred whacked a hand from her sleeve with the end of a drumstick. She pushed forward until she was standing in front of her drum kit. "Who moved my drums?"

"We were running out of time."

"And who's this guy?" She jabbed a drumstick at Tadd, who was following her with the camera. He barely dodged it.

"Tadd's shooting the video," Jason said.

"I know you said you didn't want this, but I brought it out just in case." Mitch handed the little fairy drum to Dred, who scowled at it for a second, then put it aside on the tchotchke shelf, among porcelain cats and glass angels.

"Don't need it," Dred said. Then she crossed her arms and stared at a freshman girl who sat on the stool behind the drum kit, gazing in admiration at Mitch. "Hey, shove off, creampuff!"

The girl jumped, looked at Dred and the sticks in her hands, and scurried off, though she couldn't go far in the dense crowd.

"Hey, everybody?" Mitch said, waving his arms. "If you could just back up a step or two, we can get warmed up here."

"Come on, make room for the band!" Tadd said, waving his camera. "And me! Lots of room for me!"

"Hey, what's the band called, anyway?" a girl asked Mitch.

"Yeah, what's it called? What's it called?" more girls asked, grabbing at Mitch's hand and arm.

"We're the Assorted Zebras," Mitch said.

"That's a great name!"

"Awesome name!"

"The Assorted Zebras! I love it so much!" the first girl said, leaning close to Mitch and gazing at his chin.

"Well, we call it that because the zebra can't be tamed," Mitch said. "You can't ride a zebra, or make it pull a plow, or anything. The zebra is the Mick Jagger of the equine world. If you look into the history of sub-Saharan Africa, you'll find that the wildness of the zebra as compared to the horse was actually a major economic setback for thousands of years--"

"Just play already!" a guy shouted.

The crowd closed in tighter around the band.

Mitch played a few notes on the keyboard, and the crowd quieted a bit. Jason strummed his guitar, and Erin took out her harmonica and warmed it up. Jason didn't need to touch his golden tuning pegs--the instruments tuned to each other automatically, and an electric resonance crackled through the room.

"Okay, everybody, thanks for coming out!" Erin shouted. "We are the Assorted Zebras."

The crowd applauded.

"I guess we'll start with 'Cinderella Night,'" Erin said. "That's the one from the video you all saw."

The crowd cheered like it was an old favorite.

Dred tapped out a four-count, and then the rest of the band jumped in. As before, the sound was powerful with the three magic instruments working together. Jason felt alternating chills and blasts of heat rushing up his spine. His hands became very loose and relaxed, and the guitar strings almost seemed to bend up to meet his fingertips and his pick, as if the guitar were eager to make music.

The crowd thrashed to the song, screaming along with Erin's lyrics. It sounded like they'd all memorized the words.

The music worked its magic on Jason, too, so that soon he thought of nothing, but lost himself in the playing.

At the end of the song, the crowd applauded and cheered and stomped. The people gathered at the windows pounded their hands against the screens and window frames.

"Go easy on my house!" Mitch shouted. Then he pointed at a group of senior guys across the room, who were opening brown bottles. "Hey, no beer! I'm serious!"

The guys toasted Mitch as though he'd greeted them.

"Okay, here's a song I wrote for my boyfriend Zach here." Erin touched Zach's shoulder, and he gave the crowd an annoyed half-smile.

Erin sang, and the crowd went wild. They were dancing everywhere: on the coffee table, the stairs, up against the walls, knocking down the framed pictures. Mitch shook his head, but he kept playing. He slowly closed his eyes, and it looked like he was getting lost in the music like Jason.

Jason smiled and closed his eyes, too, letting the song direct his hands and fingers. Playing the guitar was effortless. He somehow never missed a beat, never got a chord wrong, but it felt like all he was doing was listening and letting the music flow through him.

Erin moved on to "Remember," which had everybody crying and holding each other by the final verse.

"Okay, sorry, let's pick things up a little," Erin said, wiping tears from her face. She played the opening for "Roller Coaster" on her harmonica. It was a much faster song and at least sounded upbeat, unless you listened too closely to the lyrics about being thrown around by your emotions.

Jason and Mitch played along, but there was no drumbeat. Jason looked back at Dred, and she was swaying as if hypnotized by the music, her eyes closing.

"Dred!" he said in a loud stage whisper. "Dred, wake up!"

"Huh?" Dred's eyes fluttered open, but they had a blank, empty look. She gazed around the room, then saw the drumsticks in her hand. "Oh! Sorry." She started tapping the rhythm.

A pair of uniformed police officers elbowed their way into the crowd. One of them pointed to the kids drinking beer, and both the cops started in that direction. Jason looked at Mitch, then Erin, but they were both deep into the music, their eyes closed.

The drumbeat stopped--then resumed, but stronger and deeper than before. Jason looked back.

Dred had placed the little fairy drum in her lap and started hitting it with her fingertips. It grew larger as she played, and the sound became more thunderous.

It swelled into a full-size snare drum, inscribed everywhere with fairy runes, with some kind of animal hide stretched taut across the top.

Jason looked back at the two cops, but they'd both joined in the dancing, their eyes closed, drawn into the music like everyone else. Jason smiled.

Dred stopped playing long enough to lift the original snare drum from her kit and toss it aside like a piece of garbage. She replaced it with the fairy drum. She resumed playing, and the drum kit slowly changed. As with Mitch's keyboard set-up, the fairy instrument seemed to infect the other instruments. The two toms slowly shifted form until they resembled the fairy drum, wooden with runes. The cymbal and hi-hat turned to gold. Finally, the big bass drum shifted its appearance, too.

On the front of the bass drum, a hieroglyphic image of zebras appeared. The zebras were animated, and they ran faster as Dred accelerated the tempo. Words appeared above the moving images like twisting smoke: THE ASSORTED ZEBRAS.

The crowd cheered at the special effects. Jason felt his guitar grow hot. With all four instruments playing together, a kind of magical haze seemed to fall over the room, charging the air with energy. The dancing audience synced up with each other so that they appeared almost choreographed.

Jason felt the crowd's growing energy course through him like fire.

Erin lowered her harmonica and sang new lyrics he'd never heard before. His fingers played a tune that matched it perfectly.

_Let tonight last forever_

_Capture my sound and song_

_Share it with your world_

_Pass the song along..._

As if Erin's words were a spell, everybody took out their phones and began recording the show.

_There is no pain_

_We'll always stay young_

_Forget your past_

_And the days to come..._

Erin's new song was like a lullaby for the mind. The words and music filled Jason with a deep, warm bliss, blanking out his brain.

Erin reached the end of her verses and starting playing harmonica again. Dred's drumming grew faster and faster--bass, toms, cymbals, snare, all somehow ringing out at once. Her eyes seemed to glow with a kind of mania as her hands and drumsticks flew everywhere. Sweat soaked the kerchief tied to her head and drenched all of her clothes.

Jason, Erin, and Mitch gave up trying to follow her. They surrendered, letting Dred tear off into a wild, loud, crashing drum solo.

The floor rumbled under their feet. Each time Dred hit the cymbal, a window shattered, or a porcelain cat exploded with a sound like a gunshot.

The house shook as Dred's tempo accelerated to an inhuman speed. Deep cracks spread up the walls. Puffs of plaster rained down from the ceiling--but she didn't stop playing, nobody stopped dancing, and the rest of the band was just as enthralled as the audience.

The house shuddered like it was caught in an earthquake. The stairway railing splintered and broke into pieces. Light fixtures and lamps blew out, and the ceiling fan swung wildly. The plaster ceiling cracked and fell in big chunks.

As Dred hit her crescendo, the entire house bucked and heaved, seeming to lift up from the ground--and then with a final crashing sound, the interior walls came tumbling down, exposing the wooden frame of the house and all the pipes and wiring.

Dred threw her sticks at her snare drum, where they bounced off and whirled away through the air.

There was a long beat of silence.

Then the entire crowd erupted, cheering and screaming their heads off, clapping and stomping and banging their fists on everything in sight. It was deafening.

It lasted several minutes. When the crowd finally died down, Erin said, "Thanks for coming everyone! We're the Assorted Zebras. Good night!"

Mitch and Dred stood up and joined Jason and Erin in a bow, and the applause reignited.

"Did you get all that?" Mitch asked Tadd.

"Oh, yeah," Tadd said quietly, shaking his head. "We got it all."

"Come on, let's mix the video on my desktop. I want this uploaded tonight!" Mitch led the way upstairs, past confused-looking kids who crowded the steps.

Dred sat down, leaned against the wall, and closed her eyes in exhaustion.

Jason and Erin looked at each while little bits of the house continued to drop around them.

"Uh...do you think Mitch noticed what happened to his house?" Erin asked.

"I'm pretty sure he'll pick up on it eventually," Jason said.

"That was completely wild!" Zach grabbed Erin and gave her a long kiss. "I didn't know you could really sing."

"I told you," Erin said. "You don't listen."

"Let's get out of this place before it falls on our heads," Zach said. "We should all get going, for safety."

Dred groaned.

"Do you need some water, Dred?" Jason asked.

Dred raised a finger without opening her eyes. Jason took it as a "yes."

"It actually might be dangerous here," Erin said, looking at the exposed ribs of the house, the deteriorating ceiling. "Maybe we should go."

The crowd was dispersing. Clumps of quiet, exhausted, confused-looking kids wandered outside, not talking very much. The two cops were among them, their eyes drooping as if they would keel over asleep any second. Jason remembered the kids who'd been brought down to Faerie for the night so the fairies could drain their energy with music.

"Wait a second." Jason hurried into the kitchen, which looked like it had been struck by a tornado. The cabinets sagged forward from the walls with their doors hanging open. The dishes inside had crashed all over the counter and floor. Two large cracks, each more than an inch wide, ran all the way across the floor, breaking it into three uneven levels.

Jason stepped carefully to the counter. He found a plastic cup, shook fragments of coffee mug out of it, and filled it with cool water.

By the time he returned to the living room and handed the water to Dred, Zach and Erin were stepping out the front door. The rest of the guests were leaving, too, with dazed, zombie-like looks on their faces.

"Hey, wait, Erin." Jason ran after her. "Why don't you stay? We can look at Tadd's video."

"I'm really just worried about this house collapsing," Erin pointed to the sagging, broken ceiling overhead.

"We have to meet Gustav and Muppet Boy at the coffee shop, like, thirty minutes ago," Zach said.

"Just stay here," Jason said.

"Um..." Erin looked at the broken ceiling and walls again, then at her boyfriend.

"Let's go." Zach jingled his keychain as he walked out the door.

Erin backed out the door, still looking at Jason. "You'll let me know when it's done, right? Send the link to my phone?"

"Yep," Jason said.

"Thanks." Erin looked past him and waved. "Bye, Dred!"

Dred, still sitting against the wall, raised her empty cup and shook it. Jason walked over to get her a refill, but he kept his eyes on Erin.

"Bye, Jason." She gave him a tired smile. Her blonde and green and blue hair was dark with sweat, plastered against her head. "That was a great show, wasn't it?"

"A great show," Jason agreed, and he tried to smile as he watched her leave.

Jason watched the last stragglers stumble their way across Mitch's front lawn and off into the night. The cars drove past, each one bouncing as it hit a huge chasm that spread across the front yard and out into the street. It ended in a spiderweb crack of asphalt in the center of the street. Jason shook his head at the destruction.

Up and down the streets, neighbors had come out onto the porches and driveway, gaping at Mitch's house.

Jason ran inside and went upstairs, careful to avoid the splintered handrail, and walked into Mitch's room.

Mitch and Tadd were hunkered over Mitch's desktop, whispering excitedly to each other as they cut and rearranged the video file. Snips and snarls of music thumped over the speakers as they mixed the sound from the different microphones.

Two Claudia Lafayette posters hung over the bed. One showed her with sea-green eyes and a matching dress, soaking wet on a rock in the ocean, the green dress clinging to her legs to suggest a mermaid's tale. In another poster, she had violet eyes and a leather jacket, and leaned against a black motorcycle with an ornate violet painted on the engine.

"She must have a closet full of contact lenses," Jason joked, pointing at the posters. Neither Mitch nor Tadd acknowledged he'd spoken.

The doorbell rang.

"What's that?" Mitch said.

"Oh, yeah," Jason told him. "All your neighbors are probably coming over to see what happened."

Mitch opened the door, walked down the now-crooked hallway to the top of the steps, and screamed.

Jason and Tadd ran out after him.

"What's wrong?" Jason asked.

"Look at my house!" Mitch shouted. He pointed at the uneven steps, the shattered handrail, the broken floor and furniture and walls. "What happened?"

The doorbell rang again.

"You were here," Jason said. "It was the music."

"Yeah, man," Tadd said. "We just watched that happen again on the video."

"Yeah, but this is real." Mitch closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with his hands. "Wow."

"You didn't notice before?" Jason asked.

"I don't know," Mitch said. "It just didn't seem like it was actually happening."

The ceiling fan pulled loose from its housing and crashed into the coffee table.

"Oh, I wish I'd been shooting that," Tadd said.

"My mom is going to kill me," Mitch said. "Then she's going to hire a necromancer to raise me from the dead so she can kill me again."

"Just tell her it was a freak earthquake," Tadd said.

The doorbell rang several times, insistently.

"Great. Now I just need a whole construction crew to rebuild the house in the next couple of hours." Mitch shook his head. "You guys better get out of here."

"I'll help clean up," Jason said.

"I don't think 'cleaning up' is really going to touch the problem here," Mitch said. "Just go. I don't want the neighbors telling my mom I had people over. She'll go mental."

"She's not supposed to be home for a couple of hours, though, right?" Jason asked.

"Sure. If the neighbors haven't called her yet. How did I not realize this was happening?"

"The music," Jason said. "It plays with your mind."

"Seriously, go on," Mitch said. The doorbell rang yet again. "Try not to let my neighbors see you leave."

"You sure?" Jason asked.

"Yes! Go!"

"All right, man, we's out." Tadd held up a hand for a high-five, but Mitch was not in a high-fiving mood.

Jason packed up his guitar and walked out the back door with Tadd. They circled around to the front of the house. Jason had to get his bike from the garage, and he saw several of Mitch's neighbors on the front porch. An old man in a bathrobe was punching the doorbell again and again.

"When did Dred leave?" Jason whispered. Her van was gone.

"Probably when everyone else did." Tadd pointed towards his car, a rusty sedan. "Want a ride?"

"Thanks," Jason said. Tadd opened the trunk, and Jason loaded the bike inside. They drove past several outraged-looking neighbors, who approached the car and tried to wave them down, but Tadd ignored them and drove on.

He could barely keep his eyes open on the drive home.

Chapter Eighteen

It was dark over the town of Glastonbury, the deep, brooding clouds smothering the light of the moon and stars. From the top of the lone hill, the dark plains of Somerset stretched away into the night. The only sound was a drum circle of hippies near the base of the hill.

A roofless rock tower, three stories high, sat atop the hill, with two doorless archways facing each other so wind and people could pass right through. The floor was worn stone, the tiles cracked and aged with time. **** One of these tiles had risen up and tilted back like the lid of a trap door, revealing a squarish hole in the floor.

The elf named Hokealussiplatytorpinquarnartnuppy Melaerasmussanatolinkarrutorpicus Darnathiopockettlenocbiliotroporiqqua Bellefrost raised his head out of the floor hole and gazed out at the dark expanse beyond the archway. He looked up at the dark sky above the tower, then back at the archway behind him. So far, there was no sign of a guardian, but appearances could deceive.

He climbed out onto the floor of the roofless tower. The unicorn's pink horn and mane rose from the hole behind him, and she turned her head from one side to the other, taking in the scene with watchful, chocolate-drop eyes.

"Stay there, Buttercake," Hoke whispered. "I'll check for a guard."

Hoke walked out through one archway. A single ribbon of concrete stretched from the ruins of the tower down to the lowlands beneath it. The rest of the hill was blank, covered in grass.

Hoke shook his head as he walked a complete circle around the tower. The place had changed a great deal since the last time he was here. It looked uninhabited, maybe even unguarded, but Hoke kept his hand on his belt anyway. Pouches of combat herbs and a sharp, sheathed flint blade lay within easy reach.

He stepped back into the archway where he'd begun.

"Come along, Buttercake," he said. The unicorn emerged cautiously, swishing her pink tail, and eased toward him. "Don't forget to shut the door," Hoke added.

Buttercake snorted. She walked back and kicked the stone tile, and it moved back into place.

"Good girl," Hoke said. He scratched her mane as she joined him in the doorway. She turned her head to nuzzle his hand.

They walked out onto the concrete path and started down the hill at an easy pace.

"I don't suppose you've been to man-world, have you?" Hoke asked.

Buttercake neighed.

"And you're too young to remember the wars," Hoke said. "You wouldn't believe me, but this very place where you're clomping was once a large city of fairies. Maybe the largest."

Buttercake made a blowing sound and shook her head.

"Oh, yes," Hoke said. "Down there, those grassy terraces? Each one was a street more crowded than any thoroughfare in Sidhe City. All manner of Folk were welcome here--fairies, elves, 'chauns and gnomes, all in peace together. It was called _Ynys yr Afalon._ In time, just 'Avalon,' because everyone likes to shorten things. That was in the time of Mad Mab's grandfather, the good fairy king Gwynn ap Nudd. Many thousands of years gone," Hoke sighed. Seeing the place so empty made his heart ache. The world had once been very different, and kinder.

Buttercake stopped and sniffed the grass by the walkway.

"Smell the residual magic everywhere, don't you?" Hoke asked. He looked out over the lowlands again. "The hill used to be an island in the sea. Then a lake. 'Course, the fairies took everything after the Iron Wars, took the other layer of this hill, the whole city, Avalon--that's the Old Town Quarter in Sidhe City, now."

Buttercake gave him a questioning whinny and resumed walking. The path ran along a shallow slope of the hill, so it was a longer route than if they'd walked down one of the steep sides.

"It's hard to explain," Hoke answered. "Humans and Folk lived in peace for as long as anyone remembers. Then the humans began attacking us with iron, taking our land, so we all fled together."

Buttercake gave a sad, soft blow.

"It is unfortunate," Hoke agreed. "But humans are about as trustworthy as fairies. That's why I like the swamp, just me and you cornhorses. Nobody bothers us."

They were halfway down the hill now, slowly approaching the ring of humans beating their drums.

"We'd better get out of sight," Hoke said. He hopped on the unicorn's back, stroking her neck. Thousands of little sparkles gleamed in her pink horn, and then the elf and the unicorn turned invisible together. Buttercake stepped off the path to walk quietly in the grass, so her cloven hooves didn't ring on the concrete.

The humans in the drum circle were a mingling of males and females, a range of ages. They all had quite long hair, many of them twisted into thick braids or dreadlocks. Some of them were singing.

They reminded him, strangely, of the primitive, friendly humans from the Age of Flint, before the horrible Age of Iron. Of course, you couldn't believe anything you saw among the humans. Their world was full of illusions.

One of the drummers stood up and stretched. He had thick gray dreadlocks, a grizzled beard, tired-looking eyes. His airbrushed t-shirt read " _Ask me about_ **Glastonbury Tours**!"

Hoke touched the back of Buttercake's neck. She stopped walking and stood still.

The dreadlocked man staggered away from the group of drummers as if drunk. Once he was several paces away from them, however, he stood up straight and walked with purpose. His eyes scanned along the concrete path, up the rocky hill to the tower at the top. Hoke held his breath.

The man's eyes turned solid black. His jaw opened, revealing teeth that were suddenly long and sharp, almost too big for his mouth. Then a forked tongue uncoiled between his teeth and reached out until it was longer than his arms. The tongue swirled in the air, tasting it like a snake.

It had to be the guardian, Hoke thought. And he didn't have the hexagonal gold and black medallion to indicate he was on official business for Queen Mab. He was on unofficial business, so he couldn't reveal a thing to the guardian. The Queen clearly wanted the missing magical instruments kept quiet. That was probably why she'd hired a solitary elf like Hoke, who wouldn't be spreading the story to anyone, except maybe some giant sugarcane trees.

Hoke felt Buttercake tense beneath him, afraid. He rubbed her between the shoulders to try and calm her.

The Queen enforced the Supreme Law, or at least the part forbidding anyone from Faerie from crossing into man-world. To this end, she appointed darkfae to guard the doors between the worlds. These were fairies who'd been twisted into evil, wicked things, usually by too much exposure to black magic. Trolls, boggarts, dullahans...nasty things.

The creature currently approaching him was known as a _boggart_ , known for being unstable and very violent. Apparently, it kept itself disguised among the humans in order to keep an eye on the gate.

The boggart spun its long tongue through the air again. Then it sucked the tongue back inside, and its teeth shrunk a little, though they remained much longer and sharper than a human's.

"Who's out there, then?" the boggart asked.

Hoke and Buttercup remained still and quiet.

"The Glastonbury Door is closed," the boggart with gray dreadlocks said. "Queen's Law. No Folk out, no tallboys in." He stalked up the hill, sniffing the air with his tongue again. "Who's being naughty? Goblin? Elf? Smells like elf to me."

Hoke tapped Buttercup's right side. She turned to the right and started down the slope, away from the concrete path where the boggart was walking.

"I am the guardian of the gate, appointed by the Queensguard," the boggart hissed as he climbed. "You go back as you came, or we'll give you the iron." He drew a long dagger from inside his high leather boot.

Hoke gave Buttercake three quick taps, and the unicorn hurried down the slope.

The boggart continued up the path, past the point where Hoke and Buttercake had turned away. It stopped after a few steps and unfurled its tongue to its full length, tasting the air again.

"Oh, aren't we a clever one?" the boggart asked as he backtracked. The tips of his forked tongue brushed the grass near his feet, just where Buttercake had stepped off. The boggart followed, moving directly toward them now. He'd picked up their scent.

Hoke took a pouch from his belt and opened the drawstring. It held sneezewort leaves, dried and crushed into a powder. Unfortunately, it was even drier and older than he expected, and a small puff of dust curled out and floated up to his nostrils.

Hoke sneezed, not just once, but a dozen times in a row, each one echoing like a thunderclap inside his nose. He felt Buttercake tense up beneath him, her muscles swelling. She was about to panic.

When Hoke finally managed to stop sneezing and open his itchy, tear-filled eyes, he saw the blurry shape of the boggart charging at them, teeth extended to full length, iron dagger raised and ready to strike.

Hoke rubbed Buttercake to sooth her, and with his other hand, he readied the pouch of sneezewort.

"Ha! You're more sneezy than sneaky, then!" the boggart crowed as he approached. His tongue lashed the air all around Hoke and Buttercake. "I smell a naughty elf, and...what's this? A griffin? A dragon? Or, perhaps..."

Hoke dashed the sneezewort at the boggart. The dried powder rolled out in a big cloud, coating the entire length of the boggart's tongue.

"What's this?" the boggart managed to say, before he fell into a severe sneezing and coughing fit. He rolled his tongue back inside his mouth, but this only made things worse. The boggart fell on the ground, his gray dreadlocks flailing as he sneezed and wheezed and rolled on the ground, scratching at his nose and mouth.

"Go!" Hoke shouted, squeezing Buttercake with his knees. "Fast as you can!"

Buttercake raced downhill, picking up speed, and Hoke clung tight to her neck. They shot invisibly past the drum circle, some of whom looked up at the mysterious breeze passing by.

Before she hit the flat land below the hill, Buttercake leaped into the air. The unicorn floated in a long, slow arc and landed well out in the plains. She jumped again, and they drifted over a farmhouse and a few low stone walls before landing.

With a third leap, they put the rocky hill of Glastonbury Tor, and its boggart guardian, far behind them.

"That's a good girl," Hoke said. "I don't suppose you've got a sniff of the magic instruments yet, have you?"

Buttercake neighed.

"That's all right," Hoke said. "Let's stop and swipe a few apples from the orchard up there, and you can sniff all you like."

As Buttercake walked, she drifted slightly to the west, as if she sensed something in that direction. Perhaps the instruments were somewhere near Exeter, or Plymouth, or across the sea in Ireland. Or perhaps the Americas, in which case Hoke hadn't picked the best gate to man-world, after all.

Hoke stroked her pink mane. Wherever the instruments were, Buttercake would root them out. Unicorns were good for much more than just running and hiding, though they excelled at those, too.

Chapter Nineteen

The sunlight was bright and thick on Sunday morning, and Jason woke slowly. He stretched, and then remembered all the things he needed to be panicking about.

Fortunately, everyone had been asleep when he'd slipped into the house. He'd made it to his room and slid his guitar under the bed without incident. But the real trouble would start today.

Before he even got out of bed, Jason dialed Mitch's cell number.

"Morning," Mitch said quietly, as if he didn't want to be overheard.

"So, how bad is it?" Jason said.

"Bad. House is wrecked, Mom's biting my head off. The neighbors told her I had a party, and she can see the place is destroyed, so..."

"Sorry."

"One good thing is that it really looks like an earthquake. It's too much damage, even for a wild party. The whole house is slanted now. The neighbors are all saying earthquake, which sounds impossible around here, but..."

"Why is that a good thing?"

"For the insurance," Mitch said. "I mean, if I tell them it was Dred's drum solo that did it, they'll just think I'm crazy anyway. So my mom's called the insurance company, and maybe they'll help pay for repairs. We don't know."

"That's good!"

"Well, we don't know anything yet. But obviously, that's it for band rehearsal here. My mom won't allow it, and I think one more song could blow the house down anyway. Your parents wouldn't let us rehearse over there, would they?"

"Yeah, sure," Jason said. "I'm not even supposed to be in the band anymore. Plus, you know, I don't really want my house destroyed, either."

"Maybe Erin or Dred's parents--"

"It could wreck their houses, too. We should probably work on figuring out how to not do that."

"Yeah, we'd run out of rehearsal spaces pretty quickly." Mitch was quiet for a minute. "But, you know, we really don't need to practice anymore."

"We don't?" Jason asked.

"Yeah, because those instruments are _magic_ , man! That's our hook. That's what makes everyone go crazy for the music. Anything you play on those instruments sounds great."

"That's true..."

"So forget rehearsal. When Tadd gets this video ready, we'll put that out, we'll get gigs..."

"You're still thinking about the video?"

"Of course! That's our golden ticket. By the way, you need to go meet up with Tadd today. He wants to shoot some extra footage for the videos."

"Videos?" Jason asked. "More than one?"

"He says he's cutting a separate video for each song we played. Gives us more presence online."

"Okay. I don't know if I can get out today, though. I'm still in trouble with my parents."

"Tadd wants you to meet him at the Irvine Park Zoo," Mitch said.

"Why?"

"Extra footage, like I said. I'd go if I could, but I can't, because my mom would kill me if I said or did anything at all right now. And Dred's not even answering her phone, as usual."

"I don't want to ride all the way over to the park," Jason said. "It's hot out today."

"Erin's already there."

"I guess I should go, though," Jason said. "I mean, since you can't."

"That's the spirit. I'll tell Tadd you're on the way."

"Wait," Jason said, but Mitch had already hung up.

Jason got dressed quickly. He ran downstairs, then ran back upstairs, brushed his teeth and applied deodorant. Then he ran back downstairs.

His mom was at the kitchen table, painting some ceramic dishes while Katie watched, asking a million questions: "Why are you making that red? Isn't that too dark? Can I paint one now?"

"Hi, Mom." Jason drank a quick cup of orange juice, grimacing as it mingled with the lingering taste of toothpaste.

"You look like you're in a hurry," she said.

"Yeah...I have to go to the zoo. Just for a minute?"

"The zoo?" His mom scowled and shook her head. "You're still grounded. You can't go running around town with your little friends."

"I want to go to the zoo!" Katie said, and Jason saw his chance.

"Yeah, I'm taking Katie," he said. "That's what I meant."

"Yay!" Katie said.

"You want to take your sister to the zoo?" She blocked Katie from sticking her fingers into the tray of wet paints. "Stop it, Katie!"

"We could go now," Jason said.

"Yes, go! Katie, go to the zoo with your brother!"

"Yay!" Katie jumped to her feet. "Can we see the cats? And the monkeys?"

"You betcha." He beamed at her--saved by his little sister.

He ran upstairs and grabbed his guitar case, then ushered Katie towards the garage door. Unfortunately, his mom looked up.

"What's that guitar for?" she asked.

"For the animals!" Katie volunteered.

"Yep," Jason said. "We're going to play music for the monkeys."

"And the tigers," Katie added. "Tigers like guitar."

"Whatever." Their mom turned back to her painting.

They stepped into the garage and grabbed their bikes. He wasn't wild about Katie being around to embarrass him, but at least she'd gotten him out of the house.

"You're actually a pretty cool sister sometimes," Jason said.

"Sometimes?" Katie rolled her eyes and pedaled out into the driveway.

They rode their bikes across town, Jason keeping himself between Katie and the occasional passing car.

They reached Irvine Park and pedaled back to the zoo area. They reached the long building where the monkeys lived, and Katie insisted on stopping to look at the family of white-faced capuchins. The adults rested quietly on their perches, while two little monkeys chased each other up and down the tree at the center of the cage.

Up ahead, he could see Tadd shooting video of Erin while she walked in front of the glass wall of the bear habitat.

"There's your girlfriend!" Katie pointed at Erin, shouting loud enough to get Erin and Tadd's attention.

"She's not my girlfriend. Just be cool," Jason whispered. Katie skipped along beside him as he joined them in front of the black bears. "Hey, what's up?" he asked, louder.

"Nothing!" Tadd complained. "I wanted _bears_. You know, primal, aggressive. Look at these guys. It's like the Berenstain Bears go to the beach."

Jason looked at the black bears. All of them were either lounging in the shade under the rocky cliff at the back of the enclosure, or lounging in the pond at the middle of it. One rubbed its behind on a tree, while another lazily scratched an armpit.

"I think they're fine like that," Erin said.

"We need to stir them up," Tadd said.

"Don't bother the bears!" Erin told him.

"Yeah, they're having a good time," Jason said.

"What else can we do?" Tadd asked.

"I'm Katie!" Katie announced to Tadd.

"Sorry, yeah, this is my sister," Jason said. "Anyway, you're the director, Tadd. What do you want?"

"Walk around in front of the bears. You and Erin together. Pretend you're friends."

"We are friends!" Erin said, and Jason had to swallow back the goofy smile that briefly spread across his face.

"Whatever," Tadd said. "We need different, like, emotion-images for different songs. So act like friends this time. You'll see where I'm going with this."

"Are we making a movie?" Katie asked. "Can I be the monster?"

"There's no monster," Jason said. "You can help Tadd direct."

"What's that mean?"

"The director is the person in charge."

"I can do that!" Katie walked up to Tadd. "Point the camera at them."

"I know!" Tadd said. He pointed the camera at them.

Jason set his guitar case on a bench and joined Erin at one side of the bear habitat.

"Do we talk, or what?" Erin asked Tadd.

"Yeah, sure. Like I said, friendly."

"What do we talk about?" Jason asked.

"Doesn't matter. It'll be music playing over it. Just pretend to talk."

"Okay." Erin shrugged.

They walked slowly in front of the bears. Jason did an exaggerated pretense of talking and waving his hands around, and Erin laughed and copied him, making fake silent dialogue back. They walked past the bear pond, to the end of the enclosure.

"This is boring," Tadd said. "Let's go see what the tigers are doing."

They walked over to the glass wall of the sandstone tiger habitat. The tigers were sleeping on the rocks, looking even lazier than the bears.

"Cats are the same everywhere," Erin said.

"Okay," Tadd said. "Now act like you're in love."

"What?" Jason asked.

"I have to show you in love so we can show you broken up later," Tadd said.

"Which song is this for?" Erin asked.

"Haven't decided yet."

Erin looked at Jason. "If you don't want to, maybe Zach's awake by now, and I could call--"

"I'll do it," Jason said. "Love and tigers. Got it."

While Tadd filmed them, Erin looked up into Jason's eyes, and Jason couldn't look away from her. She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. Jason hugged her, feeling awkward and dangerously excited at the same time. She leaned her head against his chest and actually sighed a little, and this made him relax and hug her close to him.

"Jason, you look off at the exciting, ferocious tigers," Tadd said. "Like you have something else on your mind. Like there's a tiger in you that wants to get out."

"Um, okay." Jason looked at the closest tiger, sprawled on its back on a boulder with its paws in the air. The tiger opened one eye, looked Jason over, then closed its eye again, completely not interested.

"Just hold that pose for a minute..." Tadd said, backing away.

Jason could have held it for hours.

"Good enough," Tadd said. "If only we could make these animals do something."

"Maybe they'll like some music." Erin took out her harmonica.

"Try it," Tadd said. He looked at Jason. "You really got those from elves, huh?"

"Fairies," Jason said. "How did you know?"

"Mick told me about it before the party."

"You mean Mitch?" Jason asked. "And you believed him?"

"No, I thought he was a total psycho, until I saw what the instruments could do. Then magic suddenly became the logical explanation."

Erin played an upbeat song on the harmonica. The tigers opened their eyes and lifted their heads. The closest one rolled over onto its feet and perched on top of the boulder, cocking its head as it listened.

"That's actually working!" Tadd said, raising the camera toward the tigers.

"Jason, grab your guitar," Erin said, and then she resumed playing.

Jason brought out the guitar and strummed along with her.

The two tigers jumped down to the ground and approached the clear wall as if entranced. They walked as close as they could, until their faces nuzzled the glass.

Jason kicked up the tempo. One of the tigers turned and gave the other a light swat. The second tiger jumped, then pounced, but the first tiger dodged. They scrambled after each other like playful kittens, leaping onto the boulders and then knocking each other off.

"Perfect!" Tadd said. "Now put your instruments down and pretend you're fighting."

"Like with fists?" Erin asked. She punched Jason in the arm.

"No, like an argument."

Jason put his guitar aside and walked up to Erin. She ran her mouth as if she were yelling at him, and then started poking him with her finger, as if accusing him of something.

Jason moved his mouth, pretending to yell back, and pointed back at her. Erin moved in closer, poking him more, staring him in the eyes with a look of mock anger on her face. Jason tried to look even angrier, and open his mouth even wider, as if he were yelling louder.

Erin stepped on his foot and stuck out her tongue at him, and then they both started laughing.

"No laughing!" Tadd said.

"No smiling!" Katie added. "You're 'pose to be mad."

"Yes, ma'am," Erin said. She made a snarling expression and pretended to yell at Jason again, and Jason jutted out his lower teeth and narrowed his eyes while he pretended to yell back. Erin put her hands on her cheeks and pulled down the skin on her face so her eyes were completely white, then she stuck her tongue out again, and Jason and Katie both laughed.

"Forget it, that's good enough." Tadd said. "Now the break up. Erin, turn your back on him and walk toward the camera. Create some distance. Look angry. Good. Now, Jason, watch after her sadly...good enough...and slowly turn back and face the tigers. Cross your arms. Perfect..." Tadd lowered the camera and looked around. "What else can we do while we're here? The cougars?"

"Hey, Tadd," Jason said. "Why don't you go film Katie running around the playground or something?"

"A solitary child, on a swing," Tadd said. "That's deep, Jason. Good thinking." He tapped his head, then pointed at Jason.

"I want to do the slide!" Katie ran up the hill. "Show me on the slide."

"She's an improviser," Tadd said. "That's good. Yeah, childhood memories...nostalgia...loss..." He followed Katie away up the path.

Jason and Erin looked at each other.

"So..." Jason said. "I think he'll make some good videos. You?"

"He's nuts. Why did we pick him again?"

"He has a good camera," Jason said, and Erin laughed.

There was a little silence between them. Erin watched the tigers, who slowed down now, without the music to inspire them.

"It's pretty hot," Jason said.

"Yeah."

"Want to go to the cave?"

"Okay! That sounds really good right now."

They walked down toward the woodland area beyond the bear habitat and into the mouth of a wide, cool cave with deep shadows. There was standing water all over the floor, so they followed the stepping stones all the way to the back, where a narrow shaft of sunlight fell from a rocky chimney overhead.

"This might be my favorite place in the whole town," Erin said.

"Me, too. You know, the Leinenkugel brewery used to store their beer down here. Like a refrigerator."

"Yeah, everybody knows that," Erin said. "But I heard it wasn't really true."

"Maybe it's just one of those things everybody says."

"Just one of those things." Erin looked up at the light and closed her eyes. Her face looked golden.

"Erin," Jason said. He hesitated, then pushed on. "So, is Zach moving out of town. Like ever?"

"Why?"

"I don't know. He graduated. Is he just going to stick around and hang out with high school kids forever?"

Erin laughed. "He's waiting for me to graduate. Then he says we'll get a place in the Cities, or maybe even Chicago."

"Is that what you want to do?"

"I kind of want to go to Madison for college." She shrugged. "I'll figure it out. There's time."

Jason looked away for a minute, and then he worked up the nerve to say what he was thinking.

"I was thinking we could get dinner together," he said.

"Today?"

"Tonight. Or tomorrow night. Or...Over at Duncan Creek? What do you think?"

"Ooh, that's too pricey," Erin said.

"It's okay. Cashiers at Buddy McSlawburger's make the big bank. Actually, we're not even cashiers, we're 'Customer Happiness Engineers.'"

Erin laughed, then gave him a long look. "Duncan Creek? You're asking me on a date, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Or I could take you for fried cheese curds at the Fill-Inn Station, but I thought this would be nicer."

She laughed again, blushing crimson, which actually made his heart feel warmer inside his shirt.

"So, you're saying yes," Jason said.

"Jason! I have a boyfriend. I can't go on dates with other guys. What would Zach think?"

Jason couldn't imagine caring about anything in the world less than he cared about Zach's opinion.

"You've been dating him since you were a freshman," Jason said. "Nobody else ever gets a chance."

"Right, cause so many guys are lining up at my door."

"I'm trying to," he said.

She smiled again. "Jason, I can't. I don't want to be one of those girls who cheat on their boyfriends, you know?"

"Right," Jason said.

They both looked around the cave for a minute, avoiding each other's eyes. As her rejection sank in, Jason had a strange feeling, like someone had pounded his insides with a large hammer. He didn't want her to see how miserable he'd just become.

"So, I guess we should get back?" Jason asked. "They're probably done by now."

They followed the stepping stones out into sunlight, and then they joined up with Tadd and Katie. Tadd was now taking video of Katie doing a monkey-style dance in front of the capuchins. He lowered the camera when Jason and Erin approached.

"I wasn't done yet!" Katie shouted.

"Where have you two been?" Tadd asked. He raised the camera and peered at them through it. "Off in the woods together? Spill, we need it for the behind-the-scenes documentary."

"I should probably go," Erin said. "I need to get home."

"Yeah, me too," Jason said.

"Cool, cool." Tadd turned off the camera. "Think I got plenty of stuff here. Should texture up the vids."

"Thanks, Tadd," Jason said.

"Yeah, thanks," Erin added. She gave Jason a quick hug. "Bye, Jason. Bye, Tadd. Bye, Katie."

"Bye, Jason's girlfriend!" Katie sang out, looking back from the monkeys.

"Relax, Katie," Jason said. "She's definitely not my girlfriend."

Erin looked back at him, and Jason thought her eyes might have looked just a little sad. Then she walked out of sight along the path, heading for the bike racks at the front of the park.

"Come on, Katie, let's go," Jason said.

"Can we go to The Creamery?" Katie asked.

"No."

"Why not?" she pouted.

Jason thought about it. He certainly didn't need to save his money, since he wouldn't be taking Erin to dinner.

"You know, ice cream might be a good idea," he said.

"Yay!" Katie hurried up the path. Jason trudged after her.

"Yo, Jayce!" Tadd called after him. Jason turned back, and Tadd squinted one eye, made a gun with his fingers, and fired off a shot. "Nice shooting you."

"Yeah, I know," Jason said. "Everybody's shooting me today."

He followed after Katie, who was already way ahead, running through the arcing streams of water at the fountain, which was only as deep as a puddle, past other kids who were splashing each other.

He watched Erin ride out of sight, and then he ran to catch up with Katie.

Chapter Twenty

When he got home, Jason spent most of the evening in his room, listening to music on his headphones, but nothing sounded good to him. He felt stupid, and hurt, and stupid for letting himself get hurt.

Much later, close to midnight, he was awoken by a scratching sound under his bed. He leaned over, lifted the comforter, and looked underneath.

It was Grizlemor, arranging a small, straw-stuffed pillowcase and a rough burlap blanket in the space below the bed. There was also a rickety three-legged table with a wind-up alarm clock, and a lamp where a firefly orbited above tiny leaves and flowers.

"What are you doing?" Jason whispered.

"Just arranging my new place," Grizlemor replied. "What do you think? Not much of a view, but it's roomy."

"Your new...What? You can't live under my bed! And why would you want to?"

"Well, young sir, I can't live at home any more, and it's all on account of you. So, by any measure of justice, it's your job to provide suitable lodging during my displacement."

"Why can't you go home?"

"Queensguard." Grizlemor lay on one elbow on his blanket. "They're searching Goblin Row. I came home to find them ransacking my apartment pit. Had to run before they spotted me. I can only hope they didn't find my stash-hole."

"Why were they doing that?"

"Because of you!" Grizlemor snapped. "The Queensguard's mad as hornets about finding those stolen instruments. Magic leaking into the human world, and all of that. It violates the Supreme Law."

"What, the Constitution?"

"Not _human_ law. Are you dense? The Supreme Law. The great covenant among the Folk, when we left man-world after the Iron Wars."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Human and Folk--that's us, goblins and fairies and elves and such--had a terrible war long ago. Your side won. So when we left your world, the Supreme Law was established by leaders of each kind of Folk. Rule one: Draw no attention from man-world. That means keeping all magic over on our side, hidden from your kind. Of course, rule two is that Folk shall not use iron against other Folk, yet there's the Queensguard, threatening everyone with their iron swords."

"Oh. But you didn't break the law, I did."

"As if it matters!" Grizlemor's green face looked agitated. "I led a man-whelp down to Faerie. It no longer matters whether the instruments are recovered--the Queen will punish me. Perhaps she'll throw me in the Labyrinth to be torn apart by beasts." He shuddered.

"You don't have anywhere else to go?"

"Don't even try to run me off," Grizlemor said. "It's too late for me to make amends, so now I have to make sure you don't get caught. It'll be my hide tacked to the palace wall if they find you."

"I'm sorry," Jason said. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of a goblin living in his room, but Grizlemor's troubles really were Jason's fault. "Are you sure you want to stay down there?"

"I like it very much." Grizlemor fluffed the straw pillow and lay back against it, crossing his legs. He took up a small leather-bound book and a tiny pair of half-glasses that looked like they'd been swiped from a grandma doll somewhere. He wore them low on his nose. "Now, if you'll leave me to my reading..."

"Wait. I need to know how the instruments work."

"Not being a musician, I wouldn't know," Grizlemor said.

"But you know some things. You know they drain energy from kids, and you said that helps power the magic in the fairy world."

Grizlemor sighed and looked up from his book. "What do you want to know? I'll share what little bits of knowledge I have, if it'll help you avoid trouble."

"Where do the kids come from? How do they end up in Faerie?"

"Fairy rings," Grizlemor said. "Remember the ring of mushrooms within which the young people dance?"

"Yes..."

"Here in man-world, such rings grow around the edges of soft spots between the worlds. Man-whelps can be lured into them by the faintest notes of fairy music. Once inside the ring, they fall through into the Faerie."

"So they're doorways. Like the one we used."

"Not exactly." Grizlemor sighed again, as if he found it ridiculous that Jason didn't already know these things. "A soft spot with a fairy ring is like a fishing net cast by the fairies. It's meant to lure people in. Fairies can create and remove them at will, with their magic. But they can't close the major doorways between our worlds, because those are holes that were left when the Folk cut their favorite places out of this world and moved them down to the elfland."

"You mean fairy-land, right? Faerie?"

"Let's not get off on a historical tangent," Grizlemor said. "It was the elfland then, but it's fairy-land now."

"I don't get it," Jason said.

"Do you want to know about the instruments or not?" Grizlemor was looking impatient, tapping his book with a green thumb.

"Yeah, tell me about those."

"As we were saying, the fairies create and control the soft spots. Their purpose is to trap human children so they can be drained of energy. The soft spot takes them directly to one of the little music parks in Faerie. There, in my world, the ring of mushrooms acts as a barrier--the human pups can't just wander outside the dancing-circle and do as they please. Not that they often try. They notice very little but the music."

"And when they're drained, they go back where they came from?"

"Correct," Grizlemor said. "Usually. They may pop up in a fairy ring in the wrong part of man-world, but back to man-world they go, in any case."

"That doesn't seem right, trapping and draining people like that."

Grizlemor snorted. "As if you aren't doing the same with your music."

Jason didn't know what to make of that, so he asked, "Grizlemor, the music almost destroyed my friend's house. How can we stop the instruments from being destructive?"

"Don't play them." Grizlemor began leafing through his book, as if he'd lost his place.

"Other than that."

"How should I know? It takes seventy-seven years of conservatory training before the Guild certifies you as a professional musician. I've had...let me consider...zero years of such training."

"But we don't want to wreck everything each time we play."

"Then play softly, I suppose." Grizlemor shrugged. "I'd prefer you didn't play them at all. You'll only draw the fairies' attention. And they'll be quite vengeful."

"How vengeful?"

"Have you ever been pecked to death by a vulture? Or slowly eaten from the inside by slime-worms? Or ripped apart by a blunt-toothed brainbug?"

"No..."

"Well, you might be."

"Great."

"Ask yourself if fame and fortune are worth a horrible death for you and your friends," Grizlemor said. "I know it's a difficult question."

"Are the fairies really that evil?"

"Evil? You're the thief. You've brought this on yourself."

Jason thought about that.

"Now, if you don't mind, it's been a long day. I'd like a bit of pleasure reading before sleep."

"What are you reading?"

" _Gobbligan's Wake_. It's a stream of conscious meditation on the nature of goblinness. You wouldn't understand it." Grizlemor pulled the comforter down like a curtain, closing off Jason's view of him.

Jason lay back on his pillow.

"I've got a monster living under my bed," he said.

"Goblin," Grizlemor corrected. "'Monster' is an offensive term." There was a cracking sound, then something thunked into the underside of Jason's bed. Jason could feel his springs rattle at the impact.

"What are you doing?" Jason asked.

"Clipping my toenails." Another crack, another thunk that rattled the bed. "Problem?"

"No." Jason listened, his lip curling a little as the goblin's next toenail clipping buried itself like an arrow into the boxspring. And the next. And the next.

Chapter Twenty-One

Tuesday afternoon, Jason was getting ready for another exciting day at Buddy McSlawburger's when he got the call from Mitch.

"You have to check it out," Mitch said. "It looks so good. I posted the link on your Facebook wall."

"The video?" Jason asked, running to his computer. His computer was running sluggishly, so it took forever for the video to load.

Over the phone, Jason could hear the current #1 hit song in America:

_Alllllll day_

_And all night, too,_

_You dream of me_

_Yeah, you know you do..._

"Are you listening to Claudia Lafayette?" Jason asked.

"No!" The volume turned down until Jason couldn't hear the song anymore.

"You were!" Jason said. "It's that stupid 'You Love Me' song."

"It just came on the TV. It's off now."

"Right."

"Are you looking at the video yet or not?" Mitch snapped.

"Oh, it's starting to load."

The opening credits appeared over Jason playing "Learning to Fly":

starring the Assorted Zebras:

Jason Becker

Erin Kavanagh

Mitch Schneidowski

Dred Zweig

Then those words disappeared, to be replaced by the words:

DIRECTED BY

TADD GRUBER

"It's epic," Mitch said. "Tadd sliced it into a different video for each song. You have to watch the last one, though. The cops coming in and dancing instead of busting the party. Dred's drum set transforming. The house shaking down all around the crowd."

Jason skipped to the final video in the series. The recorded music entranced him again--not as powerfully as playing the instruments live, but the effect was very strong.

"It looks like we spent a million dollars on special effects," Jason said, watching the walls crack and the windows shatter behind Dred, while her drums morphed into fairy drums.

"Right?" Mitch said. "And look at the pageviews."

According to YouTube, the video had been watched over 200,000 times since it was uploaded at 6 AM. Jason glanced back at his Facebook page. Hundreds of people had "liked" the video, and it seemed like half the school had shared it on their pages. Jason had also been tagged in a number of videos uploaded from people's phones, showing the event from different angles, and those videos were getting a lot of views too.

On top of this, the Assorted Zebras page had six thousand fans, and Jason himself had hundreds of new friend requests.

"This is crazy!" Jason said.

"It was that first video, the one the kid made," Mitch said. "It's got like ten million views now. Everybody's looking for more stuff from us. A couple bars in Madison already emailed to offer us a gig."

"Are you serious?"

"But I'm waiting for more offers. I think we can do better."

"Don't get too cocky..." Jason said.

"I'm not. I'm just sitting back and letting the universe provide."

"Right. Anyway, I have to get to work. Text me if anything happens."

"You don't have to sling burgers at Bloody McSlobberbooger's anymore," Mitch said. "We're gonna be huge, man! This is just the beginning."

"When we get from the beginning to the part where we're getting paid, then I'll quit McSlobberbooger's. Until then..." Jason shoved the uniform and ridiculous hat into his backpack. "It's slawburgers, hold the slaw, a thousand times a day."

"I don't think you're seeing the big picture here."

"I don't think you're seeing the small one. What's happening with your house? Are they going to fix it?"

"Claims adjuster was here yesterday--that's the person the insurance sends to investigate, I guess. He seemed mostly confused about how we managed to have a tiny earthquake in Chippewa."

"Are they going to help?"

"We still don't know. He took a bunch of pictures and said he'd be in touch. But I'm still in deep trouble for having that party. So worth it, though. Have you seen the videos yet?"

"I'm looking at them." Jason clicked on the video for "Remember." It alternated between Erin singing and Katie wandering alone on the playground, as if Katie was the childhood version of Erin. It was actually a powerfully sad video. "Tadd doesn't suck," Jason said.

"He might be a nut roll, but he knows what he's doing," Mitch said. "Of course, the magic music doesn't hurt."

"Have you told Erin about all this?"

"Yeah, she's all over her Facebook page answering comments about it."

"Oh."

"Maybe you should call her, though," Mitch said.

"I don't think so. I'm off to work. Keep me updated." Jason hung up.

The Buddy McSlawburger's was packed wall to wall with kids from school. They erupted in cheers when Jason entered, as if they'd all been waiting for him.

"Jason," Mona said, approaching him with a hard look in her eyes.

"Hey, sorry I'm late. My friend wouldn't get off the phone."

"You told me there was a CD. I've been searching the internet for two days."

"Oh. Um...I'm sure we'll get something together soon, okay? I'll have Mitch burn you one."

"For free?" She embraced him in a tight, uncomfortably long hug. "Thank you, Jason."

"Sure." He patted her back. "Long line, huh? I'd better get to work." He managed to disentangle from her embrace, even though she tried to cling to his arms, then his hands, as he pulled away. He attempted to make his way through the crowd to the EMPLOYEES ONLY door.

"You don't have to do that!" Mona said. "Why don't you sit at this table and sign autographs?"

"You want me to sign autographs?" Jason asked, with a tremendous amount of disbelief.

The crowd applauded.

She led Jason to the first dining booth, telling people "Move aside, move aside." The crowd tried to crush in around him.

"This is crazy," Jason said. "All we did was put up a video."

"A great video!" shouted a girl he didn't recognize.

"I've watched it a hundred times!" somebody else yelled.

"I've watched it a thousand!"

In a daze, Jason sat at the table. People had him autograph napkins, except for a few who'd brought either notebooks or printed images of him.

"Where did you get this?" Jason asked a teen girl who handed him a picture of himself.

"It's a screenshot from you playing 'First Road Out of Here.' I _loooooooove_ that song!" she said. "You're the best guitarist ever. I couldn't believe it when Kelsey told me you worked at McSlobberbooger's!"

"Who's Kelsey!"

"I am!" shrieked another girl. "He said my name!"

"So, do you guys go to McDonell?" he asked. He didn't recognize them, but maybe they attended the Catholic high school instead of the public one.

"Yeah, but I'll transfer to Chi-High if you want me to!" the girl called Kelsey said.

"Uh, that's okay," Jason said. "Thanks, though."

Jason spent most of his shift signing autographs and talking to fans, some of whom had come from the town of Eau Claire just to see him. He was in a daze. He knew the music was good, and it was literally magical, but this was too much. It scared him. The first video, the one taken by Mitch's kid neighbor, had only been circulating for a week or so. The music wasn't just entrancing, it was addictive, and everybody who heard it seemed to lose their minds a little.

Mitch was absolutely right, he realized. This was only the beginning of what promised to be a very wild ride.

Over the next couple of days, he continued going to work, but Mona treated him like a celebrity. So did the kids who came from increasingly far away--Sheboygan, Oshkosh, even college students driving up from Madison. All of them asked when they were doing a concert or where to buy their music. Lots of them took pictures of themselves with Jason. One group showed up with full-print posters of the band, which a girl who worked in a copy shop had made. Jason signed it next to his own face.

Mitch called periodically with updates. They were getting bigger and bigger offers for larger and larger venues. Apparently, even nightclub and theater owners weren't immune to the power of the Assorted Zebras.

On Thursday, when Jason was again at work and not working, Mitch called again.

"Forget all those little clubs. We've been invited to play at the Spoon and Cherry Festival on Saturday night," Mitch said. His voice was awed.

"Are you serious?" Jason whispered. The festival showcased eight independent bands from around the region, at the Statue Garden in Minneapolis. "That's like ten thousand people!"

"They had an opening, so the coordinator dropped us in," Mitch said. "Apparently a bunch of people had emailed her our video--"

"But how is that possible? Auditions for that were four months ago."

"Well, she may have bumped some local Minneapolis band to make room for us. But anyway, not bad for a first gig!"

"Saturday night? Do we have time to get ready?"

"We don't _need_ to get ready. We just need to get up on that stage and play. The instruments will do it all for us. I'll announce it on our Facebook page. And our YouTube profile."

"I'll announce it, too." Jason stood up and looked over the crowd. "Hey, everybody: Assorted Zebras are playing the Spoon and Cherry Festival this Saturday! Tell your friends!"

The entire place burst into cheers.

"I think they'll come," Jason said into the phone.

"They can't, it's already sold out," Mitch said. "We just want everyone to know we played the festival, so we'll get more shows out of this. Gotta go, I have to call Dred and Erin!" Mitch hung up.

Jason's heart dropped a little at Erin's name. They hadn't spoken since she rejected him. This was going to be awkward.

A balding fiftyish man in a tie elbowed his way into the restaurant. Mr. Humphley, the franchise owner. Jason stood up automatically when he entered.

"What in the blue heck is going on here?" Mr. Humphley demanded. "Where is Mona?"

"I'm right here!" She waved from the cash register.

"Where's your cashier?"

"I'm over here, sir," Jason said.

"What are you doing sitting at a table, kid?"

"Signing autographs, sir."

"Autographs?" Mr. Humphley glared around at the teenagers packing the restaurant.

"Isn't it great?" Mona asked. "He draws a huge crowd every night. He's the guitarist for the hottest band on Earth!"

"I don't care if he's Elvis Aaron Presley! If he's on my payroll, he works. He doesn't sit around on his fanny!" Mr. Humphley approached Jason, glaring. "Got that, kid? Back to work!"

"Most of these customers just came to see me," Jason said, and twenty teenagers shouted their agreement.

"This is a family restaurant!" Mr. Humphley said. "It's not a disco for teenyboppers!"

"What's a disco for teenyboppers?" Jason asked.

"Get back to work or get out of here!"

"Fine." Jason grabbed the slawburger hat from his table and threw it into the crowd, who screamed and tore it to shreds. "I'm so sick of saying 'hold the slaw.' Nobody likes the slaw. It tastes like shredded garbage. Why don't you just take the slaw off the menu?"

"You're fired!" Mr. Humphley barked. "Don't show your face in here again!"

Jason pulled off the red Buddy McSlawburger's apron, tossed it on the floor, and walked away through the cheering crowd, most of whom turned to follow him out.

"Isn't he amazing?" Mona sighed at the counter.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jason left work on his bicycle, waving off the countless people who offered to give him rides. He was in no hurry to get home. A number of cars followed him until he turned away from the road, cutting across parking lots, then back yards, and then across a cow pasture and into the woods, to escape the horde of fans following him.

Finally alone in the woods, he rode slowly alongside a small creek. He was worried about how he would act around Erin now, and whether she would hate him or, worse, feel pity for him, like he was some clueless little kid.

On top of that, he had to worry about the goblin that wouldn't leave his room--Jason was constantly picking up after Grizlemor, who was a confirmed slob. And the goblin was a reminder that somewhere, there were fairies that would be very angry when they found Jason. He couldn't believe that the little people with the butterfly wings were really so dangerous, but Grizlemor seemed terrified of them.

He emerged from the woods a few streets from his house, free of his fans now. He stopped in his driveway and took out his phone.

"Yeah?" Mitch answered.

"I have to tell my parents about the concert," Jason said. "They won't want me to go."

"Why not? It's a major festival."

"I'm not even supposed to be in the band!"

"You can change their minds," Mitch said.

"How?"

"The music, man! Once they hear the music, they'll see how good it is, and then they'll let you go."

"Don't bet on it," Jason said.

"Just let the music convince them. You know it will."

Jason thought about it. "I don't really feel comfortable using fairy magic on my parents."

"Why not? You're using it on everyone else."

"But not to trick them..."

"Tricking them into coming to our shows. Giving us their money."

"Yeah, but that's different." Jason rubbed his head, staring at his front door. Inside, the lights were still on, even Katie's. Everyone was still awake. "They pay to hear good music, and they hear good music. Right?"

"Right. And when your parents hear it, they'll let you do whatever you want. 'Cause it's that good."

Jason thought of the hordes of fans who kept showing up at work. He couldn't imagine his parents acting that way.

"Erin did it," Mitch said.

"She did?"

"Even worked on her jerk of a stepdad, and you know how he is. You've got the magic, so use it. I don't want you backing out of the show over this."

"I won't," Jason said.

"Then do what you have to." Mitch hung up.

Jason sighed, parked his bike in the garage, and walked into the living room.

"Home a little early, aren't you, son?" his dad asked. He was in his recliner reading a Sports Illustrated, while Jason's mom watched _Crazy for Ceramics!_ on the Home and Garden channel.

"I got fired," Jason said, sitting down on the couch.

"What?" Jason's dad dropped the _Sports Illustrated_. "How did that happen?"

"Did you mouth off to somebody?" his mom asked.

"It's hard to explain," Jason said.

"Were you late?" his dad asked. "Or did you goof up your work?"

"It's not that. We made this music video--"

"When you were supposed to be working?" Jason's mother gasped.

"Goofing off while on the clock." His dad shook his head, looking disappointed. "What did I tell you about all that music nonsense?"

"No, we didn't make the video at work," Jason said. "We made it a while ago. But Mitch put it on YouTube, and it's really popular now."

"Videos of yourself? Why in the world would you want to do that?" his mother asked. "Don't you know the internet is forever?"

"Um...so anyway, Mitch made this video...well, actually Tadd made the video...no, this girl from Mitch's neighborhood actually made the _first_ video--"

"That doesn't matter," his dad said. "We want to know why you got fired."

"That's why I'm telling you about the video."

"Oh, goodness!" his mom said. "It's not... _inappropriate_ , is it? You don't use swear words or anything?"

"No, we just play music. But it's really popular. It's been watched by a million people or more."

"They must not have enough to do with their time," his mom said. "These kids."

"It's...they like the music, Mom!" Jason said. "That's why so many people watch it. And they share it on Facebook and Twitter and that other one...MySpace...so everybody who sees it shares it with more and more people. And so many people just really like the music."

"Stop trying to change the subject," his dad said. "We want to know about your job."

"So a bunch of fans starting coming from all over to McSlob...McSlawburger's. And the assistant manager told me to just sit down and sign autographs. Then the owner came in and fired me for sitting there and signing autographs."

"Aha!" his dad said. "Goofing off on the clock."

"But I did what the assistant manager told me to do."

"Why would anyone want your autograph?" his mom asked.

"Because, I told you, the video's a crazy big hit. In fact...we got invited to play at The Spoon and Cherry Festival. The Minneapolis Sculpture Garden."

"Absolutely not!" his dad said.

"But Mitch already told them yes," Jason said. "I can't let the band down."

"You're grounded, you get fired from your job, and now you want to run around with those kids from that ridiculous band?" his dad shouted.

"Like that Erin Kavanagh girl," his mom said. "I don't trust her, with all that wild-colored hair."

"It's not ridiculous!" Jason said. "And Erin's not a bad person. Dad, they're paying us a thousand dollars each. For one night!"

"A thousand..." His dad's eyes went wide, but then he blinked and shook his head. "The money doesn't matter. It's the principle of the thing. We forbade you to go hanging around those bad kids, and you ignored us. And you got yourself fired."

"But I got a better job," Jason said. "If I worked at McSlob...the hamburger place all summer, every day, I wouldn't make a thousand dollars." Jason didn't mention that all the money might have to go to Mitch's mom to repair her house. There would be plenty of shows ahead, the way things were going.

"I don't see why they'd pay so much money," his dad said.

"Because everyone wants to see us! We're pretty good." Jason hesitated, then plunged forward. "You should watch some of the videos. Both of you."

"I don't need to see you making an idiot of yourself," his dad said.

"We worked pretty hard on the music, Dad," Jason said. "We've been practicing for a couple of months. I'd really like you to see it, even if it doesn't change your mind. Please?"

"Oh, George, maybe we should watch it," Jason's mom said. "If he's worked so hard on it."

His dad grunted. "Make it quick."

"I'll show you." Jason walked to the little computer table by the half-flight of steps that led up into the kitchen. He pulled up one of the videos--"First Road Out of Here"--and played it. He cranked up the speakers.

"That's too loud!" his dad said. "Turn it...down..."

Jason's parents gazed at the screen, mesmerized by the sound of the music flowing out.

"See?" Jason said. "People like it."

His parents slowly stood and walked toward the computer, completely entranced.

"It's so sad," his mother said.

"It's beautiful! Touching!" Jason's father choked up, clutching his heart. Jason wasn't sure his dad had ever used words like that before.

"Yeah, so you see why I need to go play this concert, right?" Jason said. "Everyone wants to see us. Mom? Dad? Are you listening?"

His parents were drifting closer and closer to the computer speakers, paying him no attention. It was creepy.

Jason paused the video. "So, can I go and play Saturday night?"

"What happened to the music?" Jason's dad asked.

"I want to hear more!" his mom said. "Right now, Jason!"

"Then tell me I can go play at the show."

"Of course you can go and play." Jason's father dabbed at his eyes with his handkerchief. "The world shouldn't have to go without music like that."

"Okay...great!" Jason said. "Thanks!"

"Would you push 'Play'?" his mom snapped.

"Sorry!" Jason unpaused the video. "There you go."

He watched his parents swaying to the music. His dad put an arm around his mom, and they swayed slowly together.

"So...I'll go tell Mitch, then," Jason said.

They didn't reply. They didn't seem to hear him.

Jason shook his head and went upstairs.

"What's that music?" Katie asked as Jason passed her door. She was stretched out on her bed, reading _Darkwing Duck_ comic books.

"It's nothing," Jason said.

"Nah-uh. That's your music! Everybody's talking about it."

"Oh, _everybody_ is, huh?"

"Everybody on the innernet!"

"Wow. Okay, see you later, Katie." Jason walked into his room and closed the door. A new, funky smell had infused his room since Grizlemor moved in.

"I'm hungry!" the goblin said from under his bed.

Jason knelt and lifted the comforter. Grizlemor lay on his bed, looking up from his book. He was surrounded by dirty spoons and empty cans: Beanee Weenies, Spaghetti-o's, chili.

"Why don't you clean up a little?" Jason asked. He gathered the cans into the trash bag he'd left under his bed for exactly that purpose.

"Take the trash bag with you when you go get me more food," Grizlemor said. "It's getting full."

"With no help from you." Jason gathered up the sticky, dirty spoons. "Don't you have anywhere to live yet?"

"Sure do. Right here." Grizlemor patted the carpet. "Nice place, too. Smells a bit like humans, but I'm taking care of that."

"You really are," Jason said. He stood up.

"Don't forget my food!" Grizlemor said.

"What do you want now?"

"Saltine crackers, topped with grape jelly, cheese, and cod liver oil."

"Are you kidding?" Jason asked.

"Goblins never kid about food."

Jason sighed. He took the dirty spoons downstairs and put them in the dishwasher. He glanced at his parents, who were both hunched over the computer screen, watching another video, their eyes glazed. He didn't bother trying to hide the bizarre crackers as he put them together for the goblin. His parents didn't even seem to know he was there. They were lost in the music.

In his room, he slid the plate under the bed. He heard Grizlemor gobble them down, and he was glad he didn't have to watch--the goblin's eating habits were the most disgusting he'd ever seen.

Jason took out his phone and looked at Erin's number, which had a snapshot of her smiling face beside it. He wanted to call her, but what could he say? She'd made her feelings perfectly clear.

He threw the phone aside and took out his guitar. His hands played how he felt, the lower three strings, filling the room with sadness.

Katie wandered in, drawn by the music. She sat at the foot of his bed and listened, and she gradually began to cry. Not sobbing or screaming like she usually did, but just slowly leaking tears from her eyes while she watched Jason play.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The instrument factory sang and chimed with some of the most beautiful sounds Aoide had ever heard. They bounced and echoed pleasantly from the brick walls, where the bricks were the assorted colors of a bag of gumdrops. Sunlight poured in from the skylights and the huge arched windows, all of which were open to catch the buttery breeze from the bakery next door.

Aoide and Rhodia followed Ladon, a male fairy with long green hair, a golden nose ring, and a serpent tattoo snaking up his neck. He had dragonfly-style wings.

"We've got everything you need," Ladon said. "Visit the luthiers up here--" He pointed to where several fairies carved the pieces of a violin, working with slow, painstaking care. One of them had a violin string stretched taut between tall, glowing geodes. She sang a single long note to vibrate the string while it soaked in the pulsing light of the magic stones. Much of the work took place behind a tapestry, where brightly colored smoke rolled out while the enchanters cast their secret spells.

Neus and Skezg, the faun and the ogre, dragged behind them, watching young apprentice fairies cast spells over raw boughs and limbs, recently cut from trees and still damp.

"There's one very small issue," Aoide said. "Our last instruments were stolen, so we don't exactly have the money saved up to buy new ones."

"How much do you have?"

"Not much," Aoide said.

"It's not a big deal," Rhodia added, giving Ladon her most cheerful smile. "We've been playing in the park near Goblin Row for a hundred years, so we get the musicians' stipend from the Queen. Plus, we get a lot of gigs."

"You want to buy four instruments on credit?" Ladon stopped walking and whirled around to face them. He wasn't grinning anymore. "All four?"

"That's okay, right?" Aoide smiled widely at him. "We're Guild musicians and everything."

"If you weren't Guild musicians, the security spells would not have allowed you through the door," Ladon said. "Guild musician or not, you can't buy anything without money. You'll have to talk to our finance department."

"Oh, certainly," Aoide said. "I'm sure everything will be fine."

Ladon almost glared at her. "This way," he said.

He led them away from the factory floor, up a spiraling staircase to a row of arched wooden doors on the second floor, each one of them a different color. A balcony ran in front of the doors, overlooking the fairy artisans below.

Ladon knocked on the red door, then opened it.

"Mr. Wimwinkle," Ladon said. "We have some poor musicians trying to get instruments with no money."

"That's not a very nice way to put it," Rhodia said, and Aoide elbowed her to be quiet.

"Best of luck," Ladon said icily, as he walked away.

"Good fortune to you, too!" Aoide called after him. Then she turned and looked into the office.

One wall of the office was full of pigeonholes. A gnome sat at the big desk, surrounded by stacks of scrolls, which he was sorting into the pigeonholes. From there, pigeons took the scrolls and flew up a chimney to deliver them around town.

The gnome wore a tall, cone-shaped red hat and a blue jacket. A nameplate on his desk read DWOBKIN WIMWINKLE. He stroked his long, white beard as he looked at Aoide, Rhodia, and Neus, as well as the big, orange-haired ogre squatting behind them.

"Well, I doubt this will take long," the gnome said. "Come in, ladies. And gentleman. The ogre will have to stay out there, of course, there's no room."

Skezg grunted and hunkered low to the floor.

Aoide, Rhodia and Neus entered and took the chairs facing the gnome. Wimwinkle arched his fingers in front of his lips and looked them over.

"What kind of loan do you need?" he asked.

"We need to replace our four instruments," Aoide said. "My lute, Rhodia's harp, Neus' pipes and Skezg's drum."

The gnome whistled.

"That's a lot of silver," he said. "What do you have for collateral?"

"Not much," Aoide said. "The Queensguard is holding our savings for, um, security while they search for our lost instruments. But we play at parties and clubs all over the city, and during the day we have the park by Goblin Row. So we have income."

"And the Queen pays you the usual stipend for musicians who entrance the man-whelps?" the gnome asked.

"Every month," Aoide said.

"But this month, you'll receive nothing," the gnome said.

"Unless we have our instruments," Neus said, blinking his goaty eyes.

"And would you please explain to me what happened to your last instruments?" Wimwinkle asked.

"They were stolen!" Rhodia said. "Can you imagine? What a horrible thing for someone to do!"

"How were they stolen?"

"From the park," Aoide said.

"You saw it happen?"

"No, we were having a drink at the cafe," Rhodia said. "Right across the street."

"And you left your instruments at the park?"

"We do it all the time!" Rhodia said. She put her face in her hands, and her pink wings wiggled. "Nobody ever bothers them."

"But this time, somebody stole them," the gnome said. "So you want us to extend you a loan to buy instruments, knowing that you carelessly leave instruments out in a park near Goblin Row, where anyone who comes along might steal them?"

"We won't do it anymore! We promise," Aoide said, and Rhodia and Neus nodded.

The gnome sighed and shook his head. "Given all you've told me, we couldn't possibly extend a loan for the full amount of the instruments. You'll need to come up with at least half, which I calculate to be..." He moved several beads on an abacus. "Five hundred silvers."

"Where are we going to get five hundred silver coins?" Rhodia gasped.

"If we don't have instruments, then we can't earn the money to pay for them," Aoide said.

"It's a real conundrum," the gnome agreed. "Happily, it is not _my_ conundrum to solve. Have a lucky day."

"We're done?" Aoide asked. "Just like that?"

"Unless you have five hundred silvers, we have nothing left to discuss," the gnome said.

"But...can't we just rent them?" Rhodia asked. "We have somebody searching for ours. We only need these for a little while."

"Instruments cannot be rented!" the gnome gave Rhodia a stern look. "You should know that is against the rules of the Musicians' Guild. Each instrument adapts to its user. They cannot simply be passed from one player to another."

"But some instruments can adapt to new players," Aoide said.

"Take it up with the Guild," the gnome said, waving them away. "Again I say, have a lucky day."

"Have a lucky day," Aoide mumbled. She stood up, her eyes stinging. She missed her lute terribly. She missed playing music. "Come on, everyone."

They shambled out of the factory and down Queen's Boulevard towards Goblin Row. Nobody spoke.

When they reached their usual park, Rhodia gasped. Another band had already moved in, fairies with flutes and bells and a banjo. A group of young humans danced inside the ring of mushrooms, their energy pouring out to recharge the magic of Faerie.

"That's our spot!" Rhodia said.

"We can't claim it if we don't have our gear," Neus said. "If we stop playing there, another band can take it. That's the law."

"Let's get a drink," Skezg grumbled.

They took a table at their usual cafe. A golden-haired fairy fluttered to their table and took their orders: rose nectar for Aoide, honeysuckle dew for Rhodia, thistle tea for Neus. Skezg ordered a cup of poison ivy broth.

"What are we going to do?" Rhodia asked. "We can't play, we lost our spot. That elf and his unicorn better come back with our instruments, or we're sunk."

"If I ever find that thief..." Neus made a fist. "Pop! Right in the nose holes."

"I have to pay rent soon," Aoide asked. "I don't know how I can make it."

"Guess what? They're hiring here!" the golden-haired fairy chirped as she delivered their four drinks in bell-shaped lilies. "All you need is a great attitude and a quick pair of wings! Oh, and the ability to work your tail off all day for practically nothing! Let me know if you want refills!" She fluttered away again.

Aoide put her elbow on the table and rested her hand in her chin.

"We don't get to play no more," Skezg grumbled.

"That's right. Everything depends on that crazy old elf," Aoide said.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Then Aoide stood and walked inside the cafe building, up to the front counter, where the golden-haired fairy waved cheerfully.

"Can I have one of those job applications?" Aoide asked.

"Certainly!" the fairy chirped. She handed over a scroll.

"Mind if I borrow your quill-and-ink?" Aoide asked.

"As long as you don't carry it away! I hate when people steal my pen. It makes me violent!" the golden-haired fairy giggled.

"Thanks." Aoide picked up the long plume of the feather quill pen, dipped it in the little oyster-shell inkpot, and began to fill in the blank lines on the scroll.

Chapter Twenty-Four

On Saturday, Jason dressed in a black t-shirt and his most comfortable jeans and shoes. He spent an unusually long time checking his hair in the mirror. The largest crowd for which he'd ever performed was a crowd of one hundred, and that had been as an extra in the high school production of _The Crucible._ He couldn't imagine facing ten thousand people. It made him almost as nervous as the thought of seeing Erin again.

Grizlemor appeared next to him. The goblin removed his hat and smoothed his knotty, stringy hair, then spread his mouth open and inspected his dark yellow teeth and lumpy green gums in the mirror.

"What are you doing?" Jason asked.

"Getting ready for the show."

"What show?"

"Do you really think I'm going to let the four of you run off with those instruments unsupervised?" Grizlemor asked. "Somebody has to watch out for wicked fairies."

"I'm sure we'll be fine," Jason said.

"I'm sure you won't. If the fairies figure out what happened, they'll kill me. Then I'll haunt you."

"Very funny."

"It's not funny." Grizlemor sniffed his own armpit. "Clearly, you've never faced a goblin ghost. We can get pretty ugly after we die. Go grab me a snack, would you? Whipped pickle juice and Spam on rye, please."

Jason looked the goblin over. His clothes and hat were filthy, and he gave off a smell like rotten sausages.

"Are you sure you don't want to bathe before you go?" Jason asked. "Or wash your clothes?" He couldn't recall the goblin doing either thing in the week he'd been living under Jason's bed.

"Nope. I'm ready." The goblin disappeared in a green puff. A row of green puffs appeared, leading away to Jason's bed. Grizlemor reappeared on the edge of the bed, next to Jason's guitar case. "I don't see any snacks yet." He held out an empty hand.

"Do you really have to come? How will I explain you to everyone else?"

"Same way you explained the magic instruments," Grizlemor said. "They seem happy with those, don't they? Tell them I come with the instruments."

"Like a roadie?"

"What's that?"

"Someone who helps load and unload the gear."

"Whatever you want to tell them." Grizlemor took off his shoes and sniffed between his green toes.

"Change your mind about the bath?"

"I think I'm good for another five or ten years," the goblin said. "Food, please."

Jason shook his head and went downstairs. He walked into the kitchen, feeling annoyed, but then he froze when he saw who was at the kitchen table.

Both his parents were there, having mugs of coffee. A third mug cooled on the table, untouched. Behind it sat a withered old woman with hair like a mat of gray cobwebs. Her eyes were very dark, her mouth a narrow gash. She wore a black silk scarf around her neck, and where it drooped, Jason could see that her neck was swaddled in discolored bandages under the scarf. She sat in a wheelchair that looked antique, made of dark, polished wood and brass wheels.

Jason gaped. He could guess who she was.

"Jason," his mother said. "This is Mrs. Dullahan."

Jason gaped a little more.

"Where are your manners?" Jason's mom asked.

"Oh! Uh, hi, Mrs. Dullahan." Jason's heart sank like a stone in a cold pond. She'd figured it out, he thought, and she was going to take back their instruments before they ever got to play a show.

"She has a few things to ask you," his dad said.

"Okay." Jason's throat knotted up. The lady was scary. The air felt unnaturally cold around her.

"You are the young man who came to my house," she said, and he recognized the harsh, scraping voice from the intercom.

"Yeah. I mean, yes. My mom told me I should help you with yard work. But you said you didn't want me to."

"It was unnecessary. Mortimer handles all my gardening and caretaking needs." Mrs. Dullahan pointed to the corner of the kitchen.

Jason jumped when he saw the tall, wraithlike man in the corner, dressed in a black suit. A black chauffeur's cap was pulled low, shading his eyes so they couldn't be seen. His face was gaunt, almost skeletal. Mortimer didn't move at all, just stood with his arms folded in front of him. Jason had no idea how he'd missed the man standing there. It was almost like Mortimer had been concealed by shadows, except it was a bright Saturday afternoon and the kitchen was flooded with sunlight, so there weren't any shadows.

"But he gave you the muffin basket, at least," Jason's mom said to Mrs. Dullahan.

"What muffin basket?" Mrs. Dullahan asked.

"Jason! You didn't give her the muffin basket?"

"She told me to go away!" Jason said.

"Nothing was said about a muffin basket," Mrs. Dullahan hissed. "I would have liked a muffin basket."

"What did you do with the muffin basket?" Jason's mom snapped.

"Uh...my friends and I ate it," Jason said.

"Jason!" His dad shook his head.

"We'll get you another muffin basket, Mrs. Dullahan," Jason's mom said.

"Thank you. Though I would prefer an assortment of cured meats and cheeses," Mrs. Dullahan replied. "And crackers."

"All right...I'm sure we can do something," Jason's mom said.

"The day of your uninvited visit to my home," Mrs. Dullahan said to Jason, "Did you depart when instructed to do so? Or did you linger and snoop?"

"I didn't snoop," Jason said. "I left. I went to band practice with my friends."

"Taking the muffin basket with you," Jason's mom added.

"Yes! Sorry! I didn't know the muffin basket was going to be such a huge deal."

"It's not the muffin basket itself, it's the principle of the muffin basket," Jason's mom said.

"Someone has been snooping around my house," Mrs. Dullahan said. "I returned from my trip to find some of my lawn decorations vandalized."

Jason thought of the little wooden squirrel he'd broken when he landed in her back yard. He kept quiet.

"Did you have a nice trip?" Jason's mom asked. "Where did you go?"

"It was a hunting trip." Mrs. Dullahan's dark eyes hadn't moved from Jason.

"Ooh, yah? What were you hunting?" Jason's dad asked her.

"Prey." Mrs. Dullahan's eyes continued boring into Jason, and he felt like squirming. "Did you, or did you not, enter my yard at any time?"

"No," Jason said, after a brief hesitation. Could she tell he was lying?

"Are you certain?" Her mouth pulled down at the corners as she stared unblinking at Jason.

"Yes...Yes, ma'am."

"You did not enter my property? Did not climb my wall?"

"No." Jason's voice came out quiet and squeaky.

"Do you know of anyone who has?" Mrs. Dullahan asked. "Have other juveniles discussed such a thing? Perhaps bragging, as juveniles do?"

Jason shook his head. "I guess I can...listen and see if I hear anything." His gaze shifted from Mrs. Dullahan to Mortimer. The tall, gaunt man hadn't moved a bit. He was like a mannequin, or a Halloween decoration.

"I hope that you will." Mrs. Dullahan's voice was icy now. She seemed to be angry at him. Maybe she really did know he was lying. He felt transparent, exposed, and vulnerable.

"The crime went beyond vandalism," she said. "Four musical instruments were stolen. A lute. A harp. Pan pipes. A drum."

Jason felt very cold inside. His guts were knotting up.

"Have you heard of anyone with such instruments?" Mrs. Dullahan asked.

"No..."

"I understand you are a music-maker," she said.

"A little bit."

"Jason plays the guitar," his mom said. "We're very proud."

That was a little weird, too, but his parents' attitude about the band had changed drastically since the music cast its spell on them.

"I don't really play it that much," Jason said.

"May I see this guitar?" Mrs. Dullahan asked.

"Oh, sure!" his dad said. "Jason, why don't you go grab it and play a little ditty for Mrs. Dullahan here?"

"Um...I'm sure she doesn't want to hear me play."

"I would be delighted," Mrs. Dullahan said, and her words sounded cold and frosty. She stared at Jason with her coal-black eyes. She didn't sound like someone who could ever be delighted by anything.

"Go on, don't be shy," Jason's mom said.

Jason sulked as he walked upstairs. Katie's door cracked open as he passed it.

"Is Mrs. Dullahan still here?" Katie whispered.

"Yes."

Katie closed her door in a hurry.

Jason walked into his room, to see Grizlemor standing on his bed, arms crossed, impatiently tapping one rotten leather shoe.

"Where are my snacks?" the goblin asked.

"Sh!" Jason closed the door. "Mrs. Dullahan is here," he whispered.

"A dullahan?" The goblin's mouth dropped open, his eyes bugged out, and his pointy green ears jutted out at either side of his head. He bounced on the bed, then jumped to the windowsill. "There's a dullahan in your house? I have to get out of here!"

"Quiet! It's just _Mrs._ Dullahan. The old lady from across town."

"She's the guardian of the gate, is what she is," Grizlemor whispered. "I'm cooked if the dullahan finds me out here, wandering man-world. She's supposed to keep Folk like me in Faerie!"

"Why do you call her _the_ dullahan?"

"That's what she is!"

"She's looking for the instruments," Jason said.

"Oh, no, even the dullahan is searching? You can't let her see them!"

"I wasn't planning to." Jason brought his old Fender guitar out of the closet. "Wish me luck."

"May you find luck-clovers in your garden," Grizlemor whispered.

"Okay," Jason said.

He walked downstairs to the kitchen, where everyone watched him expectantly.

"Is this your only guitar?" Mrs. Dullahan asked, scrutinizing it with narrow eyes.

"Yep," Jason said.

"Go ahead, play us something," his dad said.

"He's very good," his mom said. "We're so proud of how hard he's worked."

Jason sat on a stool at the breakfast counter. He plucked out "Learning to Fly," but it was slow and hesitant. He'd grown accustomed to letting the magic guitar do all the work for him, and he'd never really been that great of a guitarist in the first place.

His parents frowned, looking confused.

"That will be enough," Mrs. Dullahan said before he was halfway through the song.

"He's much better than that," Jason's dad said. "Play a different song. Why don't you play one of the songs from that video--"

"I don't think she wants to hear anymore, Dad," Jason said.

"I've clearly heard everything you're going to tell me," Mrs. Dullahan said. "Mortimer."

The tall, gaunt man finally moved, though he didn't say a word, and he barely made a sound. He grasped the handles of Mrs. Dullahan's wheelchair.

"Good afternoon to you, Mr. and Mrs. Becker," she said, and Jason's parents stood up.

"It was so nice having you stop by, Mrs. Dullahan," his mother said. "Feel free to join us ladies at the Lutheran Church anytime."

"I'm not Lutheran," she growled. Mortimer turned her around and wheeled her to the front door. Jason's dad held the door while he pushed her out.

"That's okay!" Jason's mom called after her.

Jason noticed the time on the microwave. "The show! I have to get going."

"I hope you play better than you just did for Mrs. Dullahan," his dad said.

"Are you sure you don't want us to come, Jason?" his mom asked.

"Oh, no, I've got enough to stress about. Thanks, though." Jason hurried upstairs. He slid his guitar case out from under his bed. It held the fairy guitar.

"What happened with the dullahan?" Grizlemor asked.

"She's leaving."

A horn honked, and Jason looked out his window. Dred's rusty van was in his driveway, waiting for him. Mortimer had just wheeled Mrs. Dullahan past it, towards a windowless black van parked on the street.

"Wow, that's bad timing," Jason said. He opened the window. "Just wait!"

Mortimer stopped, and Mrs. Dullahan turned back to look. Dred laid on the horn again.

"We're running late for the show!" Mitch yelled out the passenger window.

Jason grunted in frustration. He closed the window as Dred blew the horn a third time. Why couldn't they just wait until Mrs. Dullahan left?

"We can't let the dullahan see me!" Grizlemor said.

"I know, I know." Jason found his school backpack in his closet and dumped out the notebooks and pencils. He held it open toward the goblin. "Get in here."

"Excuse me?"

Dred's horn blew yet again.

"Shut up!" Jason said. "Come on, we have to go."

Grizlemor sighed. He disappeared in a puff and reappeared inside the bag. Jason zipped it up, slung it over his shoulder, and picked up his guitar case again.

He dashed downstairs, yelled a goodbye to his parents, and then he was out the front door.

"Don't bang me around so much," Grizlemor complained inside the backpack.

"Sh!" Jason said.

"Come on, come on!" Mitch yelled from the rusty van.

Over at Mrs. Dullahan's van, Mortimer had opened the side door, and a wheelchair lift slowly unfolded to the ground. Mrs. Dullahan was watching Jason and his friends closely as Mortimer wheeled her onto the hydraulic platform.

"What are you waiting for?" Mitch slapped the side of the van. "Let's go, let's go."

Jason didn't want to open the rear door of the van and give Mrs. Dullahan a look at all the instruments inside. He opened the side door and saw Erin sitting in one of the two back seats. She smiled at him, and for a moment, he completely forgot what he was doing.

"Jason, did you miss the part where we're running really, really late?" Dred asked.

Jason shook his head. He glanced at Mrs. Dullahan again, who rose up as the platform lifted. Then he climbed in and slid his guitar case between the back seats, and dropped the backpack on the floor. He finally remembered to smile back at Erin.

"Close the door!" Dred said. She threw it in reverse and backed down his driveway while he hurried to slam the door.

"Who's that lady?" Erin asked.

"Mrs. Dullahan."

"What's she doing at your house?" Dred asked.

"Having coffee with my mom."

They pulled into the street. When Dred put it in drive, the side door of the black van closed. The black van immediately started following them. Mortimer must have been in the driver's seat, though Jason couldn't tell for sure, because the windshield was tinted black. Jason was pretty sure that wasn't legal.

"Isn't this exciting?" Erin asked him. "Our first show, Jason!"

"Yeah, it's great," Jason said. He couldn't stop looking out the rear window at the noiseless black van that followed them like a shadow.

"I'm so nervous. Aren't you nervous?" Erin asked.

"Yeah, very nervous," Jason said. He looked at her and tried to smile through his fear. He'd expected Erin to be cold after she'd rejected him, or treat him like a freak. If anything, she was acting friendlier than usual to him. Maybe she felt sorry for him.

"Why is Mrs. Dullahan following us?" Dred asked.

"Is she going to the show?" Mitch asked.

"Didn't you tell me you snuck into the fairy world through a door in her yard?" Erin asked.

"Yeah, I did," Jason said. "She's the guardian of the gate. She's kind of supernatural, or something."

"A monster!" Grizlemor appeared in a puff of smoke next to Erin's feet.

"A monster!" Erin screamed, pulling away from him.

"No, not me," Grizlemor said. "The dullahan. I'm a goblin, not a monster."

"What's the difference?" Erin asked.

"Hmph." Grizlemor sat on the floor.

"Uh, Dred," Mitch said. "There's a little green man in your van."

"He's with me," Jason said. "He's okay."

"Why do you call her 'the' dullahan?" Erin asked.

"That's what she is. One of the most dangerous sort of darkfae," Grizlemor said.

"Dangerous sort of what?" Mitch asked.

"Some fairies are drawn to evil magic," Grizlemor said. "Fairies being power-hungry nutters. The more they use the evil magic, the more it twists them into monsters."

The black van stayed close behind them as they drove away from Jason's neighborhood. Now Erin was watching out the back window, too.

"Is this something we should worry about?" Erin asked.

"If she follows us all the way to Minneapolis, yes," Jason said.

"So, what's with the goblin?" Mitch asked Jason.

"He comes with the instruments."

"A 'roadie,'" Grizlemor said, winking at Jason. "That's the correct term, right?"

"Oh, cool, a built-in roadie," Mitch said. "Man, these instruments just get better and better."

Grizlemor rolled his eyes.

"So Mrs. Dullahan is an evil fairy," Dred said. "Awesome. What does she want with us?"

"She's trying to figure out who used the fairy doors she's supposed to guard," Grizlemor said. "Because _somebody_ trampled around breaking things, not being cautious like me." He glared at Jason.

"So she's after Jason?" Erin looked alarmed. Weirdly, that made Jason feel better. For somebody who didn't want to date him, she really seemed worried about him.

"Mrs. Dullahan doesn't know it's me for sure," Jason said. "She only suspected me because my mom made me offer to do yard work for her. I don't think she actually saw me when I went in and out of the door."

"She didn't," Grizlemor said. "She was away on the Hunt. That's why you were able to get in and out of Faerie without her stopping you."

"What Hunt?" Jason asked.

"It's a darkfae entertainment. You don't want to know more." Grizlemor shuddered. "That's one thing about the Queen hiring these monsters. Darkfae are dangerous, but they aren't the most diligent employees."

"I think she's turning away," Erin said.

Everybody looked back. The black van glided off down a narrow wooded lane, towards Mrs. Dullahan's house.

"She's going home," Jason sighed.

"So we're good?" Dred asked.

"I think so," Jason said.

Dred stepped on the accelerator. As they left town, Dred played some Prince over the stereo, and their mood began to lift.

Chapter Twenty-Five

A security guard stopped them at the parking area near the Sculpture Garden. The area was packed with vendor booths selling food and drinks, plus a row of Port-A-Poopers. People were everywhere, most of them Jason's age or slightly older.

"This lot's closed," the security guard told them, leaning in at Mitch's window.

"We're supposed to play tonight. We're the Assorted Zebras," Mitch said, pointing toward the stage that had been built for the event. Another band was playing there now, a dozen people using a wide assortment of bells and whistles. According to the banner hanging behind them, that was the band's name, Bells and Whistles.

The security guard stepped away and spoke quietly into his walkie-talkie. After a minute, a second man arrived. He had long black hair and a turtleneck shirt, headphones with a big antenna and a built-in microphone, plus a clipboard thick with papers.

"Yes, I am Franco," he said, in some kind of European accent that wasn't quite French and wasn't quite Spanish. "I am ze stage manageur. You are ze Angry Zebras, yes?"

"The Assorted Zebras," Mitch corrected.

"Ah...you should be ze Angry Zebras. More passion! More fire!" Franco made a fist.

"We'll think about it," Dred said. "Can you tell me where to park?"

"I zaw your videos, no?" Franco said. "The music was, how do you say, _muy fantastique_." Franco kissed his fingertips at Mitch. "Ze use of _cinéma vérité_ technique, ze destruction of suburbia...it was quite ze statement."

"I'll tell Tadd you said that," Mitch said. "Parking?"

"Zis parking area is all full," Franco said. "You are very late. You must park in ze alley across ze street. I will send ze stagehands to help with your gear."

"That won't be necessary." Grizlemor hopped up onto the middle console. He had changed his appearance a little, making his skin less green and more of a pinkish human color, and his pointy ears had shrunk, their tips tucked under his cap. "Whatever these guys can't carry, I can."

"Your friend," Franco said. "He is a dwarf, no?"

"A dwarf!" Grizlemor shouted. "I hate dwarves! I sneak up behind them and pull their pants down at public events! Dwarf, indeed. I'll make you a dwarf!"

"He prefers the word, um, 'midget,'" Erin said.

"Midget? Is midget not ze more offensive term?"

"He's a little odd," Jason said. "We'll be right back."

Dred drove across the street and parked in the alley. The four band members took everything they could carry, Erin and Jason helping with the keyboards and drums. Grizlemor stacked the remaining black instrument cases into a wobbly tower on top of himself, so that only his dirty leather shoes could be seen under them.

They walked across to the park, where Franco was waiting with his arms crossed, tapping his feet, checking his watch, doing everything he could to let them know they were taking too long.

"Right zis way," Franco said when they caught up with him. He showed them where to leave their instruments near the stage. People were everywhere--stagehands, security, musicians, electricians. A huge stage had been built overlooking the lawn around the Spoonbridge and Cherry sculpture, which was a giant spoon holding a giant cherry in the middle of a pond. The Garden was full of giant sculptures, but that one was the most famous.

"Ze hospitality tent is down here." Franco led them to a huge shaded tent with mesh walls, nodded at the security guard as they entered. Inside, the large tent had clusters of folding chairs where the bands were all lounging, cooled by electric fans. Franco led them to an unoccupied cluster of chairs near the back.

"Help yourselves to ze craft service table," Franco said. He indicated a picnic table piled high with Doritos, Snickers, boxes of Reese's Pieces, and rolled-up sandwiches cut into circles. A plastic tub of ice was filled with Red Bulls, Cokes and Yoo-hoos.

"Wow!" Mitch said, grabbing Doritos and Reese's Pieces on the way to a chair.

"I trust zis is to your liking?" Franco asked.

"It's awesome!" Mitch leaned back in his chair, while Dred swiped a bag of ranch Doritos from him and tore it open.

"Let us know if you need anything," Franco said as he walked away. "I will alert when it is time for your set-up."

"Thanks!" Jason said.

"How's everybody doing?" Mitch asked, in the general direction of the nearest band. They ignored him, though, and kept talking among themselves.

"This is so exciting!" Erin said. She flung her arms around Jason's waist, and Jason hugged her close. He couldn't help his feelings for her, even if they weren't exactly welcome. She hugged Mitch and Dred, too.

Soon, Erin's friends Parker and Kennedy arrived, chatting happily, and bustled Erin to a chair away from the group. They pulled up their own chairs and opened bags of cosmetics they'd brought with them.

"How do you want your eyes?" Kennedy asked.

"All I can think is, put some color all around them, like an old glam-rock thing," Erin said, grinning. "Just the eyes, though. I don't want my whole face looking like that."

"You'll need tons of glitter," Parker said, setting out tubes of it on the counter.

"Hey, Dred, want your make-up done?" Erin asked.

"Yeah, we have everything here!" Kennedy waved at the bags.

"Nope," Dred said. She tied on a kerchief printed with cartoony pink skulls. She wasn't wearing any makeup. Her baggy t-shirt, shorts and sandals were a contrast to Erin's thrift-store dress with its faded psychedelic floral print.

"It'll look great, I promise!" Parker said.

"Nah, I don't want it sweating all over me," Dred said, leaning back and propping her feet on another chair. "Nobody looks at the drummer, anyway. Erin's our front man."

"Where's Zach?" Kennedy asked.

"Is he here yet?" Parker asked.

Jason sank to a chair facing Mitch and Dred. He wasn't going to get in another word with Erin, with her friends hovering around her.

"He can't make it," Erin said. "He's starring in a commercial in Chicago. Uncle Otto's Authentic German Pizza."

"That's so hot," Parker said.

"Awww!" Kennedy squealed. "I bet he'll be sad he missed all this!"

Jason tried not to listen.

"Are you ready for this, Jason?" Mitch asked.

"Doesn't really matter, does it?" Jason said. "The instruments will take care of everything."

"Mitch and I were talking about the set list," Dred said. "We think it would be good to begin and end with cover songs, just to be safe."

"Safe?" Jason asked.

"People like songs they already know," Mitch said. "We'll do a couple of those songs we used to goof around with."

"Those don't always turn out well," Jason said.

"The instruments will know what to do," Mitch told him. "They're smart like that."

"That's why the dullahan is so eager to find them," Grizlemor said. He was sitting on the grassy ground, stuffing Cheeze-Its into a rolled turkey sandwich. He took a big, crunchy bite and talked with his mouth full, spraying bits of sandwich and crackers. "The fairies invest a lot of magic into their music."

"The dullahan is after our instruments?" Mitch asked.

"Oh, of course," Grizlemor said as he chewed. "Even if she doesn't return them to the Queen, she'll want them for her own nefarious purposes."

"What Queen?" Dred asked.

"The fairy queen," Jason said. "Let's not worry about it right now. I like the idea of doing the cover songs, that'll juice up the crowd. Let's do that."

"Good, we agree. Go tell Erin." Mitch opened a Yoo-Hoo and picked up a Snickers.

"If the chatterbrains will shut up for a second," Dred whispered.

Jason looked across the room at Erin. After a minute, Kennedy and Parker left for the bathroom, giggling and chatting with each other nonstop. Jason didn't know how they could hear each other, when neither of them ever stopped talking.

He approached Erin, who was checking her dark red lips in a cosmetic mirror. With all the glittering make-up, she looked almost like a different person, some model from a magazine.

"Erin?" he said. She smiled brightly at him in the mirror.

"Hi, Jason. Want to sit down?"

He took the chair beside her and told her Mitch and Dred's ideas about their set list.

"Sounds good to me," Erin said. She turned and looked him in the eyes. "Is there something else?"

"Yeah." Jason fidgeted in his chair while he reached into his jeans pocket. He took out a square of folded notebook paper. "You know I don't really write songs, right?"

"Right..."

"But this one I've kind of been working on. I thought you might like it, or you might take a look at it, or something. It's called 'Angel Sky.'"

"You wrote a song? That's really cool." She smiled at him, holding his eyes with hers, while her hands unfolded the page.

"You don't have to read it now or anything," Jason said.

"I want to." Erin looked at the page. As she read, her smile faded, and a serious look came over her face. She looked up at him. "Jason, is this--"

"There's our girl!" Kennedy said as she and Parker returned. They took up posts on either side of Erin, as if to block Jason from getting too close to her. Their endless conversation took over, and soon Jason moved back to join the rest of the band.

"Grizlemor was saying maybe we should go easy with the instruments, if we don't want to wreck any more buildings," Jason said.

The goblin, who hadn't stopped stuffing his face, gave a thumbs-up.

"We want to blow this crowd away, though," Mitch said.

"We don't have to try so hard," Jason said. "Just play kind of lightly. Let the magic do its thing."

"Sounds good to me," Dred said. "I don't want to make any more earthquakes, with all these people around. And I'd really hate to be the person who broke the Spoonbridge and Cherry."

They heard the sound of instruments tuning on the stage, and then a huge crowd screaming.

"Who's the next act?" Jason asked.

"Programmed Chaos," Mitch said. "Some local band."

"They're great," Dred told him. "Their songs are like social and political criticism with an ironic pop overlay."

Jason shrugged. "Okay. Sounds good."

Eventually, Programmed Chaos began to play their first song, "The White House is Their House," which had gotten some attention from college radio stations across the Midwest, as well as NPR.

"Oh, Programmed Chaos!" Erin said, jumping up from her chair. Her friends followed her toward the stage.

"Their singer is so cute!" Kennedy said.

"He really is," Erin agreed. Then she stopped at the door. "Are you coming, Jason?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, let's go watch," Dred said as she stood up.

Jason caught up with Erin, while Dred and Mitch followed. The six of them left the room, leaving Grizlemor alone to wolf his way across the refreshment table. Mitch tried again to wave to the other bands, but nobody would look at them. Jason wondered if they resented how the coordinator had kicked out another band to make room for the Zebras, who hadn't even auditioned.

They stood to one side of the stage, watching the band. Erin and her two friends danced along with the music.

Jason looked out at the quiet, bored-looking audience of thousands, most of them teenagers. The show had sold out and the park was packed, but nobody seemed to be getting into the music.

Programmed Chaos, which consisted of three college-aged guys, finished their first song. They received sparse applause and scattered boos.

"Rough crowd," Mitch said.

The band went into their second song, and the whole crowd starting booing halfway through. By the third song, the crowd started chanting "Ze-bras! Ze-bras!" and stomping their feet.

"Oh no," Erin whispered. "I feel bad for them."

"I feel bad for us," Dred said. "We have to play for this audience, too."

The band hurried through another song while the crowd drowned out their music, chanting for the Assorted Zebras. The crowd pelted the band with lemonade cups, soft pretzels, and shoes.

"That's it!" the lead singer shouted into the microphone. "You want us gone, we're gone."

The crowd applauded and whistled.

Programmed Chaos hurriedly broke down their gear with the help of stagehands, then stalked off the stage, glaring at the Zebras.

"Stupid kids just want to hear you," the lead singer sneered at Erin.

"Yeah, way to ruin the gig for the rest of us. Thanks a lot," the band's DJ said. The three of them carried their equipment towards their small bus, and the lead singer went inside and slammed the door.

"Zis is an emergency!" Franco said, running up to them. "You must play now!"

"That crowd's going to eat us alive," Erin said.

"Ze show must go on!" Franco said.

"Great," Mitch said, shaking his head.

All the overhead stage lights went out. In the dimmed footlights, a couple of stagehands helped them set up. Grizlemor quietly appeared and disappeared when the stagehands weren't looking, helping to bring out the pieces of the drum kits and the keyboard arrangement.

The crowd kept chanting "Ze-bras! Ze-bras!"

Jason looked out over the huge crowd, stunned by the sight of so many people eager to hear them play. Right now, he was a shadowy outline against the city lights of Minneapolis glittering behind the stage. In a few minutes, the big spotlights would come on, and he'd be looking at a sea of faces. And they'd all be looking back at him.

"What do you think?" Erin whispered beside him, looking over his shoulder.

"We'll just do our best," Jason said. "They'll like it or hate it."

"I am totally scared right now," she whispered. Jason took her hand, and she squeezed her fingers around his for a minute. Her cheek was next to his. She was close enough to kiss, but Jason resisted the temptation.

Erin stepped back and blew a few notes on her harmonica. A slight breeze crossed the stage.

Finally, Mitch and Dred announced they were ready. The band did a quick sound check, and as usual, the instruments were perfectly in tune with each other.

"We are ready to play, yes?" Franco asked. He touched a button on his headset. "Ladies and gentlemen...you have been chanting for zem all day...ze Assorted Zebras!"

Franco dashed out of sight as the lights came up. Ten thousand audience members screamed and cheered. The wave of sound was so loud it seemed to push Jason backwards. He was overwhelmed by all the faces--but then the spotlight flicked on, and he couldn't see them anymore.

"Hello, Minneapolis!" Erin said into the mike, and she grinned from ear to ear when the crowd renewed its cheering.

Dred, Mitch and Jason started playing. Jason's guitar sounded electric now, as if it already knew what he was about to play.

Erin gazed out at the lights and the wild crowd. Then she sang the first verse of "I Love Rock and Roll" by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts.

The crowd erupted again, howling and clapping. Jason felt the guitar growing warm in his hands. The strings drew his fingers toward them like iron to a magnet. He barely had to concentrate. It was almost as if he were just an audience member, listening to the music as it happened.

Jason glanced around at Mitch and Dred. Both of them wore huge smiles, entranced by the music.

When they reached the end of the song, they stopped playing their instruments, but Erin spontaneously decided to sing the chorus one more time, a capella. It was just Erin's voice over the amplifiers, plus thousands of delirious audience members singing the words along with her.

When she finished, the crowd howled and cheered and stomped. She looked at Jason, and they shared glowing smiles.

From there, they played "Cinderella Night," since that was the first song that made them popular. Then they continued through all of Erin's songs. Jason could feel the audience turning somber, then sad, then cheerful, then ecstatic, reacting deeply to the music. His guitar grew hotter and hotter in his hands, and he found himself drifting towards the cool, damp air pouring out from Mitch's keyboards.

The audience grew crazier and more excited with every song. When they hit the end of Erin's list, she started a new song, apparently improvising the lyrics. Jason had never heard it before, but his guitar seemed to know just how to play it. It was a light, cheesy, nonsense song that didn't sound like anything Erin would write:

_Everybody wave your hands!_

_Everybody shake your pants!_

_Everybody do it, do it, do it,_

_Everybody do the sugar dance!_

_The sugar dance! Yeah, yeah..._

_The sugar dance! Yeah, yeah..._

The entire crowd danced together, suddenly synchronized as if they'd all practiced the dance together before coming to the show. It reminded Jason of that bizarre moment in any musical when suddenly everybody broke into song and choreographed dancing. He'd sometimes wondered what that would be like in real life, if you could just be at school or work and everybody stopped what they were doing to sing and dance together.

When she finished, the crowd roared so loud Jason thought he could feel the stage rumble beneath his feet. It was exhilarating. It was frightening.

The band members looked at each other, confused. Mitch covered his microphone with his hand.

"What the heck was that?" Mitch asked.

"I don't know," Erin said. "It just came to me."

"Can we just do the last song and get out of here?" Dred asked. "That crowd is freaking me out. Nobody should like us this much."

"Yeah, let's hit the finale and go," Mitch said.

Mitch played a synthesized sitar on his keyboard. Dred and Jason joined in, and then Erin sang the opening words for "Paint It Black," another song they'd toyed around with in Mitch's garage, though they'd never really played it very well. Jason thought it sounded amazing with a female vocalist, though, especially if that vocalist happened to be Erin.

For the first time, they played the song in perfect sync with each other, without a misstep. They reached the instrumental part, where Erin hummed instead of singing. Jason usually bungled this, but tonight it flowed like water, his fingers knowing exactly where to touch the strings.

Then the guitar seemed to take over, running away with him. Jason couldn't stop playing, and the sound grew faster and louder and more complex all at once. The other instruments gradually faded and stopped as the band left him to his runaway guitar solo.

The air around him thrummed with power, as if all the energy put out by the crowd was flowing right to him. The guitar was searing hot in his hands now, and the strings burned his fingertips, but he couldn't stop playing. He wondered if this was how Dred felt just before the earthquake. He was afraid it might be.

The air shimmered and rippled like heat waves from the hood of a car. He was dripping with sweat, all of his clothes soaked, his socks squishing inside his shoes. And still his guitar grew hotter.

The heat waves thickened into a scorching bubble that surrounded him, distorting the whole world. Sweat poured into his eyes and the salt stung, but all he could do was close his eyes and keep playing.

Then, after what felt like years, he reached the end of his solo. His hands dropped away from the guitar, and he stumbled backwards, on the verge of a heat stroke.

He watched the thick bubble of rippling heat float up and away from the stage, out over the crowd. It was as tall as Jason himself.

The crowd was watching, too.

Jason stared, unable to look away, horrified that something terrible was about to happen.

When it floated above the center of the crowd, the huge heat bubble ignited, lighting up the entire audience like a blinding solar flare. Plumes of fire arced out in every direction. The flames billowed down toward the crowd--all of whom stood and watched, their mouths gaping open. Fire was about to rain down on everyone, and nobody was getting out of the way.

Jason wanted to grab the microphone, warn everybody of the danger, tell them to run, but he couldn't move. He felt like he was in a dream, one of the ones where a monster was chasing you, but your feet wouldn't budge.

Then the flames turned to a cloud of red smoke.

After a moment, the entire audience exploded in cheers, applause, stomping, screaming and howling. They surged toward the band, reaching out their arms. Jason and Erin, near the front of the stage, stumbled back from the roaring outburst. Erin stumbled and caught his arm, and he somehow kept her from falling. He wasn't sure how he hadn't fallen over himself.

"Is that it?" Erin whispered.

"I think we're done," Jason said.

Erin let go of his arm and walked back to the microphone.

"Thank you, Minneapolis!" she shouted, and the crowded roared back at her. "Good night!"

The four of them got offstage as fast as they could. In Jason's case, this meant a slow stagger, and he was the last one to escape into the wings.

He immediately peeled off his black t-shirt and tried to mop up his face with it, but the shirt itself was dripping sweat. A stagehand gave him a Spoon and Cherry Festival t-shirt, and Jason wiped what felt like a gallon of sweat from his hair, face, and neck.

"Wow," Erin was saying. "Wow."

"No kidding," Mitch said.

Dred was just shaking her head, a smile burned into her usually impassive face.

The audience's howling and screeching gradually fell into a steady pattern, a single repeated word echoing again and again through the theater: "En-core! En-core! En-core!"

"Oh, we can't," Jason said. He was out of breath and close to collapsing.

"Please, you must play one more," Franco said, arriving to meet them. "The crowd, zey will tear ze entire place apart wizzout an encore! And for me. I want to hear encore, too."

"We don't have any more songs," Dred said. "Unless Erin wants to make something up again."

"We could do another cover," Mitch suggested.

"Wait," Erin said. "We do have one more song." She gave Jason a sly smile. "Will you get the lyrics from the tent for me?"

"Oh, no, wait," Jason said. "We haven't practiced that one at all. I don't even know if it's ready. Or if it's any good."

"It's good," Erin said. "I like it."

"Really?" Jason blushed. "I kind of did work out something on the guitar for it..."

"Fine, you guys lead, I'll follow, whatever," Mitch said. "Let's just give this crowd something before they riot."

"Let's go," Dred said, jogging up the steps to the darkened stage. She looked eager to play more.

When they were on the stage, Erin took his hand.

"I want you close when I sing this," Erin whispered. "You'll do some of the vocals."

"I'm not any good at singing," he said.

"Maybe that's what you thought before," she said. The spotlights lit up again so the big crowd could see them, and the Sculpture Garden filled with cheers and screams. "But look. You're a rock star now."

Jason looked out at the mass of ecstatic people, and he couldn't help smiling.

"Do you guys want a little more?" Erin asked into the microphone. They roared back their assent. "How about a new song nobody's ever heard?" They cheered again. "This one is called 'Angel Sky.' It was written by our guitarist, Jason Becker."

Erin took Jason's hand and raised it high, and the crowd went wild.

"Hey, let's hear it for our drummer, Dred Zweig, too!" Erin said, and Dred tapped out a quick rhythm, to more applause. "And the guy who put this band together, our keyboardist, Mitch Schneidowski!"

" _Mick_ ," Mitch said into his mic, but his voice was drowned under the tidal wave of screams and cheers. He looked out on the crowd, blushed crimson, and then waved. "Forget it."

"Jason, get us going," Erin said.

Jason started to play the guitar part he'd practiced for her song. It came out smoothly on the fairy guitar, not hesitant or choppy at all. He repeated the opening a few times, letting Erin and the others hear it and get used to it.

Instead of singing, Erin spoke into the microphone again.

"You know how the sky looks when a storm is over?" she asked. "Those golden beams of light ripping up the dark clouds? My grandmother told me that was the angels coming back to chase away the darkness. She called it an angel sky." She turned from the audience to look at Jason, but she kept her mouth by the microphone. "I told Jason about it before rehearsal one day, when a storm had just ended. I showed it to him. I guess he was listening."

Jason gave her a smile.

He played the opening again, and Erin sang:

_After the storm,_

_You bring the light_

_I saw the angel sky_

_In your green eyes..._

Jason's guitar knew just how to play the song. This time, the guitar wasn't overpowering him--he was putting himself into the instrument.

The rest of the band joined in softly. Jason sang the chorus parts along with her.

By the end of the song, half the audience was in tears, and half of them were kissing each other.

"Thank you, Minneapolis," Erin whispered again into the mic. She was crying, too. "Good-bye."

They left the stage to softer, gentler applause.

Chapter Twenty-Six

"Ze coordinator is horrified about ze pyrotechnics," Franco said in the hospitality tent. Everyone was relaxing, having pops or Yoo-hoos. Grizlemor had hidden himself somewhere. He'd spent the show eating every morsel of food on the table. "But I tell her: no, zis was not planned...but yes, no one was harmed, and ze audience is going home happy."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Jason said. "We should have, uh, mentioned it was going to happen."

Franco looked at the stripped-bare refreshment table. "Do you require any additional hors d'oeuvres?"

"Anyone?" Mitch asked.

"I think we're good," Erin said. "Thanks."

"I should tell you, your music..." Franco began to weep. "Your music!" Franco bawled and threw his arms around Mitch, who stood near him. He cried into Mitch's shoulder.

"Uh, glad you like it," Mitch said, patting his arm and giving Jason a puzzled look.

"I am such a fraud!" Franco said. "In truth, I am from Joliet, Illinois. I am not European. But I have faked zis accent for zo long I cannot make it ztop!"

"Sorry to hear that, guy." Mitch tried to pull away, but Franco hugged him close, crying harder.

"I can no longer live a lie!" Franco said.

"It's okay, dude, seriously." Mitch pulled away.

Franco wiped his eyes and nose on the sleeve of his turtleneck.

"I apologize for ze strong reaction your music made in me," Franco said. "Zimply notify me when you are ready to depart for ze night, if you wish ze stagehands to assist. Thank you for such...ah! Magical music."

Grizlemor appeared in a puff between Jason and Erin's chairs. His green stomach was swollen to three times its usual size, bulging out between his shirt and his trousers.

"Why didn't you ask for more food?" the goblin demanded.

"Why didn't you leave some for other people?" Jason asked.

The goblin belched. "You eat what you can, when you can. That's my philosophy."

They hurried to pack up their instruments, feeling both exhausted and giddy.

They slipped across the street toward the alley where they'd parked, while the crowd was still stomping and demanding yet another Assorted Zebras encore. Grizlemor again carried a precariously tall stack of black instrument cases.

"Can you believe that crowd?" Mitch asked. "We're going to have every big music label knocking down our doors after that."

"This whole thing is out of control," Dred replied.

"In a good way," Jason said, but Dred just frowned.

As they approached her van, both of the back doors opened from the inside, but the van's interior lights remained dark. The five of them stopped in the middle of the alley, staring.

"Uh, Dred?" Erin asked. "Who's in your van?"

A small man, about three feet high, stepped out onto the van's back bumper. He had gray and black beard stubble, and he chewed what looked like a piece of stiff pink straw. He wore a battered old gardening hat and a long horsehair coat over mud-stained leather boots. The coat was open, and Jason could see part of a belt with several drawstring pouches and a sheathed knife.

"Who are you?" Dred asked, putting her drum case down.

"I am Hokealussiplatytorpinquarnartnuppy Melaerasmussanatolinkarrutorpicus Darnathiopockettlenocbiliotroporiqqua Bellefrost." The little man hopped down to the asphalt, eyeballing the five of them like an old gunfighter.

"An elf!" Grizlemor whispered.

"I come on behalf of Her Majesty Queen Mab, Empress of Faerie, Conqueror of the Elflands," the elf said. "Not to mention some awfully sad-looking musicians. Buttercake here says you have the four instruments of high magic stolen from the realm of Faerie, which violates the Supreme Law and all of that."

"Our instruments are not stolen!" Dred said.

"They are kind of stolen," Jason whispered.

"What?" Mitch said. "You never told us that."

"I thought it was kind of obvious," Jason said.

"You will return the four instruments to me," the elf said. "Or Buttercake and I will be forced to take them from you."

Behind him, the smallest horse Jason had ever seen, even smaller than a miniature pony, jumped out of the van. It floated gently to the ground beside the tiny man. It had golden fur, a pink mane, and a pink horn the color of rock candy jutting from the center of its forehead. Its eyes were huge, the color of chocolate.

"He's got a unicorn!" Grizlemor squealed. He disappeared in a green puff, and the stack of equipment he'd been carrying crashed to the asphalt.

"Are you giving them up, or am I fighting you for 'em?" the elf asked.

"We'll return them when we're done," Jason said.

"When do you figure that might be?" the elf asked.

"Whenever we're done being rock stars," Mitch said.

"Which we haven't really started yet," Dred added.

"A day or two?" the elf asked.

"Maybe a few years?" Erin suggested. "Not forever."

"Years!" The elf spat on the ground. "You've got ten seconds."

"Maybe we should give them back," Jason suggested, but the other three told him to shut up.

"Three, two, and one," the elf said. "Last chance."

"We need these instruments," Mitch said.

"Guess you made your choice," the elf said. "Buttercake...go get 'em, girl."

The little unicorn pawed at the ground like a bull and lowered its head. It pointed its horn at each of them in turn.

"Okay," Erin said, "That is the cutest thing I've ever seen. I'm taking a picture." She took out her phone.

The unicorn charged. She grew larger with every step, turning into a full-size horse, and then a giant horse the size of a rhinoceros. Her pink horn grew into a long spike, and sharp barbs of horn curled out all over its surface.

A double row of pink spikes grew out through her mane and continued all the way down her back. Pink armor plates formed over her ribs and joints.

The huge, beastly unicorn opened its mouth and blew out a wide plume of fire. Its horn pointed right at Mitch as it charged.

"Not so cute!" Erin screamed.

Everyone backed away except Dred, who dropped to her knees by her drum case and flipped it open. She set the snare drum on the ground and pounded it with both fists.

The ground beneath them quaked, and shock waves rippled toward the unicorn, shattering asphalt and concrete like glass. Dred's van bounced up and down, and the elf was knocked flat on his back. He fought to regain his balance, but each time he tried to stand, another shock wave toppled him again.

The massive, armored unicorn kept charging forward against the shock waves, but she began to stumble and stagger back. She let out an annoyed snort, and then two huge flaps of skin peeled away from her sides. They formed into pink, leathery bat wings. She leaped into the air and climbed high above them in the alley, beating her wings and blowing another jet of fire.

Dred stopped playing. "Are you guys going to help?" she asked. "Mitch, make a little storm or something!"

"Uh, okay..." Mitch took the fairy keyboard from its case and knelt in front of it. The device took no electricity at all--it ran on some kind of magic. Mitch stretched his fingers above the keys, but then he hesitated.

Above them, the unicorn twisted in tight circles just above the alley. It was growing even larger, its body longer and snakelike, the pink armor plates sprouting everywhere. Its cloven hooves cracked, split and unfolded into thick pink talons.

It turned again, and they saw the unicorn's face had become thick, wide and reptilian. Two golden horns had grown out on either side of the spiky pink one. It let out a deep, earthy roar that shook the streetlights. The unicorn had become a pink and gold dragon.

"Hurry!" Dred shouted to Mitch.

"I can't think of what to play!" Mitch said.

"Something about rain, maybe?" Erin suggested. She blew on her harmonica, and a breeze swept through the alley.

Mitch played the melody for the Eurythmics' "Here Comes the Rain Again." A huge, dense blue cloud filled the upper reaches of the alley, blocking their view of the dragon. A heavy downpour began immediately.

Jason knelt in the street, trying to pry open his guitar case. One of the latches was stuck. He must have closed it carelessly in the rush to pack up their things. He kept looking up at the sky through the rain, wondering where the dragon would reappear.

"Mitch, a storm!" Dred shouted. "Not just a little rain! Not even purple rain!"

Mitch switched over to a classical song. "Tchaikovsky," he said. "Number Five."

"Whatever!" Dred said.

The clouds filling the alley swelled and turned black. Balls of lightning bounced and crackled between the buildings, and the rain turned to hard, pelting hail.

The pink dragon came barreling down through the clouds, its jaws aimed right at Erin's head, as if it was following the sound of her harmonica.

Erin looked up and saw the pink reptilian face rushing down at her through the blinding rain and hail. She didn't see the big claw coming up behind her, the talon extended to hook through her as if the dragon planned to pick her up by her rib cage.

"Erin!" Jason yelled. He dove behind her, blocking the dragon's foot. One huge claw ripped diagonally across his back, slashing him open. He tumbled to the pavement with Erin in his arms. Her harmonica skittered away through the falling ice. Erin pulled free of him and crawled after it.

The dragon's claw turned Jason over on his back. Its maw breathed smoldering hot air in his face, and it glared at him with dark, angry eyes.

For some reason, all he could say was, "You're a unicorn."

The dragon's head curled back and its jaw widened, and it looked ready to bite his head off.

Erin blew a long, deep note on her harmonica, blowing a stiff wind up into one of the dragon's wings. The dragon tilted over to one side, and Erin threw herself across Jason so she could blow wind into both its wings at the same time.

The dragon's wings acted like sails, lifting the dragon high into the air. The tip of one claw cut Jason's ear and scratched along his head as the dragon soared out of reach.

The black clouds lashed the dragon with hail and lightning as it twisted and roared above them, jetting out a stream of fire. It started fighting its way down against the wind.

Jason crawled to his case and pulled at the jammed latch again. Then he turned the case on its side and bashed it against the street, breaking the latch altogether. The case fell open, and he caught his guitar by the neck as it tumbled toward the pavement.

Jason stood up, squinting against the rain as he found the bright shape of the dragon wriggling in and out of the swirling black clouds. He began to play. His guitar still felt hot, still charged up from the concert.

The rain turned to steam around him, and he played faster and harder as the dragon clawed its way down towards them.

He felt again the heat building all around him. He wanted to hit the dragon with all the power the guitar had. He kept playing, switching to the guitar riff from "Light My Fire" as if to really drive the point home. The guitar wasn't doing the work for him now. Jason had to make this happen himself.

He played until the air around him was scorching hot. The dragon managed to fold in its wings, and it dove straight for Erin.

Jason struck all six strings and released the heat bubble, with the face of his guitar pointed directly at the dragon. A giant fireball raced away from him, punching a wormhole of steam through the sheets of falling hail.

It struck the dragon and ignited, casting off blazing comets that sliced up the black clouds.

The dragon roared as the flames swept over it and engulfed its entire body. It plummeted towards them.

Jason dropped his guitar and grabbed Erin's hand, and they ran away together, toward the huge crowd of fans that had gathered behind the club and now gaped at the burning dragon falling towards the street.

The dragon's colossal body crashed to the ground, sending a wave of the shattered asphalt high into the air. Jason and Erin toppled over, and so did most of the gathered crowd.

The flames slowly twisted into dark smoke, as did the dragon body itself, leaving a dark heap of pink smoke behind. The stormclouds began to break up, and shafts of neon light from the Fleet Farm billboard above crept into the alley.

Jason helped Erin to her feet. Mitch and Dred sat up nearby--they'd run, too, abandoning their instruments. Everybody was covered in smoldering pink soot.

A tiny unicorn horn tumbled down through the smoke and clinked against the asphalt.

The audience burst into applause and whistles. Mitch waved, nodding, soaking it up.

Erin looked back at the drift of pink ash snowing down over their instruments. Then she looked at Jason.

"So...did we just kill a dragon?" she asked.

"I think so."

"That's more excitement than I expected in Minneapolis." She frowned and touched his cheek. "It got you pretty bad, didn't it?"

"Yeah, how's it look?" Jason turned around so she could see where the dragon claw had raked his back. When he faced her again, she looked like she would burst into tears.

"Jason, I was talking about your _ear_ ," she said. "I didn't know about that."

"I got it when I saved your life from that dragon," he said. "Remember that?"

"I think I do." Erin stood on her tiptoes and gave him a long kiss.

"Buttercake!" the elf's voice wailed.

The rough-looking elf with the impossibly long name knelt in the pink ash, clutching the unicorn horn and weeping. "Poor, sweet Buttercake!" he cried.

Grizlemor strolled out from behind a dented trashcan, looking shocked.

"You beat the dragon?" the goblin asked Jason.

"Yeah," Jason said. "By the way, nice job mentioning that unicorns turn into dragons. Before you ran off."

"I thought everyone knew that," Grizlemor said.

"Now I'll have to take her back to the swamp and regrow her!" the elf cried, waving the horn at them. "I hope you're happy!" He turned and ran away into the dissolving pink smoke.

"Should we go catch that elf?" Jason asked.

"If you don't, he'll be able to tell the fairies about you," Grizlemor said.

Jason and Erin pursued the elf down to a sewer grate at the end of the alley. He slipped into the drain under the sidewalk, an opening much too narrow for either of them to follow him. They heard his footsteps splash away.

"I can't even think about chasing him," Erin said. "I'm about to collapse."

"Me, too."

They walked back up the alley together.

Mitch and Dred were busy with the crowd, who advanced further into the alley now, taking pictures and begging for autographs.

"I wonder if that dragon will be all over YouTube tomorrow," Erin said.

"It'd make a great video," Jason said. "Maybe you should write a song about it."

"Maybe you should," Erin replied. She squeezed his hand, then went to check on Mitch and Dred. The fans flooded around Jason, hugging him and taking pictures. He felt dazed, but he managed to smile.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

They dusted off their instruments and managed to drive away as the fire department arrived. Dred's van rode uneven and bumpy now, after being quaked hard by her drum, but it still drove.

They were quiet as they made their way out of Minneapolis. Mitch played the Rolling Stones on the stereo, and Dred didn't stop him.

"Dragonslayers," Grizlemor said, shaking his head. He sat on the heap of pink-dusted instrument cases behind them. "Queen Mab will have a new respect for you. Which isn't necessarily a good thing."

"I told you guys the fairies were nothing to worry about," Jason said.

"You call getting attacked by a giant candy dragon nothing to worry about?" Dred asked.

"Grizlemor," Mitch said. "I'd like to ask you a few things."

"Such as?"

"Things about being a goblin, basically."

"Ah. I happen to be a learned scholar on the subject." Grizlemor puffed his way from the back of the van to the front. He sat on the dashboard, dangling his feet while he answered Mitch and Dred's questions about goblins, fairies, elves and unicorn-dragons.

"How's your back?" Erin asked Jason. "Shouldn't we go to a hospital?"

"Nope, I'm fine. It's just a scratch." A diagonal streak of pain burned across his back where the dragon had clawed him. It did hurt, but he didn't want to complain. He wanted to get home.

Jason and Erin looked at each other, smiling. He took her hand, and she let him hold it for a minute. Then she slowly pulled away and gazed at the night outside her window. Her reflection showed a confused look. She would be thinking about her boyfriend, the one who was too busy shooting a German pizzeria commercial to see her first show.

But she had kissed him, and Jason knew she didn't hate him. Far from it.

Jason closed his eyes. Despite the aching wound in his back, he gradually dozed off as he rode home, and he dreamed of fairies, and of music, and of Erin.

THE END

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

**J.L. Bryan** studied English literature at the University of Georgia and at Oxford, with a focus on the English Renaissance and the Romantic period. He also studied screenwriting at UCLA. He enjoys remixing elements of paranormal, supernatural, fantasy, horror and science fiction into new kinds of stories. He is the author of The Paranormals trilogy ( _Jenny Pox_ , _Tommy Nightmare_ , and _Alexander Death_ ), the biopunk sf novel _Helix_ , and other works. _Fairy Metal Thunder_ is the first book in his new Songs of Magic series. He lives in Atlanta with his wife Christina, one baby, two dogs, two cats, and assorted attic squirrels. His website is http://jlbryanbooks.com. You can also follow him on Twitter or Facebook.

Read more in the Songs of Magic series!

Fairy Blues

Fairystruck

Fairyland

Fairyvision

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# FEYLAND: THE DARK REALM

Book 1 in the FEYLAND Trilogy

ANTHEA SHARP

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real events or persons is purely coincidental.

Copyright 2011 Anthea Sharp. All rights reserved. This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away. Support independent authors - read legally! To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, other than for review purposes, contact antheasharp@hotmail.com. Print copies available at most vendors. Visit the author at www.antheasharp.com and sign up for her mailing list, Sharp Tales, at <https://tinyletter.com/AntheaSharp> for news of upcoming releases!

COVER: Design - Kimberly Killion, www.hotdamndesigns.com

Model - Jessica Truscott, faestock.deviantart.com

QUALITY CONTROL: If you encounter typos or formatting problems, please contact antheasharp@hotmail.com so they may be corrected.

DEDICATION:

For all the readers in my family - but most especially, for Brynn.

PROLOGUE

Jennet faced the Dark Queen, her mage staff at the ready. Excitement fizzed through her blood like it was carbonated. This was it. She'd completed the quests, mastered each level of the game, and made it here. The final boss fight.

"Fair Jennet." The queen's voice was laced with stars and shadow. "You think to best me in battle?" A faint smile crossed her pitiless, beautiful face. Her dress swirled around her like tatters of midnight mist.

"I plan on it," Jennet said. She tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear, then shook off the sudden anxiety that settled on her shoulders, cold as snow.

She had no idea what this particular fight held. Feyland was the hardest sim she'd ever played, full of weird twists and turns. She thought about it all the time. The game filtered into her dreams, shaded the edge of her days. Sometimes the computer-generated world felt more real than her ordinary life.

"Very well," the queen said. "I accept your challenge."

Jennet couldn't see any weapons on her opponent, and that dress was no substitute for armor. Safe bet that this was going to be a magical duel, spell-caster against spell-caster. Jennet flexed her fingers around the smooth wood of her staff. Anticipation spiked through her, tightening her breath.

Fantastical creatures watched from the edges of the clearing: feral-faced women with gossamer wings, dark riders with red-eyed hounds at their heels. The sound of drums and pipes wove through the shadows. Overhead, a sliver of moon tangled in the black branches of the trees. Then, between one heartbeat and the next, silence fell.

A dark figure stepped forward, forbidding in midnight armor and a wicked helm, and Jennet's stomach clenched. The Black Knight. She'd barely beaten him in an earlier quest. If he got involved in this fight, she was in severe trouble.

He held his gauntleted fist high and grated out a single word. "Begin."

It echoed eerily through the glade, and the fey-folk let out a rough cheer. There was no one to cheer for Jennet.

Without hesitation, she tipped her staff and shot a bolt of fiery white light at the queen. A sphere of shadow appeared, blocking her attack and swallowing the fire into its dark depths. More spheres materialized and began floating toward her, called by the Dark Queen. Jennet ducked and wove, avoiding their deadly touch.

Lightning crackled from her staff, illuminating the clearing with shocking white light, but the queen evaded her bolts. Still, Jennet kept pressing the attack. The dark spheres were multiplying now, bobbing in the air on all sides. A low, menacing hum surrounded her as she tried to find a clear shot.

She couldn't afford any mistakes - but the fight was pushing her to her limits. Worry started to nibble at the edges of her concentration. She just had to watch for an opening... there. She took aim and sent another bolt crackling through the air.

White fire sizzled and Jennet heard the queen gasp. Yes! She could do it. She could beat this game. The first player ever to claim victory over Feyland.

A dark sphere brushed against her shoulder. Ice stabbed into her skin, sent numbness down her arm until she could barely hold onto her staff. She stumbled back, trying to regain the rhythm of the battle. Keep breathing. Keep fighting. But where was the queen? The place where her opponent had stood was now filled with twisting shadows.

Everything rippled, as though the clearing was made of cloth billowing in a sudden gust. Jennet heard high, chiming laughter as she fell backward...

And landed in an ornate chair set before a feasting table. _What?_ She jumped up, heart racing, and knocked the edge of the table. A goblet sitting in front of her shook, sending a drop of deep red liquid to stain the white tablecloth.

"Sit down, Fair Jennet," the queen said from her place across the table. "This is the next stage of our battle."

Pale candles in thorny candelabra illuminated the feast. Their silver flames reflected in the queen's fathomless eyes.

"You changed the rules! You can't do that." Jennet's legs felt shaky as she edged back into her chair. She was so not prepared for this.

The queen laughed. It was the sound of ice shattering on a black lake. "Of course I can. This is my court. My realm. You are but a visitor. Please - drink." She waved one delicate hand at the goblet.

"No thanks."

Jennet's mouth said the words, but her hand reached out anyway and lifted the heavy silver goblet. A sweet, thick smell drifted from the cup. Roses and burnt sugar. The edge of metal touched her lips.

No. She was not going to do this. The queen might try to control their battle, but she could still fight back. Fingers trembling from effort, Jennet forced the goblet away. The air around her was sticky and nearly solid, like dough. She pushed against it, her breath coming in gasps, until at last the cup touched the table.

"Very well." The queen's voice was edged with frost. "If you disdain my hospitality, then you must answer a riddle."

That seemed safer than drinking whatever was in the goblet. And the game wasn't giving her a lot of other options. "A riddle? All right."

The candles flared and the queen's eyes glowed. "Listen then, and listen well, the answer to this riddle tell, or forfeit of thyself will be, and never more wilt thou be free."

Jennet shivered. The queen's voice was ominous, her words intoned with deep meaning. Whatever happened, it was clear that failing to answer the riddle carried a price. Jennet curled her fingers tightly into her palms and tried not to show the fear flickering through her.

"Ask me your riddle," she said.

"As soon as it begins, it is ending. Without form, still it moves. When it is gone, it yet remains." The queen smiled, sharp as a blade. "You have three guesses."

"Ah..." Jennet's mouth was dry. Her mind beat against the riddle like a bird trapped behind glass. Without taste or form. Something powerful, but insubstantial. "Is it the wind?"

A low sighing went through the branches of the dark trees. The candle nearest her snuffed out, as though some invisible hand had abruptly doused the flame.

The queen shook her head. "One chance gone."

A circle of watchers had formed around the table. Lithe women with gossamer wings gathered beside the queen. Gnarled brown creatures with sharp teeth and fingers that were too long for their hands swayed next to them. Red-capped goblins and capering sprites - they all watched her with avid, gleaming eyes.

Freaky. This whole battle had turned beyond strange. Jennet pulled in a deep breath, though her chest felt tight, and gave another answer. "Music?"

The second she said the word, she knew it was wrong. She shivered as a second candle flame went out. The watchers surrounding her tittered, and the low breeze rustled the branches.

Jennet squeezed her eyes closed, blocking out the shadowy glade, the fantastical figures, the wicked curve of the Dark Queen's smile. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest, and she tasted the metal edge of fear on her tongue. Think. She had to figure this out.

"Your time has run, Fair Jennet. Speak your final answer."

She opened her eyes, to see that the Dark Queen had risen to her feet. A single candle burned between them.

"I..."

Panic banged through her, like a hundred doors slamming shut. The watching creatures grew still and silent. Even the wind quieted, waiting. She had to answer.

"Is it... a dream?" The words floated from her mouth and hovered there, just beyond her lips.

In the silence that followed, Jennet felt shadows gathering closer. Dread crawled through her, carrying the awful sensation of failure.

The last candle died. A high, wailing music started up, the keening cry of pipes swirling through the air. Slowly, the queen shook her head. Diamonds sparkled like frost in her dark hair.

"No," she said. "You have lost. Now, mortal girl, I take my due."

The queen held up a hollow crystal sphere in one hand. With the other, she scribed strange gestures in the air. Her fingers left glowing streaks of silver against the darkness. Then she pointed straight at Jennet.

"Ahh!" A sharp pain speared through Jennet, as though the queen had stabbed her in the chest. She doubled over, gasping, while agony iced her blood. Oh god. It hurt.

"Behold, Fair Jennet," the queen said. "The answer is Life. Your essence is captured here. It will serve us well."

Jennet looked up, tears clouding her vision. The queen held the sphere aloft. It wasn't empty any more. Inside was a bright swirl of color, like rainbow flames. They pulsed and danced, trapped inside their crystal prison. Wavering, calling to her.

"How," Jennet forced the words out through lips tight with pain, "how do I get that back?"

Every game had a second chance, a third. You kept fighting the last battle until you finally won. Failure wasn't permanent. Not like in real life.

The queen laughed, and the sound carried a bitter chill. "You cannot. Without a champion, you are lost. Now go. Go! I send thee, defeated, from the Dark Realm."

Pain wrenched through Jennet and she screamed. Golden light blinded her senses and she swirled through a sickening vertigo. Blackness waited, merciful and dark, on the other side. She opened her arms to it, and fell.

Jennet woke, aching, in the sim chair. Her fingers were stiff inside the gaming gloves, and when she sat forward, fire exploded in her shoulder. She could barely lift her arm, but it was impossible to take off the helmet one-handed. Trying not to whimper, she gritted her teeth against the agony and pulled off her gear.

She had lost.

Feyland was more than just a sim game. The clues had been there all along, but she hadn't paid enough attention until now. Now, when it was too late. And she'd done worse than lose the game.

There was an icy hollow in the middle of her chest. The Dark Queen had taken something from her - something she feared she couldn't live without. Bright flames trapped inside a magical sphere. Her _mortal essence_ , the queen had said.

She had to get it back.

CHAPTER ONE

Jennet leaned her forehead against the tinted window of the grav-car and watched as the unfamiliar neighborhoods went from decent to tattered. So much had changed in the last few weeks. She couldn't believe she was here, friendless and alone, starting a new school.

And no closer to winning back what the Dark Queen had stolen.

She sighed, and her breath left a mist on the window glass, obscuring the boarded-up windows and graffiti-festooned buildings along Crestview's main street. From what she'd seen so far, this decaying town in the middle of the country's flatlands was barely wired. Did the kids here even know what a good sim-system looked like?

Dad had offered to pay for her to stay as a boarding student at Middland Prep, back in their old town, when the company transferred him here. He thought she had a choice, but she didn't. Not with part of her soul trapped inside a computer game. She couldn't get it back without going into Feyland, and the only system that could even run the game was Dad's prototype Full-D. Which no way was he leaving behind. So here she was, too.

The car slid to a stop outside a blocky gray building with _Crestview High_ stamped in concrete over the front doors. Students funneled into the school, trampling the thin grass out front.

"Here we are, Miss Carter," said George, her dad's chauffeur.

"Great," she said.

She wanted to make George turn the car around. Wanted to crawl back into bed and pull the covers over her head. Or power-up her system and lose herself in an easy game - some fluffy simulated world where the goals were catching butterflies and collecting candies. Something pretty and safe.

But virtual worlds weren't safe. She'd learned that the hard way.

She still had nightmares about that final battle. Sometimes, in the deepest hours, she woke in a cold sweat with the Dark Queen's laughter cutting through her. A computer game shouldn't be able to affect the real world. But it did. Jennet pressed her lips together so hard she could feel the edges of her teeth.

"Whenever you're ready, Miss Carter." George swiveled in the front seat to look at her. "I would like to be able to inform your father you weren't late for your first day."

Her stomach clenched, as though she'd eaten rocks for breakfast instead of toast. She squeezed her eyes shut, then blinked them open. Staying in the back seat wasn't going to solve her problems. She _had_ to find a gamer here - someone who was even more skilled than herself. Someone adept at wielding a virtual sword. Someone who could help her win free of Feyland. Permanently.

_Without a champion, you are lost_. The Dark Queen's words echoed in her mind.

"Miss Carter?" The car door slid open.

"All right, I'm going."

Forcing her fingers to unclench, Jennet grabbed her satchel and stepped out. Late fall air lay clammy on her skin, and a wave of dizziness made her cling to the door.

Breathe. Don't let George see her weakness. She caught her balance and moved onto the sidewalk. The grav-car skimmed silently away, and she turned to face the school.

A metallic beeping from the building made the few stragglers scramble for the doors. She swallowed back the dry fear lodged in her throat, and followed.

Inside, it smelled like schools always smelled - a mix of cleaning products, sour lunch, and faintly, old-fashioned books. A security checkpoint loomed just inside the front doors. Her steps slowed. This was nothing like Middland Prep. Were the students here really that dangerous? Nervousness squeezed her lungs as the big guard waved her through the scanners.

No alarms went off, and she began breathing again. When she asked where the office was, the guard pointed to the first door down the hall.

The secretary, a thin, dark-haired man, peered at her through his glasses. "Can I help you?"

"I'm a new sophomore. Jennet Carter."

"One of the VirtuMax kids?" He said the company name like it left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Right. Um, my dad has been in contact with the school?"

The secretary poked the screen in front of him. "Ah yes, Carter. I'm transferring some additional forms over. Make sure you fill them out in full. The school will issue you a tablet so you can access your account."

He pulled a battered tablet out of a drawer and set it in front of her. It was an old Epox, outdated beyond belief. Her hopes slipped another notch. This place was a technological wasteland. How was she going to find someone here who could help her?

The secretary pushed a piece of paper toward her. "If you'll sign here--"

"I have my own." She pulled out her brand-new tablet and watched the secretary's eyebrows lift as if pulled up by strings. She scrolled through the menu until she found the red and blue _Crestview High_ icon, and then tilted the screen toward him. "This it?"

"Yes. And you'll want to be careful with that tablet. Make sure you don't leave it unattended. The school takes no responsibility for lost or missing items." He dropped the battered Epox back into the drawer, then glanced at his own screen, his eyebrows settling. "You have twenty-four seconds to get to class. Early World History with Ms. Lewis. End of the building, room 114. No running."

Great. Like she needed to be late on her first day. She slung her satchel over her shoulder and pushed herself to move faster down the hall. A boy wearing a blue jacket dashed past, and a brown-haired girl disappeared into a nearby room. Other than that, the halls were deserted.

There - room 114. Worry skittered up her spine as she pulled the door open.

The plump, red-haired teacher standing by the desk glanced up as she entered. "Miss Carter?"

Jennet nodded, her skin prickling as she felt the attention in the room shift. All the kids were looking at her. Sizing her up: her hair, her clothes, the way she stood. Her heart thumped against her ribs, but she forced her breathing to stay slow. She lifted one hand to smooth her hair back and heard a murmur as they caught sight of her wrist implant.

A quick scan of the room confirmed there were only two other kids with wrist-chips. They met her gaze with serious relief. The rest either turned their heads away or narrowed their eyes, giving her you-don't-belong-here-we-hate-you looks.

"Your desk is at the end of the row." The teacher pointed. "Welcome to Crestview."

Welcome. Sure. Jennet slid into her seat just as the second bell blared through the room.

"Class," Ms. Lewis said, "please access file 73 in your history doc."

Jennet pulled out her tablet and tried to ignore the whispers that followed. Maybe she should have taken the old Epox - but she shouldn't have to be embarrassed that her gear was cutting-edge.

She straightened her shoulders and scanned the room. The two VirtuMax kids smiled at her. One was a girl with dark hair, the other, a mousy-looking boy. Like herself, they held shiny, newer-model tablets. The rest of the class though.... Despair crawled through her.

Almost none of the Crestview students had their own tablets. The clunky school-issued Epoxes were the standard. How could any of these kids be 'leet players if they didn't even have the most basic tech? This was like being transported back to the Middle Ages.

Still, she _had_ to consider the possibilities. For all she knew, that brown-haired boy in the back row was a flawless gamer. She thought he was watching her, his green eyes hostile behind the swag of hair in front of his face.

If not him, what about the blond guy sitting two seats over? Seeing her looking, he winked and blew her a kiss.

On second thought, no. Neither of them could be the sim hero she needed.

Half of her wanted to put her head down on the desk and cry. The other half smoldered, ready to jump up and start yelling curses at the universe. Instead, she stared at the schedule glowing on her screen. Six classes. Six chances to find someone to help her.

If she didn't get to the Dark Queen soon, she was dead.

CHAPTER TWO

Tam watched the new girl. Sure, it looked like he was taking notes while Ms. Lewis droned on about ancient civilizations, but under cover of his moving hand, under the hair he never bothered brushing out of his eyes, he was watching.

He always watched. Everything. Never said much, but that was okay. It kept him invisible and out of trouble.

So, the new girl. Jennet Carter. Everything about her screamed 'elite.' Elitist, too. She tucked a strand of pale hair behind one ear, and the chip implant in her wrist glinted. More proof that she didn't belong here.

"Welcome to Crestview High," Ms. Lewis said.

Jennet only nodded. She didn't look too happy to be there, and for a moment, unwilling sympathy moved through him. Everyone was staring at her. It couldn't be easy, coming into a new school after the year started - even if you were one of the privileged. Which, here in Crestview, made you a severe outsider.

She sat down and pulled a shiny new-model tablet out of her bag. Clearly the school ones weren't good enough for her. Though, to be honest, some of those tablets barely worked. If he had the option, he'd bring his own gear, too.

She obviously lived in The View, the compound VirtuMax was building for their company employees. He'd heard the houses there were huge, that they were putting in specialty stores, a g-board park. Probably money falling off the bushes, too. All you needed to get in was a wrist-chip.

What would that be like? Wave your arm and have the gates of paradise open. Instant access to a safe and sanitary little world, full of the best tech money could buy. A fat credit account, probably kept full-up by a doting daddykins. Strings fully attached. He grimaced and rubbed his own wrist.

No thanks. Better to be under the radar, far as he was concerned. Not that the VirtuMax kids would know anything about being chewed up and spit out by the authorities. Even the regular townies thought they lived in the real world, but they were dreaming. Nothing was grittier and more real than the Exe. Even the locals tried to avoid his part of Crestview.

But despite his dislike of the new girl, he couldn't stop sneaking looks. There was something about Jennet Carter. Something more than her long pale-gold hair and the high curve of her cheekbones. She seemed fragile. Mysterious.

He shook his head. The last thing Crestview High needed was another VirtuMax entitlement diva walking the halls.

At lunch, he and his friend Marny claimed a table near the back of the cafeteria. He'd known Marny for years - she lived on the outskirts of the Exe. But where he was lean and agile, she was easily as large as the big guys on the football team. Most kids avoided her, like being fat was a contagious disease. But she didn't care.

Marny was who she was and the rest of the world could go blink. She was unapologetic to the point of rudeness, and he liked that, how actual she was. Plus, she noticed stuff. Not as much as him, but enough to make it worthwhile to hang with her. Sometimes. There were plenty of days he wanted to be alone, when he was all edges and sharpness. But not today.

"Look at her," Marny said, pointing with her chin across the cafeteria. She made her eyes narrow and took a long, slurping drink of her cola, as if to show she wasn't impressed.

"Who?"

He knew though. Jennet Carter was pretty hard to miss. He'd been aware of her from the moment she walked into the cafeteria. It was like an itch. Maybe if he ignored it, it would just go away. Uncomfortable, yeah, but scratching always made it worse. So he tried not to stare at Jennet's sky-blue eyes, or notice the way she moved. Though now that Marny was pointing her out, he had to.

"That new girl, the rich bitch. She's one of _them_." Her voice was scornful, but he could hear the jealousy underneath.

Could taste it in his own mouth.

Them. The VirtuMax kids. They'd started showing up this summer, with their money and grav-cars and g-boards. Their privilege and arrogance. He pulled his battered brown coat tighter around his shoulders. He wanted nothing to do with them.

Marny took another gulp of her drink, then wadded up her napkin. "Are you done yet? Come on." She grabbed her tray and stood.

"Where?" He looked down at his half-eaten lunch. It would be better if he finished it, since breakfast had been scarce and dinner was never a guarantee, but the grey meat and congealed white sauce was too unappealing. He pushed the tray away.

"The library. I have to see about graphics mods."

"I guess." He dumped his lunch and followed Marny out of the cafeteria.

The library smelled good. The scent of old paper filled up his nostrils, though there were fewer books every year. He went past the meager shelves and straight to the netscreens. Maybe he could find more info on the new simulators VirtuMax was working on.

The corporation had shouldered into town, but he could almost forgive them. After all, they were one of the few companies working on a full-sim.

Full sensory simulation. Total immersion in the virtual world.

His nerves tingled at the thought. What if that world - the world of pixels and programming - could feel as real as this one? Sometimes when he was simming he almost felt it, like he was _there_ , inside the game. But the feeling never lasted. It was impossible to completely escape his reality.

He leaned back in his chair, one leg propped out in front of him. Maybe the people who said there couldn't ever be a perfect interface were right, that the tech couldn't ever get to the level of complexity that matched a human brain.

VirtuMax had been developing their full-sim for years, but the release was always delayed. Tam skimmed the articles, but he'd read all of them. The most recent one was a couple weeks old, about how the lead game developer's death had brought the project to a stop.

Marny paused beside his screen, her taped-together reader glowing in her hand. "Anything interesting?"

"No. What are you looking up?"

She cocked a shoulder. "3-D meshes. I can't get my avatar fat enough in Freelife. I don't want to look like somebody's idea of the perfect woman. I want to look like me."

"Good luck with that. I hear Freelife's a hard world to modify."

"That's why I chose it. Have you _seen_ the avs in there?" She gave a snort of disgust. "If you saw someone who looked like that in RL, you'd think they were a genetically mutated freak. All legs and skinny and boobular."

He hadn't really noticed. In fact, he'd always been fine with the standard avatars in virtual reality. The females were usually cute and sexy. The guys were handsome and brawny, or fearsomely monstrous and warlike.

The point was, he _didn't_ want to be himself. All the options from there were good with him. Marny wanted to make a statement. She wanted to bust the parameters wide open. Him? He just wanted out.

"How's your system?" she asked. "Still having issues?"

He shrugged. "It's ok. I mean, it works. I can play, there's just a weird thing with the imaging."

And the sound card was going, and sometimes he lost connection altogether, but he didn't want to say it out loud, in case it completely jinxed his system.

"That's the problem with over-clocked gear." Marny shook her head. "You'd think it would last more than a year, huh. My uncle Zeg might have some spare parts around. Or you could go back to playing at his simcafe."

Back to the rental-quality systems. The thought left a sour taste in his mouth. For years he'd helped around the cafe in exchange for system time. Marny's uncle didn't mind the extra help - or the way people would come in to watch Tam play, after he got good.

Good enough that he won last year's tri-state simming tournament. He'd scored his system out of it - plus a chance to compete at nationals. And he could have won there, too, if only...

His heart twisted at the memory and he yanked himself back to the present - away from the poisonous thoughts of what might have been.

"Ok," he said to Marny. "If your uncle has some parts, that could work. I might end up needing them."

He didn't even want to think about his system failing. The best part of his day was when he could pull on the helmet, slip on the gloves, and go slay some monsters. Be a hero for a little while, someplace where he was the best.

"Why don't you ask him," Marny said, direct as usual.

"Fine then, I will."

Maybe Zeg had something worth scavenging. Tam's little brother could figure out how to wire it in - the only thing the Bug was really good at. His blood-stabilizing meds made the kid so manic he couldn't concentrate on anything unless it was full of fire or electricity.

Tam shook his head and went back to reading. There were no solutions.

Sometimes he was pretty sure his life was on its way to being permanently broken.

CHAPTER THREE

"How's school going, Jennet?" Dad asked after dinner on Thursday. "It can't be much like prep. Are you sure you made the right choice?"

She'd made the only choice. "It's fine, Dad."

If by _fine_ you meant bleak.

Whatever the Dark Queen had done to her, it was severe - and getting worse. Every morning, a paler version of Jennet stared out of the mirror. Dizziness swirled around her when she stood up or walked too quickly. She could hide the hollow shakiness filling her up, but eventually Dad would notice she was sick again, the way she'd been right after she lost the battle with the queen. The doctors had no clue. They'd called it 'summer pneumonia' and had kept her in the hospital ten days. But this time, she didn't think hospital meds would help.

Her time was running out.

Dad leaned forward and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Are you meeting people? I know it's not an easy transition, but by next summer there should be a lot more families here in the View."

If she made it to next summer. "I've met a couple of the company kids. They seem nice." And tragic, as far as gaming went.

The dark-haired girl shared a lot of her classes, but she was all anti-tech - in full rebellion against the company both her parents worked for. And from Jennet's few conversations with the other Viewer, he didn't seem to be much of a gamer. He claimed to like simming, but he had no idea about any of the new games or systems.

"Glad to hear it." Dad smiled at her, though there was worry in his eyes. "The academics here can't be that challenging for you. Going back to your old school as a boarder is still an option. I wish you'd consider it."

Panic stabbed through her and she shook her head. They had been over this so many times. Wherever the Full-D system was, she had to be. The only way to save herself was to get back to the Dark Court - she knew it in her bones.

The only problem was, she couldn't get there.

She'd tried, over and over, had spent frustrating hours in-game, trying to get past the first level. No matter what she did - rolling new characters, trying all the quest lines - she couldn't get to the Dark Court. Couldn't even get past the starting areas. At least, not by herself. Just as the queen had decreed - she was barred from Feyland.

"A review of the academic subjects isn't going to hurt me, Dad. I'm staying here, with you. Not changing my mind about that."

She'd tried telling him what had happened. But every time, the words dried up in her mouth. How could she explain? It was pretty unbelievable. If it weren't for the fact that she _felt_ what the game was doing to her, she wouldn't believe it herself. And she didn't think he'd listen to her argue about why she should be allowed to play again on the Full-D. He'd just see it as gamer excuses. The system was currently off-limits to her - which just made everything more complicated.

Two years ago, Dad had used his program-manager privilege and brought a version of the new Full-D system home. Always working, that was Dad, but in this case it had been fun for her, too. He'd let her try out the early versions of the games the company was developing. When the next-gen system came out, he'd scored one of those, too, arguing that his daughter was a great tester. It was true.

At first she and Dad had run the proto-sims together. He was a terrible player, but he'd watch how she did things in-game and take the information back to the game designers, the rest of his team. She even played an early version of Feyland, though it was nothing like the world she'd become lost in.

Then Dad's work heated up. His old college friend, Thomas Rimer, joined the company as lead game developer. That had been fun - Thomas was like an uncle to her, and always brought her interesting things to read. Old books, rare ones unavailable in e-format, full of fantastical creatures and odd stories. It was obvious, reading them, where his ideas for Feyland had come from.

Dad had gotten even busier with work and she spent more time by herself on the Full-D, playing through the same old content. Until she'd found the password-protected files. Dad's security was always easy to crack, and she was curious to see what his development team was working on.

What she had found was magic.

Golden light surrounded her, and she was transported to another world. She walked through a meadow of flowers and felt the breeze against her face, smelled the fresh scent of grasses and earth. Pixies fluttered around her, laughing. Odd creatures gave her quests that led to unexpected puzzles. Her first fight in-game had been ferocious - magebolts sizzled from her magical staff and she had slain a black wyvern, receiving a glowing treasure in return.

She'd known that VirtuMax was working on adaptive technology, but this, _this_ , was beyond anything. The game was incredible, and the sensory interface felt real. More than real. Everything else fell away and she was _there_ , in an enchanted world.

She spent the summer in-game. Sure she ate her meals, slept, hung out with her friends, but her mind was spun about with the silver threads of Feyland.

Until she was defeated by the Dark Queen. And then Thomas died.

His death hit Dad hard, not only because he'd been a co-worker, but a good friend. VirtuMax got paranoid and work on the game stopped. Rumors flew that Thomas's death was some kind of corporate espionage. They cracked down on security, stepped-up transfers to the View - and Dad absolutely forbid her to use the Full-D.

But by then it was too late.

"You're looking tired," Dad said. "Make sure you get to bed on time tonight, all right?"

"I will if you will." She smiled, to show she was teasing, but he didn't look so great himself. There were lines on either side of his mouth that hadn't eased since Thomas died.

"You drive a hard bargain." He smiled back, though there was something distant in his eyes. Probably already thinking about work.

She couldn't take another night of pretending to watch vids while trying to ignore the Full-D systems in the game room. "Right. So, I'm going out to board a little."

"Be careful." He always said that.

There was nothing dangerous here, in the half-built world of The View. The fence was live, and nobody without a chip or a pass was allowed in.

"I am." Besides, she always wore her helmet.

There was still some watery light in the sky as she coasted down the empty streets, the g-board humming under her feet. She didn't have the energy to try any tricks - not that there was much here to work with. No rails or half-pipes or ramps. So she just balanced on her board, moving past houses and landscaping that didn't exist yet, except inside some architect's sim.

Nobody here. Nobody who could help her. Which left Crestview High, with its drastic losers. The sky grew darker, and she shivered. There had to be a reasonable gamer here, somewhere. Even if they didn't live in The View.

She'd seen a flyer earlier that week for the school's Gaming Club. The meeting was tomorrow. Maybe she'd find her champion there.

CHAPTER FOUR

Jennet walked into the Media Room and stopped, her heart sinking. The room held a cluster of netscreens, an old console, and a dismantled moto-sense setup. She'd assumed the Gaming Club would have basic sim equip. But no. Not in Crestview.

A clump of boys and a purple-haired girl were sitting around screens showing a battle RPG. They hadn't noticed Jennet yet.

She took a careful step backward, trying to breathe softly. This had been a mistake. Maybe she could still get away unseen.

"Hey. Rich girl," a voice called. "You in the right place?"

Jennet halted and looked across the room, meeting the gaze of a large girl with fierce eyes. She looked familiar, and her name rolled into Jennet's mind - Marny. They shared a few classes. The rest of the gamers lifted their heads, fingers on their pause buttons, and the air in the room went heavy and cold.

Great. An invisible exit was out of the question now.

"So, you're too good to answer?" Marny asked. "What are you doing here, anyway? Looking for a cheap boyfriend?"

The other kids laughed, though the big girl's words hadn't been entirely kind to them, either.

Jennet took a deep breath. This was her last chance. If there wasn't a 'leet player here, she didn't know where she'd find one.

"You guys aren't the only ones who game, you know," she said. "I'm a simmer."

The tension in the room gained an interested edge. One of the boys pushed his yellow hoodie away from his big-nosed face.

"You? A simmer?" He looked her up and down. "Right."

The skinny boy next to him let out a high-pitched giggle. "Yeah, like I'm sure she's really prime at Unicorn Fantastic. Or RainbowGems."

The other kids laughed, ready to dismiss her.

Jennet gestured to the netscreens. "Do you guys play Rumble?"

Yellow-hoodie's eyebrows went up. "What, you're gonna challenge one of us to a duel? If you hadn't noticed, princess, these are screens, not sims."

"Ease up, Fernald," Marny said, leaving her solo screen and walking over to the other gamers. "If she wants to duel, let her. Maybe she could show you a thing or two."

"Right. You really want to duel?" The boy named Fernald folded his arms, then glanced at the skinny kid next to him. "Clarc would be a good pick - he's fairly dud."

The skinny boy flushed, but he didn't say anything. Clearly Fernald was alpha dog in the Gaming Club.

"Or you could face off with Shella." Fernald nodded to the purple-haired girl. "You know, stay at the female level. Girl on girl."

This guy was an idiot. Jennet stepped forward. "Who's the best player here? That's the one I'm dueling."

Fernald gave her a mean smile. "You're looking at him."

"Then we're on."

She was glad, actually. Fernald was too full of himself by far. And he was in for a serious battle, whether he knew it or not.

There was a general scramble as the gamers shifted, and an empty chair opened up for her. Jennet sat, put on the headset, and gave the 3D-mouse a couple test swipes.

It had been months since she'd played Rumble, but it was a pretty simple PVP combat game. The worst that could happen was that Fernald would end up beating her. She pressed her lips together. If he proved to be the best gamer in school, she wasn't sure she wanted to ask his arrogant face for help - let alone spend time in Feyland with him.

"We'll go Basic Mode, just for you," Fernald said. "How's that sound?"

Jennet shook her head. She wanted to push him, and herself, to the limit. "Hard Mode. Best two out of three."

"You really want to eat cement twice in a row?" Fernald gave her a look of mock sympathy. "I'm not gonna cut you any breaks."

"Whatever." She selected the Rumble icon and pressed the play button.

The pre-set characters popped up, a dozen of them on the selection screen. She didn't hesitate in making her choice - Nika, the ninja assassin. All that time spent dueling her friends last spring was about to pay off. If she wasn't too rusty. She had one chance to remember how to play - one loss she could absorb. After that, she'd better be on.

"Ready," she said, meeting Fernald's stare.

"Ok, princess. Show me what you got."

The arena appeared, a big walled circle enclosing the characters. Inside were the usual obstacles and traps: randomly scattered mines, a pit, some pillars, and a couple floating platforms. Jennet clicked through the function bars, reminding herself of Nika's combat skills. Slice, Leap, Throwing Star, Dash.

Then Fernald's character materialized - a massive tank-bot called Reaper. Good. That thing carried a lot of armor and some serious weaponry, but it was clumsy. She had the advantage of speed and maneuverability.

The tank-bot moved forward, bladed hands snicking together, but Jennet was faster. She leaped Nika onto one of the platforms and got a couple throwing-stars off. One of them stuck into the metal side of Reaper's head, like a jagged earring, but it didn't cause much damage. For that, she'd need to hit the vital spots - eyes, neck, under the ribs.

Reaper lurched forward, one arm now transformed into a laser-cannon. Red beams sliced the air, and she somersaulted Nika out of the way. Adrenaline zinged through her, and she felt her focus tighten up. Every shift of her fingers sent her character dancing away from the tank-bot.

Fernald let out a vicious laugh. "Fancy moves aren't going to win this for you. Listen. You can still surrender."

"I don't think so." Jennet dodged away, keeping far enough that Reaper couldn't hack at her, but not so far that he could use his cannon again.

Just in time, she realized Fernald was backing her into the pit. Certain death from razor-sharp stakes waited at the bottom. For a moment Nika teetered on the edge, and she heard the other gamers suck in their breaths. She twisted the mouse violently and managed to fling her character to the side. Too slow. She'd evaded the pit, but the tank-bot was on her, clashing and slicing. There was no escape. Her screen flashed red, and Nika went down in a splash of blood and flutter of black cloth, defeated.

Jennet let out a silent breath. Okay. One round gone. She had to do better than that. She _would_ do better than that.

"Yeah!" Fernald leaned back and cracked his knuckles. "You like that? Want some more?"

She was getting the rhythm of the game back into her body. This next fight she'd go on the offensive, take the tank-bot down with a quick assault. She didn't think Fernald would expect that.

"Best two, remember?" She batted her eyelashes at him. "If you can beat me again, that is."

"Heh. In your dreams."

This time, when the arena opened, she didn't hesitate. In two fast moves, she blocked Reaper's clashing hands and slid a blade into his right eye. With a clank and groan, the tank-bot tilted and fell backwards. The ground shook when he landed, and a puff of dust rose in the air.

The gamers were silent. Most of them were staring at Fernald's screen, but Marny was looking straight at her. A smile lifted the corner of the big girl's mouth.

Fernald's expression was as black and stormy as a tornado. "Lucky break. It happens. Even the worst noobs sometimes win - by a fluke."

"But, dude," the skinny boy began.

"Shut it, Clarc," Fernald gave him an elbow to the side. "And get out of my way. It's time to take the princess down." He shot Jennet a narrow-eyed look. "Here comes your loss."

He'd be on guard now, but Jennet knew she could take him. She grinned at him over the screen.

"In _your_ dreams," she said. She heard Marny smother a laugh.

Fernald scowled at her. Good. She had no doubt he'd rush her character and try what she'd just done. A quick and bloody death.

Sure enough, the tank-bot charged forward, this time carrying a huge axe. The weapon whistled down - but Nika was already gone, sliding around the side of Reaper, her blade seeking the weak spot under his ribs.

Fernald pivoted his character and tried to pound her again. At least he wasn't a hopelessly bad gamer. Just an annoying one. She swallowed, and danced Nika back a few paces.

_Click._ Barely heard - the sound of a mine, primed and ready. Adrenaline surging, she hammered the _dash_ command and ran Nika across the arena in a blur of black. There was a sudden, fiery explosion right where she had been standing.

"Dammit!" Fernald wasn't as quick. The blast rocked Reaper, but didn't take him down.

Now she was in trouble. Nika was out in laser-cannon range again, and she wouldn't be able to _dash_ for another ten seconds. Plenty of time for Fernald to hit her with a couple deadly shots. She had to keep him off-balance - and her character out of his sights. She dodged Nika behind one of the stubby pillars scattered through the arena.

"Hiding?" There was a sneer in Fernald's voice.

"Yeah, and you're it. Come and get me." She checked the cooldown on her _dash_. Eight seconds.

Reaper clanked to the side, trying to maneuver for a clear shot. She circled Nika around the pillar, letting a flutter of black cloth show. Red beams shot past, taking out a part of the pillar. Time to find a new hiding spot - the whole pillar was probably next. She imagined Fernald thinking the same thing. Focusing the cannon on the pillar. Pulling the trigger - now!

She rolled to the side, and kept rolling as the pillar exploded. Five seconds to go. And nowhere else to hide.

Nika scrambled to her feet and started zigzagging across the arena. The earth around her was scored with holes as Reaper kept firing, tracking her path. He got an indirect hit, and Jennet winced as her screen flashed yellow. That was the warning that her health meter was plummeting. Three seconds. Time for a new plan.

"Shiiineh!" Nika's battle-cry rang through the arena.

She changed her trajectory and ran straight at Reaper, flinging throwing-stars like glittering confetti in front of her. When she ran out of stars, she started on knives.

"What the - ?" Fernald watched her crazy moves for the last crucial seconds. Then, with a chuckle, he raised his laser-gun. "Wow, you really are a noob."

Deadly red beams shot out... into empty air. Nika's _dash_ had carried her past Reaper. She whirled, knives flashing, and sunk a lethal blow right between his ribs.

This time, Reaper crumpled into a heap of metal. Satisfaction swept through her like a warm tide.

"No way!" Fernald shoved his chair back and stood. "You used some kind of cheat. I should've known someone like you would use exploits. That was so--"

"Shut up, Fernald." Marny's voice was even. "She didn't cheat. You lost. Deal."

"I should've known. You freak girls stick together."

With a last glare, the defeated gamer turned his back on them. He punched Clarc in the arm, then stomped out the door.

"Uh. That was really prime," the skinny boy said, rubbing his arm. The admiration in his eyes was uncomfortably close to a full-on crush.

Jennet stood. "Well, thanks for letting me play. I sort of crashed your meeting."

The purple-haired girl gave her a tentative smile. "It was about time someone took Fernald down. Come back again, k?"

"Sure. Do you think you'll ever get some sim equip in here? That's what I do, really."

The girl shook her head. "Not in the next ten years, I don't think. Unless VirtuMax wants to donate some." She got a thoughtful look. "Hey. Maybe I should do a project on that."

Clarc nodded eagerly, giving the purple-haired girl the same look he'd turned on Jennet. "Good idea, Shella. You're so smart."

"Well, thanks again," Jennet said. "It's been... interesting."

She turned, to find Marny standing there.

"More than interesting," the other girl said. "Best afternoon I've had in a while. My name is--"

"Marny. I know."

There was a flash of surprise in Marny's eyes, quickly masked. Then her mouth quirked up. "Yeah. And you're Jennet."

"Glad we got that sorted out." Jennet smiled - one of the first real smiles she'd felt since coming to Crestview. "So... is Fernald really the best player here? Or was he just boasting?"

She had wanted to defeat him - to wipe that arrogant smirk off his face. But at the same time, she'd hoped, she'd _needed_ , to find a prime gamer here.

Marny shrugged. "Fernald's as good as any of them are."

Jennet gave her a close look. She hadn't seen Marny play, but obviously the girl knew something about gaming.

"What about you? Do you sim?"

"Me? Nah." Marny shook her head, her bobbed black hair swinging around her face.

Too bad. Of everyone she had met so far, she liked Marny. They might have made a good team - if only the girl were a simmer. Jennet would much rather have Marny's solid presence beside her in Feyland than that jerk Fernald.

"Is there someplace else people go to play?" Jennet glanced around the Media Room. "I mean, someplace with sim-systems?"

"My uncle has a sim-café. Though you don't seem the type to go there, frankly. Don't you have a system at home?"

"Yes. I was just wondering," Jennet said. "Anyway. Good meeting you."

She felt her brief happiness fade, like an ember dying out. So much for the Gaming Club. Now what? The sim-café? That kind of place was for people who couldn't afford systems or pay the monthly access fees on the top games. She could try looking there - but she already knew it would be a dead end. Despair boxed her in, dark heavy walls with no windows, no doors.

"Hold on." Marny's brown eyes held a spark. "You know, if you're looking for a simmer you should talk to my friend Tam."

"Tam? Tam Linn?"

The sullen boy in her history class who never brushed the hair out of his eyes? The ragged kid from the Exe? No way.

"Yep. He won his system in a sim tournament. You should see him play. He's flawless."

CHAPTER FIVE

Tam headed across the scabby grass outside school. He needed to do something about his system, and soon. Yesterday it had made a horrible grinding vibration when he powered up. The noise finally faded, but it had been bad.

"Tam!" a voice called behind him. His steps slowed.

Not just any voice, but _hers_. Jennet Carter. She had a faint accent. He'd noticed it in class, the way her answers were inflected with a lilt that Crestview didn't have.

"Tam Linn!" she called again. "Hey, could I talk to you?"

He turned around. She was standing on the steps outside the school doors, her pale hair shining in the afternoon sunlight.

"What?" he said. Why would Jennet Carter want to talk to him?

She moved toward him, her expression cautious.

"Hi." She tried a smile. It faded when he didn't smile back. "Right. Well. I hear you're a simmer."

"Yeah."

His tournament win was common knowledge. The fact that his prize system was tapped into the 'net - that was secret. He wasn't about to get all chatty with anyone about his gaming, let alone a Viewer.

"So... you're a pretty good player, right?" she asked.

He narrowed his eyes. "How am I supposed to answer that?"

If he told the truth, he'd come across as bragging. If he didn't, he'd sound like a loser.

"Honestly." She gave him a measuring look and he tried not to notice how having her gaze on him made that restless feeling start up again under his skin.

Okay then. "Yeah, I'm good."

She hitched her bag up on her shoulder. "Best simmer in town?"

"What is this?" Annoyance heated his words. "You have some assignment to interview another student or something?"

"No. I was just... wondering."

Nosy rich girl. Still, a part of him - a stupid, doglike part - was flattered that she was interested. That part was sitting up, wagging its tail and ready to do anything for a word of praise from those soft lips.

So he turned his back on her and started walking away.

"Wait!" She came after him and caught his arm. "Please tell me."

The vulnerability in her expression made him pause. Made him answer, despite himself.

"I'm the best simmer in the tri-states, actually. Happy? Now let go."

She did, and he felt the absence of her touch almost as keenly as he'd felt the warmth of it.

"Could I..." She looked down at her hands, then back up at him. "Could I watch you game sometime?"

He pushed his hair out of his face, so he could see every nuance of her expression. "You've seen people sim before, haven't you?" The high-tech world she was from, she must have.

"Of course!" She looked offended for a second, and it made him smile a little bit inside, to see emotion blazing like that from her eyes. "I play, too, you know."

On equipment that he didn't even want to try and imagine, or jealousy would eat right through him.

"I don't doubt it. Are you trying to ask me out or something?"

She blinked, and he caught the flash of disbelief in her eyes before she spoke. "Ask you out? No. I'm not."

"Good." Relief and disappointment circled in his stomach. He turned to go.

"Hold on a sec." There was an edge of desperation in her voice. "I _do_ want to see you game. Just... let me explain."

He folded his arms and waited.

She was silent a minute, and a bubble of stillness dropped down over them. There was a tickle on the back of his neck, like what she was about to say was important. Beyond important.

"All right." She let out a breath. "Here's the thing. My dad's one of the senior managers for VirtuMax. He's been working on their new sim system. Maybe you've heard about it."

"Yeah. I've heard of it."

He tried not to show how her words had sent a jolt of interest through him. Her dad worked on the full simulation project? How much did she know?

"Full-D, they call it. And there's a new game to go with it. Has to be, to show what the system can do. It's like nothing else out there."

"You've, uh, seen this new game?" His heart thudded in his chest like he'd been sprinting down the street, not standing in one place for three minutes.

She nodded. "Yes. In fact, I've been playing it and... well, I need help."

"It's in beta-testing? Why don't you get your dad or one of the other devs to help?"

He thought he knew the answer though, and anticipation sizzled through him, burning away his jealousy, his resentment of the rich kids in the View. Was she going to ask _him_ to play?

"Pre-beta, even. Basically..." She bit her lip and glanced to one side. "I can't ask them for help. I'm not even supposed to know that this version of Feyland exists, let alone go in-game. But I can't stop."

He nodded. Games could get inside your skin and become the most important thing in the world - at least for a little while. It always wore off though. And simming didn't keep his little brother out of trouble, or scavenge food from behind the grocery store, or help his mom when she finally came home after one of her episodes.

But a new game, on a brand-new sim - his fingers tingled at the thought. And Jennet wanted to see what he could do. Check out his cred, like some kind of audition.

"When do you want to watch me play?" He glanced down at his scuffed boots and tried to sound casual. "We could go over to Zeg's simcafe--"

"No. I want to see you play on your own gear."

He wished, for a gut-searing moment, that he didn't have the life he did - that he could wave his hand and call a grav-car and they could drive to his house, a real house, full of good things to eat and shiny equipment.

And they could game. With a legal account, not his 'jacked connection. On a system that wasn't half broken, in a place that wasn't falling down, in a neighborhood that hadn't turned to rot long ago.

"I have to go." He turned and started walking again.

She followed. "But - you do have a sim-system, right? I heard you won a great rig. I want to see you in your home element. At your best."

"I don't think so." He hunched his shoulders. His home was none of her business. "I'll see you around."

It was stupid, to think he could connect with someone like Jennet. They had nothing in common. No matter how attractive her world was, or how much he might want it, he didn't belong there. Just like she didn't belong in his. The thought of taking her into the Exe, showing her where he lived, revealing his secrets... just, no.

"Wait." Something trembled in her voice - hope or tears. It didn't matter.

Tam shoved his hands into his pockets and kept going. He had long-since perfected the art of walking away.

CHAPTER SIX

Jennet watched Tam march off the school grounds, and desperation clawed itself up out of her throat. She _needed_ him. Needed to see him play, needed his help.

Now that she'd maybe found the one person in Crestview who could sim, she couldn't let him get away.

So she followed him, keeping a block behind and sticking to the shadows. He didn't look back, not once. Still, it wasn't easy. He zigzagged through smelly alleys, and went over a fence that smeared her white shirt with grime. Sweat prickled on her skin, but she couldn't lose sight of him. She had to see him play.

Maybe he wasn't all that good. But even if he was poor and lived in a bad part of town, at least he wasn't a complete idiot like that guy Fernald. And she was out of options.

The buildings around her were increasingly run-down, and the air smelled like old garbage. Were there rats here? Tam dodged down an alleyway and she followed, watching where she stepped. When she looked up again, he was gone.

The air felt colder, darker, and a shiver raked across the back of her neck. A rustling noise sounded behind her and she whirled, heartbeat spiking.

Nothing there.

Okay. Relax. She pulled in a breath of rot-flavored air. He'd be around the next corner. Surely he would. The shaky feeling taking over her legs didn't believe her, but she forced herself to move. One step, then another.

The alley intersected a deserted street. There was no sign of Tam. She swallowed. Time to call George. He'd come with the grav-car to get her right away, no matter where she was. There'd be some explaining to do, since she'd told him she was staying after school for a study club - but staying lost in the outskirts of the Exe seemed like a really bad idea.

She backed into an alcove and fished around in her satchel, trying to ignore the things squishing under her feet.

From out of nowhere, a hand grabbed her arm. She shrieked and tried to pull away, punching wildly with her free fist, while fear opened a dark hole under her feet.

"Shh." It was Tam. He grasped her other arm, keeping her from connecting with his face. "Calm down."

She took a gasping breath. "Tam - you scared me!"

"Why'd you follow me? That's a stupid thing to do. Especially here." He kept hold of her arms, but she didn't feel threatened by how close he was. Despite the fear still echoing through her, she felt oddly safe.

"I told you," she said. "I need to see you game - see if you're good enough to play Feyland."

He let go of her and took a step back. "And if I'm not?"

"I think you are."

He had to be. He was the best chance she had. Her last chance to get back in-game and win free of the Dark Queen.

For a long minute they stood there, the smell of garbage wafting around them. Tam stared past her at the crumbling, graffiti-etched wall. Then he shook his head.

"No," he said. "Come on, I'll take you back to school. You don't belong here."

"I'm not going anywhere." She glared at him. "Except your place."

"Damn it, I'm not--" He broke off and held up one hand, his whole body going tense.

His nostrils flared and he cocked his head, listening. To what? Fear shivered through her.

He leaned forward and spoke in a barely audible voice. "We need to get out of here. Now. No questions. Follow close."

"Okay," she whispered. Her skin prickled, like somebody was watching them.

Tam led them down the alley. He moved silently, carefully, like some wild creature used to danger. She stayed right behind him, doing her best to be quiet. But despite her care, her shoe knocked against an old can. It teetered for one tense second, then tipped, clanging and rolling along the cracked pavement.

Calls erupted behind them, yips and crazy laughter. Tam grabbed her arm and hauled her forward. "Run!"

Panic powered her steps and her breath rasped in her throat. She didn't dare look behind them. Tam dodged and turned, leading her through a series of broken-down buildings, cutting through weedy lots. The noise of pursuit faded, and finally he slowed.

"I... have to... rest," she panted. She felt like a knife was stabbing into her side, sliding between her ribs, over and over.

He slanted a look around the dingy street they were on, then led her toward an abandoned building.

"Alright. In here." He ducked beneath a door hanging crookedly by one hinge. "We should be safe - they usually don't go much outside their territory."

"They?" She clasped her hands tightly to make them stop shaking, and concentrated on getting air back into her lungs.

"The Jackals - local gang. Good thing they didn't get a closer look at you, or we'd still be running. There's a black-market demand for wrist chips, and they wouldn't be gentle about taking it out. They have knives."

She pulled her wrist against her body. "That's... horrible." Would the gang really have taken a blade to her flesh and cut her chip out? She shuddered.

"Welcome to the Exe." There was a flash of sympathy in his eyes.

"Nice place."

All told, she preferred the dark places in Feyland. Though with his real-life skills, she had no doubt Tam would be great in-game, too.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

She drew in a deep breath, let it out. Disappointment curled cold in her belly, but he'd made his point. She was in danger here, and it was better for both of them if she left. She'd have to find another way to see him play.

"All right."

Steps dragging, she followed him down the street. At the next intersection, he paused. A low, liquid groaning sound, like something dying, floated down the street. Tam leaned close, his lips almost brushing her ear.

"I'll count on my fingers," he whispered. "When I hit three, run straight across - right for that alley. Don't look back."

The cold in her stomach moved up to her throat. She nodded.

He listened a moment more, then held up his hand. One finger. Two. Three.

They bolted across the street. She got a confused impression of figures clustered around an oil-can fire, and then they were in the alley. Tam put his hand on her back, silently urging her to keep going, though there didn't seem to be any outcry behind them.

What a fool she'd been, to follow him into the Exe. Good thing he'd figured out she was there, or she'd be in severe trouble. But now she was completely lost. Tam had doubled back so many times she had no idea which direction the school was. She just had to trust him, and keep following.

Finally, he stopped. "Here we are."

Jennet blinked. This wasn't Crestview High - they were still in the Exe. Cautious hope unfolded inside her. "Here?"

"Yeah. Home sweet home."

Tam tilted his head to the flat-roofed building in front of them. It looked like an abandoned mechanic shop, with rickety exterior stairs going up the side. On the roof was a smaller box - a little apartment maybe, repaired with old boards and pieces of salvaged metal. At least there were windows, though a blue tarp covered most of the roof.

Jennet blinked. "This is where you live? I thought you didn't want me to--"

"I didn't have much choice. The Jackals were between us and school." Unhappiness edged his voice. He turned to her, his mouth grim. "Do _not_ say a word about my place. Ok? Nothing."

She nodded, swallowing back the questions crowding the tip of her tongue. The fact that he'd brought her here at all - that was key. She tried not to glance up at the shack on the roof. It looked like it could fall down in the next big storm.

Ignoring the stairs, he led her around the building and unlocked a big metal door in back. It scraped open across the concrete floor with a low groan. Inside, the single huge room was dim and cold, light straggling in through high, grease-filmed windows. It smelled like old machines.

"I've got an hour til the Bug gets home," he said.

"The Bug?"

"My kid brother."

"All right. I'll call my dad's driver and--"

"No." He frowned, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of a grav-car skimming up to his front door. "The Jackals will have gone to ground by then. I'll take you back to school and you can get picked up there."

Without waiting for her agreement, he moved to the far wall and waved his hand in front of the light plate. It took three tries before the bank of fluorescents overhead flickered on. The sickly glow illuminated his sim system.

It was a newer-model Zing, though it looked like it had been used hard. The chair had a long rip across the seat, partially hidden by a lumpy pillow. Cables ran like crazed electric worms from the drive to the helmet and gloves, and silvery tape seemed to be holding half the system together.

"This is... I mean, you won this?" she asked.

"Yeah." He dipped his head, letting his hair fall back over his eyes. "Last year's tournament."

"So, you made Nationals? What was it like, playing there? Where did you rank?"

"I didn't go to Nationals." His voice was tight.

"Didn't go? But that's--"

"Something came up." He turned away from her and clicked his system on. "So. You want to see me play. Any game in particular?"

"Um..."

As far as subject changes went, that one had been pretty obvious - like a door slamming shut. All right. What game did she want to see him play?

She had originally thought WorldStar. It was the sim most like Feyland - not that any other game could compete. But now... she glanced around the grimy space that housed Tam's system. He obviously didn't have the money to buy new expansions of the popular games, or pay the access fees. She bit her lip.

What were the free sim games, anyway? She'd never paid any attention - they were inferior, crammed with ads, and usually the graphics were sub-par. Come on... think. She had to know some games. She fished around for a name, but the grating, low-pitched hum coming from Tam's system made it hard to concentrate.

"Does your drive always make that sound?" The question was out before she could reel it back in, but the noise was truly awful. It sounded like a moaning beast, with the added bonus of a teeth-gritting vibration of metal against the concrete floor.

He scowled at her. "If you don't like it, you can leave."

Heat rushed into her face. Great. She was going to ruin this. Better get to the gaming as soon as possible.

"What games do you have?" There. Nice safe question.

"Anything." He tossed the word out, casual.

"Really? Even WorldStar?"

"Yes, _even_ that. And Zombiemecca, and Ruler of Days, and--"

"Okay, okay." She swallowed back her questions. Tam had all the top games, and it was probably better if she didn't ask how he could afford them. "WorldStar is kind of like Feyland. Fantasy-based quests, you know. Battles with monsters." And queens. She shivered.

"WorldStar it is - and you don't have to sound so surprised." Tam slid into the chair and picked up his gaming helmet. "The backbone of the 'net runs through Crestview, and plenty of people know how to use it - at least in the Exe. Anyway, it's why your company is here."

"VirtuMax isn't _my_ company."

He shrugged and pulled the keyboard onto his lap, tapping out a few commands. "You'll have to watch secondhand," he said, leaning forward and flicking the battered monitor on. "I only have one helmet."

"Oh. Right." Still, even the flatscreen would give her a decent idea of his game-play.

The screen was dull, with holes in the display where pixels were stuck. There were enough, though, to see the overall picture. She was getting the feeling his whole system was that way - barely enough.

The monitor lit up with the WorldStar background. Then Tam's characters appeared, lined up along the bottom of the screen.

"Do you have a level 200?" she asked.

"A few. Do you want a caster, thief, or tank?"

She blinked. "You have a top level in each class? You must spend a lot of time playing."

"Not all that much." He slid on his worn e-gloves. "I'm efficient. So, who do you want?"

She leaned forward to scan the character portraits. A decked-out Soldier, a Shifter - no, too low level. She needed something that would push Tam to the limit.

"That one." She pointed to the Sorcerer, a tall, green-haired character without any telltale marks of superior gear. No glows hovering around him, or towering shoulder armor, or billowing capes. She didn't want this to be too easy. "Lorne?"

"It's an anagram," he said, not looking at her. He drew the helmet down over his face, and selected the character.

Jennet turned the letters around in her mind. Lorne. Loner. No kidding.

Then the game of WorldStar opened, showing the Sorcerer standing in the street of a small village. Somewhere in Dvelt Province, judging by the grassy plain that spread out beyond the mud-brick buildings.

"Where to?" Tam asked.

An ordinary spell-caster, up against... She tapped her lower lip with her fingers. "Isn't there a Guardian-class encounter near here? Some big kitty in a cave to the east?"

He let out a muffled snort. "That big kitty is called Saberclaw. People don't fight him solo. It usually takes three - _with_ a healer."

"Can you do it, or not?"

He turned his head toward her, the visor reflecting the dim light. "My least-decked character, and in a lightweight armor class, too. That's a pretty mismatched fight."

She knew it wasn't fair - but then, life wasn't. And she needed to see what he could do against nearly impossible odds. She couldn't take a complete noob into Feyland with her.

"Yeah, it is mismatched. Maybe Saberclaw needs some reinforcements. Poor kitty." It was a dumb joke, but she saw the side of his mouth twitch up a little.

"Alright then," he said. "Here we go."

Tam guided his character to the mount master, and before long, Lorne was on a gazelle-like creature, galloping east. Purple mountains loomed in the distance, and a flock of black birds swooped up from the plains like a spiral of smoke. Soon, Lorne reached the low hills.

At the edge of one canyon was a gaping shadow edged with rocks that looked like fangs. Saberclaw's cave. Bones littered the ground in front, some old and bleached, others new, with bloody hunks of meat hanging off them, evidence of a recent player's death. Would Lorne's bones join them?

A knot formed in Jennet's stomach. She folded her fingers over the back of Tam's chair and watched as he dismissed his character's mount.

Tam lifted a finger, and his Sorcerer's arms rose. Magical energy gathered in a ball of glowing light between his hands, then spread down over Lorne's figure, encasing him in a layer of invisible armor. Another wave of his hand, and potions appeared, hovering in the air before him. Blood red, glimmering orange, dark purple - without hesitation, the Sorcerer chose two, uncorked the vials, and drank.

Magical preparations complete, Lorne stepped over the litter of bones and walked to the edge of the darkness.

Truth time. Jennet held her breath as the pebble of fear in her stomach turned to a boulder. What if Tam wasn't good enough?

CHAPTER SEVEN

Tam was barely conscious of Jennet hovering behind his chair. Please, don't let his system cut out now. Jennet had set him a drastic challenge. But he _would_ win it, impossible odds or no.

He took a deep breath and focused.

There was only the faint hiss of the wind in the plains grasses, the hollow footfalls of his Sorcerer as he approached the cave to confront Saberclaw. Tam made a quick check of his inventory, making sure his oh-crap items were in place - the things he'd need to win this. Extra health potion, blinding dust, one-use spectral shield. A cloth-wearer had to have tricks like this up his sleeve to survive most scrapes. Though a solo encounter with a Guardian-class beast hardly qualified as a _scrape_. More like a severe mutilation.

For a second the graphics wavered, rippling like a heat wave. Tam froze, waiting. Come on, system - hold together. It felt like his heart stopped too, until the image stabilized again. Just in time.

In the darkness of the cave, something growled. A red flash of light showed that Saberclaw had sensed a trespasser in his lair. The attack came without warning as the enormous cat rushed forward, a mass of striped and angry death. His growl turned into a roar as the beast lunged, sharp claws extended to rake the Sorcerer's chest.

Adrenaline pumping through him, Tam waited until the last possible instant, then popped his shield. He cast an instant spell that slowed the cat a precious few milliseconds - enough time to lob a flaming ball of magefire into the cat's face. Saberclaw yowled in fury, his long teeth shining and deadly.

Tam leapt to the side, but didn't quite avoid a furious bite from those teeth. His life energy dipped and his character slowed down. Dimly, in the other world, he heard Jennet gasp. One trick gone. But he and the cat were even.

Using his mage abilities, he tried to keep his distance while still sending spells at his opponent. Not always successfully - the big cat got a few painful bites and swipes in on his character in return.

They were both around half health when Saberclaw's eyes lit with an uncanny green glow. It was the sign he was about to use his special ability - an unavoidable stun that froze his victim in place. As soon as the stun wore off, the cat would pounce and shred his enemy to bits. Tam's heart raced as his fingers gestured the next combo of moves. This had better work. It was the only thing he could think of.

He tossed the blinding powder, the bright flash distracting Saberclaw for an instant. Then... there was no avoiding this next part, no matter how much it hurt. With a pang, he summoned his favorite pet - the battle-hawk companion he'd won in a ferocious duel two years ago. The two of them had shared more adventures than he could count. But he'd have to sacrifice the hawk in order to win this fight.

"Goodbye, Bright," he murmured as he sent his pet forward to certain death.

He yanked Lorne behind one of the jagged rocks at the entrance, getting out of line-of-sight as his golden companion winged straight for Saberclaw. The hawk let out a high, pained cry as the big cat's eyes flared. Saberclaw's evil green gaze pinned Bright to the cave floor.

Tam couldn't just keep Lorne standing there - he had to make Bright's death count. He stepped back into the cave and began his longest incantation. It was his most powerful spell, a fire-lance that would blast a serious hole in his opponent.

The cat ignored Tam and leapt on Bright, yowling with joy as he began to rip the bird to pieces. The hawk let out high, piteous cries as bits of golden feathers swirled in the air. Finally, Bright lay still, his broken body trapped under Saberclaw's wicked paws.

The image blurred in front of Tam's eyes - but this time it wasn't a system problem. He blinked furiously, clearing his vision. The hollow ache in his chest from losing Bright joined all the other sorrows piled up there. Sure, it was just a game, but now he was alone. Again.

Tam swallowed. His spell tingled at his fingertips, the energy building, building...

"Now!" he shouted, flinging deadly fire at Saberclaw.

The beast lifted his snarling face just as Tam's fire-lance hit. The force of it made Saberclaw stagger, and the smell of singed fur scorched Tam's nose. But it wasn't enough. The big cat recovered quickly, too quickly, and gathered himself to leap on the Sorcerer.

:WARNING. SYSTEM OVERLOAD. AUTO-SHUTDOWN IN TEN SECONDS:

The red letters etched across Tam's vision, overriding the game's graphics.

"No," he breathed. "Not now."

Despite the reactions coursing through him, his hands remained steady in the gloves. Although it wasn't scorched fur he smelled. It was the metallic stench of burning electrical cables.

He had to finish this, and fast.

It was hard to throw incantations while taking serious damage. Every rake of claws and bite of fangs slowed Lorne's spell-casting down, while his life energy continued to drain. If it got to zero, he was dead. Tam managed to shoot another flame-blast, but his Sorcerer was in trouble. Lorne was dying - and when he did, Tam would lose.

He got another instant spell off, then grabbed his health potion. It would buy him a little more life. Enough, if he were lucky, to outlast the big cat.

:WARNING. AUTO-SHUTDOWN IN FIVE SECONDS. SAVE WORK NOW:

Yeah, not likely. Save himself. His Sorcerer popped the potion.

Saberclaw pounced, and Tam drew his dagger. No more time for casting spells. Good thing he had spent time maxing this character's weapon skills - though it went against all common sense to skill-up magic users. He only prayed Lorne would be strong enough.

Jab and rip. Slice and claw. Both Lorne and Saberclaw were almost dead. A sliver of life energy kept the Sorcerer on his feet, while the cat limped after him.

:TWO SECONDS:

Tam judged the timing and pulled his Sorcerer back, just missing a razor-sharp death swipe. Then he lunged in, the dagger piercing Saberclaw's side. With a last yowl, the big cat staggered, then collapsed in a heap of fur and claws. Lorne fell to his knees, but the Sorcerer was still alive. The battle was over.

Victory!

:SHUTDOWN:

The helmet went dark, and Tam slowly pulled it off. His mind was ultra-clear - that gaming high he got whenever he beat impossible odds.

"You did it!"

Jennet had a huge smile on her face, and her blue eyes sparkled. If he hadn't been sitting down he thought she would have thrown a big hug on him. Instead, she gripped his shoulder. Her touch was strong and warm.

"That was amazing," she continued. "I've never seen anyone think so fast on their feet. And with your system going down and everything. Just, wow."

He took a breath and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Yeah. It was a good fight."

"Good?" Her expression was full of admiration, full of light, like the sun coming out from behind clouds. "You're a prime game-player, Tam Linn."

The praise made something inside him glow, and he didn't know how to respond. It wouldn't do to get used to this feeling.

"I should get you back to school." He stood up, and her hand fell away from him, leaving only cool air behind. "My brother will be home soon, and I have to be here, or he might burn the place down."

Jennet smiled again, as if he were joking. After a few seconds her smile faded. "All right. But Feyland is going to amaze you. You'll be great at it. When can you come over to my place to sim? Tomorrow? Wednesday?"

"Maybe Thursday." If Mom showed up, and he could get her back on her meds, then there might be a chance. He shrugged, though the fierce desire to see the new sim and play Feyland was scorching through him.

"Please, I really need your help." She looked impatient, and worried. "Can't you come any earlier?"

"No." He let the word hang flatly between them.

He'd let her see his place, see him game. That was too much. No way was he going to explain the details of his life - details that would only horrify her sheltered little world-view.

"Well." A frown gathered on her face. "Let me know as soon as you can. All right?"

"Sure." He turned the still glowing flat-screen off, then shoved his hands in his pockets. When he got back, he'd be doing some major system repair. "Come on. Let's get you back to school."

CHAPTER EIGHT

The next days dragged. Jennet veered between elation that she'd finally, _finally_ , found the gamer she needed, and frustration that he couldn't play that instant.

She couldn't expect him to understand her urgency - not when she hadn't explained the problem to him. But the first step was getting him in-game. With his help, she was sure she could finally get deeper into Feyland.

During World History class on Thursday she couldn't help but sneak glances at Tam. His hair was covering his eyes, as usual, and he didn't look at her. Not once. That wasn't good. Worry squeezed her lungs tight. When the bell rang, she took an extra long time packing up her satchel. Tam lagged behind too, and her breath eased.

"Well?" she asked as he paused by her desk. "Are we on for today?" _We have to play. Please say yes._

"No." He hunched his shoulders. "Maybe next week. See ya."

"What... hey, wait up!" She reached for him as he stepped into the hallway, but he ignored her outstretched hand. He slipped into the crowd, seeming determined to get away. Disappointment raced through her as she scanned the students, trying to see which way he'd gone. How could he just leave like that?

"Don't bother going after him," said a voice at her shoulder.

Jennet turned to see Marny standing beside her. The big girl didn't look friendly - but she didn't look too mean, either.

"Hi, Marny."

The girl waved down the hall to where Tam had disappeared. "Tam's like that. He doesn't explain things, so don't even ask."

Jennet folded her arms. "Why do you think I would ask him something, anyway?"

"Oh please." Marny flicked her gaze up to the ceiling, then back to Jennet. "Obviously you've talked to him. Besides, he told me about you, too."

Surprise jolted through her. "He did? What did he say?"

"Not much." A look of irritation crossed Marny's round face. "Even for Tam, he was remarkably quiet. I hope you're not just messing with him."

"I wouldn't--"

"Good." Marny leaned forward. "The two of us go way back, and if you hurt him, you'll be hurting too."

"Okay." Jennet held up her hands. "Message received. Are the two of you... umm, together?"

"No. Nothing like that. But he's a good guy, and I don't want to see some rich girl screwing with his head just because she can."

"How do you know he's not screwing with mine?" She was going to be late for her next class, but she didn't care. "How come he can't make plans? What's wrong with him, anyway?"

"Hey." Marny's voice grew softer. "He's got it rough. I bet he didn't tell you about his mom."

"All I know is he has a little brother." And lived in a falling down shack in the worst part of town. And was a flawless gamer.

"Well, it's his life. He can tell you if he wants. But it's complicated."

Like anyone's life was simple. A piece of her soul was trapped in a computer game and it was literally killing her. How was _that_ for complicated?

There had to be some way to make this work - some way to break Tam free from his life for at least an afternoon. He had to come over and play Feyland on the Full-D. She had to get back in-game, before it was too late.

She looked at Marny. "Do you ever... babysit?"

"No." Marny's eyes widened. "No way. I am not watching that crazy kid brother of his so the two of you can go mess around together."

Heat rushed into Jennet's cheeks. "I'm not interested in him like that."

"Well, you're interested somehow."

Jennet opened her hands. "There's stuff I can't explain, either."

"Ah. Are you sure you don't have some kind of pervy fixation?" Speculation flashed in Marny's dark brown eyes. "Those questions. About gaming. Why did you ask _me_?"

"I figured you pay attention."

"Really." Marny's expression hardened. "Why's that?"

"For one thing, you seemed like the smartest person in the Gaming Club. And you're different."

Marny's mouth twisted. "Different. That's not quite a compliment."

"Well, it's not an insult, either." Jennet glanced down the hall, where the parade of look-alike students was starting to thin out. "Especially at Crestview."

"Heh." A half-smile ghosted across Marny's face. "I--" The blare of the second bell cut through whatever she had been about to say. She hefted her battered purple backpack onto her shoulder. "Gotta run. See you later, Fancy-girl."

The way she said the words, they weren't quite an insult, either. There had been an undercurrent of approval in the big girl's voice. Maybe, just maybe....

Marny stopped partway down the hall and swung around. She pointed at Jennet. "I'm not making any promises. But - make sure you're free tomorrow after school."

CHAPTER NINE

Tam couldn't believe it. The clamor of the lunchroom faded as he blinked at Marny. "Really? You'll watch the Bug this afternoon so I can go to Jennet's? That's the nicest--"

"Shut up, or I'll take my offer back. And it's only the once, clear?" She made a face. "If your little brother gets too crazy, I'm calling the cops."

As if the police would come out to the Exe for anything less than murder. Maybe not even then.

"Ok." Tam fished in his pack for the emergency cash he kept tucked away. He held the money out to Marny. "You'll need this."

"I'm not taking your money!" She sounded offended. "Do you think I look like a babysitter? I'm doing this out of friendship."

"I know." He waved the cash. "But you're going to need to get some stuff at the store to keep the Bug occupied. Sugar Crunchies - the big box. And the new Manza-boy comic."

"That had better work." She took the money. "I have to be home by six, though. So whatever it is you and Miss Fancy-girl are up to, be done by then. And Tam," her expression softened, "be careful, right?"

"Hey. It's not like I'm going to go rob a bank or anything. She's just showing me a new sim-system."

"She says."

"I don't think she's lying." He didn't think Jennet's appreciation for his game-playing had been faked, either.

Marny narrowed her eyes at him. "Something else is going on, Tam. There's something not normal about this."

"What, that one of _them_ would want to spend time with me?" That stung, though it wasn't anything he hadn't thought before. Jennet's interest was hard to explain. Except that it had something to do with gaming, the one thing he was really good at. "Don't worry, I can take care of myself."

"I know." Her lips pulled into a frown. "Just - pay attention."

"I always do."

It was hard not to be overwhelmed as he slid into Jennet's chauffeured grav-car after school. The interior smelled like status and money, and the seats were more comfortable than his own bed. Tam glanced over the divider as the chauffeur manipulated the shiny controls on the dash. How would it feel to drive this thing, to glide, frictionless, over the gridded roads?

"Here." Jennet settled beside him and held out a shiny plastic card attached to a clip. "Your visitor's badge. You'll have to wear it in The View, so the sensors don't go off."

"Nice." He took it, the holograph of VirtuMax's company logo shimmering as it caught the light.

Of course, there had to be a system to let the peons in. Cleaning and maintenance people had to have controlled access to the rich people's world, after all. He took a pinch of his shirt and attached the badge. It hung crooked, but he didn't care.

He glanced at Jennet, who looked a bit embarrassed. Maybe it was the first time she'd had to provide one of her 'friends' with an access badge.

"It's good for two weeks," she said. "I got you a long pass, just in case. Although I need to be with you while you're inside the walls, since it's got a low security clearance."

"Yeah. Wouldn't want to set off any alarms." He felt like a sheep. A criminal one.

She cleared her throat and went for an obvious change of subject. "Anyway, I'm glad you could come today. Marny is a pearl."

"I wouldn't call her that. But yeah."

The car was moving so smoothly, Tam felt like they were standing still. He glanced out the window, just to check. The neighborhood they were going through was about a hundred times cleaner than the Exe. No falling-down buildings or trash lining the streets. People here even had green lawns with neatly-trimmed bushes instead of scrappy, bare dirt where not even weeds grew.

"Here we are," Jennet said as the car whished under a gleaming plas-metal arch. The company logo gleamed under the words proudly etched in the arch. _The View_.

"Is there one?" Tam turned to look out the back window as they passed through.

The archway of the View framed the cloudy sky - nothing special. The buildings scrolling past were huge and pristine, but the neighborhood felt eerie. It took a moment for him to identify why. There was no one in sight. No little kids playing on the perfectly groomed lawns. No lanky teens shooting hoops or riding g-boards. Not a single person. It was emptier than a computer game, where at least the NPCs were always there, moving around and making the world look occupied.

"A view?" Jennet asked. "Yes. The houses in the back have one. You'll see." She picked up her satchel and looked out the window in an expectant way.

Tam grabbed his pack as the car slid to a perfect stop and the door hissed open. Even the air in The View seemed different. Cleaner. Fresher. He followed Jennet out of the car, then stuck his head back in.

"Thanks for the ride," he told the chauffeur. The man looked mildly startled, and then gave him a nod.

"Yes, thanks, George," Jennet said, an undertone of excitement in her voice. "Come on, Tam. I can hardly wait to show you the set-up. This way."

As if there could be any other way than the wide stone path leading to the fanciest house Tam had ever seen. No, not a house. A mansion. The place was four stories high, with balconies that jutted out on the upper levels and dozens of windows. There was even a fountain in the front, a lit-up sparkle and cascade of water. It looked like something from a mall.

Jennet held her wrist up to the front door and it opened with a soft chime. She threw a glance over her shoulder, and Tam hurried to follow her.

_"Welcome home, Jennet,"_ a perfectly modulated female voice said as they stepped over the threshold. _"You have brought a visitor. Staff has been notified."_

"Right," Jennet said. "Let Marie know we'll be up in the game-room."

_"Confirmed."_

Tam looked around, trying to be nonchalant. The warmly-lit foyer was empty, except for the two of them. "Is that... your house computer?"

He'd heard of fully-wired houses, but never imagined what it might be like to actually live in one. It was interesting - and creepy. Jennet didn't stand much chance of sneaking out at night, did she?

"Yes," she said. "Dad calls the computer HANA - House Activated Network Assistant." She set her satchel on the floor and started up the wide stairs.

"Who's Marie?" Tam trailed after her. He was afraid to touch anything in this pristine, clean-smelling place. Half-turning, he checked to make sure he wasn't leaving grimy footprints on the pale carpet.

"Marie's the house manager. She makes sure that everything is working smoothly, meals are done on time, that kind of thing."

"How big is your family?" He knew almost nothing about Jennet's life. Then again, she knew almost nothing about his, either, and he was happy to keep it that way.

"It's just me and my dad," Jennet said. "My mom left when I was a kid." Her words rang hollowly in the quiet corridor. All the doors were closed, except the tall double-doors at the end.

Really? A fully-wired house and a 'manager' just for Jennet and her Dad. Good thing she hadn't seen his sorry house - the living room that doubled as bedroom for both him and the Bug, the scrappy furniture, the tiny kitchen. The distance between his house and Jennet's felt like the distance between galaxies. And just as unbridgeable. The only thing that kept him from turning around and going back to the Exe was the enticing promise of the Full-D system.

She led him through, then shut the doors behind them. "Here we are - the gaming room. Complete with Full-D."

Tam's feet stopped moving. He was dimly aware of other sim systems in the room, a bank of screens against the far wall, but all he could do was blink at the simulator right in front of him. Wait - the _two_ simulators.

The helmets gleamed silver. The chairs were wide and comfortable, upholstered in something that was probably real leather. The gloves were studded with LEDs that shone like jewels.

"Yeah." The word escaped from between his lips.

"So." Jennet's voice dropped to a whisper and she pushed at the plush carpet with one foot. "Don't tell anybody about this, okay?"

He pulled his gaze from the sim-systems, trying to ignore the stab of hurt lancing through him. Of course she wouldn't want people to know that he'd been invited over. Trash from the Exe sullying her perfect house.

"What, that I came to your house?" The words left a sour taste in his mouth. "I hadn't planned on it."

"No, no. I mean, don't tell anybody about the Full-D system. Nobody except corporate is supposed to see it. And..." she stepped closer to him, " _nobody_ is supposed to know about Feyland. Not even me. All right?"

Her blue eyes stared into his, pleading, and his heartbeat was suddenly louder in his ears. "I won't tell."

"Not even Marny."

"Ok. She's not interested in simming anyway."

Jennet nodded and the urgency in her eyes faded. "Then come take a look."

Tam stepped up to the systems. He slid his fingers over the top of one helmet, the plas-metal cool and smooth under his touch. Excitement began shooting through his nerves like crazy firecrackers. He hoped Jennet couldn't tell how sparked he was.

The Full-D system. Here, real, and within his reach.

"See this?" She flipped a switch beside the systems, and a low buzz filled the air.

"What is it?"

"The scrambler. To make sure no corporate spies - or hackbots - can tell what's going on in here."

"That's..." totally insane. But apparently not, since here it was.

Tam picked up one of the gloves. It felt heavy and expensive in his hand. He could hardly wait to see what the game was like. Feyland. The syllables rolled silently down his tongue.

"Miss Jennet?" There was a knock, and then the door to the hallway swung open to reveal a dark-haired woman in a suit. She was holding a tray of food. "I brought you some sandwiches."

"Oh, hi, Marie. Thanks," Jennet said, her voice pitched higher than usual. She gave Tam a look he couldn't decipher.

He put the glove down, and silence settled awkwardly in the spaces between them as Marie put the tray on a nearby table.

She turned and raised her eyebrows at Jennet. "You have brought home a guest?"

"Um, yes," Jennet said. "This is Tam. From school. He likes to game, so I thought I'd give him a peek at the Full-D."

The woman pinned Tam with her gaze. She looked down at his battered boots, then back up, taking in every rip and fray in his secondhand clothing. The suspicion in her eyes only deepened, like she expected him to pull a tab of spray out of his back pocket and start tagging the nearest wall.

"I see." Her voice was clipped, with an accent he couldn't identify. "If he is going to be a regular visitor, we'll need to run a thorough security clearance."

Jennet turned wide eyes to him, as if she feared he had a criminal record just waiting to be discovered. "Oh! Well, I'm sure--"

"No problem." Tam stepped forward. "Do you need fingerprints or something?"

He knew he was clean. Taking care of Mom and the Bug didn't leave much time for getting wild, even if he leaned that way. And yeah, he'd broken the law before, out of necessity - but in the Exe the rules didn't matter. Only survival. And not getting caught. He was good at both.

The house manager flicked her gaze up to his face. "That would be best. Fingerprints."

"How about later," Jennet said, with a too-bright smile. "It can wait til next time, right?"

Marie's eyebrows gathered into a frown, but she nodded. "Very well. I will be downstairs. Tell HANA if there is anything more you need." She stepped into the hallway and gave Tam one last, skeptical look before closing the door behind her.

"Whew." Jennet rolled her eyes. "I didn't expect Marie herself. Usually one of the maids brings up snacks."

One of the maids? He couldn't imagine. "Obviously she wanted to see what kind of spoilage you're bringing home."

As if it wasn't obvious. The Exe clung to him, a grungy cloud there was no escaping. Even if his boots had been clean and his hair neatly cut, he couldn't get away from it, from who he was.

Except in-game. He shot a glance at the Full-D systems, anticipation curling and uncurling through him again.

"You're not spoilage," Jennet said. Then she tilted her head, giving him a long, level look. "I think you're fine how you are."

A tiny flame of a smile warmed him inside, though he tried not to let it show. "Ok, then. Let's play."

She went to the door and turned the lock with a decisive click, then grabbed a couple sandwiches off the tray. "Here. Marie gets mad if her food isn't eaten."

"I'd hate to see what she's like mad." Regular Marie had been bad enough.

He took a big bite of sandwich - real meat, and crisp, fresh lettuce instead of Vegipro. It tasted great, and he never turned down free food.

"Finish that up and grab a brownie," Jennet said. "I'll get us ready. There's a sink in the corner when you're done snacking."

The quiet hum of the Full-D systems vibrated the air. Tam bolted down a brownie, taking a second to savor the rich chocolate on his tongue, then went to wipe his hands. He didn't want to get smears on the shiny equipment, after all.

"Ready." So ready.

He felt like a kid on his birthday, with a million presents waiting, all wrapped in glittery paper. In one minute he was going to tear into them, and each one would be exactly what he'd wanted.

"Come on, then." Jennet settled into one of the chairs. She gave him a smile that trembled at the edges, then slid on her gloves. "Gear up. When you get to the main screen, it's the F icon from the menu. I'll see you in there!" The helmet's visor covered her smile, dimming it from bright noon to moonlight.

Tam eased into the chair. It welcomed him with a soft and comfortable embrace. He pulled on the helmet and slipped his hands into the gloves. Excitement filled his lungs, thick and sweet, like honey.

Game time.

CHAPTER TEN

The game helmet was like wearing air - so comfortable, he barely felt it. Tam let out his breath as the main menu lit up in front of his eyes. The resolution was about a hundred times clearer than on his system. No fuzzy graphics, no weird color shifts or lines across his vision. It felt like the images were inside his brain.

The F icon glowed, softly golden, looking like it was made of scrolled flame. It took only the slightest flex of his finger to select it. These gloves were prime. Super responsive - nothing like his thrashed-out gear. The menu faded out, replaced with blinking words:

_Feyland: A VirtuMax Production_

_Alpha 1.5.0486_

This was going to be incredible.

The visor-screen went dark. Faint music began playing, mysterious and chiming. Light slowly etched across his vision, a delicate tracery like webs or tree branches. He hoped, rather desperately, that this wasn't one of those girly games. But if Jennet needed his help, he'd do his best - even if it meant defeating sparkly pink dragons.

WELCOME TO FEYLAND

The words unfurled across the screen. The letters glowed a rich gold that deepened to crimson, then faded to grey, as though they had burned down to ash. The music twisted, and the dim letters suddenly whirled up into a flurry of dark-edged leaves. Behind them Tam thought he saw a pair of eyes watching from the shadows, but before he could be sure, the leaves swirled once again. This time, the screen cleared to show something much more familiar: a character-creator interface.

"Have you made your avatar yet?" Jennet's voice came clearly through the headset. It sounded like she was standing right next to him.

"Just about to." He studied the choices, trying to get a feel for the game's design, the various roles people could play. Was Feyland really going to be as different as he hoped?

Spellweaver - no, not another magic user.

Bard - interesting, but obviously not a heavy combat class. He figured Jennet would need a serious warrior-type.

"Got any thoughts on this?" he asked.

"How about a Knight?" she replied, confirming his guess.

Lifting his index finger, he highlighted the choice.

KNIGHT - _Skilled at feats of arms, noble, courageous, and true, the Knight can best almost any enemy in battle. Only magic can bring this hero to his knees - but even then, the Knight's sword may prove of greater power._

Below the description stood a basic character, ready to be modified to his specifications. He scrolled through the options, adding more detail to the avatar. His Knight would be tall, of course, and strong. But not bulging with too much muscle - quickness could usually beat strength, if there was room to move. Thick dark hair, and, yeah, that heroic-looking chin. Blue eyes, but not quite that close together. With another flick of his finger, he put the final touches on his new self.

The character bounced slightly up and down, and Tam smiled to himself. Now for a name. Roland? No, that seemed too stuffy. He needed another anagram. Wernin? Newrin - yeah.

He double-clicked his thumb and index finger, the universal glove command to bring up the keyboard. Though he preferred voice and finger commands, he could type well enough when he had to. He entered the name, Newrin, then vanished the keyboard interface. Yes, his Knight looked good, clad in shiny silver armor with a huge sword at his side and a grim-looking shield strapped to his back.

_Character complete. Enter game?_

He pulled in a breath, then tipped his thumb up. _Yes_.

A fanfare of trumpets blared as his vision went golden. There was an odd, queasy sensation in the pit of his stomach. The sandwich and brownie weren't sitting too well.

Then all discomfort was forgotten as Tam got his first glimpse of Feyland.

He found himself standing in a clearing surrounded by white-barked trees. The sky was bright blue overhead, the grass a vivid green. Wind moved across the leaves of the trees, leaving flashes of shimmering silver as they rustled in its wake. A bird swooped past him, singing, and he could practically feel the warm air against his face. He glanced around, looking for Jennet, and saw he was in the middle of a circle of pale mushrooms.

Beside him, the air glowed brightly, and Jennet suddenly appeared. She was wearing a green dress that looked like something from the Middle Ages, but fancier. Her hair was intricately braided, and she carried a tall oaken staff with a white glowing crystal set in the end. Other than that she looked almost exactly like herself - her features a touch sharper, her eyes brighter.

"We're in!" She smiled at him. "Welcome to the game, Tam. What do you think?"

"I'm not sure." He took an experimental step forward.

"Careful! Don't crush the fairy ring."

"The - oh." He eyed the mushrooms surrounding them. "Ok. How do you change the camera angle to a different POV? I'm not used to gaming in first person."

An anxious line appeared across her forehead. "I should have explained. You stay in your character - it's part of the immersive experience. The designers decided you should always see through your character's eyes, hear through their ears - and feel," she reached out and brushed her fingers across his cheek, "what your character feels."

"I think I actually felt that." He moved his shoulders. The armor weighed practically nothing, but he could still feel it. Could feel the wind, too, tickling through his hair. "Those are some serious advances in game tech."

Her gaze dropped to the rich green grass beneath their feet. "Yes. I told you it was different from anything you've ever played. But don't worry. The devs made sure to dial the uncomfortable stuff way back. You won't feel much pain here."

"I just wanted to see myself. Check out my gear and stuff."

"Of course. You can draw your sword and enter combat stance by--" She broke off, laughing, as he found the control movement before she could explain. "Very good." There was admiration in her voice, and something that sounded like hope.

"It's just a pull-back. Easy enough."

He swished the sword through the air a few times, and then re-sheathed it. His shield had immediately appeared, strapped to his left arm, as soon as his weapon was drawn.

She cocked her head and examined him a moment. "Hey, I didn't know you had green eyes. Your hair is always in your face, you know."

"Huh. I thought I chose blue." Hadn't he? He was sure of it.

"Well, the game still has some bugs. You could say it has a mind of its own." She laughed again, but there was a forced edge to it. "Ready to quest? As soon as we step out of the fairy ring, the creatures of the world will be able to interact with us. The starting lands are pretty easy to handle, though. And you'll pick it up quickly, I'm sure."

"Great. Let's go." He took a step forward then, for fun, leaped over the boundary of mushrooms.

This gaming system was really amazing. He no sooner thought of the movement than the sim translated it to his character. There must be some kind of complicated neuro-interface built into the gear. Every other system he'd played had a response-time lag. With his own, he had to rely a lot more on manual commands - specific combinations of hand and finger gestures that sent instructions to the game. This, though, was practically powered by thought alone. It made him giddy.

Jennet stepped out of the ring, her movements graceful, then waved to a mossy path leading between the trees.

"The game begins this way," she said, starting down the path.

Branches rustled behind them, and Tam whirled, sword at the ready. Nobody was visible, but high laughter chimed from between the leaves.

"Who's there?" he called.

"It's just the pixies," Jennet said. "Don't worry about them - they're harmless. Come on."

Tam sheathed his weapon and followed Jennet between the pale tree trunks. Soon the forest thinned and beyond the tree-line he glimpsed a rise of small green hills. At the very edge of the wood was a house, one of those English-cottage looking places with white walls and a thatched roof. Sitting on the doorstep was the ugliest little man Tam had ever seen.

His nose was enormous, a jutting cliff that overshadowed his dark eyes and thin lips. The only things larger than his nose were his two ears, great ugly flaps of skin on either side of his head. He was covered in a pelt of coarse brown hair, his only clothing a tattered cloth tied about his waist. He smelled, too, like moldy earth and old wood-smoke.

Jennet stopped in front of the creature. A clay bowl filled with what looked like milk appeared between her hands, and she knelt and placed it on the weathered step.

"Greetings, Fynnod," she said. Then she leaned toward Tam and spoke softly. "He's a Brownie - they like milk. I'll try and explain the game lore to you as we go along."

Tam nodded. "Right."

"Fair Jennet." The little man's voice was hoarse, as though he were unused to speaking. "You return - with a companion. Will you continue further into the realm?"

"Yes," she said.

Fynnod tilted his head up and looked at Tam. Something murky moved in his eyes. "Knight. Are you brave enough to accept the first quest?"

"Sure," Tam said.

Every game had its beginner quests. Generally they were pretty easy. They started a storyline, and gave you a chance to practice your abilities and get comfortable in your new surroundings.

The brown man remained silent, and Jennet cleared her throat. When Tam turned to look at her, she nodded her head up and down and mouthed the word _yes_. Oh, right - a role-playing script. RP wasn't his favorite, but it looked like "sure" hadn't been coded into Fynnod's list of acceptable replies.

"Yes, I accept your quest," Tam said.

The little man let out a cackle. "Very good." He reached into a lumpy bag beside him. "Take this sieve, and fill it with water from the river. When you return it to me, I will grant you passage to the next level."

Tam took the object from the Brownie. It looked like an old-fashioned strainer. "Fill this with water, huh?"

Well, he'd had odder quests, but he'd hoped this first one would involve fighting. He really wanted to try out his moves.

Suddenly the sieve disappeared and his sword was in his hand, the blade flashing in the sunshine.

"Ack!" Fynnod leaped up from the step, overturning the bowl in his haste. "Take your cold iron and be gone from me!" He shook his fist at Tam, and then scuttled into the cottage.

"Wait. You didn't drink your milk--" Jennet said, but the heavy wooden door slammed shut on her words. "Tam." She turned to him. "You need to be careful. Remember, the game responds to the slightest movements. Were you thinking about battle?"

"Yeah, sorry." He re-sheathed his weapon. "I didn't mean to frighten him."

She frowned. "A lot of the creatures here don't like iron or steel - your sword affects things just by being drawn."

"Got it. Easy on the swordplay." He gestured to the closed door. "Will he be back?"

"No. Not until we return with the quest complete." She bit her lip. "I haven't actually done this one before."

"And the milk?" He glanced at the doorstep. The liquid had seeped into the stone, leaving a dark stain. "Was that bad?"

Jennet didn't look too happy. "We were supposed to get Fynnod's blessing. Without it... I'm not sure what will happen."

She turned to look out over the green hills, and Tam stared at the cottage. He hated feeling like he'd messed things up already. Here he was, usually a prime gamer, and he'd screwed up the first quest. Nice going.

The breeze kicked up, and he turned to look at Jennet. A strand of her pale hair blew against her cheek. From now on he was going to do his best. He wanted to impress her. Wanted her to smile at him again, the way she had when he'd beat Saberclaw, so he could carry the warmth of that inside himself for a little while.

A dark shadow crawled over the landscape, dimming the sunlight. He peered at the hills. Something was coming toward them - fast.

"Tam?" Jennet sounded scared. "We've got company."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The thing in the shadows became clear as it got closer - a huge black horse, galloping toward them. On its back was a forbidding-looking knight, wearing armor as dark as his steed. A wicked helm concealed the rider's face.

Pulse quickening, Tam set his hand on the hilt of his sword. "First fight?"

Not a pleasant thought - he would feel better if he'd had at least some experience with combat in the game. Frightening the hairy man with his blade didn't count.

Jennet shifted her grasp on the staff. Her cheeks were pale. "The Black Knight. He... he shouldn't be here. Usually he's much deeper in the game."

"That sounds bad." He squinted at the approaching rider. "What's that, in front of the saddle?"

There was a small figure perched on the horse's neck, seemingly unafraid of either its precarious position or the imposing knight just behind. As they drew close, the creature scrambled forward, using fistfuls of mane to pull himself up until he was nearly standing on the horse's head.

The thundering of hooves ceased as the Black Knight brought his mount to a halt directly in front of them. The spritely creature riding in front lifted one stick-like arm in a wave, the gossamer tatters of his clothing following the movement.

"Well met, Fair Jennet," he said in a clear, high voice. He grinned at them from his vantage point, his brown eyes sparkling. "And to this brave yet untried champion. Greetings, Tamlin."

Tam blinked up at the creature. "It's, er, Newrin."

Wasn't it? Seemed like the character creation in this game was badly bugged. That's what he got for playing the beta version. Still, it was very weird that the little creature addressed him by name.

"Well met, Puck." Jennet made a small curtsey, but Tam could see her hands trembling. "What brings you so far from the pleasures of court?"

The sprite folded his arms. "The queen desires to know who has entered the realm. I come with a message - and a warning."

Behind Puck, the knight sat motionless, as though he were an inanimate object. It was eerie. Usually the devs built in some kind of movement to in-game characters. Maybe they had missed coding this one.

"What message does the queen have for us?" Jennet asked, her voice higher-pitched than usual.

Tam was glad to let her do the talking - she knew the rules, after all. It was good to get a bit of the storyline, even though it seemed disjointed. Was this queen the final boss they would have to defeat to win the game?

"She bids you remember that the realm does not give up its secrets lightly." Puck leaped, making a sudden somersault from the horse's head, and caught the top of Jennet's staff. He clung there, hovering before them, and lowered his impish voice. "It is never simple to regain what was lost."

"I know." Jennet sounded way more unhappy than Tam would have expected from a bit of scripted dialogue. "Tell the queen I have come for what is mine."

She shook her staff, as if to dislodge the sprite, and Puck frowned at her. "Your champion still must prove himself, foolish Jennet."

"He will," she said, sending Tam an anxious look.

"Ha!" The sprite laughed, and the sound sent prickles down the back of Tam's neck. "Then he may do so this instant. Black Knight, I summon thee to battle!"

There was a blur of motion, and suddenly the Black Knight was standing before them, menace emanating from his faceless visor. His black sword hissed out of the sheath, and Tam leaped forward, making sure he was between Jennet and the knight. He drew his own weapon - barely in time. Dark metal clanged against silver, the shock jarring him to the teeth.

The knight feinted left, then thrust forward with a strength that sent Tam stumbling back. Whoa - for a first fight, this game was pretty serious. Behind him, Jennet let out a cry, but all Tam's attention was focused on his adversary. He had a feeling he couldn't afford to lose this fight, but how could he possibly win?

He stabbed at the knight, who blocked his sword with a bone-shaking counterstroke. Damn, the guy wasn't even using a shield. A series of hard blows rained down on Tam. Breath scraping his throat, he fell back under the power of that relentless assault. His shield arm began to ache from the jarring impact of the Black Knight's blade.

Slowly, the knight pressed forward. None of Tam's attacks seemed to touch him, though he was pretty sure he'd dented the guy's armor in a couple places. Tam couldn't let him get to Jennet. He risked a quick glance at her, to see that she was somehow frozen in a block of clear ice. Her staff was raised and her mouth was open, as if she'd been caught mid-yell.

Clang! Another blow to his shield forced Tam's attention back to the battle. Ok. This was just an in-game fight. An intense one, sure, but there was a pattern here. Every game had a certain level of predictability, if you paid enough attention.

One, two, three sweeping strikes, then the Black Knight lifted his sword for an overhand slice. It wasn't the first time the knight had made that series of moves. Tam scrambled out of the way, saving his strength. He wouldn't attack again until the moment was right - but he still had to keep those deadly sword strokes at bay. He hoped his shield wouldn't crack under the force of those massive blows.

The knight's sword slid across his shield, then continued slicing down. Ow! The blade nicked him in the vulnerable area just above his gauntlets. It didn't feel like a dangerous cut, but it stung. Tam sucked in his breath and kept fighting, kept watching. That combo of moves had to come soon.

Sure enough, after another punishing rain of strikes, the knight began that same series of swings Tam had seen before. This was it - his opening. He backed up and took a firm grip on his sword.

Now! The knight lifted his sword for the overhand attack, and Tam lunged forward with all his strength, the tip of his blade pointed straight toward the Black Knight's chest.

His sword connected with a hollow thunk, then stuck right in the center of the knight's armor. The Black Knight froze in place.

Silence descended, marred only by Tam's ragged breaths. Slowly, he pulled his blade free. It was unmarked by blood, but there was a hole in the knight's chest plate. Had he won?

"Tamlin," the Black Knight said, his voice low and grave. "First fight to you." He raised his sword in a half-salute. Then, just as suddenly as he had dismounted, he was once again astride his horse.

"Well well!" Puck cried, a merry note in his voice. "A fight fairly won." He gestured at Jennet. The ice block cracked open, and she took a quick, stumbling step forward.

She glared at the sprite. "Unfair! You didn't need to--"

"Of a surety, I did." Puck swung about at the end of her staff. "A noble impulse, to aid your champion, but forbidden nonetheless. But you, Tamlin..."

"Yes?" He sheathed his sword, but kept his hand resting lightly on the hilt.

"You are a truer champion than I would have guessed. Well fought, indeed. And now, in parting, I have a gift to bestow on you." He brought one cupped hand to his mouth and puffed.

Glittering dust blew across Tam's face.

"What the...?" He coughed and took a step backward.

Through blurred vision, he saw the little creature vault back onto the horse. In one smooth motion, the knight turned his steed and they galloped away, Puck's mischievous laughter trailing behind.

"What was that?" Tam rubbed his eyes. "Was he trying to blind me or something?" Things slowly started coming back into focus, and he let out a breath.

"Fairy dust," Jennet said. "It usually confers some kind of gift. I guess we'll have to wait and see what, exactly. That is _so_ like Puck." She laid a hand on his arm. "Tam - you were prime, fighting the Black Knight like that. I would have helped, but," she made a face, "you saw what Puck did. You didn't need my help, though. You did great on your own."

He shrugged, though pride warmed him through. "If I won, that was a weird way to show it. Usually stuff dies at the end, you know?"

"Feyland is, well... it's unique."

"Yeah - I'm gathering that." He was also getting the feeling Jennet hadn't told him a few important things about how Feyland worked. There was a totally different mood to this game, and he couldn't quite figure it. Probably as they kept questing it would get clearer to him, but right now it was hard to sort. "Is Puck on our side?"

She tilted her head. "Puck is sort of a free agent, from what I've seen. Sometimes he helps with quests. Sometimes he doesn't."

"Speaking of quests - about this fetching water in a sieve..."

"What about it?"

"Where _is_ my sieve? How does the inventory system work in here?"

"Oh - I should have explained earlier. Sorry. I was just so excited to get you in-game." She gave him a repentant look. "Basically, you think of the thing you need, say the name, and it appears."

"Anything? That's a pretty advanced database."

Jennet nodded. "There's a couple catches, though. You can't summon anything while you're in combat. And the main thing is, calling anything saps your energy for a little while afterward, makes you vulnerable. The more complicated the item, the longer the recovery." She glanced around. "Now is probably an okay time to try it, though."

"Ok. _Sieve_." He blinked in surprise as the metal mesh bowl appeared in his hands. A second later, a wave of weariness washed over him, weighting his arms and legs. "Now how do I get rid of it?"

"That's easy -imagine your hands empty again and it will dematerialize."

Sure enough, the sieve disappeared as soon as he imagined it gone. Freaky.

"Can I try some other stuff?"

"Sure," she said. "Just don't tire yourself out too much."

"What about... _Chocolate-chip cookies._ The big ones, with lots of chips." A stack appeared in Tam's upturned hand. "Hey - these look great."

He let himself collapse, cross-legged, on the ground, then lifted a cookie to his mouth. The interface was so good, he swore he could taste it. Except...

"These cookies taste like bananas," he said.

"Yeah." Jennet shook her head. "Apparently that's the synthesist's favorite flavor. They're working on it, but right now, everything in-game tastes the same."

He swallowed. "Good thing I tried it with cookies. I'd hate to take a big bite of banana-flavored pizza."

She laughed, and the sound felt like warm rain on his skin. Tam liked the way she looked when she smiled. Maybe this playing together was going to work out, after all. She hadn't been lying when she'd said the game was hard and she needed help. _His_ help.

"That reminds me," she said, her expression growing sober. "Except for food you summon, don't eat or drink _anything_ that someone here gives you."

"No candy from strangers. I get it."

"No, really." She knelt to face him, her blue eyes serious. "Promise me, out loud."

He vanished the cookies. Already he was feeling better - ready to get to their quest. "All right. I won't eat or drink stuff that people here give me."

"People or creatures. Promise it."

"Fine. I won't eat or drink anything that people or _creatures_ give me. I promise." As he spoke the last word, the air vibrated, as though somewhere far off a bell had tolled.

Jennet nodded. "Good. It's a true pledge."

CHAPTER TWELVE

Jennet glanced at Tam. She didn't want to explain that he could get trapped in-world if he ate anything here. That would open up an entire barrel of worms that she wasn't ready to talk about now. If ever.

She exhaled, letting the last of the fear leave her lungs, and pulled in a deep breath of sweet air. This first level of Feyland was supposed to be safe. She'd brought him in without much explanation because they weren't supposed to get into any trouble at the beginning. Boy had she been wrong about that.

Nothing was going the way she'd planned. The elation of finally making it back in-game and picking up a quest that would lead to the next level had quickly curdled to fear when the Black Knight had shown up. She'd been sure he was going to pound Tam into the ground, then turn and fling her back outside the borders of Feyland.

But thanks to her champion, that hadn't happened.

Tam had bested the Black Knight. She had been so afraid. So proud. She wished she could have helped, instead of being bound into frustrating immobility by Puck, but it made crazy sense. It was Tam's test, after all.

"So, which way is the river?" Tam asked. He turned in a slow circle and the sunlight glinted off his armor.

She should call it now, and send him home. He'd done what he was supposed to - helped her reactivate the game quests. She could handle it from here. Besides, the Dark Queen was dangerous. It was Jennet's responsibility to make sure Tam didn't get too deep in-world.

"Well... we should probably log off."

"What?" He turned to her, surprise in his green eyes. "We can't just quit _now_. We have a quest to complete. Besides, I'm having fun."

"Fun. Right." She shook her head. Her idea of fun didn't include being pummeled by ferocious knights. But then, guys were different that way.

Would it hurt if he came with her a little further? If they completed the quest together? It would be quick and easy, and it was so nice to have someone along. Someone strong. Someone she could trust.

"Come on, Jennet," he said. "Let's keep going."

"All right," she said, and was rewarded by a flash of his smile. "I think the river is this direction. There should be a trail."

She took a firm grip on her staff and set off, away from Fynnod's quiet cottage. The grasses around them swayed in the wind, and the sky was once more clear and bright.

Tam strode beside her, glancing to either side. "This is really tight world-building. Though I'm glad everything doesn't _smell_ like bananas too. Hey." He paused. "Do you hear that?"

She cocked her head, but heard only the breeze rustling in the tall grass, birds chirping. "I don't hear anything."

"Someone's calling for help." He set his hand to his sword and turned to their left. "This way. Come on."

"Tam, wait. Things here aren't always what they seem..." She was talking to his back.

Stifling a sigh, she hurried after him. He was a good hero, but couldn't he be a little more cautious? Then again, he didn't truly understand what they were dealing with. And whose fault was that?

Guilt twisted through her.

All right. As soon as they got out, she'd talk to him and explain how, exactly, Feyland was dangerous. Whether or not he'd believe her - well, that was a risk she had to take.

She caught up to Tam, who was turning a slow circle in the waist-high grass.

"I hear a voice," he said, a note of frustration in his tone, "but there's nobody here."

Jennet lifted her shoulders. "Feyland can be strange that way. Things don't always make sense. Come on, I see the trail. Don't you want to finish our quest?"

"Wait." He held up a hand, and then a startled look crossed his face. "Really? You are? Alright, let me see."

She had the feeling he wasn't talking to her - but she still didn't hear anything except some bird calling nearby.

Tam dropped to his knees and began parting the grasses around them. "Look, here he is."

"What? Who?" She peered over his shoulder.

He'd uncovered a hollow in the grasses, and there was something moving there. It was a small brown sparrow, flapping its wings desperately, but going nowhere. She bent forward, to see that one delicate foot was caught in a tiny snare. Poor thing.

"Shh," Tam said, holding out one hand toward the bird. "Don't be scared. We'll get you out of this, no problem."

"Is this who you heard calling for help? I mean, obviously he needs some assistance, but..."

"Yeah." Tam's nimble fingers worked on the twine that bound the bird, while a series of tweets and chirps issued from the little beak. "Can't you understand him?"

"Um, no. But obviously you can."

Tam nodded. "This is Skyward. Hold on, buddy, almost got it." He worked the snare free and carefully slid it off Skyward's tiny foot. The bird let out a few more chirps, and Tam dipped his head. "You're welcome."

With a startling flurry of wings, the sparrow shot up into the air. In moments he was just a brown speck against the blue. A cheerful trill drifted down to them, and then he was gone.

"Hm." Jennet stared up into the empty sky, thinking. "I bet that was Puck's gift - understanding the speech of animals."

"That could come in handy."

"Or be totally annoying, depending. What about insects?" She glanced around, then pointed to a dragonfly skimming the grasses nearby. "Can you talk to it?"

Tam stepped over to it. "Hey, bug," he said in a loud voice. "'sup?"

The dragonfly hovered for a moment, then flew off, its wings making a shirring sound.

"Well?" Jennet asked.

He shook his head. "Nope. Guess I don't speak bug."

"That's probably best. I mean, you don't need every little speck trying to have a conversation with you. Hey, look. There's the river." She gestured down the hill to where water made a sparkling line of silver between the trees.

"And here's the trail. Come on." Tam led the way, his movements confident and relaxed.

Jennet watched him. Like her, his avatar was an improved version of his real-life self. Even though there was a character selection menu, it turned out that the game somehow picked up on how you _actually_ looked, with a few modifications. Good thing there weren't any mirrors here, or she'd have even more explaining to do.

It didn't take them long to reach the woods lining the river. Dappled light filtered through the fresh green leaves, and up ahead the river chuckled to itself.

"I wonder if fish talk," Tam said. "And whether they have anything interesting to say."

"Are fish even animals?"

"Guess we'll find out. It's peaceful down here."

Jennet glanced at Tam. His eyes shone with interest as he looked around. It was nice, being able to see his face. He had good, strong cheekbones, and a sharp nose that wasn't too big. But his best feature was his green eyes, the color of the leaves overhead.

It was interesting, too, the way he opened up in-game. It felt like he'd said more to her in Feyland than he had the whole rest of the time she'd known him.

"Let's try this sieve thing," she said, pausing at the river's edge. An ancient willow grew there, its leaves trailing in the current. She materialized her sieve, and Tam did the same. He held it up to the light and turned it back and forth.

"Fetch water in this?" he asked. "If you hadn't noticed, there's a million holes in it."

"Well, that's the quest that Fynnod set us."

Tam stepped down to the river and bent, scooping up water. It immediately flowed back out, sparkling and dripping through the mesh of the sieve.

"Yeah," he said. "Of course it couldn't be that easy."

She set her staff down and knelt next to the willow, then dipped her own sieve in. A wavery reflection looked back at her. A reflection that suddenly grew long teeth and green hair.

"Jennet, there's something in there... look out!" Tam yelled.

Long arms erupted out of the water, grabbing hold of her. Fright thumping hard in her chest, she tried to scramble back, but sharp nails dug into her arms. She couldn't get free, and the creature was dragging her forward, into the water.

"Tam!" she cried.

The bank was slick. Nothing to hold on to but slender reeds that slipped through her fingers as the creature yanked her down.

"Jennet!"

Tam lunged for her, but the creature gave a last, vicious tug and Jennet tumbled headlong into the river.

Chill water closed over her head, the cold shocking through her, and she kicked out wildly. The river was deep here, by the roots of the old willow. Deep, and treacherous, and the domain of a water hag. Fear shuddered through her.

Her staff lay uselessly on the bank above - she couldn't fire blue mage-bolts at the creature. Instead she jabbed her fingers into the tough green skin and tried to kick against the current. But no matter how she struggled, the water hag gripped her tighter and kept towing her down. Down. Dizzy panic tightened her throat.

"Hee hee," the creature burbled. "Wicked Peg found a morsel. A sweet tasteling." She smacked her lips as she pulled Jennet into the submerged shadows.

Jennet's limbs felt heavy. Her body was an echo of her own heartbeat, slowing, slowing. Bubbles escaped her mouth, little pearls lifting from between her lips to float up and away. The sky was wavery splinters of light above her.

Then silver exploded into the current beside them. Air and a flash like lightning - Tam diving in after her, his weapon shining. His sword darted, faster than she could have dreamed, stabbing the green-skinned Peg and making her howl. She lifted one hand from Jennet to claw at Tam's blade.

"Away, away. Prick me not, foul beast of the air!"

Tam kept slashing. Trickles of blood bloomed, clouding the water like green algae. With a last screech, Wicked Peg released Jennet and wriggled away, disappearing into the murky depths beneath the willow.

The last bit of breath escaped Jennet. Her lungs were screaming for air, and Tam's arm was around her, urging her up. He kicked, strongly, and pulled her from the depths. They emerged together in a gasping spray of light.

"Come on." Tam half-carried her onto the bank. He kept his arm around her, even when they had gained solid ground.

Jennet knelt on the mud, coughing. Even though her mind was screaming at her to get away from the river, her legs wouldn't hold her up. She pulled in a rough lungful of air, then coughed again as it scraped her throat. Shivers chased through her.

That had been way too close. What was a high-level monster like that water hag doing here? Feyland was getting more dangerous than she had dreamed.

She crawled forward a few feet and grabbed her staff, then pulled herself to her knees. "Let's get out of here." Her voice was hoarse.

Tam nodded and took her hand, helping her to her feet. Her legs trembled and he gave her a concerned look. It warmed her up a little, inside.

"Yeah," he said. "Some distance is a good idea. You sure you're ok?"

"I'm fair." All she wanted was to get away from the river, and the green terror lurking in its depths.

"Let's head over there," he said, waving to a sunny clearing just visible between the trees. "It seems far enough to be safe."

She nodded. He put his arm around her shoulders, helping her when she nearly stumbled. By the time they reached the clearing, her breathing had evened out and her steps were less shaky. Flowers dotted the grass - blue bells and spangles of daisies. It looked pretty and innocent, and she desperately hoped there wasn't some evil creature hiding in the trees, ready to pounce on them.

Tam surveyed the area, and seemed satisfied. "Here. Sit down a minute."

She sank down in the soft grass and looked up at him. Water plastered his hair to his head and dripped off his armor. He looked a mess, and she certainly wasn't any better off.

"I hope you don't start rusting," she said.

"Yeah. That could get awkward. But magical armor doesn't do stuff like that. Right?"

Jennet glanced down at her soaked gown. "If you don't rust and I don't mold, I think we'll be all right. Anyway, well... thanks." The word seemed inadequate.

Tam gave her a crooked grin. "Hey, I'm a Knight. It's what I do. In fact, give me your sieve and stay here. I'll figure this thing out."

"No." She climbed to her feet. "I'm coming with you. If Wicked Peg comes back, it might take both of us to defeat her again."

She was not going to let Tam out of her sight.

There was a stubborn set to his jaw, but finally he nodded. "Ok, but let's stay away from deep water."

"Yeah - you don't have to convince me of that."

They headed upstream, and she was relieved to see the bank flatten out and the river grow shallow. The water ran around large rocks, making a cheerful babble.

"It seems safe," she said.

"Maybe." Tam kept one hand on the hilt of his sword and gave the river a wary glance. "At least the bottom's easy to see - it can't be more than a few inches deep."

"You stand guard and I'll get my sieve." With a thought, she summoned it, and then braced herself against the surge of weariness that followed. "Maybe if we put mud over the holes, the water will stay in."

"Anything's worth a try at this point." He spoke to her, but stayed facing the river, his eyes scanning the shallows.

She scooped up a handful of dark, gooey mud from the edge of the bank and plopped it in the mesh. So far so good. She smeared it around until it coated the inside of the sieve then, fingers crossed, carefully scooped up some water.

For a second, it held. Then her triumph turned to disappointment as the mud dissolved. Brown water ran out the bottom, and the sieve emptied.

"Great," she said. "Now what?"

A trill of birdsong filled the air, and Tam jerked his head up. He nodded, then turned to her, a smile in his eyes. "Skyward's back. He says it's safe here. And he says to use ashes in the sieve."

"Ashes? Like, from a fire?"

"That's right."

Another flurry of chirping, and this time Jennet saw Skyward, perched on a nearby branch. Ashes, hm? She thought a moment, letting her mind come up with the picture. Ashes - thick gray flakes that would lie over the mesh, with the weight of the water holding them in place.

"It could work." Holding her sieve out, she imagined ashes settling into it, covering the holes. In an instant, the thought became reality. She swayed. "There. The tricky part will be scooping the water in without dislodging them."

"We can do it." Tam sounded completely confident. He summoned ashes into his sieve, then marched to the edge of the water and tilted it into a quiet eddy of current. His lips curved into a full smile as he held up his sieve, brimming with water. "Quest complete."

The hardest part was trudging back to Fynnod's without spilling the water. Skyward kept pace with them, twittering what Jennet imagined was encouragement. When they reached the thatched cottage, Fynnod was sitting in his usual place on the front steps. He watched them approach, his close-set eyes gleaming. She let out a silent breath of relief. Their earlier misadventure with the milk hadn't ruined the quest, after all.

"Greetings, Fynnod." Jennet gave him the proper words.

"Fair Jennet. Knight Tamlin. Have you completed the quest I set you?"

"We have," Tam said, stepping forward. The sky reflected off the water brimming in his sieve, a circle of blue bounded by metal.

The Brownie nodded, his ears flapping at the movement. "Then you have won access to the second circle. Prepare yourselves."

"Hold on," she whispered to Tam. "He's going to transport us there."

A golden glow surrounded them, and she caught a glimpse of Tam's surprised face. Then the world spun, a sudden vortex of glittering light. She reached, blindly, and caught Tam's hand in her own. It wasn't dangerous, traveling the rings, but it could be disorienting your first time.

The whirling stopped, the light dissipating to show a deep forest. As usual, they stood in the center of a ring of mushrooms.

"Where are we?" Tam let go of her hand and slowly surveyed the dark pines surrounding them.

"We're at the next fairy ring - the second level of Feyland." They had done it!

When Tam had defeated the Black Knight, she'd been pretty sure, but this was more proof. She was back in-game - though there was no way they could make it to the Dark Court in just one play session. Even if Dad didn't get home from work until his usual late hour, it was time to get Tam out of Feyland.

"Now what?" He sounded ready to quest all night.

"Now..." She visualized the interface, mentally pressing the exit button. "Now, we log off."

"But--" Tam's protest was lost as the game-world dissolved around them.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Tam lifted the sim helmet and blinked. He felt like he was waking up from some crazy dream - the kind that left your mind and body sluggish and overly warm. In the chair beside him, Jennet peeled off her e-gloves and ran her fingers through her hair. She looked....

Huh. She actually looked better. Less worn-looking. Her eyes were sparkling, and bright blue. Why had he ever thought they were pale?

She smiled at him, the glow and relief in it making him dizzy. "So - what do you think of Feyland?"

"Really amazing. Those fights..." he shook his head. "I could _feel_ so much in there. Thanks for showing me the Full-D. Let's do it again - soon."

Her smile dimmed. "Tam... I really need to tell you--"

"Oh no!" He glanced at the clock blinking on the wall, and then read it again to be sure. "No - it's not really six-thirty, is it? I promised Marny I'd be home by six. She has to leave by then. Jennet, I have to go. Now."

He slid out of the chair, apprehension tightening his lungs. What a crappy thing to do to Marny. Hopefully she'd be able to stay a little longer. He didn't like the thought of the Bug on his own, even for a short time. There was no end of trouble that kid could get into.

"I'll call the car." She hit the blue switch beside the sim systems, turning off the jamming field. "HANA?"

_"Yes, Miss Jennet?"_

"Have George bring the car around front. Mr. Linn needs a ride home, as soon as possible."

_"Right away, miss."_

"I'm sorry," Jennet said, leading him down the hall. "Time is weird in-game. I knew you had to go, but..."

"It happens." He had lost plenty of hours in the past, had emerged from simming to find that the whole day had spun away. The consequences this time couldn't be that bad. He hoped.

Outside it was dark, the air quickly cooling into night. Jennet waited by the grav-car as he climbed in.

"So, see you at school tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks for playing, Tam." Her voice was soft, almost wistful.

"See you." He let the door slide closed and told George where to head. The man didn't raise an eyebrow, which, considering their destination, was impressive. He must have some weaponry in the car - maybe even attached to it - if the thought of driving into the Exe didn't worry him.

It was full dark when the grav-car slid to a stop in front of Tam's building. He mumbled his thanks and got out as fast as he could. People were watching from the shadows and boarded-up windows - he could feel their stares. He hurried up the rickety stairs, not bothering to look back as the car slipped away.

It was quiet upstairs. Too quiet. A quick glance around the living room confirmed that his little brother wasn't there.

"Hey," he called. "I'm home. Come out now."

There was no response - and the Bug wasn't any good at hiding. He always laughed and gave himself away.

Tam peeked into the tiny room where his mom's bed was, did a quick check of the cramped bathroom - nothing. He pushed back the panic creeping up his throat.

There was a note on the dingy table. Tam picked it up, trying to keep his fingers steady. It was in Marny's round handwriting.

_Hey Tam, it's 6:20 and I really need to head out. I gave your evil kid brother the rest of the Sugar Crunchies and made him promise to chill until you got home. Hope you get here soon. And that you had fun._

_-M_

Tam checked the faded green readout on the kitchen clock. Half-an-hour since Marny left. That was plenty of time for the Bug to get into trouble. Or for someone else to show up, and get him into even worse.

He sniffed - no telltale smell of matches or smoke. Not like the last time he'd left his brother unsupervised. He'd come upstairs after simming a little too long, to find a pile of paper smoldering in the middle of the kitchen.

"Bug?" he called, "Peter?" Maybe his brother would answer to his given name. Nothing, and the fear really began to set in.

Should he call the cops? No - they'd only blow him off. The first few times Mom had gone missing, he'd tried to get them to come help, with no luck. Why would this be any different? He lived in the Exe.

His stomach twisted and he tried not to picture all the hurt his little brother could be in. The Bug was pretty random. The medicine he had to take for his blood disease made him act on impulse - not that an eight-year-old had a lot of sense to begin with. In the last year he'd started with the whole pyromaniac thing. He said the flames made him feel good. Tam was sure he'd hid all the matches where Peter couldn't find them, but still....

Maybe the people hiding out in the old shop down the street had seen something. They scared the piss out of him, with their crazy yellow eyes and the sickly-sweet smell of whatever they were smoking filling the air, but he had to start somewhere.

Tam was partway down the stairs when he heard it. A muffled clang, then a scrape of metal, coming from close by. He flung himself down the rest of the stairs and pelted to the back. Sure enough, the big door was unlocked. And inside -

"Peter!" He scooped his brother up in an awkward hug. "I was so worried about you."

"Yeesh." The Bug squirmed in his arms. "Let go, Tam. And don't step on anything."

Tam let his brother slip free, and finally saw what the kid had been doing. Disbelief hit him hard, right in the gut.

"Oh, god."

He turned in slow circles, trying to take in the destruction. Disconnected cables were half-unwound in coppery spirals over the floor. The visor of his helmet was propped against the open side of his CPU - which looked like it had been visited by a bomb. His gloves were turned inside-out, the sensors dangling like broken spider-webs.

Anger rushed through him, and a horrible sense of loss. "My system! What do you think you're doing?"

The Bug scuffed his shoe against the cement floor. "Marny said it was all messed up."

"Well, now it's _really_ messed up. Damn it!"

He wanted to take his brother by the shoulders and shake him. Hard. So hard he'd fly into as many bits as the computer scattered across the floor. Instead, Tam took a deep breath. The Bug was too fragile for that - and besides, Tam was the one who held the family together.

"I'll put it back." His brother sounded on the verge of tears. "I didn't think it would be so hard to fix, Tam. I thought maybe, you know..." He curled his shoulders forward.

"Aw, man. Don't cry." There were enough other things in their life to cry about. "The system was about to die completely, anyway."

He tried to make himself believe it. And maybe the Bug could actually get the thing up and running again. Stranger things had happened.

"Ok." His little brother sniffed, his voice still strained.

"Here." Tam pulled him into a rough hug. "Let's get you upstairs and ready for bed. You can work on putting it back together tomorrow after school."

Just before waving off the lights and locking the door, Tam couldn't help glancing once more at the ruins of his system. So much for his gaming.

Everything around here was falling apart. The stairs were getting more treacherous by the day, the neighborhood was disintegrating, and his brother had a disease nobody could fix. His mom was barely functioning. And now his sim-system was officially dead.

Tam shoved his anger deep down.

"How'd you cut yourself?" the Bug asked, one hand on Tam's arm.

"What?" He glanced down, to see his brother was right. There was a red gash on his forearm. It wasn't bleeding, but it was long and deep. "Oh, that. Don't worry about it. Jammy time, Bug."

While his little brother was getting into bed, Tam went into the bathroom and examined the cut. It throbbed, now that he knew about it. He didn't remember cutting himself.

For a second, the image of the Black Knight flashed before his eyes. That faceless black visor stayed there, floating in his vision, as if it were looking at him. With uncanny clarity Tam recalled their battle - the moment the knight's sword had slid into the gap between his armor....

A sick, shaky feeling moved through him. No way. You didn't get injuries that carried over from computer games into real life, no matter how intense the virtual reality was. It just didn't happen.

He had cut himself getting out of the grav-car, or downstairs, and just hadn't noticed. Yeah, that was it.

He gulped back a glass of water, and then splashed more on his face.

"Tam?" The Bug's voice was lonely.

"Coming." He slapped some all-purpose ointment on the cut, then went out to tell his brother goodnight. It was time they both got some rest.

"'Night to you, too," his brother murmured sleepily.

Tam curled into his old sleeping bag, and weariness hit him heavy in the chest. A crazy mosaic of his day flitted through his head. Jennet, smiling at him. The hairy brown man. A ring of pale mushrooms. Marny, stuffing his cash in her pocket. His system, the guts of his life, spilled everywhere.

Just before he slipped into sleep, he thought he heard the Black Knight's laughter echo in his mind, low and menacing.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Jennet smiled at her reflection as she got ready for school the next morning. Hair a brighter shade of gold, eyes that sparkled - yes! She felt better than she had in weeks. Somehow, being back in Feyland had restored some of her energy.

Conviction rushed through her. She was going to win, going to make it all the way to the Court and get back the piece of herself she had lost.

Then her mood dimmed, the glint fading from her reflection's eye. That was, assuming she could enter the game by herself. She'd been so certain she was in - but then she'd tried to go in-game again, after Tam had left.

Once again she'd been stuck, trapped at the first level with no quest-giver and no way forward. Which meant that she still needed Tam.

And she had to tell him the truth about Feyland - that it was an actual place, somehow connected to the real world. She couldn't ask him to go any further in-game without knowing what he was getting into. Though there was no guarantee he'd believe her, and the thought of telling him made her feel sick. She squeezed her eyes tight and concentrated on keeping her breakfast down.

_"It is time to depart for school, Miss Jennet."_ HANA's even tones rang through the bedroom intercom.

"Ok, I'm coming." Jennet hurried out of the bathroom and grabbed her satchel, then paused in front of her bookshelf. Her dad thought she was crazy for still wanting the paper books that lined the shelves.

"It makes no sense," he had said, watching the hired movers carry the last of the heavy boxes of books away from their old house. He'd slipped his tablet out of his pocket and waved it at her. " _This_ is where all those books could be - plus thousands more. Instead you're going to give the workers a hernia."

"I like old tech, Dad." Especially since some of those books were too old, too rare. They didn't exist in e-form. Neither she nor Dad would mention Thomas, or the fact that some of those books had belonged to him. Since he'd died, they never, ever talked about him.

She ran her fingertips along the bumpy spines until she found _Tales of Folk and Faerie_ , a collection that was nearly three-hundred years old. It had belonged to Thomas. She'd salvaged the aging binding and done what she could to reinforce the delicate paper. With a whispered apology, she slid the book out and tucked it into her satchel. Tam needed to see this, needed to look at the stories and illustrations and have it all start to make sense. The way it finally had for her.

_"Miss Jennet? Is there a reason to delay?"_

"I'm on my way." Sometimes she wished HANA would lose that machine patience and sound irritated. Just once. So that Jennet could pretend there was a real person there, who actually cared if she was late to class.

She made it to school on time. The only problem was, Tam wasn't there. She was sure at lunch, when she saw Marny sitting in the cafeteria. Alone.

Jennet took a deep breath and swallowed back the bitter tang of worry. There could be a hundred reasons Tam hadn't made it today.

Too bad all the things she could think of went from bad to horrible. Something had happened, she just knew it - somehow the game had harmed him already. Feyland had been completely unpredictable last night. It wasn't such a stretch to think the game had done something to Tam.

And it was her fault.

Maybe Marny knew something. Jennet grabbed her tray and walked over to where Marny sat. Without waiting for an invitation, she set her lunch down and took a seat. A shocked little buzz of attention followed her, making the back of Jennet's neck prickle - but there was no way she was waiting until the end of school.

"Hi," Jennet said.

Marny had set her fork down as soon as Jennet approached, and gave her a level gaze across the table. "You sure you want to be over here?"

"Yes. Unless you want me to leave."

Marny lifted one shoulder. "As long as the gossip won't bother you. I don't care. Sit where you want."

Jennet looked across the cafeteria, saw the faces quickly turned away, the giggles hidden behind lifted hands. "It's not like I'm exactly popular. Being a Viewer and all. Listen, do you know--"

"Where's Tam today?" Marny's question collided with hers.

"What?" Her worry spiked. "I thought you'd know."

"I had to leave before he made it home last night. If he made it at all. What did you do with him?" There was a challenge in her voice.

"Nothing! Okay, he was a little late, but my dad's driver dropped him off at his house no problem. Really, you don't know where he is?"

"I'm not his keeper. Like I said, I had to leave. I hope everything's all right."

Jennet pushed her tray aside. "I have to go find out."

"He never answers his messages - reception in the Exe is way spotty. There's no way to get in touch with him."

"I'm going to his house." Jennet stood. Having a plan helped clear some of the anxiety, made her feel a little more in control.

"What - now?" Marny glanced side-to-side. "You don't seem like the type to ditch your classes."

"This is more important." She had to make sure Tam was all right.

"Maybe he just got sick," Marny said, though she didn't sound very certain. "Or his brother did - their mom isn't around a lot, so stuff falls on Tam. It could be no big deal."

"Could be."

"Look. You can't just head into the Exe and hope to find Tam."

"Come with me, then." That would make things a lot easier.

"I wish I could, but..." Marny made a face, like she'd bitten something sour. "I can't miss the test in World Markets today, or they'll flunk me out. I'll take you over there after school though."

The anxiety sizzling through Jennet wouldn't wait. "No. It has to be now."

"You're not big on sense, are you Fancy-girl?" Marny blew out a breath, then pulled a piece of paper out of her bag and scribbled something down. "Look, here's a map. That's my number at the bottom. Message me if you get totally lost. And when you find out what's up with Tam."

Jennet folded the paper and tucked it in her pocket. "I'll let you know." She grabbed her tray and stood up.

"One more thing," Marny said.

"What?"

"Try not to get killed out there." The big girl gave her a wry smile.

"Um. Okay, I'll do my best."

Jennet scraped her lunch into the bin, then set her tray on the stack with a clatter that seemed to echo around the room. People were still looking at her - but she had bigger things to worry about. There was only one person who mattered right now, and the sooner she slipped away, the sooner she'd know if he was all right.

Boarded-up buildings loomed on either side of Jennet. She swallowed back the metal taste of fear and glanced at the directions Marny had scribbled out. Did that line there mean she was supposed to go left, or right? According to the sort-of map, she was getting close to Tam's. So far things had been quiet in the Exe.

Before leaving the school grounds she'd taken off her jewelry and folded the cuffs of her sweater down over her wrists, trying to hide her chip. True, she still stood out, with her too-clean designer clothes, but so far she'd been left alone. If her luck held, in a couple minutes she'd be knocking on Tam's door. Provided she could find it.

George knew how to get there, but she couldn't call him and say, "Hey, I'm ditching my classes, could you give me a ride?" Dad would send her straight back to Middland.

A clank of metal-on-metal drifted from down the street to the right. Okay then, she'd go left. The pavement had chunks missing. The smell of something rotten lodged in the back of her throat, but this felt like the right place. The empty, brownish building on the corner seemed familiar. Wasn't Tam's just down -

"Hey, girly." A man stepped out into the street in front of her, his voice hoarse and low.

Jennet took a step back, her whole body going tight with fear. Run! She whirled, only to find another man flanking her. Oh god. Oh god. This was severe. Stomach clenching, she sidled toward the middle of the street.

The first man spread his arms wide. He and the other guy both had weird, yellowish eyes, where a crazy wildness lurked. They smelled, too - a thick, cloying stench that made her head spin.

"You look like you got loot," the first man said.

"No." She fought to make her voice firm, the way you'd talk to a menacing dog. "Go away."

"Nuh-uh. Not until you hand over that fancy purse," said the one behind her. "Hey man, check out her wrist. I think we just hit the jackpot." He laughed, a rusty caw.

The first man's eyes gleamed and his hand went to his belt. He had some kind of weapon there. Gun, knife - either way she was in deep trouble.

Jennet's body was a drum, filled with the heavy thump of fear. She should've waited for Marny. If only she had a weapon, just a stone or a stick, something to fight with. Or her staff. She could almost feel it in her hands - the heavy, comforting weight, ready to zap whatever creatures menaced her.

Wait. She _could_ feel it. She glanced down to see the smooth, dark wood, the crystal glowing blue-white at the tip. Her mage staff from Feyland.

No way. Fear was making her imagine things. But the man in front of her was staring at her hands, too. Staring at what she now held.

"What the..." He took a step back and drew a knife. "Where'd that come fr--"

Jennet hit him with a sizzling bolt of light, square in the chest, sending him flying backward ten feet. He lay moaning on the broken pavement.

Never hesitate when confronting your enemies - she'd learned that in-game. Pivoting, she leveled her staff at the second man, but he was already running away, down the street. She nearly went after him, but caught herself. She had to find Tam. And this wasn't Feyland.

It was the real world - so what was her staff doing, appearing in her hands and shooting magical bolts? Things like that just didn't happen. They couldn't.

As if sensing her disbelief, her staff disappeared. There one second, gone the next, leaving her fingers curved around empty air.

Jennet blinked and lowered her hands. Had she been dreaming? The guy lying on the street was pretty convincing evidence that it had happened. But her staff had vanished. No explanation.

The man moaned and Jennet ran, sprinting past him down the street. She didn't look back. She skidded around the corner, and her breath whooshed out in relief as she saw the old mechanic's shop with the rickety outside stairs. Tam's place.

She checked the big metal door in back first, but it was locked. All right - upstairs it was. No matter how treacherous the stairs looked, they would be easy compared to the guys she'd left behind.

The railing swayed when she touched it, and the treads creaked wearily under her feet, but Jennet kept going. Maybe Tam wasn't home, but she couldn't stop now. The thought of going back through the neighborhood alone... no way. A shiver shook through her. At least it was the middle of the day. She couldn't imagine how creepy the Exe would be at night. Maybe even worse than the Dark Forest in Feyland. She didn't intend to find out.

No wonder Tam was so brave, if this was what he lived with every day.

A small landing at the top of the stairs led to a warped front door. There was a window in the wall beside it, but it was made of thick glass imbedded with wire, impossible to see through. Well. No use just standing here. She lifted her hand and knocked.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Ashadow crossed in front of the window, and then a metal cover in the door slid open a bare inch. An eye regarded her.

"Hi," Jennet said. "Um - Tam, is that you?" Somehow she didn't think so. Unease tightened the back of her neck and prickled down her spine.

The eye looked at her a moment more, then the peephole cover closed abruptly. Jennet waited, but there was nothing else - no greeting or dismissal, no opening door. She bit her lip. Should she knock again? Maybe it had been the little brother, and he didn't know what to do. Although, whoever had been looking at her, it hadn't felt like a kid.

"Hello?" she called. "Is Tam home?"

The silence continued on the other side of the door.

She waited for what felt like forever. Finally, Jennet turned away. Disappointment was sour in her mouth. She took one step down the rickety stairs. Then another.

Behind her came the quiet jangle of a chain, the clunk of a deadbolt being drawn back. Whoever had been standing there was opening the door. Half-afraid to look, she made herself turn around.

The door swung back to reveal a woman on the threshold. She clung to the knob, as if it were the only thing keeping her upright. She was tiny, and not just because she was emaciated, though that didn't help. Her green eyes were ringed with weary circles. Brown hair, cut raggedly short, framed her too-thin face.

"Who?" she whispered, the question a bare thread of sound.

"I'm a friend of Tam's," Jennet said, making her voice soothing. This woman looked like she could be knocked over by a loud voice, an abrupt move. "Is he home?" Please, let him be here.

"Mom?" It was Tam's voice, calling from inside.

Thank god - he was all right. Relief poured through her, making her knees weak. Tam was here. Not collapsed on the floor because the game had ripped out a piece of his soul. Not bleeding away from some game injury that crossed the boundary into real life.

"Hey mom, where are you?" he called again, sounding worried.

The woman glanced over her shoulder, and then looked back at Jennet. She nodded, once, and then Tam was standing beside her.

"What are you doing?" he asked, all his attention fixed on the wraith of a woman still clinging to the doorknob. "Come back inside now, Mom. You shouldn't be up."

Then his gaze moved past the woman. He looked unhappy to see Jennet standing there.

"Hi," she said. "I wanted to see if you were okay."

"I'm fine." He put a protective arm around his mom and steered her back into the house.

Jennet took a hasty step forward, before he could close and lock the door in her face. "Can't I come in? There are some crazies out there, you know."

"Whatever." He didn't sound at all pleased about it. "I'll be right back. Close the door, and make sure it's locked." Without looking back, he guided his mom inside.

"Nice," Jennet said under her breath.

She hadn't thought Tam would throw a party when she showed up, but she hadn't expected this borderline hostility. Especially after running together in Feyland so successfully the day before. She'd thought they were allies, at the very least.

After closing - and bolting - the door, she stepped into the middle of the room. Tam's place was slightly better than a shed, but to call it a house would be a stretch. It smelled musty, with an underlay of old grease and rust. The main room had a thin couch along one wall, with bedding pushed down at the bottom. In the corner was a sleeping-bag and worn pillow. Pretty obvious that Tam and his brother slept here. A bathroom was wedged in beside the kitchen, but it was too small to even qualify as a room.

Next to the sleeping area was an overflowing bookshelf, made from rough boards nailed together. Comics and computer repair schematics spilled out of the shelves in messy stacks, sandwiched in between old game manuals, kid stories and some novels. It reminded her of the other reason she was here - to give Tam the book in her satchel. And - her breath caught - to tell him about Feyland.

In front of the couch, taking up part of the floor, was spread a thin webwork of wires. Jennet took a careful step closer. They seemed to be attached to Tam's gaming gloves. Was he doing some modifications? There was nothing he could do to make his gloves respond like the VirtuMax ones. He shouldn't even try.

Tam came back into the room, closing his mom's door quietly behind him. He folded his arms.

"So," he said, "what do you want?"

Jennet tried not to look like his attitude was bothering her, but the unfriendliness in his voice and expression hurt. He'd gone back to being the wary stranger with hair in front of his eyes.

"Nice to see you, too," she said. "I'm glad you didn't get jumped by the crazies last night, or break your neck on the stairs, or something like that."

"My mom came home," he said, like that should explain everything.

Which in some ways it did. Obviously his mom was a wreck, and Tam was taking care of her. Jennet couldn't blame him for missing school - it didn't seem like he had much of a choice. Even though it had put her in a severe panic.

"We need to talk," she said.

He gave a sharp nod. "You first."

She swallowed. "Could we sit down?"

"Ok. Watch the wires." He stepped over the eviscerated gaming gloves and pushed the bedding off the end of the couch, then perched there.

Jennet sat at the other end and leaned her satchel against her legs. She nodded at the floor. "Are you re-configuring your gloves?"

His expression tightened even more. "You could say that. The whole system is down for maintenance right now."

"Oh. So - you can't play at home?"

"Look." He pushed the hair out of his eyes and gave her an angry glare. "Why did you come here?"

"I have something to show you." She pulled the old book out of her bag and handed it to him.

He stared at the cover a long moment, and then opened the book, turning the pages with a care that eased some of her tension. Familiar faces flashed past. Fynodderee. Puck. At the illustration of Peg Powler, the water hag, he stopped.

"This is the inspiration for Feyland," he said. "Where'd this book come from? Is it yours?"

"It belonged to the lead developer who worked with my dad on the game. His name was Thomas Rimer."

Tam slowly closed the book. "What happened to him?"

His expression was serious. Would he still trust her, still believe her, when she told him the truth?

"He..." Jennet twisted her fingers together. "My dad would tell you he died of a stroke, but... I think somehow the game killed him."

"Wait a minute," Tam said, rubbing at his forearm. "How can a game kill someone? That can't happen, not literally."

Jennet took a deep breath. "Feyland isn't just a game, Tam. I know it sounds crazy, but I think it's somehow connected to the Realm of Faerie."

"Get real." He pushed the book onto the couch and stood. "There's no such thing."

"If it's not real then what is that book all about?" She pointed to _Tales of Folk and Faerie_ , sprawled on the faded blanket.

"Fairy tales!" Tam jammed his hands in his pockets. "It's just a book. Stories to frighten kids, made-up stuff - they're not real."

She used to think the same thing. "That book is hundreds of years old, Tam! Those stories aren't made-up - they're collected from real people who had real experiences with something beyond our world. Did you know that in Europe, stone circles used to be recognized as portals into Faerie? Burial mounds, sacred wells - all of those were doorways to somewhere else."

"So?"

"So - those places are gone now."

"And what?" He gave a disbelieving laugh. "Now the faeries are trying to get to us through _games_? You're insane, Jennet."

His disbelief stabbed through her. She'd thought - she'd hoped - that Tam would believe her. He was the only one who might.

A muffled cry from the bedroom made them both turn.

"Damn - she's waking up." He turned on her, a fierce look in his eyes. "You need to go. Now."

"Fine. I'm leaving you the book."

Another cry, louder this time, followed by a thump. Tam took her arm and marched her to the door. "I don't have time for your wacko theories about Feyland, Jennet. Just, stay out of my life from now on. I have more important things to deal with."

She blinked hard against the sting of tears. He wasn't worth it.

Except that, he was.

"Tam--"

"Bye." He closed the door in her face. The bolt chunked back into place. From inside came the sound of something breaking.

Jennet sank down on the top step. It took a minute for her to blink away her tears. School was almost out. She'd wait a little longer, then call George to pick her up. She didn't think Tam would let her back inside. She wasn't welcome, that was beyond clear, but she wasn't about to walk back alone through the Exe.

She stared at the grey sky and took a shaky breath. All right. So much for her gamer hero. It was better this way - for both of them. Feyland was too dangerous, especially for someone who didn't take it seriously.

She was on her own. Again.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

t took longer than usual for Tam to soothe his mom back into sleep. Maybe it had been his argument with Jennet, or just having someone else in their house, but she was restless and manic. He'd coaxed her back onto her meds, but it always took a while for them to kick in and stabilize her crazy mood swings.

He swept up the shards of the plate she'd broken. Next time he'd remember to bring her food on plastic dishes. It would be another two, three days before she'd be back to functioning. Then he and the Bug would have a mom for a while.

His brother was still young enough to treasure those times, but Tam had learned to hate them. A week or two, maybe a month, and she'd stop taking the drugs that made her sane. Then she'd steal whatever money was left and leave - only to stumble home a few days or weeks later. And then the cycle repeated.

He still couldn't forgive her for taking the travel money he'd worked so hard to earn. The money that would have gotten him to the national gaming tournament. It had been his ticket out - prize money, sponsorships, a little fame. All gone. He still felt sick when he thought about it.

At least this time she had brought some cash. Tam didn't ask where or how she got it, he just hid most of it. They needed food, and cheap fuel for the generator, and anything else they couldn't put off. This time around, it would be a trip to the clinic for the Bug, to get his quarterly shot.

Would there be enough for a new system? Yeah, right. No way was that going to happen. Tam laughed bitterly at himself for even having the thought.

Not only did he have no system, he'd just ended his friendship with the girl who had the best set-up he'd ever played. He was an idiot.

Forget about her sparked system, and her blue eyes. He'd go back to Zeg's - when he got some time and some extra coins.

Not soon, that was for sure.

He didn't have anything else to do, other than stare at the mess of his gaming gloves, so Tam picked up the book Jennet had brought. What a nutcase.

_What about that cut on your arm?_ a voice inside him whispered. He ignored it. There was no overlap from virtual reality to real life. None. To think there might be - that was craziness waiting to happen. It was surprising the authorities hadn't taken Jennet in for psych testing.

Or maybe they had. What did he know about her, after all? She was new in town. She could be hiding all kinds of things.

Well, he'd never know. They were done. Though at some point he supposed he'd have to return her stupid book. Might as well take a look, now that he had it.

It was old - she hadn't been lying about that. The few color illustrations had a dreamy, saturated feeling, similar to Feyland. Jennet said the lead programmer had owned this book. Obviously he'd used it for some serious inspiration.

There were black-and-white drawings, too. Gnarled figures perched in tree-branches, lovely women who called men to their deaths in deep water, winged sprites darting through a clearing. And the Black Knight. Tam's gut clenched as he stared at the picture of the knight. The cut on his arm started hurting. Hastily, he turned the page.

_The Faerie Queen_.

For a second, Tam couldn't breathe. So, this was the queen. Her face was delicate, her eyes haunted and compelling. She wore clothing that looked insubstantial as mist, the flowing gown revealing the curve of her hip and baring one shoulder. Pointed ears were just visible through her midnight-dark hair, gems tangled like stars in its silky blackness.

She was beautiful. He couldn't imagine _wanting_ to fight her, even as the final boss in a game.

"Tam?" It was the Bug, home from school. Tam hadn't heard him coming up the stairs.

"Hey there. Want a snack?" He shoved the book under his sleeping bag and went to distract his brother.

That night the Dark Queen moved through Tam's dreams. She whispered to him of his bravery and offered him a goblet of deep red liquid. His lips touched the edge - and he woke, tangled and sweaty in his sleeping bag. First light was sifting through the windows. He got himself a drink of water, and then went to check on Mom.

She was sleeping - a restless, unhappy sleep from the looks of it. He could sympathize. Even though he was tired, he wasn't going back to bed. The alarm to get the Bug off to school would ring in an hour, and it wasn't worth it to lie there trying to rest for most of that time, only to get yanked back out of sleep again.

He missed gaming. It had only been two days since simming at Jennet's, and there was a big aching hole in his chest.

He'd told Jennet to stay out of his life. Remembering the look on her face made him wince. Maybe he'd been a little harsh. But it had been too much - her just coming over, showing up while he was trying to deal with Mom, looking around his house like it was no better than a cardboard box some street bum slept in.

And then that freaky talk about Feyland and some guy named Thomas. Obviously his death had hit her hard, but that was no excuse to go off the deep end about what was real, and what wasn't.

Still, maybe he shouldn't have told her off. Even if that game had made her crazy, she was a nice person. Too good for him, really, with her fancy life and all. Not to mention that amazing system.

He let out a deep breath, then went into the kitchen to heat water for instant coffee. It was going to be another long, tough day.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The rest of the week, Jennet kept hoping to see Tam at school. If only she could talk to him again and say she was sorry for coming over. She shouldn't have gotten up in his space like that, but she had needed to make sure he was all right. Needed to try and make him understand.

Each day crawled by, the hours oozing past like old ketchup, and there was no sign of Tam. Marny couldn't tell her much, either. She just said that it was his life, his business, and that he'd be back. Eventually.

Every afternoon Jennet went home, turned on the jammer, and snuck onto the Full-D, trying to get back into Feyland. Every afternoon, she was stuck again at the starting lands, unable to find a faerie ring to take her deeper in. It was no use - she was locked out. Without a companion, the game wouldn't let her through. She could feel the extra energy she'd gotten back trickling out again, like a slow leak from a faucet. Pretty soon she'd start getting dizzy again - and how long would she last after that?

It was better for Tam if he were done with her, done with Feyland. She knew that, but panic still crawled up her throat at night, choking her, and her dreams were full of the Dark Queen's mocking laughter.

Then at dinner on Friday, Dad decided to get all parental.

"I hear you had a guest over," he said, setting down his fork. "A young man."

He seemed pretty calm. Maybe he was just glad that she'd made a friend. "His name's Tam. He's in some of my classes."

"Oh?" Her dad lifted his eyebrows. His voice was carefully neutral, in that way parents had of trying to get you to confide.

She let out a sigh. No doubt George and Marie had already given him their biased opinion. "He's nice. And he's a gamer. A good one. I thought he might like to take a look at the prototype system."

"Young lady." Dad's voice was suddenly hard. "I've told you Feyland is off-limits. That's not going to change."

"I know that, Dad." She pasted a smile on her face, trying to look like she had a major crush. "But the Full-D systems are cool to see, and I just wanted to show Tam..."

"Impress him, you mean?"

She didn't have to fake the blush heating her cheeks. "I guess. He's kind of sweet." And messed-up. And still a hero in every way that counted.

"I expect you to behave yourself." He picked his fork back up and took another bite of meat. A good sign that the interrogation was about over. "Does this Tam have a last name?"

"It's Linn. And don't worry. I mean, I like him, but we're just friends." Or had been.

"If you continue seeing him, I'd like to meet Mr. Linn. And Marie is insisting on a clearance check." His tone said there was no arguing around this one.

Luckily, it wouldn't be a problem. She wasn't seeing Tam at all - not even in the most basic sense of the word.

"All right." It was way past time to change the subject. "How's work going?"

He finished chewing. "We need to find a new lead programmer."

For Thomas. His death had been strange; even VirtuMax acknowledged that. They thought it had been some kind of corporate espionage, though. Suddenly the push was on to get the whole project relocated here, to Crestview, where the security was tight as clenched teeth. And where the buried cables of the 'net ran right through - ready and waiting for when the company was ready to market their new release.

"Maybe you should start something new," she said. She tried to keep it casual, though she wanted to grab Dad by the shoulders and start yelling that they must never, _ever_ , release that game. "There has to be another way to showcase the system without finishing Feyland. What about a different kind of game?"

Her dad shook his head. "I don't know why you keep saying that, Jennet. The company has already put millions into this project. And I thought you liked the idea behind Feyland."

"Not so much, any more."

Not since she'd been sucked through it into a place that was perilous, real, and full of dark magic. What would happen if her dad's team managed to finish the project? Once Feyland was released with the new sim-system, there would be millions of players. Would all of them fight the same battle with the Dark Queen that she had - and lose? Then what? Could the Dark Court somehow find a way to enter their world? The thought made her mouth go dry.

"I'm sorry." Dad's tone told her he was apologizing for everything: Thomas's death, their sudden move, even being such a workaholic that her mom had left for good five years ago.

Jennet took a drink of water. The liquid in the glass shivered under her unsteady hand. Some things you couldn't change. And some things you had to try, no matter how impossible.

"You should start playing Feyland." She couldn't keep the urgency from her voice. "You know, see what it's like _inside_ this project you've been managing. It would help you get a feel for it. I could go with you, help you with the quests, show you around."

Maybe then he'd be able to see the danger, maybe then he'd listen to her. Although Tam had played, and he hadn't believed her. Her dad would be no different.

"I played the earliest version," he said. "You know that. It was enough to give me a solid idea of the concept. Gaming's not my strong point. Besides, I prefer to stay out of the artist's vision at this point."

"There is no artist! You can never replace Thomas. You shouldn't even try." Tears clogged her throat, and she stared at her plate, appetite gone.

After an uncomfortable minute, her dad let out a low breath. "How about we go see a movie tomorrow? There must be something good at the 3-Max."

"All right," she finally said, swallowing back her hopelessness.

Not that going to see a movie would change anything. Dad would never come around, and banging her head against that brick wall wasn't going to solve her problems.

Monday was better, especially when she caught sight of Tam at his locker. Relief blew through her like a welcome wind. Should she go up and say hi? Did he have her book? What if he just ignored her? Or worse, snapped at her and told her never to speak to him again?

While she was still debating with herself, the first bell blared through the hall and it was too late. He didn't look at her once during Early World History. Good thing she hadn't said hello. She tried to ignore him in return, but despair settled over her like a thick cloak. When class ended, she moved blindly out into the hall.

"Hey." A touch on her arm.

She turned, to find Tam beside her. His eyes, half-hidden by his hair, looked wary. But not mad, not the way they had when he'd told her to get out of his life.

"What do you want?" She kept her voice even. No gladness. No anger. Students thronged past them, some talking noisily, others with heads bent to their tablets, barely watching where they were going.

"Can I meet you after school?" he asked.

She shrugged, like it didn't matter, but a flame of hope wavered to life. "I guess. I'll see you out front."

"Ok." He hesitated like he wanted to say more, then gave her a brief flicker of a smile. "See you."

He walked away, and her body was suddenly lighter, like she'd finally remembered how to breathe.

It still took years for the end of the school day to come. A few times, Jennet was certain the clocks had broken, their readouts stuck on the same numbers. But at last her final class ended.

She made herself walk slowly down the stairs and out the big double-doors. There was no guarantee Tam would be there. He could have changed his mind. Even if he was waiting for her, things might still be bad between them.

He was there, leaning against the brick wall with his hands shoved in his pockets, his mangy backpack at his feet.

"Hi," she said, stopping in front of him. It didn't seem enough, but everything else she could think of to say was too dumb - or too personal. Clearly his mom was a dangerous topic, as was Feyland. Her apology stuck in her throat, but she scraped it out anyway.

"I... I'm sorry I barged into your life like that."

"Yeah." He looked down at his scuffed pack. "I'm sorry, too."

Ouch. "I'll stay out of your life from now on, don't worry." Tears pricked the back of her eyes.

"Wait." He held out one hand. "I didn't mean it like that - I meant for telling you to leave like that. I, um, brought back your book."

"Did you read it?"

"Yes." His green eyes caught hers. "It was interesting. Look, Jennet. I'm sorry I said those things to you."

"Which things?" She needed it to be perfectly clear. Needed to know exactly which parts he was sorry for.

A shadow crossed his face. "That you should get out of my life. That you were crazy. Wait--" He held up a hand as she drew breath. "I'm not saying that you're right, either. But I do know that something strange is going on."

"Do you?" It was a start. She pressed her lips together, trying to keep from hoping.

He rolled up his sleeve and held out his arm. There was a red line marring his skin.

"I got this cut after the fight with the Black Knight. Yeah, I could have cut myself on something else, but..."

"But what? You think maybe the game can affect the real world?" Oh, god. He might actually believe her. The painful knots in her chest began to loosen. She'd been carrying this alone for so long.

"I'm also having weird dreams." He cleared his throat. "And the game, Feyland - there's something kind of off about it. So - I don't believe you. But I don't _not_ believe you, either."

Jennet went limp with relief. She sagged against the wall, her whole body trembling. "Thanks."

The word wasn't big enough to convey the enormous wave of gratitude rushing through her.

He bent and pulled _Tales of Folk and Faerie_ out of his pack, then handed it to her. "So, when do we go back in-game? I could come over almost any day this week. My mom," he looked away a moment, then back, "she's doing better. For now."

"That's good. But I don't think we should play again."

There was a flash of hurt in his eyes and he straightened. "What do you mean? I thought you needed my help. Or did you find somebody else?"

"No - nobody else. But Tam," she gestured to his arm, "you've already gotten hurt, and that was in the starting lands, where nothing like that is supposed to happen. It gets worse. A lot worse."

He pushed his hair away from his eyes and gave her a long look. She could almost see the thoughts turning in his head.

"Did something happen to you in-game, Jennet?" His voice held a rough note of concern. "Are you okay?"

She wouldn't cry - not here, in front of the school. In front of Tam. Blinking hard, she summoned up the words. "I lost... I lost the game to the Dark Queen. And no, I'm not okay."

A tear slipped down her cheek. Then another. All the fear she'd kept inside was pushing out, making her skin hot, making her weep despite herself.

"Jennet." He reached out and touched her shoulder. "Don't cry. You aren't supposed to beat the boss the first time you try. It'll be all right, I promise."

She drew in a shaky breath. "It's not like that, Tam. You have no idea. The first level of the game--"

"Hey." He gave her a fleeting, crooked smile. "Give me another chance. I'm the best simmer around, remember? And this time, I know what we're getting into."

"You don't." She pushed away from the wall and stared into his eyes. "Feyland is dangerous!"

"Then show me." He held her gaze.

Stubborn idiot. He wasn't backing down. She wanted to hit him and hug him at the same time.

"Tam--"

"Let me choose whether I should keep playing or not. I get it, something's weird with the game. I'll be careful. Besides, don't you still need my help?"

She dropped her gaze and stared at the ground for a long moment. That was the worst of it. It was hard to argue that he shouldn't enter Feyland when she needed him so desperately.

"Yes," she finally said. "I do need your help."

"Then we're still playing," he said. "Together."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Jennet settled in the sim-chair and glanced over at Tam. Helmet and gloves on, he was leaning forward like a free-faller about to jump.

"Ready?" she asked.

Please, let nothing go wrong. She had the twisting feeling that Feyland was a trap, waiting to spring. They shouldn't be doing this - but she didn't have any other options.

"Ready," he said. His voice was full of anticipation that she couldn't share.

"All right. See you in there." She pulled down the visor of her helm and entered the game.

WELCOME TO FEYLAND.

The words scrolled across her vision, flared, then burned down to nothing. She braced herself for the transition, that queasy, whirling golden light that marked full entry into the game.

When the light stopped spinning, she was standing in a ring of pale mushrooms. Tam was beside her, wearing his armor, his sword at his side. The sky was filled with the grey of early twilight, and the dark forest stretched away on all sides. Directly in front of them a thin trail cut through the pines.

He glanced around. "Where are we?"

"The second circle. We unlocked it last time." Proof, as if she needed it, that she couldn't go deeper in-game without Tam. "The path should lead to our next quest giver. And don't forget, each level is more dangerous than the last."

"Ok. Let's go." His silver armor gleamed as he strode out of the ring. She noticed he was careful not to disturb any of the mushrooms.

Taking a firmer grip on her staff, she followed. The silence was thick in the forest, the sound of their footsteps muffled by the layer of pine needles carpeting the path. Grey mist filtered between the trees, making everything dim and hazy.

"Will the sun come out?" Tam asked. "It was a lot lighter the first time we played."

"Every circle takes us farther into Feyland. In the center, at the court, it's night all the time." The memory of her moonlit battle shivered down her spine.

"I thought faeries were ok with daylight. They're not vampires, are they?"

"It's the Dark Court." Even saying the words made her feel cold. There was a sudden ache in her chest, as though the part of herself that belonged to the queen had woken and was tugging at her.

Tam was silent a moment. When he spoke, she could practically hear the thoughts tumbling into place in his head.

"In that old book you lent me, there were two main courts. They weren't called Dark and Light though."

"Unseelie and Seelie. We're in the land of Unseelie. Unfortunately."

"So why aren't the Light - er, Seelie - faeries around?" he asked. "Don't all these guys live in the same world?"

"From what I've read, it's kind of complicated." She stepped around a bramble bush that tried to snag her skirts. "It's not that any of them are good or bad, the way we think of it. This isn't Tinkerbell running around sprinkling pixie dust, you know."

"Actually, I've read that old story. Peter Pan. You know, she wasn't a very nice little faerie. She tried her best to kill the heroine."

"Exactly," Jennet said. "They don't have the same sort of morals as humans. The dark, the light, it's all fluid. So the Seelie Court may be involved, or may be content to let the Dark Court go about its business."

Something rustled in the underbrush, and Tam whirled, hand on his sword hilt. "Who's there?"

There was no reply.

Then motion erupted around them. Thick black roots whipped out of the earth and snaked around Jennet's ankles. Brambles grasped her skirts with spiky fingers, and the pines reached down, needles tangling into her hair and holding fast. Her mage staff was whipped from her hands and landed in a prickle bush, out of reach.

"Tam!" she cried, her heartbeat racing. She brought her hands to her head, trying to wrench her hair free. The trees held her fast, and her scalp burned from the pain.

"I'm trying!" Tam was slicing at the foliage holding her, but the bushes and vines were impervious. It was like his sword had been turned to useless plastic.

"Why aren't they grabbing you?" She tried to kick free of the roots, but they were iron manacles around her ankles.

"No idea. Maybe my armor protects me. Are they hurting you?" He kept slashing, but it was no use. The underbrush wasn't giving way at all.

"My head hurts, but I don't think they're trying to kill me." After the initial attack, the trees seemed content to just keep her imprisoned.

"We have to get you free." He slid his sword back in the sheath and grabbed her mage staff from where it had tumbled into the bushes. "Try this."

She took her staff from Tam and pointed the end at one of the thickest roots, at a safe distance from her feet. White flame sizzled, and for an instant it felt like her bonds weakened - but then they cinched even more tightly about her ankles.

"Ow," she said. "That didn't work."

"Look." Tam pointed through the misty trees. "There are lights over there - and can you hear that music?"

She listened. "No. I don't see anything."

"What if it's the Seelie faeries, Jennet? I bet they could help us. Anything that plays music like that has to be good." A dreamy look moved across his face. He turned and took a step into the underbrush.

"Wait! Hold on - something's wrong."

She heard the music now. It whispered her name, sweet and low, promising help, promising that if she followed, everything she wanted would be hers. Jennet shook her head, sharply.

"Don't listen, Tam." It was hard to ignore the pull of the music - but she was hardly going anywhere, with the trees imprisoning her.

"They're just over there," Tam said, gesturing. "I'll be right back, with help."

"Tam, no... don't go!" She tried to take a step after him, and fell to her knees as the roots held her feet immobile. The pines wrenched at her hair and she blinked back tears of pain. "Tam!"

He didn't turn around, and now she could see the lights. Blue faerie-fire, glimmering and beckoning. The music was louder now, almost impossible to ignore. Obviously Tam had fallen under its spell. She called his name again, but he kept going without a backward glance.

She had to get free by herself - and fast.

Brute force wasn't doing it. She looked at the roots, then hefted her staff again. She needed a different spell. What would work against plants? She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the hammering of her pulse.

Heat. A soothing warmth that would coax the plants to wilt and droop like leaves on a hot summer day. Could she summon a gentler form of her lightning? Opening her eyes, she coaxed the spell to life, making waves of heat shimmer from the crystal set at the end of her staff.

For a long minute, nothing happened. Then the roots binding her ankles eased and the painful tangling in her hair lessened. Barely breathing, she kept sending warmth at the roots, the bushes snagged in her skirts, the pine branches overhead. At last, with a creaking sigh, the plants let go.

Yes! Jennet leapt to her feet and took a few hasty steps away. The roots lay quiet on the path, the pines no longer loomed over her.

But where was Tam?

The forest was utterly still. Heart pounding, Jennet picked up her skirts and ran in the direction he'd disappeared. Surely she'd catch sight of him just ahead.

But there was no Tam. Her fear swelled into the edges of panic. Deep in the forest something glinted. A flash of light, reflected off silver armor.

Lungs burning, she forced herself to go faster. The underbrush pressed against her, thorny brambles and thick-leaved skunk-cabbage, but she was getting closer to the lights. They resolved into glowing balls bobbing through the thinning trees. The ground softened, and in moments she was slogging through the shallow water of a bog.

A bog! Oh no. Wisps. Those were the pale balls of light, not help from the Seelie faeries. Tam was following marsh wisps, and they were luring him to his doom.

She caught sight of him up ahead, striding through knee-deep water.

"Tam!" she called, her voice high with fear. "Come back!"

He didn't give any indication at all that he'd heard her. Instead he marched on, his face turned toward the pale orbs that floated ahead. Panic gave her a spurt of energy. She splashed forward through the murky water and caught his arm.

"Stop," she cried, almost losing her footing. "Tam, you're following will o' wisps."

He still didn't look at her, but this time he spoke. "Can you hear it? It's the most beautiful..."

Clearly Tam was entranced. She circled in front of him and placed herself squarely in his path. Her feet were beginning to sink into the soft mud, and the water was almost up to her hips.

"You have to listen to me," she said, putting one hand out. "Tam Linn, you have to--"

He tried to slosh around her, and then stopped, shaking his head. The soft music seemed to grow louder and the wisps bobbed around them in a semi-circle of cold light. With a jolt of panic, she saw that the water was crawling up Tam's armor. He was sinking.

"No!" She pointed her staff at the closest wisp and shot a bolt of white flame at it.

The wisp flared, then disappeared, leaving behind the smell of rotten vegetables. Jennet tried not to breathe in the stench as she shot the next wisp, then the next. From the corner of her eye, she saw Tam was up to his chest. He was going down fast.

Calling on all her energy, she sent a wave of fire rippling from her staff. The rest of the wisps ignited, their reflections blurring the water. Then they were gone, burned away to nothing.

"Jennet?" Tam blinked, as if his eyes had been focused someplace else. "What happened?"

"Wisps." She gripped her staff tight and let out a shaky breath. "They lure people into the bog, to drown."

Tam grimaced. "Sorry - I shouldn't have followed them. That was dumb."

"You were ensorcelled. But yeah, it was." She grabbed his hand. "Come on, we have to get out of here."

"Um, we have a problem." He didn't move. "I'm stuck."

"Ok, here." She handed him her staff. "Use this for leverage. I'm going to push you from behind. Ready?" She went around him and laid her hands on the cool metal of his back. Chilly water lapped at her wrists.

"Stupid armor," he said. "Ok, go."

Her feet slipping, Jennet leaned and shoved and heaved, and finally, with a sucking splash, Tam stumbled forward.

"Keep going," she said. "There's solid ground just a little further on."

They sloshed toward the trees, pushing past lily pads and thin reeds, until the water was below their knees. Jennet let out a long breath and shivered. They'd come too close to disaster. Another minute, and Tam would have been a victim of the bog. Would he have woken in real-life, gasping and choking? Would she have logged off to find him limp and lifeless in the sim-chair?

She shuddered, grateful to step out of the slimy water to the firmer ground of the forest. Tam was right beside her. His feet came free with a disappointed squelch, as if the bog wasn't pleased to let him go.

"Thanks for the rescue," he said, ducking his head.

"Yeah, well, we have to look out for each other here. You saved me last time. I figure it was my turn, right?" Her gown was clammy against her legs, and her shoes were filled with mud, but a crazy relief moved through her. "We make a good team."

"True enough." A smile flashed through his eyes, quickly gone. "Now what? Back into the forest?"

"I'm not sure I could find the path again. And I'm not a big fan of the trees attacking us, either." She glanced around. The misty light made it hard to see, but to their right she thought there was some kind of a structure. "Do you see something over that way?" She gestured. "A bridge, maybe?"

He squinted. "Yeah, I think so. Let's go check it out."

As they got closer, the shape resolved into a stone-arched bridge. Which meant a road. Which meant that they could find a quest-giver and start progressing to the next level of the game - before it caused them permanent harm.

The bridge was tall, the road running on an embankment high above the murky bog. Deep shadows filled the spaces between the arches, and Jennet eyed the darkness. Anything could be lurking in there.

"Hm," Tam said. "Did you ever hear that old story about the three goats trying to cross a bridge?"

"I was thinking the same thing. I bet there's a troll - or some kind of guardian - under there."

"Then we better give it something if we want safe passage across. What do you think - a goat?"

"I don't think I can summon a goat. Besides, that's just wrong." She thought a moment, and then summoned some bread, honeycomb, and berries. Her hands overflowed with the offerings.

"Here." Tam held out a basket. "Put them inside and rest a second. I'll take it up to the edge of the archway."

She placed everything in the basket, then wiped the stickiness off her hands with her damp skirt. The usual weariness from summoning twined around her, making her arms feel heavy.

"Do you think it's going to be enough?" she asked.

"If I were a hungry troll under a bridge, this would be a feast. Throw in a pizza or two, and an army could cross over - even if everything's banana flavored."

"Hopefully it's not too picky about taste." She held her breath and watched as Tam carried the basket up to the shadowy arch.

"Hey, troll," he said, setting their offering of food down. "We'd like safe passage over your bridge. Here's a little something for you to eat."

There was no response. Had they been wrong?

"Try again," Jennet said. "Maybe it's sleeping."

He raised his voice and repeated the words. This time, there was movement in the dark recesses. Tam slowly backed up until he was standing beside her. He pulled his sword from his sheath with a low hiss.

A large, pasty-looking hand reached out from the shadows. It seized the basket, thick yellow fingernails curving around the handle, and drew it under the bridge. Jennet caught a glimpse of a doughy face and a mouthful of long, pointed teeth.

There was a chewing noise, and then a low sigh, like wind over stone.

"You may pass," the creature under the bridge rasped.

"Quick," Tam murmured, taking her arm and pulling her up to the embankment. "We don't want it to change its mind."

They hurried across the bridge, following the stone blocks stretching over the bog. With every step, the back of Jennet's neck prickled. Halfway across, the bridge shivered. The troll was getting restless.

"Faster," she whispered to Tam. "I don't want to be dessert." It was too easy to imagine that yellow-nailed hand reaching up and grabbing her ankles.

She and Tam sprinted the last few feet to safety as the bridge gave a final shudder. Then she looked up, and blinked in surprise.

The landscape had shifted while they traveled across the bridge, the rough-hewn stones of their path giving way to a dirt road bounded by low rock walls. The bog lay shrouded in mist behind them, while ahead, fields stitched the countryside. The setting sun was caught in the clouds.

"Sunset," Tam said, nodding at the rays slanting red across the sky. "What does that mean?"

"It means we're not as deep in as we were." She let out a low, shaky breath.

"Is that a good thing?"

"It depends. If we complete another quest at this level, the next ring will lead us closer to the Court. But we have to find somebody to give us one, soon."

"Yeah." He rubbed his forearm. "So, where does this road go?"

"I'm not sure." She glanced at the winding lane ahead. "Nothing seems familiar."

"I guess we follow it and find out," Tam said. "Stay close."

"Hey! I'm not the one who wandered off into the forest."

"We still have to stick together." He lifted one eyebrow. "A team, remember?"

Despite the seriousness of their situation, Tam was always more relaxed in-game. It made her smile a little, inside.

It didn't take long before the road dipped into a valley. At the bottom was a standing stone, a huge sentinel at least thirty feet high, gilded red by the setting sun. The wind lilted around them, almost a melody.

And then it _was_ a melody - a sweet plucking of strings, the humming of a baritone voice.

Tam stopped. "Do you hear that? Is it more wisps?"

"It's not wisps." Shading her eyes with one hand, she squinted down the lane. There was a figure seated at the base of the stone, playing the guitar. Her heart gave a lurch. "Oh god. I think it's..."

She leaned forward into a tilting run, her legs pushing hard against the earth while her pulse hammered through her. It couldn't be. And yet, in Feyland, who could say what was possible?

CHAPTER NINETEEN

"Wait!" Tam called from behind her. "Who is it?"

As she hurtled down the road, the man set aside his guitar and rose. He opened his arms and she flew into them.

"Thomas!" Tears ran salty into her mouth. She clung to him, her father's old friend, so familiar despite the odd clothes he wore. "I can't believe it. You're all right."

"Well, now." He gave her a final squeeze, then set her back at arm's length. "You might want to tell your friend with the blade not to chop off my head."

Jennet whirled to see Tam running toward them, his sword gleaming at the ready. "Tam, wait! This is a friend." She couldn't stop crying.

"Really. You don't look too happy about it." He didn't sheathe his weapon.

She pulled her sleeve across her face, trying to dry her eyes. "Tam Linn." Her voice still wobbled. "Let me introduce you to Thomas. Thomas Rimer."

Tam's expression went wary. "Wait a minute. Isn't that the programmer - the guy you said died?"

"But he didn't!" She turned to Thomas. "You're here. We have to get you out of Feyland and back into the real world."

"Jennet, stop." Thomas's voice was full of sorrow. "There is no return for me."

"What? Of course there is." She grabbed his arm. It was solid, real.

Thomas shook his head. "I'm the Queen's Bard now. I made a bargain with her, and it cannot be broken. I belong to the Court."

"What do you mean?" But there was a chill in her stomach. She knew how it felt to lose a part of herself to the queen. Had Thomas given away everything?

"We could help you get free," Tam said, sliding his sword back into the scabbard.

"My thanks," Thomas said. "But even if you could break the bonds that hold me here, I have no form in your world to return to. My body is gone, is it not? I left it behind when I followed the queen's call."

"But..." Jennet swallowed hard against the grief shaking through her. How could she have found Thomas here, only to lose him again?

"So," Tam said, "You don't really exist?"

Thomas gave him a weary smile. "What is real? What is illusion? Am I just a memory conjured from Jennet's mind? Am I a wayward bit of programming, hidden deep inside a computer game? Am I one of the fey-folk now? It is for you to decide - and there may be no true answer."

"I'll never see you again?" Jennet tried not to wail the words.

"Of course you will." Thomas ruffled her hair in an old, familiar gesture. "I will help you in every way I can. But tell me. What month is it, what day, in your world?"

"October nineteenth," Tam said. "Why?"

Worry creased the bard's forehead. "The days grow short - but there is still time."

"Time for what?" Jennet asked. "What's going on?"

"Come sit with me," Thomas said. "I will tell you what I know."

He took up his guitar, and then leaned against the weathered standing stone. Bits of melody drifted around them as he strummed the strings, coaxed free by his nimble fingers.

Jennet sank down beside him, but Tam remained standing in the middle of the road, his arms crossed. Thomas continued to play, as if there was nothing urgent or remarkable about the situation - two kids in the middle of a computer game, talking to a man five weeks dead.

"Tam, come on." Jennet frowned at him. "Don't you want to hear this?"

"It is better if he does," Thomas said, still strumming his guitar. "I cannot speak loudly, in case someone, or some _thing_ , is listening."

"Fine." Tam stalked over to them. His green eyes were wary as he glanced at Thomas.

The older man nodded. "It's good that you have such a champion, Jennet. You're going to need every bit of his courage in order to win free of the Dark Queen. And you must do so - before the end of the month."

"But why?"

"Samhain." Thomas played a minor chord, and Jennet shivered at the sound. "The faeries remember when they could pass freely in and out of the mortal realm, making mischief, taking lovers, sowing ill deeds and magic in their wake. The Dark Queen has promised them that time will come again."

"So, what happens at the end of October?" Tam asked. Then he shook his head. "You're kidding me. This is some cheap horror vid isn't it? Something creepy happens on Halloween?"

"It is much older and deeper than that," Thomas said. "All Hallow's Eve is a time when the walls between the worlds grow thin. The time when a gateway to the human world could be opened. Under the right circumstances."

"What circumstances?" Jennet asked, swallowing the fear climbing up her throat. She was afraid she already knew the answer.

"A tiend." Thomas's voice was sober.

"English, please," Tam said.

"A sacrifice," Jennet whispered. "And... I'm it." She turned to Thomas, suddenly cold to her bones. "Aren't I?"

He nodded, his eyes infinitely weary, infinitely sad. "The Realm of Faerie is dying. It's slow, almost invisible, but the rulers of the courts know it is happening. They cannot survive without an infusion of human energy."

"Energy?" she asked. "Is that what the Dark Queen took from me?"

"And is taking. You must feel it, Jennet, the slow drain on your soul. That is the faeries' need."

"Right." Tam folded his arms. "The computer game is stealing Jennet's _energy_. Faeries and dead guys and sacrifices. Come on, Jennet, this isn't Thomas. It's some broken NPC."

"Wait." She glared at him. "We need to hear this, to figure out what's going on." She focused back on Thomas. "So, the faeries are some kind of psychic vampires? I don't remember reading anything about that."

Thomas kept strumming his guitar, the chords a soft backdrop to his voice. "These are desperate times for them, Jennet. And human energy can mean many things. A dream. A prank. A maiden's kiss, a bowl of milk, a stolen child. Music. And sometimes, a life."

"I don't believe this." Tam pushed away from them and began pacing. "I mean - this is just a _game_. A computer program. Stuff like that doesn't happen in the real world."

Thomas followed him with a sad gaze. "But this isn't the real world, is it? The between-places have always been the province of the faeries. Dusk and dawn. The cross-quarters of the year. Why not the space we call virtual reality? It's as _between_ a place as you will find. Real, but not real. You are here, but not quite here. And here does not quite exist."

His words fell like stones into a dark pool. Jennet could see them rippling inside Tam. He was smart - surely he would see that Thomas was right.

The red sun touched the horizon, and a sound echoed across the fields - a low, mournful call that sent a shiver through Jennet.

Tam whirled. "What was that?"

"The summoning horn of the Wild Hunt," Thomas said. "They will ride at dusk, and the two of you must be gone from here." He stepped away from the tall stone and slung his guitar over his back.

"What about you?" Jennet grabbed his hand. She wasn't ready to let Thomas go again, so soon.

"Do not worry for me." He smiled down at her. "As the Queen's Bard, I will come to no harm. But you and your knight must make haste."

"I can't leave you," Jennet said.

"You must." Thomas squeezed her hand, then turned and pointed. "Follow the road east until you reach a stand of white trees. The passage to the next ring is there. And Tam Linn - follow your heart, and keep your lady safe. Now, go."

Before Jennet could say goodbye, Tam grabbed her arm and pulled her down the road. She twisted, waving to Thomas, but the sun was in her eyes. All she could see was a shadow beside the standing stone.

"Come on," Tam said. "Your crazy friend said we needed to hurry."

To underscore his words, the deep horn sounded again. The last bit of light was caught on the crests of the stone walls. Soon it would be twilight. And the Wild Hunt would be after them.

CHAPTER TWENTY

**T** am kept his grip on Jennet's arm, kept her moving forward. That was some insane stuff going on back there. The 'dead' programmer... he wasn't sure he believed it, that someone could get sucked into a game like that. And the dark faeries creating some kind of gateway into the human world by sacrificing Jennet? Totally crazy.

Yet it all made a kind of creepy, convoluted sense. He needed time to think.

Right now, though, they needed to get out of Feyland.

"Jennet - what is the Wild Hunt?"

"It's a ghostly gathering of huntsmen and hounds. According to legend, if you see them you either go crazy or die." She glanced back over her shoulder. "I don't know what happens if they catch us."

"We're not sticking around to find out."

The last bit of light slipped out of the sky. In the distance behind them, he heard a series of excited yips, then the baying of hounds. The worst part was, he understood the cries. _Scent! Blood! Our prey!_ The Hunt was on their trail.

"Now, we run," he said.

He let go of Jennet's arm and took her hand. He didn't think she'd turn around and try to go back to Thomas, but no way was he letting her fall behind. Thomas's last words repeated in his head, matching the pace of his running steps, the push of breath through his lungs. Keep your lady safe. Lady safe.

She wasn't _his_ lady, of course - except in the sense that he was a knight, and her in-game champion. Or something. But no matter what, he would keep her safe.

Maybe the faeries _were_ planning to use her life to open a gateway between the worlds. His blood chilled at the thought. No way did he want the creatures in-game showing up in the real world. Games weren't fun if you couldn't turn them off.

"Slow... down," Jennet panted.

"We can't." He scanned the edge of the road. "Do you see anything that looks like white trees?"

A sound like far-off thunder rolled through the air. Tam looked behind them. There was a growing darkness in the sky. Shapes, forming out of the clouds. But these weren't the kinds of things kids saw in clouds - no dinosaurs or cartoon faces. These were spectral hounds with huge, shining eyes, and half-human figures on galloping black horses. And at the front, the leader of the hunt, a huge dark figure with antlers spiking up above his head. The Huntsman turned and Tam felt his attention focus on them, like a spear of black ice.

The entire Wild Hunt was visible now, a dozen mounted figures riding hard toward them. He could see the flash of hooves, the glowing eyes of the hounds. Panic pushed him and Jennet forward. The breath rasped in and out of his throat. Trees - where were the damn trees? There! A scatter of white up ahead marked the grove.

He risked another look behind them, and then wished he hadn't. The hounds were too close, tongues hanging from their mouths, black paws eating up the distance. He and Jennet weren't going to make it.

He let go of her hand and turned to face the hunt. Fear and adrenaline pumped through him as he drew his sword. If he made a stand, slowed the hunt for even a minute, she could get away.

"Go!" he shouted. "I'll hold them off."

"No. Not without you." She stopped running and doubled back to stand with him.

"Jennet!"

"Together or nothing, Tam."

There was no more time for arguing - the Hunt was upon them. Tam pointed his sword at the nearest hound, waiting for it to get in striking range. The wind whipped Jennet's pale hair around her face and she raised her staff. She gestured, and a searing white light flashed out from where they stood, making Tam wince.

The hounds yelped and tumbled and the riders milled confusedly, but Tam could feel the Huntsman's attention still fastened on them.

"Come on! That will only hold them for a minute." Jennet grabbed his shoulder and they sprinted into the shelter of the trees.

The white bark glowed softly, lighting their way. They dodged around the trunks, and finally, finally stumbled into the faerie-ring clearing. Nothing had ever looked as good as the circle of mushrooms before them.

Jennet leaped into the center, but before Tam could follow, something took hold of his leg and yanked. Pain slammed through his senses and he glanced down to see a coal-black hound, its teeth locked around his calf. He pulled his sword and slashed at the hound, who twisted its body out of the way.

"Tam!" Jennet cried.

She had her staff pointed at his attacker, but he didn't think she could get a clear shot - not with the way the creature was shaking and pulling at him. He cut downward again, connecting this time. The hound let out a muffled yelp, but didn't let go.

On the outskirts of the trees, dark figures were silhouetted. Then the leader strode forward, the shadow of his antlers reaching toward Tam. Fear seized him in its strong fist.

He took his sword in both hands and drove it down, point-first. There was a spray of something hot and sickening across his face, and the hound let go with a screeching whimper.

"Hurry!" Jennet's voice was high and panicky.

He scrambled to the ring, his left leg not quite working. Jennet reached for him with both hands and he managed to get inside without trampling any of the mushrooms.

An angry cry resonated through the clearing. Just before the swirl of golden light surrounded them, Tam saw the Huntsman. His cloak billowed out and his antlered helm was lit with an eerie light. The figure lifted one hand and pointed at them, but it was too late. The Wild Hunt's prey had escaped.

"Ow!" Tam tried to pull his leg away, but Jennet held him firmly. He slouched back on the gaming-room couch and tried not to look at the bloody bite in his leg.

"Hold still. We have to disinfect this." Jennet swiped again at the punctures, and he tried not to flinch.

Good thing she'd had an emergency kit in her bathroom. Of course, this was the kind of house that would be well-stocked for any eventuality. A bite from a nightmare hound? No problem. He sucked in his breath as she poked at his injury.

"Hey," he said, "you'd complain too, if your leg had just been used as a chew toy by some demon dog. How come, when things get rough in-game, we can't just hit the exit button?"

"There isn't one." She frowned. "It's one of the things the designers are working on. We could 'escape' out, but that re-sets the whole game. We'd be back at Fynnod's cottage again."

"It might be better than being run to ground by the Wild Hunt. Although - that spell you used on them was pretty effective. What was it?"

"A light flash with a sonic blast. Too high for us to hear, but I thought it would get to the animals."

"Nice choice - I never would have thought of something like that."

She smiled a little, then rummaged in the emergency kit. "I don't think you'll need stitches. Just a little plas-skin to get you through."

She lifted the can and sprayed, the contents sealing and soothing the bite. Welcome numbness spread through his leg, and Tam let out a low sigh. Jennet laid a bandage over his wounds and tucked the can of plas-skin away. When she looked at him again, her expression was serious.

"So, are you convinced now?" she asked. "Feyland is dangerous."

"Yeah - it's dangerous. To you, to me, maybe even the whole world, if what Thomas said is true."

He glanced down at the bandaged bite. There was no fooling himself that he'd somehow gotten hurt on the way home - not like last time.

"I'm sorry, Tam. I never meant for you to get hurt. I was just so afraid, and I couldn't get back in alone..." She looked away from him.

"I don't blame you, Jennet. But this isn't just your fight any more. What if the creatures in Feyland got through? We can't let that happen."

For a moment he flashed on a horrible image of the Wild Hunt riding through the streets of the Exe. His little brother, his mom, chased down and savaged by hounds with glowing eyes.

"I... I never wanted to put you in danger, too," she said, her voice low.

She looked so miserable that he reached out and took her hand. It felt different than when he touched her in-game. The contact with her slim fingers jolted through him, but he didn't pull away.

"Hey," he said. "Sometimes we don't really have as much control over things as we think. We're in this together now. Ok?"

"All right." She squeezed his fingers and an odd, breathless silence fell between them.

Tam cleared his throat. "I think I can stand now."

Still holding his hand, she slowly drew him up. Their faces were close - so close he could feel her breath against his cheek. His heart raced, as if they were running from the Wild Hunt again. Her lips looked really soft.

_"Miss Jennet."_ HANA's metallic voice sounded through the room.

Jennet jumped back and dropped Tam's hand. "Um, yes?"

_"Would you like to have the car summoned?"_

"Sure, go ahead and call George." Jennet gave him a weak smile and moved toward the hallway. "Guess it's time for you to go."

"Yeah, I should get home."

Home, where his mom was slowly pulling herself together. He didn't kid himself that she was better, but every day that she was around and functioning was worth remembering. He stuck his hands in his pockets and followed Jennet down the stairs. At least his leg felt good enough to walk on.

"See you tomorrow," she said when they got to the door. Her gaze met his and held, her blue eyes clear and full of honesty. "And Tam... thank you."

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

That night, the Dark Queen haunted Tam's dreams. Her midnight hair brushed his face while she whispered promises in his ear. She smelled of stars and roses.

Tam woke in the darkness, the scent of her still caught in his mouth. He lay awake, the silence broken by his brother's soft snores, and tried to catch hold of the bits of dream floating in his mind. It was no use. He couldn't remember her clearly enough. The only thing left was her laugh, sparkling like moonlight on frost.

When he woke again, sunlight was trickling into the room. His alarm buzzed beside him like an angry bee.

"Get up," the Bug said from the couch, then yanked his own pillow over his head.

"You, too." Tam sat up and pushed out of his sleeping bag. He smelled coffee. Mom must be up already - and cheerful as only her medication could make her.

"Good morning to the best boys in the world," she said, coming in from the kitchen.

She handed Tam a mug of strong, milky coffee. Her hands shook, but Tam ignored the trembling and took a sip.

"Thanks - it's delicious." It didn't matter that both the coffee and the milk were made from powder. Coming from her, it was the best thing in the world.

"Mmf," his brother said.

"Hot chocolate for you." There was a teasing note in Mom's voice. She was so much better than he was at getting the Bug up and ready for school. When she was around.

When she wasn't, Tam always ended up yanking the covers off his little brother and resorting to threats. He didn't like it any better than the Bug, but nothing else seemed to work.

"Will you be home after school today, or are you seeing your friend again?" she asked.

"Uh." He shifted and took a minute to find a shirt that wasn't too dirty from the pile next to his bedroll. "Do you need me to come back right away?"

"Oh, honey." She gave him a smile that lit her eyes. "I don't mind either way. Peter and I keep good company. When he's awake that is." She cleared her throat, and his little brother suddenly sat up and started pulling on his clothes.

"Maybe I'll go over to Jennet's house again. If that's ok."

His mom spread jelly on a piece of bread for the Bug's breakfast. "Jennet. So that's her name. Do you still spend time with Marny, too?"

"Yeah. Though it's been a while." He hoped she wasn't too pissed about it.

"I'm glad you have friends, Tam. Have fun this afternoon."

Fun, yeah. Hopefully that wouldn't include more in-game mangling. "I'll be back in time for dinner."

"That would be nice. I'll make your favorite potatoes. And if your friend Jennet wants to come, she's welcome. I'd like to meet her."

Tam stared at the floor. Guess Mom didn't remember opening the door for Jennet, or the wrist-chip that was so out of place here in the Exe. Didn't remember the patina of wealth that lay over Jennet, making their place look dingy and derelict in comparison.

He sighed. "Ok Mom, thanks for the offer. I'd better get going."

"Bye, honey." She gave him a kiss on the cheek as he went out the door.

It was painful, her affection - it made the emptiness when she was gone even worse.

"So what's up with your system?" Marny asked Tam at lunch.

"Spread out all over the floor, that's what. The Bug's working on it though." The kid was even making some progress, though it was going to be a long time before his rig was playable. If ever. He took a bite of mushy noodles.

"You going to Zeg's to play, then?"

"No." He finished chewing. "I've been simming at Jennet's."

"Ah." There was a world of understanding in the big girl's voice.

He didn't have to say that his mom was back, or defend his actions. No explanations necessary.

Marny glanced past him. "Speaking of Miss Fancy-pants..."

"You calling my name?" Jennet asked, setting her tray beside Tam's.

She sat down and flashed a quick smile across the table at Marny. Then she looked at Tam and her smile tilted a little, unsure.

Marny pointed her fork at them. "You guys simming this afternoon?"

"Yes," Tam said, at the same moment that Jennet said, "No."

The other girl raised an eyebrow. "That kind of mutual understanding is really inspiring, you know. Keep it up."

Tam sent Marny a warning glance, but she just looked at him, like she was trying not to grin.

Jennet touched his arm. "How's your leg feeling?"

Her eyes were troubled, and he knew she was trying to remind him of how dangerous Feyland was. But it wasn't her choice. Not only did she need his help, things would get severe for _everyone_ if the Dark Realm opened a gateway between the worlds.

"My leg is great." He swiped his hair away from his eyes, so that Jennet could see how serious he was. "What are you doing for Halloween? Got plans?"

She stilled and her blue eyes widened. Yep - direct hit. He didn't think he'd hear any more argument from her about how he shouldn't play.

Marny was looking back and forth between the two of them. "Planning a party or something?"

She clearly could tell they were talking in layers here, but there was no way for her to guess how very deep they were.

"Something," Tam said. "We'll let you know."

Too bad Marny wasn't a simmer. She was smart and level-headed - two things that would be assets if she ever set foot in Feyland. But that wasn't going to happen.

She gave a quick nod, her black hair swinging above her shoulders. "Alright." Her gaze moved to Jennet. "Whatever's going on, watch out for each other."

"We will." Jennet's voice was steady, though he knew she was worried.

He'd be worried, too, if he were marked as a human sacrifice.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Jennet tried not to glance at Tam too often during the drive to her house after school. Something had changed between them. Or at least, she thought it had. Yesterday, after escaping the Wild Hunt, after Tam finally and truly believed her, she had felt so close to him. She had even wanted to kiss him.

Heat crept into her cheeks and she made herself look out the window so he wouldn't notice. It was just a crush. And no wonder - he was her knight in shining armor. In a virtual sense, anyway. Plus, they were good together. Solid partners in-game. Getting to be friends, out.

She wasn't getting the same interested vibe from Tam now, though - not like she had yesterday. Which was good. Really it was. Boy-girl stuff would just make things too complicated.

Maybe later, after they had defeated the queen and figured out how to deal with Feyland, she could go thinking about kisses. But right now it was dumb of her to be so aware of Tam sitting quietly beside her in the back seat. Dumb to notice how his leg touched hers when the grav-car took a corner. Dumb to imagine brushing the hair out of his face and getting a good, long look into those guarded green eyes.

"So," Tam said. She felt him turn to look at her. "What now?"

She hoped her blush had faded. "We finish the game."

"No. We _win_ the game."

"Ideally, yes." She glanced at the front seat, to where George was piloting the grav-car, then raised her eyebrows at Tam in warning. Better they not say too much where he could overhear.

Tam nodded. "So. How'd you do on that surprise quiz in history today?"

They talked about school for the rest of the ride. It wasn't until they were in the gaming room, with the jammer on, that Jennet felt secure.

"We have the rest of the month to get to Court and defeat the queen," she said. "It's going to take three, maybe four game sessions. Provided we succeed at each level, and don't get in serious trouble." Like running into the Wild Hunt again.

"Two weeks." Tam frowned and leaned against one of the gaming chairs. "That's cutting it close, if what Thomas said is true."

"And how 'true' was your gnawed-on leg, yesterday? Or have you forgotten that part?" Worry circled in her stomach.

"Ok." He pushed his hair out of his eyes, only to have it fall back down again. "Obviously the game is interfacing with another world. One that can affect our reality, at least a little."

"More than a little," she said. "The day I came over to your place and met, um..." She didn't want to mention his mom, and by the shuttered look on Tam's face, neither did he. "Anyway, on the way there, two zombed-out guys tried to give me trouble."

"Hell." He fisted his hands. "Did you run?"

She tasted her remembered fear. "No, they had me boxed in. But - and this is the weird part - my mage staff appeared."

"Your staff? As in, a long piece of wood with a crystal on the top?"

"I know. I didn't believe it either."

"What did you do, whack them with it?"

"No. I blasted them."

Tam had a way of drawing his eyebrows slightly together when he was thinking hard. She could just see it behind the scrim of his hair. Abruptly, he straightened. Concentration clear in every line of his body, he held out one hand, fingers curved.

"Are you - ?"

"Shh," he said, his hand still extended. After another few, silent, moments, he shook his head. "No luck."

"You were trying to summon your sword?"

"Yeah. Maybe it only works if there's great need."

"However it happened, it saved me. I knocked one guy out, and the other one took off. Maybe, like Thomas said, the boundaries between the worlds get thinner around this time of year."

He let out a low breath. "I'm still trying to get how Thomas - or his spirit, whatever - could be inside the game."

"He's not _in_ the game. He's in the Realm of Faerie, but can interact with us through the game. You read that book I lent you. Faeries are great at enticing humans into their world. And their realm is every bit as real as ours."

Tam got that thinking look again. "So, Feyland is just an anteroom between our world and the Dark Realm of Faerie?"

"You have to admit, it makes a weird kind of sense."

He nodded. "Then, after we save you, how do we make sure the door on our side stays locked?"

It was an excellent question.

"Maybe Thomas will have some ideas," she said. "Because I sure don't."

"We'll figure something out." He slid into the sim chair. "Come on. We have a game to win."

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Tam relaxed as the game's golden light surrounded him. The moment of disorientation he felt when entering Feyland made sense now. It wasn't some trick of the visuals. It was an actual transition from the real world to - what had Thomas called it? A _between_ place.

This time, they arrived in a ring full of twilight shadows, with not even a hint of sunlight. That was good, right? Jennet had said the darker the level, the closer they were to the court. The thought sent a shiver through him. A dream-fragment caught in his memory; the satiny texture of the Dark Queen's hair, her midnight voice whispering forgotten promises.

"Tam? Are you coming?"

He gave himself a mental shake and looked up. Jennet had already stepped out of the mushroom ring and was watching him, her head tilted. The crystal on the end of her staff shed a bluish glow, illuminating the pale forest around them.

"You brought a flashlight," he said. It was a weak joke, but she smiled anyway.

"No following wisps this time, okay?"

"I expect you to poke me with that if I do." He nodded to the staff. "Lead on."

The pale trees grew farther apart here, interspersed with clearings full of silvery grasses. They hadn't walked for long when Tam became aware of a sound - a humming buzz coming from up ahead. Jennet halted.

"Do you hear that?" Her voice was hushed.

"Trouble?"

"I... I don't know. I've never seen this place before. Everything in the game is changing."

He set one hand on the hilt of his sword. When she started walking again, he was at her shoulder. If something jumped out at them, he could get between her and it in a heartbeat.

Nothing sinister happened, though. Just the noise getting louder until they reached a larger clearing, illuminated by a lantern set on a post. On the far side was a tumble-down hut, and just outside the door sat a bent old woman. The sound they had heard was coming from her spinning wheel.

"Come closer!" the spinner called, not pausing in her work.

The wheel in front of her turned at a furious pace as her foot worked the pedal. She had a handful of something that looked like cloud, which she was feeding into the wheel. Luminous white thread came out the other side.

"Greetings, goodwife," Jennet said.

The old woman looked at them then, her eyes deep-set and piercing. She nodded her lace-capped head and let the wheel slow.

"Fair Jennet. And bold Tamlin."

"Greetings." Tam made a bow, and then glanced at Jennet, waiting to follow her lead. Was this a threat, or just a diversion? It was impossible to tell if this was originally part of the game, or if it was all Faerie, or a combination of both.

The old woman let out a cackle. "Which of you will help me spin, thus further in the world to win?"

"I will." He took a step forward. It seemed that the old woman was their next quest-giver.

"Tam, no." Jennet caught hold of his arm. "It's too dangerous."

"All the more reason for me to do it."

A half-remembered bit of story snagged at his brain. Something about pricking a finger and falling into a deep sleep. Well, if he did, Jennet would just have to blast the old spinner by herself.

"We'll do it together," she said. There was a stubborn set to her jaw that said she wasn't backing down.

"Heh!" the old woman said. "Four clever hands will lead you into faerie lands." She stood and gestured to the wheel.

Tam perched on the stool and set one foot on the pedal. His booted foot looked cumbersome and strange beside the delicate wood. Hopefully he wouldn't break the thing.

"Ok." Jennet took up the downy stuff the old lady had laid aside. "Ready?"

He nodded and pushed down with his toes. The wheel began to spin. Jennet eased bits of the fluff forward between her hands, a look of concentration on her face. The thread they made wasn't smooth, but lumpy and awkward-looking. As it wound onto the wheel, it was obvious where the old lady's spinning had stopped, and theirs began.

"Faster," the crone cried. "Spin and turn, spin and turn."

Tam swore he wasn't pressing any harder, but suddenly the wheel sped up. The humming noise began again, vibrating down to his bones.

"Tam!" There was a panicky note in Jennet's voice.

"Keep going," he said.

Somehow he knew that if they stopped, they failed. And they couldn't afford to lose.

The wheel was a blur of motion - everything around them was twirling. He heard the old woman's voice, as if from far away, call, "Round and round, then reach the ground."

The stool vanished from beneath him and his teeth clacked together as he sat down hard. It was completely dark. He felt around in front of him, but the spinning wheel was gone.

"Jennet?" Fear stabbed through him. If they were separated....

"Here." She sounded breathless.

A moment later, bluish light bloomed as the crystal from her staff illuminated their surroundings. Rough-hewn rock enclosed them on three sides. The fourth led into the shadowy dark of a tunnel. Jennet stood beside him, both hands wrapped around her staff. He was sitting on a dirt floor, next to a heap of bones.

"Nice. Any idea where we are?" He clambered to his feet and nudged the pile of bones with his boot. They didn't look human.

"Some kind of cave - and I don't think much of the décor." She made a face at the bone-pile. "Let's get out of here."

Side-by-side they stepped forward into the dark opening. The tunnel was big enough that Tam didn't need to duck his head, and wide enough that their shoulders just brushed as they walked. He kept one hand firmly on his sword.

The way twisted and turned, and they came to a place where the tunnel split. There wasn't a clear choice - both tunnels were equally wide and dusty.

"Which way?" He kept his voice low. Just because they hadn't run into any creatures yet, didn't mean they were alone in here.

"Hm. Maybe this will help." Jennet extinguished her staff's light.

The darkness pressed against Tam's senses. He blinked a few times, to make sure his eyes were open. Then, very faintly, he saw a glow coming from the left-hand side. It was reddish and didn't seem too friendly, but it was better than nothing. Even if it led to trouble, fighting monsters would be a change from wandering lost in some dark and dusty cave.

He felt Jennet's hand on his shoulder and he nodded, though it was too dark for her to see. From here, they'd go without a light. No sense in advertising their presence. He stepped forward, keeping his pace slow in case they ran into any obstacles. Her hand was steady where she touched him, and she seemed happy enough to let him lead the way. Ahead, the red glow was a sullen smudge against the shadows.

The light grew imperceptibly brighter with every step, but no more welcoming. The tunnel curved, and he heard sounds - a low thumping, the strange sibilance of a language he couldn't recognize. A foul reek filtered through his nostrils; rotten food and singed hair. Eerie shadows danced on the rock wall, and the back of his neck prickled. He inched forward and quietly drew his sword. The ruddy light reflected off it like blood. What lay ahead?

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Jennet's hand tightened on his shoulder as they rounded the curve. Tam swallowed, throat suddenly dry, and peered around the corner. His heart was pounding, deep and low, like some big tribal drum. This was like going through the Exe, where at any second bad things could leap out at you. Except that the bad things here were straight out of a nightmare.

His hand squeezed the hilt of his sword and a shiver crawled down his back. He was staring into a huge cave full of grotesque, green-skinned creatures.

Some of them were dancing beside a bonfire filled with bones. Others scuffled and fought, their gnarled fingers clawing, their sharp teeth gnashing. They had long, pointed ears and wore a motley assortment of coverings. Tam saw the tatters of a velvet dress, a crudely-tanned hide with half the fur still stuck on, and the glint of haphazard bits of armor.

They all had one thing in common, though. Every one of the creatures was wearing a skullcap or hood the color of old blood. Behind him, he heard Jennet's sharp gasp.

"Red-cap goblins," she breathed into his ear.

Tam nodded, keeping his gaze on the creatures fighting and cavorting. The air was full of their guttural, hissing language. They looked like they wouldn't hesitate to tear him and Jennet to bits.

The fire flickered, and the goblins sent up a sudden rough cheer. A second later, Tam saw the source of their glee. There was another tunnel on the far side of the cave, and emerging from it were five goblins, dragging the corpse of a deer behind them. The creatures closest to it leapt on the dead animal, knives and teeth flashing.

A loud command made them back away, and from the right-hand side of the cave a figure rose. He was a little taller than the other goblins - which still made him shorter than Jennet. On his hideous head he wore a crown studded with rubies.

"Goblin King?" he mouthed to Jennet.

She nodded, her eyes wide and scared.

He looked at the far side of the cave again, to the dark tunnel the hunters had come from. That had to be the way out. But how were they going to get there?

The king was making some sort of speech, punctuated by thumps of his wickedly-barbed pike on the stone floor. Jennet pulled on Tam's shoulder and he slowly backed up until the goblins were hidden from view. Without a word they kept retreating until the red light was no more than a smudge against the darkness. Jennet's staff shed a faint glow, just enough to see their way.

"We need a plan," she finally said, her voice low. "Got any ideas?"

"We can't just fight our way through - there are dozens of them. Even if they're afraid of my sword, or your magefire, they'll overwhelm us with sheer numbers."

"And the Goblin King won't let us just traipse past, either. Unless..." She pressed her lips together.

"What?"

She shook her head. "I was thinking we could offer him a bribe - but he won't accept anything conjured, and that's all we have. Next time, remind me to wear lots of jewelry."

"Do you think it will come in-game with us?" he asked. "Never mind. Ok. Fighting is out, so is bribery. So somehow we're going to have to sneak undetected through a cavern full of hungry goblins."

Jennet took a strand of her pale hair and wound it around her finger. "Do you remember reading something in that book I lent you, Tam? Wasn't there a way to avoid the notice of evil faeries by wearing your clothing backwards?"

"I'm going to have to borrow that book again - and pay more attention." He hadn't known how essential the information in it would be. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to recall the page that listed protections against the faeries. "Let's see. Cold iron: we know that my sword works, but probably not against a whole roomful of creatures. Holy water: like we have any of that lying around. Oh wait, yeah. Clothing worn... not backwards, but inside-out."

"Do you think it will work?" She sounded nervous.

"We have to try." He pulled off one armored gauntlet. "I can't imagine trying to put my armor on inside-out. Do you think if I vanish this stuff, it will come back when I need it?"

"I don't know why not. All right, turn your back." She leaned her staff against the wall and gave him a look, eyebrows raised.

"Hey. No worries." He vanished his gloves, then turned to face the rough-hewn rock.

There was a silky swishing sound. Despite himself, he wondered what Jennet would look like in her underwear. Did these characters even have underwear? He'd find out in a minute, when he switched his own clothing.

"Done," she said.

Tam turned, fingers busy with the buckle of his sword-belt. "Are you sure you changed it? Your robe looks the same."

"Of course I changed." She smoothed one hand over the front of the silvery garment. "All the seams are showing - can't you tell?"

Not really. He shrugged off his breastplate, relieved to find he was wearing some kind of homespun shirt beneath. Next were his boots and the armor covering his legs. Brown pants - good. He didn't want to be flashing Jennet. Without waiting for him to ask, she turned away.

Quickly, he stripped off the simple clothing. There was underwear after all. He flipped the pants and shirt inside-out and put them back on. Then the sword. He was careful to twist the belt around, too, re-buckling it from the inside.

"Ok," he said. "Let's go find out how legit that old book is."

Jennet turned back around and nodded at him, her eyes big and scared-looking.

Way too soon they were back at the end of the tunnel. The Goblin King was still standing, and the deer had been dragged in front of him. It looked like the creatures were getting ready to have a feast. Tam glanced at Jennet, who looked even paler. He hoped the goblins would cook the deer and not just dismember and devour it on the spot. If she threw up it would break their cover for sure.

He jerked his head to the left, where the cavern was quieter. Most of the goblins were looking at the other side, where the king was. If he and Jennet stayed close to the wall, they should be safe.

Provided this clothing thing actually worked.

Fingers wrapped firmly around the hilt of his sword, Tam stepped into the ruddy light. He took a slow step forward, then another, barely daring to breathe. Five feet in. Then ten. The nearby goblins didn't seem to know he was there. He looked back to where Jennet stood in the shadows of the tunnel, and beckoned to her.

He could see her fingers clench around her staff, and for a second he wasn't sure she'd be able to take that first step. Then her shoulders straightened and she came forward, as slowly as he had. Once he was sure he wasn't leaving her behind, Tam started moving again. Maybe the goblins couldn't see them, but he wasn't betting on the ugly creatures not hearing or smelling them.

His nerves sparked, urging him to hurry, to run, but he kept his pace deliberate, forced his breathing to stay low and quiet. This was going to be a slow, dangerous journey.

Halfway around the cavern, he paused to let Jennet catch up. So far it had been simple enough to stay along the rock walls, but just ahead two goblins crouched against the stone. They were throwing white twigs on the ground, then scooping them up again in some kind of complicated gambling game. Tam looked closer and a chill snuck up his neck. Not twigs, but bleached finger-bones, knobby on one end.

The festivities on the other side of the cave were growing louder. He tried not to see what they were doing with the deer carcass. As soon as Jennet got close, he began edging out into the cave, giving the bone-throwing goblins a wide berth. Jennet followed him. When she was directly in front of the goblins, one of them stuck his long pointed nose in the air, nostrils flaring.

The goblin leaped to his feet and said something in the garbled language to his companion. It sounded urgent, and both Tam and Jennet froze. Had the creature scented them? The first goblin was waving his arms around. Then he pointed directly to where Jennet stood. The other goblin shook its head, and the first goblin leaped forward. Its arm brushed across Jennet's skirt, and both she and the creature let out a cry - though the goblin's was far more vicious.

Tam grabbed her hand and yanked her forward. Just in time. The goblin's knife hissed through the air where she had been standing. Tam and Jennet dashed through the cave, the two goblins following. They were making noise now, but they still seemed to be invisible. Distraction. He had to create some kind of distraction.

There - a battered copper pot lay against the wall. Tam caught it up with his free hand and flung it into the center of the feasting goblins. A lucky throw - it flew right past the Goblin King's head and struck the creature behind him.

The reaction was like kicking a hornet's nest. Chaos erupted in the cave. Goblins drew their weapons, and warlike shrieks filled the room. The two goblins tracking them began leaping up and down, waving their arms and pointing.

Jennet picked up a wooden shield and hurled it behind them. Screaming goblins converged on it, gouging it to splinters with their knives and claws.

"No more time for that," Tam said under his breath. "Run for it!"

Dodging and leaping, the two of them pelted for the tunnel. Almost there. Just a few more steps -

Clawed fingers sank into his arm, jerking him to a stop. He spun, to find he was face-to-hideous-face with the Goblin King.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

"Go!" Tam yelled at Jennet.

He tried to wrench himself away, but he couldn't break the king's grip. Left-handed, he scrabbled for his sword.

The Goblin King drew Tam closer, his yellow fangs terribly sharp, his eyes gleaming with malice. The hilt of the sword slipped out from under Tam's fingers and he felt the edge of panic. _Come on, sword!_ Finally, when it seemed the goblin was about to take a bite out of him, he got a solid grip and pulled the blade free.

"Ark!" the king screeched. He threw both clawed hands up to shield his grotesque face, and Tam scrambled backward into the tunnel.

From her place just inside the tunnel, Jennet shot a bolt of magefire at the Goblin King. He cried out again and staggered toward them, barking out commands. One long, crooked finger pointed toward the tunnel, and goblins surged forward.

"Let's go!" Tam shouted.

Jennet gave him a panicked look, then picked her skirts up with one hand and dashed down the tunnel. He was right behind her. The noise of goblins scurrying after them grew louder. At any moment, he expected to feel sharp claws digging into his back.

The tunnel branched, and Jennet went left. She didn't slow down, but he heard her panting for breath. Another branching, and she went right this time. They continued headlong, their way barely lit by the faint blue glow of her staff. The sounds of pursuit faded, but the back of Tam's neck still prickled. Those goblins didn't seem like the kind to give up easily.

"I have to rest," Jennet gasped, slowing down.

"Ok. I think it's safe for now." He faced back the way they had come, sword at the ready. The only sound was Jennet's breathing. After a moment, she stopped panting so hard. Tam's own breathing evened out, but he didn't let down his guard.

The tunnel was full of thick shadows. Then, suddenly, eyes shone in the darkness. A blur of sharp claws and red-capped creatures erupted toward them. Jennet gasped and began to run again, but Tam stayed behind. He swiped at the goblins, and the front ranks leaped back, yelping when his steel touched their flesh.

It was rapidly getting too dark to see. He whipped his sword at the goblins one more time, then whirled and sprinted after the faint blue glow of Jennet's staff.

It didn't take him long to catch up, which meant that the goblins would be closing fast, too.

"Quickly, come this way," a high, familiar voice piped.

"Puck!" Jennet said. "Where are you?"

A little brown hand beckoned from the shadows. Squinting, Tam could just make out a jaunty figure standing in a small opening in the tunnel wall. If the sprite hadn't spoken, they would have run right past.

"Are you sure that's Puck?" He was tempted to poke his sword at it.

"Hush your mortal mouths, and come," Puck said. "Or stay, and the redcaps will gnaw your bones."

"Tough choice," Jennet said, and slipped through the opening.

Tam hesitated. He didn't trust the little creature - or the company he kept. But it was either Puck or the goblins.

"Tam?" Jennet whispered.

He couldn't abandon her. He let out a breath and squeezed himself through the gap. It was a tight fit. Good thing he wasn't wearing his armor.

"Conceal your light," Puck said. "Softly now, softly." He waved his hands at the opening they had just come through.

Tam blinked. In the moment before Jennet's staff had vanished, taking its light with it, he thought he saw the tunnel walls close. Truth or trick?

Whether it was an illusion or not, the sounds of the goblins passing by were all too clear. Their guttural voices and the scritch of claws on stone made Tam's blood surge. His fingers clenched hard over his sword hilt and he held his breath. Finally, the last sounds of marauding goblins faded away. He let the air slip out between his teeth.

"You may summon your light again," Puck said.

A warmer glow pushed back the darkness this time. Tam looked over at Jennet. She was holding a glass lantern lit by a round ball of light.

She nodded at him. "You could summon one, too."

"Makes it too hard to fight." Still, he held the image in his mind. A moment later, a second lantern dangled from his fingers.

Despite the wave of tiredness that washed over him, there was something comforting about their twin lights. This part of the goblin tunnels seemed less menacing. Or maybe it was just having Puck with them, humming a tune as he led them forward.

"Um, Puck," Tam said, "Where are we going?"

"Here and there."

Jennet lifted her lantern. "As long as it's away from the goblins, I don't really mind where you take us."

"Don't say that." Tam gave her a warning look. "Aren't we trying to get closer to the court? I don't want to end up in the middle of a marsh again."

According to that book she had lent him, you had to be careful what you said around the fey-folk. There had been a whole chapter about bargains gone awry and the faeries' tricky ways.

"The knight can take you closer in," Puck said, "but if you need to go out, follow the stairway."

"Hold up." Tam stopped walking. "The knight? As in, the Black Knight? That's a no."

"But..." Jennet paused, looking from Tam to Puck.

The sprite laughed, the sound like high bells. "Do you fear to face him in single combat again, bold Tamlin?"

"I'd be a fool not to. And I don't need any more souvenir cuts to take home, thanks."

"He has already tested your mettle, bold champion. But you will need an escort if you desire to meet his Lady."

An odd exhilaration swept over Tam. "You mean the Dark Queen?"

"Puck, are you sure?" Now Jennet was the one who sounded uncertain. "I don't think we're ready. There are more layers to go through, aren't there? Like the Dark Forest and the Fey Fields--"

"The land is ever-changing," Puck said. "The roads you once traveled have shifted, and the places laid by Thomas the Bard are all but gone. The realm returns to its own."

Jennet looked worried. "So, you're taking us to the Black Knight, who will take us to the queen?"

"Jennet." Tam set his hand on her shoulder. "This is it, right? Boss fight? Isn't that the whole point of the game?"

"It can't be that simple."

"Why not?"

"Because that's not how the faeries operate. It's never straightforward." She curled her fingers into her palms. "We're not ready. There are things about that fight - things you need to know."

Puck was watching them, head cocked to one side. "Ah, Fair Jennet. How is it that you have not told your knight what exactly happened when the queen defeated you? Why have you not described the bounds of that battle, and its consequences?"

"I thought," she sounded suddenly very unsure. "I thought we'd have more time. I was going to explain everything, as soon as we got out today."

"What?" Tam stared at her, feeling like the ground had tilted under his feet. "Jennet - didn't you think that information might come in handy? Sooner, rather than later?"

"I..." She stood with her head bowed.

The lantern light glowed golden in her hair. For an instant, his dreams of the Dark Queen receded. He remembered the odd stillness he had first noticed about Jennet. Her paleness, that waxed and waned like the moon. There was an otherworldly quality about her - but he had gotten used to it. Had practically stopped seeing it. And then his mom was back and, well, he should have paid more attention.

"Jennet," he said. He couldn't help the edge in his tone.

"Yes?" Her voice was thin.

Damn, he hoped she wasn't going to start crying on him. Not that it would change the questions he needed to ask.

"Children," Puck said, "We have no time for this. The Knight is holding a doorway open. We must not wait, or it will be too late to leave the goblins' kingdom."

"All right." Jennet turned away from him and headed down the tunnel. Puck danced at her heels and sent him a mischievous look.

"But..." He was talking to empty air. Fine. He vanished the lantern and stalked after them.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Jennet hurried forward, barely noticing the rock walls on either side. Why hadn't she been more honest with Tam?

Okay, she knew why. Secrecy was a hard habit to break. And she hadn't wanted to frighten him off by revealing the price she'd paid. Besides, Thomas had told Tam that her energy was being taken by the queen. She hadn't explained any further, and right after that they had run for their lives from the Wild Hunt, so maybe that bit of info had gotten lost. Plus, the right opportunity had never seemed to present itself.

There was another reason, too. She hated admitting it, even to herself, but she had made a few stupid moves. If Tam knew how badly she had lost to the queen, he could lose all respect for her. His good opinion mattered. Had mattered for a while, more than she wanted to admit. She could imagine the contempt in his eyes when she told him - so she hadn't.

And now it could cost her everything.

"This way," Puck said, tugging on her inside-out robe to get her attention. "The Black Knight awaits us."

She looked up, realizing that she had marched right past another, smaller, tunnel with a purplish glow emanating from it. The thought of meeting the Dark Queen again made her whole body go cold. Her chest ached, and she recalled with sudden clarity the queen's delicate fingertips holding a crystal sphere. Those star-filled eyes had held hers, the queen had declared victory, and searing pain had ripped through her.

Jennet took a quick breath. "I really don't think the queen and I--"

"Come on." Tam had caught up. "Much as I wish we'd talked strategy, didn't Thomas say we needed to do this as quickly as possible?"

There wasn't anything she could say to that. She pressed her lips together as Tam brushed past, one hand on his sword hilt. Did he have to be so drastically courageous about everything?

Well, that was why she had chosen him. It was just - they weren't ready, either of them, to face the queen. It was too late now, though. Swallowing back her dread, Jennet vanished her cheery lantern and summoned her staff. The blue light pulsed oddly against the purple glow in the tunnel. Tam and Puck had gotten a few yards ahead, but she couldn't make her feet go any faster.

In fact, it seemed as if the glow was pressing against her. After several steps, she felt like she was moving through syrup. She couldn't hear anything, but ahead she saw that Tam and Puck had stopped in front of a glowing purple portal. The magical doorway was held open by the menacing figure of the Black Knight. He stood straddling the portal, one black-armored foot planted on the tunnel floor, the other set on a starlit hill. And behind him....

The Dark Queen.

Jennet couldn't breathe - until she realized that she wasn't the focus of that beautifully dangerous gaze. Tam was.

The queen smiled. High up in the air, faint frosty music played, borne by an invisible breeze. Her midnight hair stirred about her face, and she slowly reached her hand out. As if in a daze, Tam lifted his own.

"No!" Jennet pushed her staff through the thick air and sent a bolt hurtling toward the doorway.

It hit the purple light and sent up a shower of sparks. Puck leaped into the air and gave her an accusing look, then bounded across the threshold and disappeared. The Black Knight slowly lifted his foot from the rock floor.

Tam turned, a frown creasing the corners of his mouth. "Jennet, what the--"

"Don't go with her."

"I wasn't--"

_Too late._ It was a brush of sorrowful melody, breathed through the half-open doorway. Underneath it, Jennet could hear ice. She shivered.

Tam turned, but the portal was closing quickly.

"Wait," he called. There was something painful and yearning in his voice that Jennet pretended not to hear.

They watched in silence as the doorway shrank to a thin, purple line. Then it was gone. In the light of her staff, Tam's face looked pale and young. She didn't like it - didn't like him looking so lost and vulnerable. He was supposed to be the strong one, the heroic knight, not the one who needed saving.

"Why did you do that?" he asked. "We could have--"

"What? Met the queen on ground of her own choosing and lost right away? Or let her lead you over the hills while the Black Knight lopped my head off? Something about that setup wasn't right, Tam."

He shook his head, but not like he disagreed. More as though he was trying to clear his thoughts.

"Maybe." He wouldn't meet her eyes. "Now what? Puck took off. We get to wander around until the goblins find us again?"

"We can't stay here." She waved at the blank rock wall facing them. "Didn't Puck say something about finding the way out?"

"He said follow the stairway. I haven't seen any stairs though. Have you?"

"Not yet. But faeries can't lie. They can bend and twist the truth, or make you hear what you want to believe. But if Puck said there's a stairway, then there must be one."

"Good. I'm getting pretty tired of these caves." His hair had fallen back over his face.

Jennet started forward, not bothering to make some cheerful remark. Either they would get out, or the goblins would find and eat them.

At the place where their tunnel connected to the bigger one, she paused. Had they come from the left, or the right? All she remembered was pushing through purple light.

Tam came up beside her. He had re-summoned his armor, and it was a relief to see him ready for battle.

"Which way?" she asked.

He glanced both directions, frowning. "Wait a sec. Do you hear something?"

She held her breath. A faint sound, like dripping water or music, came from their right. "Yes. Let's follow it."

They walked quietly. The plunk and splash of single notes, single drops of water, grew louder, until it wasn't a hopeful echo in her ears, but something real and solid. It was both water _and_ music, and soon the notes became a melody - something she almost recognized.

Tam leaned closer, keeping his voice soft. "Is that an old ballad or something?"

"An old song, anyway."

The name of it teased her memory. With each step, the tune grew louder and more familiar. When she finally remembered, she almost laughed out loud.

"What's so funny?"

"It's a song called _Stairway to Heaven_. Thomas used to play it. In fact, that's probably him up ahead." For the first time since they ended up in the Goblin Kingdom, she felt like they were safe. Almost safe, anyway.

"Puck." Tam made a face. "Follow the stairway. Right."

Ahead, the tunnel grew lighter. In a few moments they stepped into another cavern. She sucked in her breath at the beauty of it. Delicate white stalactites draped from the roof. To one side, a bright blue pool of water reflected a ball of glowing light drifting in the center of the room. Music swelled and surrounded them, guitar notes played by a figure sitting on a pale boulder.

"Thomas!" she said. "I was right."

The bard smiled at her and finished the last run of notes. "Well met, Jennet." His expression sobered when he looked at Tam. "Tamlin. Beware the enticement of the Dark Queen. She weaves a shroud of enchantment that's nigh impossible to break."

Tam shifted, but didn't reply.

Thomas sighed. "What day is it in your world?"

"Just the twentieth," Jennet said. "We were here yesterday. Plenty of time still."

"I hope it is so." The bard's deep gaze rested on her a long moment. "The next time you enter the world, you will be at the edge of the Dark Court. Do not tarry. You must defeat the queen and reclaim what is yours, before the gateway opens."

"Yes, you've told us that before." Tam folded his arms. "Got any ideas about _how_ to defeat the queen? And what about making sure the door stays locked from our side?"

"Magic has a treacherous nature," Thomas said. "Coming from the mortal world as I do, I know little of it, nor the _how_."

"Some help you are."

"Hey." Jennet took a step forward. Why did Tam always get so irritated around Thomas? "He's helping us the best he can."

"The two of you must depart," Thomas said. "There is a faerie ring in the back of this cave that will take you home. But you must promise me that you will speak together. There are things each of you knows that are of great import."

Tam gave her a narrow-eyed look. "Like the details of a certain defeat at the hands of the Dark Queen. Little stuff like that."

"All right." She swallowed the dry fear in her throat. No putting it off any longer.

"Fare well, brave adventurers," Thomas said. He set his fingers on his guitar again, played a flourishing chord, and disappeared.

"Thomas..." She was talking to an uninhabited boulder.

"Come on." Tam jerked his head toward the back of the cave. "I can't wait to hear your explanation."

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Jennet lifted the gaming helm. She felt woozy from the passage back through the golden light.

"Well." Tam had unhooked from the system already. He stood beside her chair, arms folded. "I'm ready for that explanation."

"Give me a minute. Jeez." She sat up, then clambered out of the chair, on the opposite side from where he waited. "Want some tea? We could heat some water--"

"No. Talk."

There was no avoiding it. She let out a slow breath, then went across the room and perched on the couch in the sitting area. Tam slouched down in a chair across from her.

"All right," she began, but no more words would come out.

She bit her lower lip until it stung. Her stomach felt like she had swallowed a mouthful of that disorienting light. Tam just watched her from behind his hair, his green eyes wary. God, she hated how this was going to feel. She grabbed a pillow and hugged it across her middle.

"Ok," she tried again. "You know the kids with chips, the rich ones..."

The silence stretched between them, until he spoke. "The ones like you?"

"Yes." She squirmed inside. Time to lay it all out. "The snobs, the bullies, the _privileged_. The ones who will kick you for being a loser, the ones who know everyone else is worthless. Those kids. Exactly like me."

He frowned, though it wasn't directed at her. "You're not--"

"I was, though. Before." She drew in a deep breath.

"Before what?"

"Before we moved here. Before I lost to the queen. I was arrogant, just like that. I thought that appearance mattered more than what was inside. I mean, I knew better, a part of me did, but when you're surrounded by it..." She squeezed the pillow tighter. "Well, thinking like that becomes as natural as breathing. There was a kid at our school - and you need to know that it was a much richer school than the one here - anyway, she was so obviously poor, such a misfit. We made fun of her, all the time, of her raggedy clothes and hair that stuck out all over the place. She was different, and that made us, the privileged, that much tighter. Does that make sense?"

He nodded. That thoughtful expression was back on his face. At least he didn't look like he hated her. Yet.

"What happened to her?" he asked.

"Nothing too dire, if that's what you're thinking. But we treated her badly, in lots of little ways. She was still there when I left. Maybe things are better now, since I told the teachers and admins about the bullying before I moved."

"So - what does this have to do with losing to the queen?"

Jennet swallowed. "Thomas warned me about being unkind, but it's a hard habit to break. Anyway, when I started playing Feyland, there was this little hob-type creature. Raggedy clothes and hair that stuck out all crazy-like. She kept showing up asking for my help, but she wasn't acting like a quest-giver or anything."

Tam sat up a little straighter. "So you refused?"

Regret burned through her. "I wish I could go back and change that. It was only little things she needed. Sweeping out a cottage. Hanging some clothes. Fetching water from a well. It would have been easy to do, but I blew her off."

"Three times?"

"Three. Yes, the magic number. Because she was odd and poor and even in-game seemed worthless."

"Like the girl in real life." He shook his head. "Like me."

"No! Not like you. Tam, I--"

"You found a poor boy who would be easy to use, huh? A loser." His expression hardened into dislike - for her? For himself?

"It's not like that!" She flung the pillow on the floor. Leaning forward, she grabbed his hands. He didn't pull away. "No. Not a loser. I found the best gamer in the school, who turned out to be a pretty decent guy."

He met her gaze, the hard look in his eyes easing. The feel of his hands in hers tingled through her. After a long moment he cleared his throat and sat back, slipping free.

"So. Your fight with the queen."

She fished the pillow off the floor, but didn't hug it again. "It wasn't a normal kind of battle. Even then, I could tell things were getting odd in the game. Anyway, it started out with fighting. I was zapping the queen with my staff, and she was casting these dark spheres that floated around and protected her while doing damage to my character. But then things changed."

The memory was hard to catch hold of, a hazy wisp of half-dreaming. There had been stars and a gibbous moon, and a silver goblet full of dark, perfumed liquid that she had almost, almost sipped.

"Changed?" Tam prompted.

"We weren't battling any more. We were sitting together at a high table, and the queen asked me a riddle. I tried, but... I couldn't answer it."

"Do you remember what it was?"

She folded her hands into fists. The problem was, she had been trying for months to _forget_ the whole thing. "She told me the answer at the end - it was Life."

"Ok." He gave her a cautious look. "What happened next?"

Jennet closed her eyes, pulling the memory up from deep shadows. "The queen smiled at me, a terrible, beautiful smile. She beckoned to a figure in the shadows, and there was the pathetic hob-creature. _Show your true form, my handmaiden_ , the queen said, and the creature shuffled forward. She transformed, right in front of me, into a beautiful faerie maid." Jennet shivered. "She laughed at me. Laughed and said that my own arrogance and blindness had cost me dearly. If I had helped her, she would have helped me in turn to solve the queen's riddle. But I had not. And so I lost."

Lost. Lost. The word echoed in her mind. She kept her eyes closed, hoping Tam didn't hate her.

He was silent for a long time. When he finally spoke, his voice was sober. "You lost. And not just the game."

"No." She made herself open her eyes, but kept her gaze fixed on the plum-colored upholstery. "The queen said a part of me was now forfeit to Feyland. She inscribed some glowing runes in the air, and there was this ripping cold. Next thing I knew, I was out of the game. I was really sick - spent a week in the hospital. The doctors called it 'summer pneumonia,' as if they had any clue. And..." Her voice trembled, but she had to say this next part. "I think Thomas must have figured out what happened. I think he went in to get that part of me back, and ended up trapped forever. Not only did I lose, I... I was responsible for his death."

Grief hit her, hard and sudden, like a punch to the stomach. She curled up and gasped from it. Tears of regret, of blame and loss, etched down her cheeks.

"Hey, shh. Hey there." Tam was suddenly beside her, his arm around her shoulders, his hand stroking her hair.

He didn't tell her everything was all right - they both knew that wasn't true. He didn't tell her not to blame herself, or to stop crying. He just was there, accepting. Somehow that made it easier to bear.

Finally she pulled herself together and breathed away the tears. She sat up and pulled her sleeve across her face, trying not to think about how she must look - her eyes red from weeping, her hair stuck to her cheek with tears. Tam didn't seem to notice, or it didn't bother him. Either way she was grateful.

"Better?" His voice was gentler than she'd ever heard it.

She let herself lean against him and took a deep breath. He was solid and safe, and for a minute, she let herself believe that things were going to be all right.

"Yes," she said. "Thanks."

"Give me a couple days to sort all this out," he said, dropping his arm and scooting a couple inches away. "Feyland is intense, and what you just told me, well - somehow it all fits together. But I'm not ready to go charging in quite yet."

"Me either." She wished he would hug her again. "Anyway, it's okay. We can take a day or two off. There's still time."

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Tam slept late on Saturday. He was vaguely aware of voices - Mom and the Bug - before dreaming pulled him under again. When he finally woke, the house was quiet. Too quiet. No smell of coffee. No clacking of tools as the Bug messed with his hard-drive.

He kicked off his sleeping bag and scrambled to his feet. Mom had only been home a few days. Surely she hadn't run off already? Worry clenched through him, but he forced it back. Maybe she left a note.

He checked the table three times, but there was nothing. With fear crawling up his throat, he stepped into Mom's tiny bedroom. It was painted a soothing blue that did nothing to stop the worry hammering through him.

The inlaid box on the bookshelf, where Mom kept the money, was empty. God, she was gone again. But why did she take Peter? Or was his brother downstairs?

He pulled on his jeans and flew down the rickety staircase. The heavy metal door was locked. Finally the stubborn key turned and Tam heaved open the door. Empty, dark and quiet. No annoying little brother to be found.

Ok, breathe. Think. Mom loved Peter - she wouldn't do something dumb like sell him for medical parts or turn him over to a gang boss.

So where were they?

His pulse roared. No, wait. That was some kind of motorcycle, the sound bouncing around from the street. It stopped outside the building. Tam went outside and locked the door, then looked around the corner.

A cop, in body-armor and a faceless helm, sat astride a cycle. The motor throbbed in time with Tam's heartbeat. When the cop saw him, he cut the engine and glanced down at his hand-held.

"This 1329 Bittern Street?" he asked in a gravelly voice. He slanted a look up, at the shack they called home. The weak sunlight slid across his polished helm

"Yeah." Tam shoved his hands in his pockets. This had to do with Mom and the Bug, he just knew it.

"You Mister Tam Linn?"

"I am."

"Got ID?"

Tam lifted one shoulder. "Upstairs. What's going on? Uh, sir." It was like talking to the creatures in Feyland - best if you followed protocol.

"We got your family at the station. Your Ma's in lockup, and your kid brother wants to come home. Got any more kin here? Anybody else responsible for you?"

"No. What happened?" He barely remembered to add, "Sir."

"She tried a dump-and-run at the hospital. The orderlies caught her before she could get out. Most people do that with babies, though. Not bigger kids."

"My brother is... different." Oh Mom. What a stupid thing to try. He could figure out her reasons, though, and it made him feel queasy and heartsick.

"Well you gotta come up to the station and get the kid. Bring your ID."

"What about my mom?"

"We keep her a few days. Counseling, all that."

"But--"

"Station closes at three, and you don't want the kid there overnight. Trust me." Before Tam could say anything else, the cop fired up his cycle, patted his holster, and roared away.

Damn.

He trudged up the stairs. First thing to do was message Jennet and let her know their plans for playing over the weekend were dud. Then it would take a trip on three different buses to get to the station and retrieve the Bug. Would they let him see Mom? What would he even say to her?

Underneath the planning, part of his brain was kicking and screaming. How could she do this to him, to their family? How was he going to explain it to Peter? And how was he going to help Jennet defeat the queen when his own life was falling apart around him?

t dinner, Jennet sat quietly across from her dad and pushed her green beans around on her plate. Worry had curdled her appetite, and she didn't know what to think of the terse message Tam had sent. _:Life stuff, can't come. See you at school:_

He knew how close they were to endgame, how important it was. Whatever had happened, it must be serious.

"You're quiet tonight," her dad said. "Anything you want to talk about?"

Yes. No. But how could she possibly explain?

"I miss Thomas." The words were out before she realized what she was going to say.

Dad's face shuttered. "Me too, Jen. Me too."

Well, that brought the conversation to a screeching halt. After a minute she pushed her plate away. "So, how's work going?"

"Slowly." He shook his head. "Without Thomas... well, we're behind schedule. And the CEO is pushing us hard. She wants a release in time for the holidays."

If only Jennet could get Dad in-game. She knew Thomas would convince him to drop the project altogether. But there was no chance.

Dad took another bite of meat, and then rested his hands on the table. "Isn't your friend Tam coming over this weekend? George says he seems pleasant enough."

Great. Her dad was grilling the chauffeur about Tam. She thought back - had they let anything about Feyland slip while in the car? Just because George was as quiet as rocks didn't mean he wasn't listening to everything they said.

"Um, Tam had something come up."

She wished she knew what it was, or if there was any way she could help him. He seemed too used to dealing with stuff by himself. Did he even know how to ask for help? Or that it would be okay if he did?

Marie came in to clear the plates, and Dad nodded his thanks at her. Then he turned his attention back to Jennet.

"I'm sorry to hear your friend won't be coming over," he said. "I'm looking forward to meeting him. Soon."

Marie let out a sniff, as if to say _he's nothing but trash_ , but Jennet ignored her.

"He should be around sometime this week. Or maybe next weekend." He _had_ to be - next Sunday was All Hallow's Eve.

Halloween. The knowledge sat like a cold lump in the middle of her stomach. One week. They had one week left to defeat the queen.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

"Isn't Mom coming, too?" the Bug asked. He gripped Tam's hand as they walked down the wide grey steps of the police station.

"She has to stay a little while longer." Tam swallowed, dark worry sticking in his throat. "They need to talk to her and stuff."

It was bad news, the system noticing their family this way. They had made him talk to a family counselor before they had let him see Mom. Basically, if she didn't get herself together in the next couple days and promise to take her meds regularly, he and the Bug would be put in one of the state-run Homes. The counselor lady had made noises about eventually being placed with a nice family, if the system decided Mom was too unpredictable to take care of them. Yeah, right. Who wanted a sick little kid and his screwed-up big brother?

Not that it mattered, since there was no way he was letting the state suck them in. Which meant he and the Bug would have go to ground for a few days, until things shook out with Mom. The only place they could do that was deeper in the Exe. At least the cops wouldn't bother looking too hard for them.

The only problem was, how would Mom find them? Assuming they let her out. Assuming she even wanted to find them. That thought cut his chest like he'd swallowed broken glass.

Figure the rest of the day, maybe tomorrow, to find them a place to hide out, get it stocked with everything they'd need, and then disappear. Leave a note for Mom, reminding her of their old signal system. Red flag in the window - danger. Yellow - things were ok. Then he and Peter would erase themselves from the system like missing pixels, blank spaces where two boys used to be.

_You can't live like that_ , part of his mind insisted. _What about food? What about school? What about Jennet?_

One thing was clear. He sure as hell couldn't help defeat the Dark Queen if he were stuck in a Home. But they still had time. Hiding out with the Bug - that was only temporary. Until....

Well, until whatever. Right now, he couldn't see more than a day or two ahead. His chest ached when he thought about Mom, so he stopped.

He squeezed the Bug's hand. "How about an adventure?"

"What kind? I wanna go home." Peter was looking up at him with big, worried eyes. The kid was too smart for his own good.

"Yeah, home first. But then we're going to go exploring and, uh, build a fort."

"In the forest?" A tentative smile crossed his brother's face. "Like, in camping stories? Can we make a big fire?"

"No." There wasn't a forest around Crestview. The stand of woods in the park maybe, but it wasn't big enough for them to hide out in. Anyway, they had to stay close, in case Mom.... He shook his head. "We'll find a place in the Exe."

"But Mom said we should never go there by ourselves."

Tam stopped and bent down, so he was eye level with his brother. "Peter. We _live_ in the Exe. Not in the middle of it, sure, but I go to school by myself every day after putting you on the bus. I go through the Exe all the time, and it's fine."

Liar. He went along the edges, like where their place was, and even there it wasn't safe. But staying safe wasn't an option any more. Only surviving. He'd heard stories about the Homes, and there was no way he was letting them get hold of the Bug. Or him, for that matter.

"It's just for a little while," he said. "We can pretend we're camping in the woods. I'll even get us some marshmallows."

Sugar bribery. Good thing he had hidden some of Mom's cash stash. He and the Bug would get through this. They had to.

It took the rest of the weekend to find them a bolt hole that wasn't dangerously deep into the Exe, but far enough that the system would give up looking. Their hiding place was a low-slung building open on two sides, but there was a corner that was dry and out of the wind. Yeah, it was sketchy, and Tam knew it, but he couldn't find anything better. There was some rank, weird smell coming from further down the block, and at some point rodents had taken over the building, but they were long gone now.

The hardest thing wasn't getting their stuff there, or rigging up a couple of low-tech alarms - wires and cans filled with rocks - it was getting the Bug to keep his voice down. He was excited about their adventure.

"I want to show Mom our fort when she comes home," Peter said from his makeshift bedroll, his voice rising. "Do you think she would let us build a fire? Hey, Tam--"

"Sh. It's time you were asleep."

"But we're on holiday, you said so. I don't have to sleep because I'm not going to school tomorrow. Can we go someplace fun? What about the park with the fountain, or the--"

"Peter, shush. We'll talk about that tomorrow." Another marshmallow would shut the Bug up, but it would only be a temporary fix. The sugar would keep him up even later. Tam let out his breath in a low sigh. "I'll take you someplace fun, but only if you stop talking."

"Ok."

His brother lay still for a half-second. He pulled in a breath, like he was about to say something, then stopped - remembering just in time that he was supposed to be quiet. Then he started wiggling again. His feet swished back and forth under his blankets, moving like wings.

Tam snapped off the thin beam of his flashlight. It was better if they were in complete darkness, anyway. Nothing to give them away. He scooted down in his sleeping-bag, then slipped his hand under his pillow. The cool plas-handle of their longest kitchen knife was comforting against his fingers. Not the best weapon, but at least they weren't totally unarmed.

Would his sword materialize if he needed it, the way Jennet claimed her staff had? He damned sure hoped so. Even more, he hoped it wouldn't come to that. They would spend a couple of nights here and the system would let Mom go. They liked keeping families together, didn't they? She would come back and leave the signal that it was safe, and they would go home.

Sure. Because everything always got better in their lives.

Tam squeezed his eyes shut. No way was he giving in to that hot prickle behind his eyelids. He made his breathing soft, and listened to the Bug's feet moving quietly back and forth under the covers. Finally the motion got slower and slower, and Peter's breath deepened into sleep.

The Exe was quiet. Well, quiet as it ever got. Random yelling from somewhere, too far away to worry about. The low rumble of motors and machines, and behind that, the hum of the bigger, better town of Crestview, bypassing the Exe. Going about its business.

Up on the rich people's hill, Jennet was probably going to bed, thinking she'd see him at school tomorrow. But she wouldn't. He and his brother had to be invisible for the next couple of days. Tam didn't even want to turn his tablet on - everyone knew you could be tracked that way. Though at some point he'd have to message Jennet again, tell her not to worry. Too much. He could do that from the middle of the park, right before they left. Yeah, that would work.

He knew she'd worry. He could practically see the frown hovering on her face, pulling her brows together above her blue eyes. She'd tuck a strand of pale hair behind her ear and press her lips together. If he were there, he could touch the softness of her hair, coax her lips back into a smile.

For now she'd just have to wait, and he was sorry for it, but there was nothing else he could do.

A low, shivering noise woke him. Keeping his eyes shut, Tam slid his fingers around the hilt of the knife. He gripped it hard, his whole body taut with listening. Was somebody there? Had their hiding spot been discovered? Nothing had tripped the alarms.

The noise came again, and this time, Tam knew what it was. There was no mistaking that mournful call. It turned his bones cold and made his mouth dry up. The eldritch horn of the Wild Hunt. Hell. How could the Hunt be here, in the real world?

He lay absolutely still, trying not to breathe as the sound swept over the Exe - the high yipping of dogs, the pounding of hooves through the night sky, the wild skirl of bagpipes. The sound flowed through the air, filling it with shadows and things unseen. Images flowed, unbidden, into his brain.

A menacing, horned figure silhouetted against pale trees. The impudent grin of a sprite. A woman more beautiful than midnight stars, her eyes dark as sorrow.

Finally, the sounds faded. Tam exhaled, and it felt like the whole Exe breathed out with him. They were safe.

This time.

CHAPTER THIRTY

"Marny!" Jennet called as she caught sight of the big girl in the halls. "Do you know where--"

"No. I have no idea where Tam is this morning, if that's what you're asking."

Jennet's spirits sank. She had tried messaging him about a hundred times, but could never get through. "I just was hoping that you knew--"

"Look." Marny crossed her arms. "It's great that you and Tam are friends and everything. You probably know more about him by now than me, ok? So don't bug me. Anyway, probably half the Exe is sleeping late. It was a crazy night."

A chill crawled across Jennet's skin. "A crazy night? In what way?"

"In a freaky-noises-echoing-around-the-sky-like-a-nightmare way. I should be asleep right now, if I had any sense."

"Did it sound like... hounds baying and sort of screechy music? A low, deep horn? Like that?" Jennet's throat was tight.

"Yeah, like that." Marny narrowed her eyes. "What do you know about it?"

"It's complicated."

There, Marny's warning not to pry, right back at her. No way was Jennet going to try to explain the Wild Hunt, here in the middle of Crestview High's halls. Even if Marny believed her - and Jennet had a feeling she might - it was safer for her not to know.

"Marny," Jennet said, "if you hear that again..."

She shivered, she couldn't help it. The Hunt was loose in their world. And she and Tam were their prey. Please, let him be safe.

"What?" Marny asked.

"Just, stay inside. And, um, make a line of salt under your windows and doors." She wasn't sure that piece of lore about protection from the faeries was true, but every bit helped.

"Salt. Uh huh." Marny gave her a searching look, and then shook her head. "I'll see you around," she said as she walked away.

Jennet took a deep breath as she watched the girl turn the corner. Tam was fine, he had to be. Maybe a little late to school, but she would see him soon.

Soon.

But soon never came. In Ms. Lewis' World History class, Jennet couldn't stop glancing at Tam's empty seat. She looked over there so often that stupid Rod Dermont thought she was flirting with him. He wiggled his eyebrows and pursed his lips into a kiss, so Jennet stopped looking behind her.

All right. She had to find Tam, which meant going back into the Exe. The Hunt didn't ride during the day, did they?

The last bell echoed behind her as she hesitated on the steps. George would be here soon to pick her up. Could she get him to take her to the Exe? Or should she call him and tell him to pick her up later? The rule was she had to be home by five. At least Dad trusted her enough to do what she wanted after school.

Well, if the Dark Queen opened the gate to their world, it would hardly matter. They had four days. Which meant she had to go find Tam.

She had her tablet out, ready to let George know to come by for her later, when the screen lit up. Message from Tam!

Her legs suddenly soft as dough, Jennet sank down on the steps to read. It was terse, like all his messages, but at least now she knew he was alive.

_:Jennet, don't worry. Need a day or two. Don't come find me. Sorry. Tam:_

Relief blurred into anger. Need a day or two? A day or two? They didn't _have_ that kind of time. What did he think this was, anyway? Some delusional fantasy of hers? She jumped up and paced to the street. How could he take this so lightly? She could _die_. Thomas had said as much, and Tam didn't even care.

Ok, that was unfair. She tried to hold on to the anger, but it started tattering away. Behind its bright red curtain was a darker shape. Fear.

Whatever was keeping Tam, it had to be serious. Even more serious than defeating the Dark Queen. She had no idea what kind of trouble could be that bad. Didn't even want to imagine.

Tam powered off his messager and shoved it into his pocket. Good thing the regular part of Crestview had reliable signal. He'd kept his text short enough that it couldn't be tracked - he hoped. Even if it was safe to say more, he didn't know how he could explain to Jennet that his life had fallen apart.

He grabbed his brother's hand. Time to get moving.

"Hey, Bug. Let's go look at the fountain again."

It was on the far side of the park, right where they'd catch the bus back toward the Exe. No buses went into their neighborhood, of course, but they could get close, and both he and Peter were used to walking.

His brother smiled up at him, teeth ugly from the chocolate-coated ice cream he had just finished eating. "I like the fountain! Can I go in it?"

"No. That fence is there for a reason."

Not that six feet of wrought-iron would stop his little brother if he really wanted in. But they had to stay under the radar, which meant no climbing fences and playing in forbidden fountains.

They were watching the water shoot and spray when Tam heard the distant cry of sirens.

"Alright, time to go." He kept his voice even. Everything was fine. The cops could be going someplace else.

"But we just got here. Can't we stay a little longer? Please?" His brother looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Extra please?"

Tam tilted his head. The sirens were definitely coming closer. "Nope. We've been here all day, anyway. Come on. Race you to those trees."

Laughing, the Bug took off, with Tam close behind. He could feel the sirens wailing, prickling the back of his neck. When he reached the safety of the woods, he glanced over his shoulder.

The sirens abruptly cut out as two black and white grav cars pulled up to the fountain, lights strobing. Tam grabbed his brother's hand and ducked behind the closest tree. He was aware of every sensation; the rough bark at his back, the warm, sticky hand of his little brother clasped in his, the breath rasping in and out of his throat. The Bug stayed quiet for once, as if sensing trouble. Which he probably did. Growing up in the Exe, you had to have decent survival instincts.

Tam counted to a hundred, then back down. Nobody had come for them. Were the cops gone?

Slowly, he peered around the tree. Empty grass. The fountain, oddly cheerful under the late-afternoon sky. No cars. No cops. He blew out a breath.

The Bug tugged at his hand. "Is it safe?"

"I think so."

He surveyed the area again. The faint call of sirens moving away shivered through the air. It sounded like they were going to the other side of the park. Probably the cops weren't after him anyway, but with the luck he'd been having, he wasn't going to take any chances.

"Ready to go home?" he asked his little brother.

The Bug nodded. His eyes were wide, but not with fear, or excitement. Knowledge, maybe, and the good sense to not ask any questions. Had he heard the Wild Hunt last night? Tam could have sworn his brother slept through it, but now he wondered.

They stayed backed-up to the bushes until the bus arrived, then got on, no problem. It was a quiet ride to the outskirts of the Exe. The few other people who shared their ride didn't pay any attention to the two of them, and the driver was supremely uninterested. The Bug didn't make a ruckus of any kind, but as soon as the bus turned the corner out of sight, he started hopping on one foot.

"Ow, ow!"

"What?" Tam's patience was melting like ice-cream.

"I stubbed my toe getting off the bus."

"Can you walk? Because I'm not going to carry you."

His brother hopped around a little more, then slowly put his foot down on the cracked sidewalk.

"It feels better. Can we go home? Not to our fort, but really home?" His voice tipped up, and Tam felt the yearning in it. It mirrored his own.

"Not yet. But tell you what. We can walk past it - as long as we stay out of sight." It was too early to check for the sign that Mom was home and it was safe. But maybe....

"Do we have to go to jail with Mom for the rest of our lives?"

"Mom isn't going to be in jail much longer. She'll be coming home soon." He hoped with everything in him that it wasn't a lie. He put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Things are going to work out, Peter. Just a couple more days."

He couldn't promise that they were going to be fine. There was never any guarantee of that. Things were going to change though, one way or another, and he and his family were going to wash up on some shore. Whether it was a midnight faerie realm or the hard edges of the Exe remained to be seen.

They cut through the ragged alleys until Tam could see the ramshackle place they called home. See the empty window too. No point in getting closer.

"Tam? How will we know when Mom is home?"

"She'll hang a yellow shirt up in the window. If she hangs a red one, we'll know she's there but it's not safe." If she could understand the hints he'd left in his note. If she made it home at all.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

That night Tam's sleep was broken again by the low call of the Wild Hunt's horn, the baying of demon hounds. They seemed closer this time, and he hunkered down in his sleeping bag and tried to think invisible thoughts. Not here. Nobody here.

Cold light was leaking into the sky when he finally fell asleep.

The Bug woke him up early, asking where they were going to go that day. For a moment, Tam thought about dropping him off at school and spending the day sleeping. But no - they had to keep together and out of sight for another day or two. The Bug was way too conspicuous, and the system could easily get to him at school. All it would take was one call from a teacher and, poof - little brother whisked off.

He was _not_ going to let that happen.

So he pried his eyelids open and dug up a couple protein bars for breakfast, then took the Bug to the mall. Peter amused himself by looking in the windows of all the stores, and talking about everything he saw. Even though the money was running low, Tam bought them both ice-cream bars.

If - he swallowed hard - if Mom didn't get free of the system, he'd need to get a job. Not the errands he ran here and there, but something more serious. A steady job, that also gave him time to look after the Bug.

Sure. And money would just drip down on him from the trees, too.

At least there weren't any cops around at the mall. He didn't message Jennet, though he wished he could. Wished he could dive into Feyland with her and fight free of everything, the two of them emerging strong and victorious. Wished he could tell her how crappy his life was, how tired he was of being the glue in his family. Wished he could take her hand and touch the softness of her hair. He needed to feel something soft, in a life that was so full of hardness.

But the messager stayed at the bottom of his bag, silent and dark.

His sleep the next night was filled with restless dreams. The Dark Queen, so beautiful she made his breath freeze, stood before him.

_Tamlin_ , she whispered, in a voice like smoke and snowflakes. She reached out, and her hand was cool on his cheek, her fingertips tingling along his skin. _I am waiting for you._

His body yearned forward, but his feet were rooted fast. Frustration climbed up his throat. Why couldn't he go? He was ready, more than ready to obey her summons.

Laughter chimed about him, a shimmering silver light that coalesced into three faerie maidens, dancing. They pulled scarves made of cobwebs and moonlight behind them. Whenever one brushed against him he felt it, bright and aching. The touch made him shiver with fear, with longing.

The queen stood farther from him now, watching from the shadows, her eyes luminous with mystery. _I am waiting._

Tam wrenched forward, but the faeries were gone. Instead, the Black Knight was coming at him, his sword raised. With a shout, Tam lifted his hand, unsurprised to find his own sword there. The two blades met with a furious clang - and he was suddenly awake, heart racing, in the darkness of their makeshift shelter.

A different kind of noise jolted through him - a clatter of metal. The alarm he had cobbled together, a precarious balance of metal scraps across the door, had fallen. Beside him he felt the Bug stir, and he knew his brother was awake, too, and listening.

He groped under his pillow for the knife. Slowly, silently, he drew it out and shifted his grip on the handle. Breath barely stirring in his lungs, he listened. No footsteps. No light. No sound.

Wait. A skittering across the cracked cement floor. A faint rustle. And then laughter, impish and otherworldly. There was something familiar about that chiming sound.

Tam sat up. "Who's there?"

A pale spark lit in the center of the room, then grew into a ball of light, cupped in Puck's hand. The sprite sat cross-legged in mid-air, his clothes like tattered oak leaves. Tam heard the Bug draw in a quick breath full of wonder.

"Greetings, mortal boys," Puck said. He grinned, sharp and feral. "What fancies invade your sleep?"

"I think you know." Tam didn't loosen his grip on the knife. "How did you get here? I thought faeries couldn't cross over to our world."

"Three days before All Hallow's, the boundaries grow thin. You have been touched with elfin magic, Tam Linn, and so I come to you. I bring a warning, and an answer."

A warning. Like he needed the sprite to tell him they were in trouble. On the other hand, Puck _had_ helped them in the goblin caves.

"What is it?"

Puck stood and floated forward, coming to hover a foot in front of Tam's face. It was hard to tell for sure, but there was a blurring behind the sprite, as if he had wings moving ten times faster than a hummingbird's.

"The queen has marked Fair Jennet for her sacrifice," he said. "Yet in the darkest moment trust your heart, Tam Linn, and make the hero's choice."

Whatever that meant. The sprite was as oblique as ever. Tam blew his breath out in an exasperated gust. "Great. Thanks."

Quick as a blink, Puck zipped close to Tam's face and gave his nose a painful tweak.

"Ow! Hey." Tam brought his hand over his face. "That wasn't funny."

The sprite's chiming laughter was joined by the Bug, and Tam divided his glare between the two of them. He should have known his little brother would enjoy the faerie's tricks.

Puck floated slowly back, the ball of blue light glowing in his palm. "Farewell, mortal boys. Rest well, for the Hunt seeks elsewhere this night."

Were they after Jennet? Tam rose to his knees. He had to -

"Tam?" The Bug's voice held a plaintive note.

Right. His brother. He sat back down. Even if he could convince Puck to stay around, he didn't think the sprite would be a very good choice of babysitter.

"I'm here," he said. "Not going anywhere."

The sprite looked at him, with luminous, knowing eyes. "Heed the old ballads, Tam Linn. Your lady awaits."

"Wait. Which lady..." Tam began, but Puck was gone. Between one breath and the next, he had vanished. Only the afterglow of his light remained, printing blue sparks on the back of Tam's eyelids.

"What was that?" the Bug whispered. "Was it magic?"

"Yeah. It was magic. You're dreaming, in fact. Now go back to sleep."

"But if I'm dreaming, how can I go _back_ to sleep? I'm awake, Tam. Really I am."

Tam let out a low, quiet breath. "We'll talk about it in the morning, ok?" And maybe, if he were lucky, his little brother would believe that it had all been a dream.

Tam woke early. The morning air was cold, and he hunched down in his sleeping bag, hoping he could fall back asleep. His thoughts were whirling too much for that to happen, though.

Worry for Jennet circled, trading places with fear for Mom, and the looming shadow of the uncertain future. A future on the streets, looking after the Bug - a future where every night the Wild Hunt rampaged through the mortal world.

At least he could do something about that second worry. And he'd figure out a way to do it today. After school got out, he'd take the Bug over to Marny's. She owed him a couple favors - enough that he could get the rest of the afternoon free. He and Jennet had to get back into Feyland.

_I am waiting._ It was a cobweb whisper through his mind.

Did the queen have the power to send the Black Knight after him? Was that what his dream had been about? He shook his head. It didn't matter. Win or lose, he and Jennet would face the queen. Today.

They had better win. The consequences of losing were too dire. Chill air snagged in Tam's lungs. He would do whatever it took to keep Jennet from harm - even though the Dark Queen whispered in his dreams.

"Tam? Are you awake?" The Bug's voice was slow and sleepy.

"It's still too early, Peter. Close your eyes."

"Don't want to." His little brother pushed out of his nest of blankets and sat up.

His brown hair spiked out in funny tufts from his head, and Tam tried not to smile. Although - his amusement dimmed - they didn't have any running water to clean up with, and Tam had forgotten the hairbrush at their house. Pretty soon the two of them would look, and smell, like the dregs of the Exe. He was already starting to feel that way. Grime and hunger and tiredness had a way of gnawing at you, like a feral dog with a bone.

"Ok then." Tam rummaged around in the pack by his bed. He pulled out two more protein bars and handed one to his brother. "Breakfast."

"Ew! I'm tired of protein bars. Can't we have eggs instead?"

"Look around you. Do you see a stove? A fridge? Don't be an idiot." Impatience made him snap the words out.

The Bug was quiet. Then a sniffle escaped him. Ah, damn. Tam scooted over to his brother and pulled him into a rough hug.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he said. "I wish we could have eggs, too."

"I want to go home. How come we can't just go home?"

Tam sighed and forced himself to speak gently. Inside, his own eight-year-old self was kicking his heels and demanding the same thing.

"I told you yesterday," Tam said. "If we go home and they decide Mom's not well enough to get out of jail, then they take us and send us to a State Home. And that would be even worse than this."

"Wouldn't we get eggs there?"

"If we did, they would be grey and slimy. Trust me, Peter. Hang in there. We just have to play fort here a little bit longer." Please, let it be the truth.

The Bug's shoulder's drooped. Then he shot Tam a curious look. "Hey. What was that little guy, last night?"

Damn. He was hoping his brother had forgotten about Puck's visit. "What little guy? You must have been dreaming."

"I wasn't! Tam--"

"Tell you what." Tam gave the Bug's shoulders a final squeeze, then folded the empty protein bar wrappers and stuck them in his pocket. No reason to leave trash around that showed they'd been sleeping there. "Let's go by our house and see if Mom has left the signal yet."

He was sure she hadn't, but he'd rather deal with his brother's disappointment than his questions.

"Ok," the Bug said, scrambling out of his blankets.

They went quietly through the broken streets of the Exe. Fog hung in tatters, with no promise of burning off. A shambling figure blocked one alley, forcing them to make a quick detour, but nothing more dangerous appeared. Even the yellow-eyes down the street were silent.

Tam squished down the stupid hope that tried to spring up in his heart. Mom wouldn't be home. And even if she was, there was no guarantee it would be safe. No use wishing for a yellow shirt hung in the window.

"Tam!" The Bug tried to whisper, but his excitement was obvious. His hand tightened in Tam's, squeezing hard.

Tam blinked up at their window. Blinked again. His heart squeezed too, like the Bug's grip had traveled into his chest. There, in the window. A yellow shirt.

"Come on!" The Bug started pulling him across the street.

"Wait. What if it's not really Mom? What if someone else figured out my notes? What if--"

"Sheesh." The Bug dropped his hand and pelted up the stairs, with all the confidence of a kid whose world has been restored. He flung the door open and disappeared inside.

Tam followed. He stepped carefully over the rotten tread near the bottom of the stairs. Hope wrestled with fear, like two epic monsters equally matched, teeth and claws ripping into him. He hesitated at the threshold.

"Tam. Honey." His Mom's voice was warm and soft and smiling.

She knelt on the floor, her arms around the Bug, and she looked good. Unafraid and peaceful, the way she hadn't for a long time.

Tam gave the rest of the room a quick glance. No authorities lurking in the corners, no hard-faced counselors ready to take him and his brother away. Just the three of them. Their family. Tears, hot and heavy, reared up at the back of his nose. He sniffed to keep them from spilling over.

Maybe things were going to be okay.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

**T** wo days. Two days. Jennet couldn't get the words out of her head. Halloween was the day after tomorrow. Where was Tam? Was he all right? She hadn't heard from him in too long.

"Miss Carter. Pay attention please."

She jerked her gaze to the front of the classroom. Mr. Davis, the ever-grumpy math teacher, was pointing at a problem on the screen, clearly expecting her to solve it.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said. "I wasn't paying attention."

Admitting her mistakes made her squirm, but it was better than trying to fudge her way out of them. Feyland had taught her that much.

"I expect more than that, young lady." Mr. Davis scowled at her. Then he leaned forward, as though he were seeing her for the first time. "Go talk to the nurse at lunch. You're not looking well."

No kidding. Every morning for the last week, a paler and thinner Jennet had looked back at her from the mirror. Getting up was hard - she felt as though she hadn't slept at all, tiredness weighted her bones so heavily. And last night....

She shivered. Last night she had heard The Hunt, close and insistent. The cry of hounds and horns had woken her, and she had spent the rest of the night curled under her blankets, clutching her old teddy-bear.

The teacher was obviously waiting for a reply, so Jennet nodded. "Yes, Mr. Davis, I'll do that."

Not that the school nurse could do anything.

She needed Tam. Needed to get back in-game. Needed to face the Dark Queen and defeat her, once and for all. If only she didn't feel so weary.

Getting from one class to the next left her out of breath. By the end of the school day, she felt bruised and exhausted. At least she was so slow the hallways had cleared by the time she made her way to the doors.

It was grey outside, and cold. She pulled her coat closer and took small sips of the air. If she breathed too deeply, she'd get a coughing fit.

The grav-car was waiting beside the curb. As soon as George saw her, he jumped out of the car and opened the side door for her. Wow. She must look even worse than she'd thought.

"Miss Carter?" His words burbled, as though he were speaking underwater.

The sidewalk stretched and wavered in front of her, and she suddenly had no balance. Was she flying? Was she floating?

Then strong hands caught her, clasping her upper arms and keeping her from falling. She stumbled forward, and landed against Tam's chest. Tam. Thank the universe.

She closed her eyes, and felt his arms slip around her. Warm. Safe. He smelled of fresh soap and, faintly, the dust of the Exe.

"Tam," she mumbled. "I was so worried. What were you--"

"Sh. I'll tell you later. Come on, let's get you in the car." His voice held a tender note she'd never heard before.

She pried her eyelids open, and saw Tam exchange a look with George - a look of concern and mutual understanding, as though she were highly breakable. She would have objected, but it was too hard to think of the right words.

Tam lifted her onto the seat, and she saw George nod at him.

"Tam's coming with us." It came out a whisper, but she needed to be sure they understood.

"Of course, Miss," George said.

"I'm right here." Tam took her hand. "No worries."

Fear hammered through Tam's chest as he studied Jennet. Dark shadows smudged under her closed eyes, her skin was translucent, and she weighed barely more than air. No wonder the barriers between the worlds were growing thin. The Dark Queen was obviously sucking out Jennet's energy, and fast.

They had to defeat the queen. Today.

They should have done it earlier, that much was clear. It was his fault that Jennet was in such rough shape - but there was no time for regrets now. Only action. And he had done what he had to, made the only choices he could.

The grav-car slid to a stop in front of Jennet's house, and the driver turned back to look at Tam.

"Perhaps we should summon an ambulance." George's voice was concerned. "Just in case."

Tam swallowed hard. They had to get in-game as fast as possible - but George didn't know what the hell was going on, or how that would help. All he saw was Jennet, looking like she was thinking of dying.

"Ok," he said. "But it's not an emergency." Yet.

"Then I will call a non-emergency team in." There was a touch of wry humor in the driver's voice, as if joking about it would keep the fear at bay.

"You do that. I'll take her upstairs." Tam brushed the back of his hand over Jennet's cheek. She felt as soft as the sky. "Hey," he whispered, "Wake up."

Her eyes fluttered open, pale blue, and she took a deep breath. "Are we there?"

"Almost." He knew what she was asking. Not if they were at her house, but if they were in Feyland. "You up to walking?"

Behind her eyes, he saw determination. Saw her summon her strength. "Yes. Just..."

He helped her, one hand under her elbow, one at her back. Balanced her as she got out of the car, supported her while she stood on the walk. He tried not to act like he was half-carrying her. It must have worked, because George gave them both a relieved look.

"I'm still making that call," he said.

"Good." Because there was always a chance that he and Jennet would lose. Not that Tam would give that thought any room in his brain.

Gently, he turned her toward the house. As soon as the door closed behind them, she teetered. He swept her up in his arms. Good thing she didn't weigh much.

"Hey," she whispered.

"Hold still," he said quietly. "It's just the quickest way to get you to the game room."

He settled her into the sim chair, locked the door, hit the jammer button, and then plugged in himself. Game. On.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

They stood in a pale grove, the usual ring of mushrooms surrounding them. Tam peered at Jennet, but in the dim light it was impossible to tell if her character looked any different.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

She took a hesitant step, then leaped over the ring. Whirling, she grinned at him. "Good! Fabulous, in fact."

"Glad to hear it. Do you think we're close to the Dark Court?"

He stepped over the luminous mushrooms and glanced about. The sky above them was dusted with stars and the trees gave off a faint glow.

"Yes, we are," she said. "Do you hear that?"

He tilted his head. Music twisted through the air, pulling at his senses. Pipes and fiddle and the steady beat of a drum. "Yeah."

"Come on." Staff in one hand she stepped forward, down the shadowy path.

Tam hurried after her and took her arm, halting her. "Me first."

"Really, Tam, I'm--"

"This is my job. Besides, you know in a fight that the tank goes first and the spell-caster stays back. We have to do this right, Jennet."

"Ok. But don't go too slowly."

"I won't - but I'm not rushing into danger either, alright?" Without waiting for a response, he strode past her.

The shadows under the trees shivered as they passed, but nothing leaped out at them. The music was stronger now, the trees taller and more widely spaced. A silvery light gilded the branches, and Tam glanced up to see a crescent moon floating in the blackness.

There were lights visible before them now, too, floating glimmers that looked like fireflies. The path widened, and Tam curled his fingers around his sword hilt. This was it. The Dark Court of the faeries.

He and Jennet stepped forward, into a clearing. An odd purplish bonfire burned in the center, and figures moved around it, their silhouettes inhumanly graceful or oddly grotesque.

Just past the fire, directly across from where they stood, was a throne made of vines and shadows. On it sat the Dark Queen. She smiled at him.

His breath left his lungs, and forgot to return. Who needed breath when _she_ was there? Half-whispered secrets, the taste of moonlight, a brush of midnight across his senses. Bright stars sparkled behind his eyes.

"Tam!" Jennet hissed.

Abruptly, his lungs decided to work again. He sucked in a breath and forced himself to look away. His gaze landed on the Black Knight, standing utterly still in the darkness behind the queen. Now _that_ was an enemy he could fight.

Beside the knight were feasting tables covered with delicacies, and a group of musicians playing sweet music. Fabulously beautiful women with gossamer wings danced, small twiggy creatures swooped past, and laughter chimed like bells in the soft, dark air.

Then, sudden as a slammed door, everything stopped. The music cut off, the dancers halted, the laughter ceased. Tam felt every creature in the clearing turning to look at them, and fear skittered across the back of his neck.

"Fair Jennet. And Bold Tamlin," the queen said, her voice full of smoke and promises. "Have you come to issue a challenge?"

"We have." He took a step forward. "We are here to regain what was lost."

"Is it so?" The queen's voice took on an edge. "What I have, I won fairly. Now you would take it from me?"

"Not take," Jennet said, "Win. I need it back."

"Ah," the queen said. "Need."

The way she spoke that single word made Tam's whole body tighten. Need. It echoed through him.

"Yes." Jennet sounded scared, but defiant. It was her life they were talking about, after all. "I demand another chance."

"So much trouble," the queen said, "for something so simple. Are you quite certain, Fair Jennet? Are you willing to place your champion in such danger?"

"It's not--"

"Her champion chooses this freely," Tam said. He would not make this Jennet's fault, no matter what the queen said.

"Ah. So bold." The queen breathed the words. "Very well."

She extended one hand, palm up, and a glowing sphere appeared there, cupped in her hand. Jennet gasped, and the queen laughed her chiming laugh.

"I see you recognize yourself, Fair Jennet." The queen turned the globe back and forth between her slender fingers. Bright orange and pink flames were trapped inside the sphere, dancing desperately, seeking freedom. "But if you may have a champion, then so may I."

There was a flash of silver, like a lightning bolt had struck the clearing, followed by bone-shaking thunder. The purple bonfire snuffed out. Tam turned, sword drawn, to find that he and Jennet now stood on a raised, circular platform. The fey-folk gathered around the edges, their expressions avid.

The queen and the Black Knight faced them. Tam's blood surged, hot and scared. With a sharp smile, the queen lifted her hand.

"Begin!" she cried.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Something was wrong. Jennet felt it in the stares of the watching creatures, in the way her soul flickered within its imprisoning sphere. But most of all, she felt it when she looked at Tam.

He watched the queen with a determined expression, but underneath that was a yearning that scared her. They couldn't win if Jennet's champion was only halfway on her side. Okay, yes, the Dark Queen was gorgeous and magical, but she was the enemy!

Even as fear washed through her, the Dark Queen was casting a spell, the Black Knight drawing his sword. It was too late to do anything but fight. She only hoped, to the depths of her trapped soul, that Tam wouldn't fail her.

A wave of shadows pushed forward from where the queen stood. Jennet raised her staff and sent a bolt of light into it, and another, another. The shadows danced back, temporarily at bay.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Tam and the Black Knight raise their swords and clash together. Tam twisted and jabbed, his armor contrasting brightly with the flat black of his opponent.

"Ow!" A sharp sting lanced her ankle, followed by numbing cold.

Her moment's inattention had brought the shadows creeping back, to twine, frigid, about her feet. The Dark Queen laughed, the sound like velvet with pins sticking out of it.

Pointing her staff downward, Jennet let out another blast of energy. With a hiss, the shadows receded again. Enough of this. She leveled her staff at the queen and summoned all her fear and anger. Whoosh! A sheet of blue fire sped toward the queen. The queen's pale face glowed and her hair shimmered with sparks. She threw up her hands and shouted a command.

Jennet's attack slammed to a halt. Then the backlash hit, knocking her to her knees. Blue fire streamed past, dissipating into the night. The watching fey-folk cheered their queen, in syllables strange and strident.

Slowly, Jennet got to her feet. Her legs trembled beneath her and it was hard to catch her breath. That hadn't gone well. She sent a glance at Tam, still trading blows with the Black Knight. His shield arm sagged and he wasn't moving as fluidly as before. As she watched, the knight landed a blow to Tam's shoulder that made her wince and sent him stumbling back.

The queen raised her hands again, and Jennet jerked her attention back to her own fight.

This time, skeins of darkness flew from the queen's fingers, as though she were throwing black threads into the air. Jennet tried to knock them away, but they wrapped around her staff, then flowed to her hand and began twining up her arm. Sweet music and poignant regret filled her mind. She was weary. Better to lay down her staff and rest.

"You are too weak, mortals," the queen said, her voice lilting with pleasure.

"Jennet!" Suddenly Tam was there. His bright blade sliced through the strands clinging to her staff.

She blinked as the Dark Queen's magic slid away. Then, over Tam's shoulder, she saw the Black Knight rushing forward, sword raised for a killing blow.

"Look out!" Jennet lifted her staff and sent a crackling bolt of blue-white fire at the knight.

It stopped him long enough for Tam to duck away and pull her with him. Together, they scrambled partway around the circle. When they had a little distance from their foes, they halted.

"Are you ok?" Tam asked. He sounded out of breath.

"Yes. You?" Could he hear the uncertainty in her voice?

He shrugged, keeping his face turned toward their enemy. "We're not losing."

"We're not winning either. Tam - I think we should switch opponents."

He looked at her then, a flash of stubbornness in his green eyes. "No way."

"Yes way. As long as the queen holds my soul, I'm weaker than she is, don't you see? You need to be the one to face her."

"I don't--"

"We have to try." She put all her hope, all her trust, into the next word. "Please."

He frowned at her, but she could see him hesitate. From the corner of her eye, she caught movement.

"Ha!" Whirling, she shot another bolt at the approaching knight, pushing him back a few paces. "Look Tam, I can handle him. Now go. Go."

Tam shook his head. Then, giving her a look she couldn't decipher, he turned and sprinted past the knight, his sword leveled at the Dark Queen.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Jennet didn't know what she was asking - but she was right about one thing. They sure weren't winning. Without giving himself time to think, Tam charged toward the Dark Queen.

Maybe if he were fast enough he wouldn't get caught by her ethereal beauty, or fall into the starry pools of her eyes. He had to stay strong, be a champion. He was here to save Jennet.

Holding that thought like a weapon, he kept his sword pointed straight at the queen and kept going. Her lovely face stilled, her eyes widened, and Tam felt his heart rip. It was too late to turn aside. He waited in horror for his blade to pierce her beauty, for a shocked cry of pain to pass those perfect lips.

It didn't happen.

One moment, the queen was before him, the next, his sword tip was jammed between the vines that made up her throne. He yanked at it, finally wresting it free. Smoky laughter sounded behind him. A touch, light as a whisper, on the back of his neck. He whirled, to find the queen standing there, unharmed.

"A bold champion," she said. "I would give much to claim loyalty such as yours."

Her words sparked pleasure through him. But he couldn't give in. Squinting his eyes mostly closed, he swung at the queen again. This time, his blade passed through her as if she were made of fog. Her laugh chimed through the air.

"It is not so simple is it, brave knight? But look, see how your lady fares." She gestured to the other side of the circle.

Jennet was illuminated by blue fire. She had etched a line of it in the ground between her and the Black Knight. He paced before it, unable to cross, while she sent flickering lightning bolts that burned and sizzled against his armor.

"You see?" the queen said, her voice a twilight caress. "They are well-matched. Just as you and I are, Tamlin."

"No," he managed to say, but somehow he was looking into the queen's eyes.

They were fathomless, full of secrets he hadn't even known existed. The scent of smoke and roses twisted around him, and his heart tightened. Dreams and longing pressed against his skin, against his soul.

The Dark Queen leaned forward. Her lips parted with promise, and for one fatal second he lowered his sword.

"Good," she whispered, sending her breath into his mouth.

Then Jennet screamed.

Tam wrenched himself away from the queen. "Jennet!"

She was on her knees, the blue fire gone, her staff on the ground beside her, broken. Despair shone in her eyes. The Black Knight stood over her. Slowly, he lifted his sword.

"You have lost," the queen said. She held up her right hand, showing Tam the sphere that held Jennet's trapped soul. "Now I take what is rightfully mine."

No! Defeat was bitter in his mouth, churned in his stomach. His fault. He had let the queen distract him, and she had done something to turn the battle - had used Jennet's energy against her. But it wasn't over yet.

"Wait," he said. "I'll offer you a bargain."

"Yes?" The queen tilted her head and watched him, her expression knowing.

He felt as though his mind were moving at the speed of light. There had to be a solution here, a way to save Jennet. He couldn't let her die.

"You've taken Jennet's energy," he said. "Practically drained her. There can't be much left."

The queen held the flickering sphere up and studied it a moment. The flames glinted in her eyes. "There is enough for my purposes."

"But you could have more. You could have mine."

"Tam, no!" Across the circle from him, Jennet gave him a wide-eyed look. "I'm the one who lost. You can't do this." Her voice hitched on a sob.

The queen smiled, as piercing as a shard of crystal. "You offer yourself instead? Bold, Tamlin."

"Yes. Take me, and let Jennet go." His mouth was dry. Still looking at Jennet, he scraped the words out. "Jen. Take care of my mom and brother. Tell them I love them. And I'm sorry."

Tears glistened on Jennet's face. "No. No. Tam, you can't--"

"I accept your bargain." The queen opened her hand, and the flames of Jennet's soul flew free, streaming back to her. "Now, brave knight, you are mine."

Tams' senses whirled as the Dark Queen leaned forward. She placed her hands on his cheeks, her touch like cool starlight. He could see nothing but her terrible, lovely face. Hear nothing but the high skirling of pipes. Taste nothing but ashes.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

"No!" Jennet ripped the sim helmet off and lunged over to the other chair.

Tam lay there, still and pale. She put a hand to his cheek. His skin felt clammy, and he was barely breathing. Panic roared through her like fire, red flames nearly choking her, blinding her.

"Help!" she cried, running to the door and throwing it open. "HANA - Call an ambulance. Quick!"

_"A medical team has just arrived."_ The cool mechanical tones sounded through the room. _"They will be with you immediately."_

Already? Jennet blinked. Before she could sort it out, two women in white medical gear rushed into the room.

"Miss Carter?" The taller one took her arm. "Let's get you on a stretcher and down to the ambulance. We can--"

"What?" Jennet yanked her arm free. "It's not me, it's Tam. Over here. Help him!" She hurried to the sim chair where Tam was sprawled, unmoving.

The med techs exchanged a confused look, and then the first one joined Jennet. She took one look at Tam and sucked in her breath.

"Willis," she said, "we need the full team up here. Stat!"

The second woman pulled out her cell, but HANA spoke first. _"I have already alerted the crew."_

"Good." The tech gave Jennet a sharp look. "Move away, please. We need to get him on the floor and start CPR. Willis!"

Jennet edged back as the other med tech hurried up. A minute later there was a flurry of white-uniformed activity in the room. She couldn't even see Tam any more, just hear some equipment beeping and the techs throwing around terms she didn't understand. At least Tam was still breathing. He had to be.

"Miss? Are you all right?" George set a hand on her shoulder. She hadn't seen him arrive, but she was glad he was there.

The rough sympathy in his voice was too much. Tears burst out of her, and she wrapped her arms around her stomach, trying to keep from falling completely apart.

She had failed. Failed and failed and now Tam.... Oh god, what was going to happen? What was she going to do?

George patted her back. "I've called your father. He's on his way, and so is a heli from the hospital. We'll get Mr. Linn the best possible care." He gave her a curious look. "But you're feeling well, yourself?"

Jennet took a deep, ragged breath. "Yes. I'm okay."

She was surprised to find it was true. Tam had succeeded in that. Her soul was restored, while he....

The tears threatened to swamp her again. She had to hold it together and tell Dad what was going on. He would know what to do - he'd helped build the game, after all.

She wanted to go over and hold Tam's hand, brush the hair out of his eyes, but the techs were busy putting him on a stretcher. They carried him out the door. Jennet followed, feeling useless.

The daylight outside came as a shock. The way she felt, she expected it to be night. Expected the whole world to be dark. It wasn't right that the sun was shining while Tam could be.... She couldn't even think the word.

Biting her lip, hard, she slipped forward until she could see him lying on the stretcher. There was an oxygen mask over his face, tubes hooked into his arms. His body was there. But his soul, his _self_ , was not.

Was he sitting beside the Dark Queen in her court? Was Thomas offering advice and solace? Had Tam already forgotten about his life in the mortal world?

A sob choked her. Oh, Tam. It was all her fault.

A whooshing sound made her look up, to see that the med evac was starting to descend. Luckily the streets of the View were wide. Jennet edged over to the tall woman, who seemed to be in charge.

"Excuse me," she said.

"Yes?" The tech looked at her with impatient sympathy.

"Can I go with him? In the evac?"

"Are you an immediate family member?"

"Um." For a wild moment she wanted to claim she was. But they'd find out it was a lie soon enough. "No. I'm not."

The tech shook her head. "Sorry." She glanced around. " _Are_ there any family members here?"

"No."

"You're a friend?" When Jennet nodded, the tech thrust a tablet at her. "Someone has to fill this out. If you don't know all the answers, do the best you can."

Of course - they needed to know who they were taking away. Pressing her lips together hard, Jennet filled out what she knew about Tam. There were a lot of blank spaces when she was finished. She didn't even know how to contact his mom, or what her first name was, or their address. But she knew how to get there.

Would George take her into the Exe? She wished Dad were home. There were too many things falling on her, all at once. She could barely stand up under the weight.

"Here." She handed the tablet back to the tech.

The woman hardly looked at it. "We're taking him to Central Hospital."

"Central? But that's not nearby."

"He needs more than the local facilities can provide." She lifted her head and called out, "Willis? We ready to go?"

The other tech waved an affirmative.

"But..." Jennet couldn't help the shaking in her voice, couldn't help the fear that grabbed her by the back of the neck and wouldn't let go.

"He'll be okay. We've got him on life support now." The tech gave her a brusque pat on the arm, and then clambered into the evac.

Moments later the machine shot straight up. Jennet squinted until she couldn't see it against the clouds any longer. Still she kept her face tilted to the sky, to keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks.

"Miss Jennet, please come into the house." It was George, his voice soft as he took her arm. "Your father should be here soon. We can wait for him inside."

She moved numbly as he guided her back into the house and settled her in the downstairs living room. Marie was waiting, with a blanket and cup of hot tea. Not that anything could make Jennet feel warm. Still, she took a sip. It gave her something to do with her hands, her body, while her mind bashed against what had just happened like some kind of frantic animal inside a cage.

"George," she finally said. "We need to let Tam's family know what's happened. Would you take me--"

"No, miss."

"But, you don't know where--"

"You need to remain here until your father arrives." George got to his feet. "And of course I know where to go. I have driven Mr. Linn home, if you recall."

"Oh. Right." She had forgotten.

"I'll bring his family to Central Hospital. To be clear, Miss Carter, do you know how many people I will be fetching?"

"Just his mom and little brother. I'm pretty sure." That little apartment over the garage couldn't hold more than the three of them, could it? Tam had never mentioned anyone else.

"Very good." The driver paused for a moment and set his hand on her shoulder. "Tell your father everything that has happened. Everything."

She glanced up, startled. How much did George know? "I will."

"Good. Lars can drive you and your father to the hospital when you are ready. I will put myself at the Linn family's disposal. I am certain your father would instruct me to do so."

"Yes."

George was right about that. Something terrible had happened to Tam here, at their house. Dad would take full responsibility. That was one thing she could always trust about her dad. He was as dependable as granite.

No matter how mad he got when he found out what had happened, he would take care of Tam's family. The fear holding her neck picked her up and gave her a little shake, then set her back down.

George gave Marie a long look. "Take care of her."

"Of course." The housekeeper sniffed, as if she didn't need the chauffeur telling her how to do her job.

It was quiet after George left, a heavy silence that muffled everything. Jennet felt as if she was lost in the middle of a blizzard. Everything was white and cold, and she had no sense of direction.

Then the front door slammed open and Dad rushed inside. He didn't bother taking off his coat, but went right to Jennet and took her hands. His eyes were worried.

"I got an emergency notification from HANA," he said, "and a confusing call from George. Something about your friend, Tam, and an ambulance. But you're all right?"

She nodded, and his expression eased.

"Good. Jennet - what happened?"

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

The question hung in the cold air. Jennet blinked, trying to find the words.

"Jen?" Her dad squeezed her hands.

"I...Tam..." She swallowed the lump in her throat, then tried again. "We were simming in Feyland and...Oh Dad, I'm so sorry."

"In Feyland? You know that's off limits!" He took a breath, visibly trying to calm himself. "All right, you were gaming, and then?"

"Tam made a bargain with the Dark Queen - she's the last boss. And after the fight, he was just lying there unconscious in the sim chair. Dad, stuff that happens in-game affects real life. It sounds crazy, but it's true. We have to go back in, together, and save Tam!"

"No."

"But Dad, he could be dying!"

"Jennet, listen to me. Playing a computer game is not going to save your friend. And nobody is going to be using the Full-D system right now. It's too dangerous." He rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking suddenly weary. "I never told you exactly how Thomas died."

A shiver ran through her. "You said he had a stroke - a blood clot to his brain."

"That's what the doctors thought. But I don't mean the exact diagnosis. When they found his body, he was hooked in to the Full-D system. He died while he was simming. And now your friend Tam... there's something terribly wrong with the hardware. The neural interface of the helmet, something."

"It's not the hardware, Dad. It's the _game_. Feyland is connected to another world, and I have to--"

"Jennet." He put his arm around her shoulders. "I know you're upset. But there's nothing we can do except trust the doctors to take care of Tam."

"But I've simmed a lot on the Full-D, and I haven't--"

"You were playing right before you got sick this summer, weren't you?" He gave her a penetrating look.

"I... well, yes, but--"

"And it landed you in the hospital for a week. So, no. No more playing. Those systems need to be examined, dismantled, and rebuilt from the bottom up."

Oh no. A sick shakiness trembled through her. How could she go back in-game and fight to free Tam if the systems were down?

"There's one more thing." Dad cleared his throat. "About Thomas. He had recently found out he had invasive cancer. He was dying."

Shock pierced the cold surrounding her. "But - what about treatment? Chemo and radiation and all that?"

"By the time they discovered the cancer, it was too late. He chose to not even try. In a sense it was merciful, the way he died. It was fast, and likely painless."

Thomas had cancer? Terminal cancer? Had he made a deliberate choice to leave his body behind, and enter the Realm of Faerie? He hadn't been able to save her, but it seemed he had some influence over the Dark Queen. Maybe without him there, Jennet wouldn't have ever come home from the hospital that summer.

But Tam's choice was different. He had a family, a life, a body to come back to. She couldn't let him give all that up - couldn't live with the guilt of knowing it had been because of her.

"It's all right, Jen." Dad squeezed her shoulders. "I need to get to the hospital, meet Tam's family, and see what the prognosis is. Whatever happens, I bear the responsibility."

"It's not your fault," she said, her voice nearly breaking. It was hers. Hers. "Can I come, too?"

"Are you sure you're up to it?"

"Yes. I have to know."

Every beat of her heart was fear and guilt and worry, carrying his name. Tam. Tam. Tam.

Tam held a heavy silver goblet to his lips. The scent of wine and spices tingled in his nose, but he didn't drink. For some reason, he wasn't supposed to. A memory flashed deep in his mind, like a silver-sided fish. He chased after it, but it was gone, submerged again in shadows.

Around him, the clearing was filled with glowing lights and high, chiming voices. The faeries came and went, swirling about their queen. Music floated through the air. He set the goblet down on the leafy table beside him and looked for the musicians.

There, at the edge of the clearing. A tall, twiggy figure playing the flute. Next to it, a squat, dark troll beating a hand-drum with gnarled fingers, and in the center, a man with a guitar. Tam squinted. There was something familiar about the bard.

As if sensing his regard, the man's fingers stilled. He nodded to his companions, and then strode over to Tam.

"Well met, brave knight," the musician said. "And how do you find our fair land?" There was something sad in the question, a weight that Tam didn't understand.

"How should I find it?" He had a feeling he hadn't been here that long, but he couldn't remember where he had come from.

The bard turned wise, weary eyes on him. "You should remember that beauty and treachery exist in equal measure here. It is wise of you to take no food, nor drink." He nodded to Tam's untouched goblet.

Tam's brain felt strange and sludgy. He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the glittery edged laughter of the Dark Queen. One moment the air beside him was empty, the next she was there, luminous as the moon in a midnight sky.

"How now, Bard Thomas," she said. "What strange tales do you tell our guest?"

The musician gave a short bow. "My lady, I do but discourse on the wonders of the realm."

The queen smiled at him, but there was a sharpness to it. Tam shifted uncomfortably. He wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that look.

"Enough talk," the queen said. "Play on, bard. We have a taste for your music this eve."

"As my lady commands." Bard Thomas inclined his head. "Fare well, young knight. I shall play you a ballad ere our time here is done." There was warning in his look, and a message that Tam couldn't decipher.

The queen waved her delicate hand in dismissal, then turned to Tam. "Are you well, bold Tamlin?"

"Yes." He couldn't imagine saying anything but _yes_ to the queen.

"Good." She brought one hand to his face and set her fingers lightly against his cheek. A rush of heat and starlight went right through Tam. He barely heard her next words. "Tomorrow you perform a great feat for us, brave knight. Tomorrow we open the Gate."

Her eyes were full of magic and mystery. Tam fell into her gaze, and didn't bother looking back.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

The hospital room was dim and smelled of disinfectant, but Jennet barely noticed. She rushed to the side of the bed where Tam lay, and took one of his limp hands in hers.

Her dad stayed by the door, talking to the nurse who had shown them to Tam's room. Without taking her eyes from the still figure on the bed, Jennet listened.

"What's the prognosis?" her dad asked.

"We can't say at this point," the nurse answered. "He's in a coma now, and seems stable. If there's no change in the night, we'll run some tests tomorrow."

"The doctor mentioned possible brain trauma?" Her dad's voice was strained.

"Sir, we really don't know anything yet. Our specialists will be in first thing to take a look at him."

Jennet squeezed Tam's fingers. It was horrible, the way they were talking about him. Like he wasn't even a person any more. Oh Tam. For the hundredth time, hot tears rose in her eyes. It didn't seem like she was ever going to run out of them. Her body could shrivel up and desiccate, and she'd still be crying for Tam.

"Did his family arrive?" her dad asked.

"Yes, Mrs. Linn and her younger son are here. They went to the food court, I believe, but should be back soon. If you'll excuse me, I need to get back to the station."

"Of course. Go ahead. We'll just..." Dad cleared his throat. "We'll wait here."

Jennet listened to the nurse's shoes squeak down the hall. Then there was only the quiet beeping of the machines Tam was hooked up to, the hum of technology. Despair sloshed through her. The hospital could run a million tests, and never find out what was wrong with Tam. Did they have a machine that could tell when somebody's soul had been sucked into the Realm of Faerie? She didn't think so.

She had to go back, confront the Dark Queen and get Tam free - before Dad had the system taken apart. Now that she had her mortal essence back, she felt so much stronger. But would she be strong enough?

Voices sounded from outside the door. Jennet looked up as two people walked into the room - a solemn-looking boy and the frail woman who had opened the door the time she had gone to Tam's. They halted when they saw Jennet and her dad.

"Mrs. Linn?" Her dad had his hand out. "I'm Steve Carter, and this is my daughter Jennet. Your son was at our house today when the, er, accident occurred."

Tam's mom ignored the outstretched hand. "What did you do to my boy?" Her voice was low and full of pain. She turned and fixed Jennet with a hollow expression. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing." It came out a whisper.

How could she possibly explain to this fragile woman with dark-circled eyes that her son had sacrificed himself inside a computer game?

"Now, Mrs. Linn," her dad said. "I've arranged for you to stay in a hotel nearby, and all your meals until... That is, the hospital will do everything they can to determine--"

"I just want him back," Tam's mom said.

_Me, too._

The little boy came to stand beside Jennet. He peered at the bed, then turned to look at her. Green eyes regarded her, so much like Tam's that her heart squeezed tight with pain.

"I'm Peter," he said. "But you can call me Bug if you want."

"Hi. I'm Jennet."

"I know." He looked at the still figure in front of them. "I think he's still in there."

"So do I."

Peter leaned forward. "Hey Tam," he said loudly into one ear. "Wake up. Mom will make you some eggs if you do. And your computer is almost fixed." He turned back to Jennet. "I broke his sim-system," he said. "Not on purpose. I was fixing it. But it didn't fix right. Tam says you have a really sparked system."

"Yes."

She didn't want to talk about this. Behind her, Jennet could hear Dad speaking to Tam's mom. His voice was low and reassuring, and she wished she could take some comfort in it. Knowing more than your parents was a terrible thing.

After a fidgeting moment, Tam's little brother spoke again. "So, do you know Puck?"

"What?" Shock ripped through her like lightning. She glanced over her shoulder, but the adults weren't paying attention. "What do you know about Puck? And keep your voice down."

Peter's eyes widened, but his reply was soft. "One of those scary nights, when we were in the fort, I woke up and it was still dark out, and Tam was talking to this little guy." He screwed his face up. "Puck. He was just floating there in the air. He looked like a Pokemon who got old."

"What did Puck say? Do you remember?" Jennet leaned forward. Her body felt like it wanted to take off, explode into action and run, run.

"Mhm." Peter nodded. He didn't say anything more.

Impatience flared, making her chest tingle with urgency. "Can you _tell_ me what he said?"

"Yeah. He said..." Peter cocked his head to one side, clearly fishing for the memory. "He said _heed the old ballands 'cause your lady waits_."

"Anything else?" There had to be something more. Puck was obscure, but he'd give more than this slim hint. He had to.

"Nope. What's a balland?" Peter's green eyes were wide, full of questions. If Puck had said anything else, the kid wasn't remembering.

Jennet wanted to kick something and yell. Instead she squeezed her eyes shut, folded her hands into quiet fists, and concentrated on what Peter had told her. _Heed the old ballands_. Ballads? That made more sense. One of Thomas's old books was filled with ballads about the faerie-folk. She hadn't thought to look through those. They were just songs.

"Are you ok?" Tam's little brother took her hand. His grasp was sticky and warm.

Jennet opened her eyes. "Maybe. A ballad is an old song that tells a story."

"What's a _heed_?"

"It means to pay attention to something."

Maybe, just maybe, there was a ballad that could help. She glanced at Tam. His expression was still, his hair, for once, pushed back from his face and staying that way. The machines surrounding the bed gave off steady blips and beeps.

Ok. Halloween wasn't until tomorrow. There was still time. Crazy hope sputtered to life in her heart. She had to get Dad to take them home, so she could start looking through her books right away.

"Who's waiting?" Peter asked.

"Who what?" She pulled her attention back to the kid holding her hand.

"Puck said _your lady waits_." He gave her a tentative smile. "Are you the lady? I hope you are. Your hair is pretty."

_I hope I am, too._

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

In the grav-car on the way home, Dad talked. Jennet let the words wash over her. He'd explained things to Tam's mom. Tam's family would be taken care of, and VirtuMax would pick up the bills.

"Obviously it's the Full-D hardware." Dad was thinking aloud. "The wiring, the interface - we have to figure out what's gone wrong. The company can't ignore this. We can't go into production."

At least the game wasn't going to be released. But what would happen when the company didn't find anything wrong with their system? Would Dad believe her then?

Back at their house, they had a quiet dinner. As soon as she had pushed her food around enough to look like she had eaten, Jennet pleaded a headache and retreated to her room. She went straight to her bookshelves and scanned the titles. Where was that old ballad book?

Heart clenching, she pulled books out and piled them in haphazard stacks. There - _English and Scottish Popular Ballads_. Relief made her fingers tremble as she traced the faded green lettering on the cover. She opened it, wrinkling her nose at the faint musty odor clinging to the pages, and scanned the table of contents.

The ballads were listed by number, not title. She flipped to the section where the songs about the faeries were, and started reading. The Elfin Knight, The Wee Wee Man....

An hour later her head was full of images. Silver bells braided into a horse's mane, jewel-studded goblets made of red gold, faeries leading humans astray. Humans tricking faeries in return. But nothing, so far, about escaping from the Realm of Faerie.

She turned the page, read the title of the next ballad, and froze. Then reaction set in - a punch to the gut that left her gasping. She blinked, but the words remained, the script indelible on the page.

**_Tam Lin_**

Heart thudding, Jennet read the song.

A mortal girl named Janet must rescue her true love from the Faerie Queen. Oh god, how could this ballad be here? How could a song hundreds of years old be about her and Tam? Her hands shook as she turned the page, her mind hazed with disbelief.

_The night is Halloween, lady,_

_The morn is Hallowday,_

_And for to win me, win me well_

_Take heed to what I say._

_Just at the mirk and midnight hour_

_The faerie folk will ride,_

_And they that would their true-love win_

_At Miles Cross must bide._

Jennet swallowed, the flavor of fear sharp in her mouth. Halloween was tomorrow. And even though she had no idea where it was, she had to be someplace called Miles Cross at midnight. There was enough time for her to go in-game and find it. Except that she couldn't let Dad catch her - and he'd probably told HANA, and... damn. All right, she'd figure that out later.

Taking a deep breath, she bent over the book and read.

When she finished the ballad, a shiver ran through her. Did the Dark Queen really have that kind of power?

"Jennet?" It was Dad, knocking on her door. "Are you feeling any better?"

She shut the book and slipped it under of one of the stacks around her. "Yes. Come in if you want."

Dad opened the door, but stayed at the threshold. "It's getting late. I know it has been a... a hard day, but try and get some sleep. It will help."

Finding the ballad helped more, but she nodded. "All right. You too, Dad - you look tired."

He did, tired and sad and old. Pushing the books aside, Jennet stood and went to the door to give him a hug. Even at her age, it was comforting. Probably for both of them.

"Ok, honey." Dad let her go with a weary smile. "Have a good day at school tomorrow. I'll get off work early, and we can go see how Tam is doing."

Even though her mind was clamoring for her to turn on the sim and go in-game, to find Miles Cross, to get ready, she knew she couldn't risk it. If Dad found her playing tonight, there would be no way she could get back into Feyland. No. She'd have to wait until late tomorrow. If she still had a system to play on, that was.

"Um, Dad? Maybe you should wait to pull out the Full-D systems. So that everything is still there, in place. Just in case..."

She wasn't even sure what she was trying to argue. If Tam didn't make it, would the police, or anyone, care if they had removed the system?

Dad frowned. "I see your point. We'll leave the systems intact for now - though it probably won't be an issue. Tam is getting the best of care."

It sounded like he was trying to convince himself, too, that everything was going to be all right. Still, her dad was a stickler for the rules. If he said the Full-D was staying, then it would.

One obstacle down. At least she'd _have_ a system to sneak onto. She had the feeling she had to do it exactly as the ballad said - which meant waiting until tomorrow, Halloween, at the 'mirk and midnight hour.'

All she had to do was make it through the next twenty-four hours. All she had to do was act normally while despair and hope and eerie ballads collided inside her head, so hard that she felt she was about to implode.

"Goodnight, Jennet. I love you."

"You too, Dad. 'Night." She shut her door. Sleep felt a thousand miles away.

Somewhere, in the dark, Tam's body lay quietly, kept alive by the hum of machines. Somewhere, in the dark, the Wild Hunt slipped free, fey hounds baying through the desperate night.

CHAPTER FORTY

Tam stood utterly still as two faerie maidens swirled about him. One fixed gilded oak leaves to the front of his tunic while the other wove a cloak of cobwebs about his shoulders. The faerie glade was glittering with excitement, but none of it touched him. He felt as if there were a layer of fog between him and the world. Between his thoughts and his heart.

In the shadows, Bard Thomas strummed his guitar. Silvery riffs of music blended with the laughter and motion of the fey-folk, and the words of Thomas's song lilted to Tam.

" _Tonight so mirk and deep we ride,_

_Depart unseelie from the glade,_

_This Hallow's Eve the Hunt will bide,_

_To pay the tiend the Faerie Rade."_

Half of it sounded like gibberish, but it was clear the faeries were getting ready to go somewhere. And taking him with them.

"Brave Tamlin." The Dark Queen's voice slid over his senses like midnight silk.

He turned his head to see her standing beside him. Her dress was layers of moon-dappled cloud, with pale glimpses of her skin beneath. The scent of night-blooming flowers perfumed the air with their secrets. He felt dizzy.

"My lady," he said.

She moved to stand before him, her slim body so close it made his skin vibrate. Her slender fingers caressed his cheek. Then she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. Stars exploded through his body, a rush of painful sensation like blood returning to a frozen limb. She tasted of spices and wild honey. Like everything perfect, and forbidden.

An instant later, the kiss ended. Tam clenched his hands. If he reached for her, she would slip through his grasp like smoke, laughing.

"You are strong and fair, my knight."

"I..." Someone else had called him her knight. For a bare second Tam remembered pale hair, a soft smile - and then the memory was gone. Lost to the dusky magic of the faerie realm.

A hint of sorrow touched the queen's voice. "A bonny offering you make. Would that I could keep you."

"What's going on?" Vague curiosity uncurled inside him.

"You fulfill your destiny, brave knight. And ours. Now - to the final preparations."

The queen held a mask in her hands. Tam caught a glimpse of gold and crimson laid in opulent patterns. She lifted it to his face, and his vision narrowed. Directly in front of him stood a hairy brown figure holding the bridle of a white horse. Gold and crimson caparisons draped the steed, and tiny silver bells were braided into its mane. They chimed, high and delicate, as he mounted.

Before him, the Black Knight handed the queen up onto a chestnut brown horse. Then the knight mounted his own dark steed and held up one black-gloved hand.

The clearing grew still, the air hushed and expectant.

"Now, my court," the queen said, her words falling, clear as frozen crystal, into the silence. "Now the gateway lies within our grasp. Now we ride!"

It was late - way late. Jennet lay in her bed, watching the numbers glow on her clock while her body grew cold and tight with fear. Ten. Ten-thirty. Light still shone from the crack under her door. What was Dad doing? Why didn't he go to bed?

Every nerve in her body was screaming for her to go, go, go! Jump out of bed and get in-game. Save Tam, before it was too late.

But she couldn't risk it, even though her stomach churned with fear. Not until Dad turned off the lights.

Finally, at eleven-oh-five, the house darkened. Jennet forced herself to wait another few minutes before silently slipping out of bed. The thick carpeting made her feet noiseless as she tiptoed down the hall. There was a game she used to play - moving so slowly and silently that she wouldn't trigger HANA's sensors. She held her breath and hoped she hadn't forgotten the knack. She trailed one hand along the wall, careful to avoid the table at the corner. There was no way she could explain her way out of this if she were caught.

She closed and locked the game room door behind her, wincing as the lock made a quiet metallic noise. Still feeling her way, she fumbled for the jamming field switch. It hummed to life, and she let out a breath. Her lungs felt like they were made of metal, impervious to air.

The sim chair powered on smoothly, and Jennet pulled on the helmet, the gloves. Time to go.

Feyland unfurled, and she plunged into the swirl of golden light.

She landed, as usual, in a grassy circle, then fell to her knees while sick shudders racked her. Gasping, she fought back the sensation. Tam. She couldn't waste time vomiting in a faerie ring. She had to find Miles Cross.

As soon as she stepped over the mushrooms, a thin hand tugged at her robes. "Quickly, quickly," a high voice said.

"Puck?" She held up her staff. The blue glow illuminated the figure of the sprite. His usual grin was gone, and he danced back and forth with impatience.

"Of course it is I. Follow!" He dashed down the path.

Jennet gathered her skirts in one hand and ran after him. It was bad, if the sprite wasn't even giving her cryptic hints and riddles. They must be nearly out of time.

They burst out of the forest of pale trees into a midnight landscape. Shadows lay heavy on the land, and there was no moon.

"Puck - where are you?" The blackness pressed against Jennet. She swallowed the sourness of her own fear.

"Here!" The sprite grabbed her robes again and towed her forward, at a speed that made her stumble.

Up one hill, then down. Up another, pressing forward through brambles that raked at her skin. Breath rasped through her throat.

Puck was grimly silent. Only the constant pull on her robes let her know he was still there.

Up ahead, a faint light shone through the dark. She squinted and made out a single lantern hanging from a post, illuminating the pale dust of two roads crossing. A crossroads.

"Miles Cross?" she gasped.

"Hurry!" Abruptly, Puck's grip on her eased.

She whirled, but the sprite had disappeared. With his last command ringing in her ears, Jennet sprinted forward.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Jennet ran into the pale circle of light at the crossroads. The silence of the night was marred by her great, gasping breaths.

Nobody here yet. She had made it in time. She wrapped both hands around her staff and tried to get her breathing back under control.

She could make out a circle of standing stones in the darkness across the road. The trembling rush of her blood steadied as she looked at the stones, faintly illuminated by the lantern. Wait. She blinked and looked again. The stones themselves were softly lit, as though they were glowing with centuries of absorbed starlight.

A noise pulled her attention back to the road. Something was coming, something still distant - barely felt in the vibration of hooves, the faint drift of chiming bells.

Her heartbeat slammed through her chest. She had to hide - but where? Not the stone circle, it was too far. Her gaze darted around the shadowed edges of the light. There, a bit of leaves with a darker mass behind. A thorny bush, just big enough for her to crouch behind. She hurried behind it and knelt down. The soil was cool beneath her knees and a prickle grazed the back of one hand, but it was the best she could do.

There were lights moving along the road, some twinkling, some steady. The sound of bells was stronger. A soft wind swirled around her, carrying the scent of spice and frost. The Dark Queen's court was approaching. And with them, Tam Linn.

The words of the ballad ran through her head. She had read them over and over all day, until she felt the shape of them burned into her brain.

_Oh first let pass the black horse,_

_And then let pass the brown,_

_But quickly run to the milk-white steed_

_And pull the rider down._

Tam would be riding the white horse. She'd grab on to him - and then the transformations she'd read about would begin. No matter what, she had to hold on.

Something tickled the back of her mind. Something essential she had forgotten. Come on, what was it. Think! She covered her ears with her hands, trying to block out the sound of the imminent faeries. Trying to block out the fear that rose in a dark, suffocating wave. The ballad said... it said...

_At last they'll turn me in your arms_

_Into a naked knight,_

_Then cloak me in your mantle green_

_And cover me from sight._

That was it; the green cloak. Oh god, she'd nearly lost before she'd even begun. She drew in a ragged breath, trying to imagine it in perfect detail. Long green cloak. With a hood.

"A mantle green." She whispered the words.

It appeared, lying soft and heavy in her arms. She pulled it on, awkwardly, since she was kneeling on the ground, and tied it around her neck. Now she was ready. Barely.

The Dark Court slowed as they reached the crossroads. From her hiding place, she scanned the ranks of creatures. The very front of the company was led by a row of figures in pale armor, lances prickling up, faces covered by their helms. Behind them cavorted redcap goblins, their faces grotesque, their teeth glinting and sharp.

Other creatures, half-animal in form, trailed them. Was that walking clump of brown hair Fynnod? Before she could tell, a faerie with the head of a bird and feathery wings blocked her view. A delicate bevy of maidens followed, their hair like spun moonlight, silver bells edging their gossamer robes.

And behind them... she shivered. The Black Knight riding his black charger, forbidding in his midnight armor. Then came the Dark Queen, beautiful as an eclipse, on a chestnut mare. Jennet's mouth went dry and she shrank down behind her bush, which suddenly felt far too small to conceal her. The black horse, and the brown. Where was the white horse?

The company halted and the queen spoke. Her voice was the edge of twilight, full of mystery and dark promise.

"My court, long have we waited. Long have we languished while our strength waned, deprived of the essence that sustains us. But on this eve we renew the land. On this eve we reclaim our ancient birthright. On this eve we open a gateway to the mortal realm!"

A clamor of fey and feral voices greeted her words. The queen raised one hand, and the noise subsided.

"Honor our sacrifice," she said, "for he is a brave knight, and true. And now, we shall pay the tiend. Onward - the stones await!"

The faeries surged forward, and Jennet bolted to her feet. Fear sliced through her, sharp and unstoppable. Where was Tam?

The Black Knight thundered past. Next came the queen, her gaze fixed on the stones ahead, her face lit with unearthly beauty. Finally, finally, a white horse. The rider was garbed in gold and crimson glory, an ornate mask covering his face. It had to be Tam. Had to be. Jennet flung herself forward.

The horse was tall, but she was desperate. She managed to get her arms around Tam's waist, even though he didn't stop. Her shoulders burned as she was dragged forward. There was no traction, no way to pull him down.

"Tam!" she yelled. "Get off the horse! Tam, do you hear me?"

He didn't even glance at her - it was like she didn't exist. Jennet swallowed the desperate sob building in her throat. She couldn't hold on much longer.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a figure overtaking them. Some fey creature, ready to strike her down. Fingers numb, she ignored it and kept holding onto Tam. The figure drew up on the other side of the white horse.

"Get ready," a voice called, and Jennet jerked her gaze up to see an achingly familiar face. Thomas. Here to help.

She nodded, and Thomas set his hands to Tam's unresponsive shoulder. He gave a shove. Tam teetered a moment in the saddle then, finally, fell. Jennet's arms were locked around his waist as together they tumbled backward to land in a bone-jarring tangle on the ground. Her side burned and she couldn't grab a breath. The mask slid off to reveal Tam's face, his eyes wide and confused.

"Tam!" Air whooshed into her lungs. She leaned forward and kissed him, a quick, relieved press of her lips to his. They would get through this. "Can you stand up?"

It would be easier to hold on to him that way. Her right arm was twisted uncomfortably underneath his waist, but she didn't want to tug it free. Hold on - no matter what. Hold on.

"Jennet?" Tam shook his head, sending a swatch of brown hair across one eye. He sat up, and she shifted her grip, both hands tight around his arm. "I--"

A blast of thunder shook the sky, the sound so deep Jennet felt more than heard it. Her whole body vibrated, and she nearly lost her grasp on Tam again. The air brightened, as though the sun had leaped into the sky. She looked up, then wished she hadn't. The night sky was now a tattered cloth, the stars blazing white-hot behind the scrim of dark, shedding an eerie, furious glow.

Around them, the fey-folk were crying out and covering their heads. The orderly procession was now a panicked jumble, the sound of bells clashing and discordant.

"HALT!" The queen's command filled the air, like an echo of thunder.

Silence followed - an awful, frozen silence. The only movement was the Dark Queen, her face filled with a terrifying wrath as she rode to where Jennet knelt beside Tam.

"Brave knight," she said, turning the force of her midnight beauty on Tam. "Rise, and mount again. The circle lies but nine paces on, and you shall be safe therein."

Jennet bit her lip, hard. If Tam wanted to pull free, she didn't know if she could fight him. "Tam," she breathed.

He gave no sign that he'd heard her.

The queen's face softened and she held out one delicate hand. "Come."

"No," he said. "I'm safe right here."

Jennet swayed with relief. Then she saw the queen's expression and stiffened again. It wasn't going to be that easy. Of course not. There were all the transformations to get through. She tightened her hands around Tam's arm.

"No?" The queen's voice was a killing frost. "If you will not take leave of this mortal, then I shall make _her_ take leave of you." She raised an arm and cast her voice over the eldritch crowd. "The final price then they will pay, 'ere I cry Tamlin's away!"

Whatever that meant. Jennet looked at Tam, about to urge him to get up again, but the words stilled in her throat. He was changing, his features flattening out grotesquely, his limbs disappearing... she couldn't hold his arm anymore because he had no arm.

The icy laughter of the Dark Queen cut through her panic. Jennet reached forward and grabbed what Tam was turning into. Scales slid under her palms, but she hugged him tight against her. The smell of something dry and ancient assaulted her nose. The body pressed against hers was one long rope of writhing muscle.

_Snake!_ the primitive part of her brain shrieked, but she made herself hold on. Even when a sibilant hiss made her look up, right into a fanged mouth. Even when she felt the coiled tension that signaled it was about to strike.

A single whimper crawled out of her throat.

Hold on. No matter what.

The scales under her hand roughened, turned to fur. Another smell, rank and greasy, assaulted her senses. Tam had regained limbs, but they ended in wicked-looking yellow claws. Instead of fangs, she was confronted with a bear's mouth, full of rending teeth.

Oh god. Hold on. It was Tam, under all that coarse black hair. He wouldn't bite her. Please, don't let him bite her.

The bear opened its mouth wider. She threaded her fingers into the fur and squeezed her eyes closed. The roar, when it came, shook through her. Midway through it changed from a bear's bellowing to the threatening growl of a great cat.

She forced her eyes open, and met the feral gaze of a lion. _Run!_ the mouse inside her squeaked. Death and ruin in those yellow eyes.

Don't let go.

From a distance, she heard the Dark Queen's voice, raised in wild chanting. The huge, furry body in her arms began to shrink and darken. It grew heavy and cool, one moment a live thing, the next inert metal in her hands. She looked down and blinked. A bar of iron lay in her palms.

They were almost done.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

The iron bar began to glow. A sullen red at first, it started to give off heat, like a stove that had just been turned on. Jennet's palms tingled, then stung, but she didn't dare shift the bar from hand to hand. She couldn't risk dropping it.

The metal got brighter, and with it the heat. She gritted her teeth and held on, despite the scorching in her hands. Despite the pain, the blisters forming on her skin. Her breath came in little pants, dry and shallow. Hold on.

The bar flared crimson. Too. Hot. Each breath carried a sob with it now, a high, keening noise she barely recognized as coming from her. She couldn't... hold on. Dammit. Hold _on_.

It was like clutching a piece of the sun. So bright she couldn't look at it, a pulsing gold-red that seared itself against her eyes. She couldn't take her hands away - it felt as though the molten metal had fused itself to her body.

Agony burned into her bones. Her throat hurt, and it took a moment for her to realize it was because she was screaming. There was nothing left. Only pain.

And then it was over.

She bent, dry-heaving, tasting nothing but sour bile. She couldn't feel her hands.

"Jennet?" It was Tam's voice, shaky and close. "Hey, Jen. Look at me. Right here."

She straightened, met his worried green eyes. All traces of his elaborate costume were gone. He knelt before her, naked.

"The cloak," she gasped, fumbling at the ties. "We have to cover you." Her fingers weren't working - there was something wet and slick getting in her way.

Tam reached out and helped loosen the cloak, and together they spread it over him. When she drew the hood over his face, her hands left dark blotches on the cloth. Blood.

The Dark Queen swept up to them. Her eyes held hurricanes.

"Ill met, Fair Jennet," she said, her voice cold with rage. "You have stolen the fairest knight in all my company."

Jennet scraped in a breath. "You stole him first. I just took him back."

She had, hadn't she? A tremble started, low in the pit of her stomach, the first unbelieving stirrings of triumph. They had won.

"Brave Tamlin." The queen turned to Tam, her voice changing to smoke and sorrow. "If I had seen what would pass this night, I would not have stayed my hand. Your mortal heart betrayed us. Better by far if I had taken it and given you one of stone."

"I'd rather be mortal," Tam said, "than sacrificed so the faeries could rampage through the human realm. You lost."

The air grew chill. Frost sparkled in the Dark Queen's hair. "The gateway remains closed, 'tis true. For now."

"Forever," Jennet said.

God, she hoped so. She couldn't go through this again. Her hands felt like lumps of wood attached to her wrists. If she looked at them, she knew she'd be sick.

The queen lifted her fingers and traced a silvery symbol in the air. "Begone from here, mortals. Be gone!"

The eerie starlight brightened to gold, and a wind began to whirl about Jennet and Tam. The edges of the cloak he was wearing lifted and spun.

"Wait!" Jennet reached for him. "Tam--"

Too late. Her words were lost in a flare of swirling light as she was hurtled back into her own world.

She fell into the sim chair with a whimper. Somehow her helmet and gloves had come off - and the chair next to her was empty. Where was Tam?

The door to the game room banged open.

"Jennet!" her dad yelled, running to the chair and thumbing off the jammer. "What the hell are you doing? I told you the system was dangerous and - oh my god." He was staring at her hands. "What happened to you? HANA! Call George - and get me an emergency kit, right away."

_"Of course. Here you are, sir."_ A cupboard door popped open from the wall. Dad pulled a medi-pack out and ripped it open.

"Jennet, your hands..."

Finally, she looked down. Bile rose in her throat, and she wished she hadn't. Her hands looked like raw meat. The skin was gone, and blood oozed to the surface. They had hurt before, but seeing the damage made the pain blaze up. Hot tears pricked her eyes.

"Sorry, Dad," she whispered, then tried not to cry out as he laid plas-skin bandages over her palms. "I had to save Tam."

Face set, Dad just shook his head. "I'm taking you to the ER."

"Central Hospital?" She had to find out if Tam was all right. What had happened to him when the Dark Queen flung them back into the mortal world?

She was probably grounded for life. But as long as Tam was all right, she didn't care.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

"We have to ask about Tam, Dad." Jennet kept her voice low, though it didn't seem like anyone else in the ER waiting room was remotely interested. The pain in her hands was a distant, fuzzy thing, numbed by the plas-skin Dad had slathered on and the pills he'd made her swallow.

"Not until we get your hands looked at."

She knew better than to push it, though hope and worry knocked through her with every breath. At least she was in the same hospital as Tam.

It didn't take long for the med techs to get to her. They peeled off the plas-skin, making worried, interested noises.

"How'd this happen?" one of the techs asked.

"I, um, touched something hot." She couldn't meet Dad's eyes. It was true, just not in any way he could understand.

"More than touched it, I'd say." The tech shook his head. "Luckily, it looks like you got the plas-skin on in time to stop any permanent nerve damage. You're not going to be able to use your hands for a while, though."

"Ok." As long as Tam was all right, it was worth it. Was he all right? The question pushed through her, insistent as her own heartbeat.

Finally, they were done. Her hands were numbed and re-wrapped, and Dad finished signing the last of the forms, and then tucked his tablet away. In response to her pleading glance, he gave her a weary nod.

"We'll ask at the main desk," he said. "The techs here have enough to do without checking on a patient already admitted."

"Thanks." Her voice trembled.

The windows in the main corridors showed a pale sky. Dawn. All Hallow's Eve was over.

The woman at the main desk looked up Tam's record. "I don't see any change," she said. "Visiting hours start at seven, if you'd like to go up then."

Jennet peeked at the desk display. "That's only ten minutes from now. Please, could we go up early? He's a good friend." She lifted her bandaged hands and set them carefully on the counter. Playing the sympathy card.

"We're here now, after all," Dad said.

"Well..." The woman shook her head, but she was smiling. "Okay. But don't tell them I sent you."

"Thanks so much." Jennet hurried to the bank of elevators and pushed the button with her elbow. It was strange to have no working hands.

As the elevator doors closed behind them, Dad cleared his throat. "Jen. I know you think that the game has something to do with Tam's condition. And I know you think you were able to change it. But you should be prepared for the fact that he's still in a coma."

"I know." Worry shivered across the back of her neck. But no matter what the receptionist had said, _something_ had to have changed.

They got off on the fourth floor. Nobody was at the nurse's station. Ignoring Dad's cautionary look, Jennet marched down the hall to Tam's room and peeked in the half-open door.

Three med-techs crowded around Tam's bed. His mom was there, too, and his little brother. She slipped inside, holding her breath until she could catch a glimpse of him.

Tam. He was awake, hair falling across his face, green eyes open as he nodded at something a med-tech had said. Her heart opened like the sun breaking free.

Tam's little brother looked up, and caught sight of her. He gave her a big smile. "Hey, Jennet! Tam waked up."

Tears itched the back of her eyes. "Yes."

She stepped forward, and one of the techs made room for her at the side of the bed. Behind her, she felt Dad's solid presence. He put a hand on her shoulder, apology and forgiveness in that touch.

"Jennet," Tam said.

Just her name, but it was enough. Their gazes locked. He was pale, and his eyes held shadows. Shadows she knew lurked in her own - memories of Feyland and their battles against the Dark Queen.

"Hi." She wanted to touch him, but her hands were unwieldy lumps of gauze.

He reached for her, instead, and set one hand on her wrist, just above the bandages. His fingers were warm and alive, and her skin tingled at the touch.

They had won.

That night, Jennet dreamed she was in Feyland. She stood in a meadow of pale flowers. Above her the sky was pink with approaching dawn, and the air tasted of magic and possibility. There was a peaceful hush on the land, as though at any moment birds would break into full-throated song.

"Jennet?"

She turned to find Tam standing beside her. The light breeze ruffled his hair and pulled at his T-shirt. It was strange to see him without his armor. He smiled at her, something tentative and tender in his eyes.

"Hi," she said.

A thousand other words danced on her tongue, things like thanks and sacrifice, fear and joy, hope and longing. Love. She didn't know where to begin.

"Are you ok?" he asked. "I mean... it was a little confusing there for a while."

"I'm all right. But how could you sacrifice yourself like that, Tam? I nearly lost you."

Her heart clenched at the memory. She wanted to shake him. She wanted to throw her arms tight around him and never let go.

"I had to." His eyes held hers, their expression unguarded. "Trading myself for you was the only way. But I'm glad you figured out how to free me."

"Me, too." She had to look away from him, or she'd start crying. "Puck helped, though. And Thomas."

"Thomas. Do you think we'll ever see him again?"

"At least once." The quiet answer came from behind them.

Jennet whirled, to see the bard. The first sunlight lay on his cheek and glinted in his wise and weary eyes.

"Thomas!" She hugged him, hard. "I was so afraid...but your book of ballads had the answer, and then you helped..." The tears she'd tried to hide from Tam tipped over onto her cheeks.

"Hush." Thomas stroked her hair. "Your battle with the Dark Queen is over now. The gate remains closed. You and your champion both sacrificed much, but you have won."

"What about you?" she asked. "Can you come back to the real world now?"

He shook his head, and she pulled away. She should have known better than to hope. Her voice trembled. "Will I see you again?"

"Perchance. I have an inkling that the magic of Faerie is not yet done with the two of you." He looked at Tam. "Guard your lady well, bold knight."

Tam stepped up beside her and slid his arm around her shoulders. He felt warm and solid - a strength she could lean into.

"I will," Tam said. "And she's watching out for me too, you know."

Thomas nodded. "Then I bid you both farewell. And good luck."

He began to fade as though he were made of mist. Jennet could see the pale bells of the meadow flowers through him, the transparent half-smile on his face.

"Goodbye, Thomas," she whispered as he disappeared.

Then there was only empty air, and birds singing. And Tam beside her, holding her, strong and true.

He looked at her, his green eyes so serious. Slowly, he dipped his head, bringing their faces close. His hair brushed over her cheek and she tilted her mouth up to meet his. Their lips touched in a perfect kiss.

Jennet closed her eyes. Light spread through her, like she'd sipped the sunrise.

No matter what happened next, she and Tam would face it. Together.

THE BALLAD OF TAM LIN

I forbid you maidens all

That wear gold in your hair

To come or go by Carter Hall

For young Tam Lin is there.

Janet has kilted her kirtle green

A little about her knee,

And she has braided her yellow hair

A little above her bree,

And she's away to Carter Hall,

As fast as she can hie.

When she came to Carter Hall

Tam Lin was at the well,

And there she found his steed standing,

But away was himself.

The steed that my true-love rides on

Is lighter than the wind,

With silver he is shod before,

With burning gold behind.

She had not pulled a double rose,

A rose but only two,

Till up then started young Tam Lin,

Says, 'Lady, pick no more.

And once it fell upon a day,

A cold day and a snell,

When we were from the hunting come,

That from my horse I fell;

The Queen o Fairies she caught me,

In yon green hill to dwell.'

'And pleasant is the fairy land,

But an eerie tale to tell,

Aye at the end of seven years

We pay a tiend to hell;

I am so fair and full o flesh,

I'm feared it be myself.

The night is Halloween, lady,

The morn is Hallowday,

And for to win me, win me well

Take heed to what I say.

Just at the mirk and midnight hour

The faerie folk will ride,

And they that would their true-love win,

At Miles Cross must bide.

Oh first let pass the black horse,

And then let pass the brown,

But quickly run to the milk-white steed

And pull the rider down.

'They'll turn me in your arms, lady,

An adder and a snake;

But hold me fast, let me not go,

To be your worldly mate.

'They'll turn me to a bear

And then a lion bold;

But hold me fast, and fear me not,

As ye shall love your child.

'Again they'll turn me in your arms

To a red hot bar of iron;

But hold me fast, and fear me not,

I'll do to you no harm.

At last they'll turn me in your arms

Into a naked knight,

Then cloak me in your mantle green,

And cover me from sight.'

Gloomy, gloomy was the night,

And eerie was the way,

As fair Janet in her mantle green

To Miles Cross she did go.

About the middle of the night

She heard the bridles ring;

This lady was as glad at that

As any earthly thing.

First she let the black pass by,

And then she let the brown;

But quickly she ran to the milk-white steed,

And pulled the rider down.

So well she minded what he did say,

And young Tam Lin did win;

Then covered him with her mantle green,

As blithe's a bird in spring.

Out then spoke the Queen o Fairies,

Out of a bush of broom;

'She that has gotten young Tam Lin

Has got a stately groom.'

Out then spoke the Queen o Fairies,

Out of a bush of rye:

'She that has gotten young Tam Lin

Has the best knight in my company.

Had I but known, Tam Lin,' she says,

'Before I came from home,

I'd taken out that heart of flesh,

Put in a heart of stone.'

Collected by Francis James Child, English and Scottish Popular Ballads

**Thank you!**

Thanks for reading FEYLAND: THE DARK REALM! The next two books in the trilogy, FEYLAND: THE BRIGHT COURT and FEYLAND: THE TWILIGHT KINGDOM are available in both print and digital from all online retailers - plus a *FREE* short story prequel, FEYLAND: THE FIRST ADVENTURE.

If you enjoyed this story, please consider helping other readers find this book:

1. This e-book is lendable - consider sending it to a friend who you think might like it.

2. Leave a review on Amazon, Goodreads, or any other site of your choice. It makes a difference, and is greatly appreciated!

3. Request that your local library purchase a print copy, so that other readers can discover the Feyland trilogy.

Be the first to know about new releases and reader perks by subscribing to Anthea's quarterly newsletter, Sharp Tales, at <https://tinyletter.com/AntheaSharp>.

FEYLAND: THE BRIGHT COURT -

**_INSIDE THE GAME..._**

Jennet Carter escaped the dark faeries of Feyland once. Now, fey magic is seeping out of the prototype game, beguiling the unwary and threatening everyone she cares about.

**_MAGIC..._**

Tam Linn may be a hero in-game, but his real life is severely complicated. Still, he'll do whatever it takes to stop the creatures of Feyland, even if it means pushing Jennet toward the new guy in school-the one with an inside connection to sim-gaming... and the uncanny ability to charm everyone he meets.

**_ALWAYS WINS..._**

Despite the danger, Jennet and Tam must return to Feyland to face the magic of the Bright Court-and a powerful new enemy who won't stop until the human world is at the mercy of the Realm of Faerie.

FEYLAND: THE TWILIGHT KINGDOM

**_THEIR LAST CHANCE..._**

Jennet Carter and Tam Linn are almost out of time. Feyland, the most immersive computer game ever designed, is about to be released into the world-along with the Realm of Faerie's dangerous magic.

**_WIN THE GAME..._**

The faeries, desperate to break free from their realm, have set treacherous plans in motion. Despite magical allies of their own, Jennet and Tam have no idea what dire threats await, both in-game and out.

**_OR DIE TRYING..._**

Battling for their lives against the united powers of the Dark Queen and Bright King, Jennet and Tam's quest to stop the fey takes them into the perilous Twilight Kingdom, where illusion reigns-and magic can break all the rules.

The complete trilogy is also available in one epic digital bundle:

FEYLAND: THE COMPLETE TRILOGY

Faeries. Computer games. A boy from the wrong side of the tracks, and the girl he's afraid to love...

What if a high-tech computer game was a gateway to the treacherous Realm of Faerie?

"Ms. Sharp is a master storyteller... The Feyland books have found a prized place on my all-time favorite books list." - Rebecca McKinnon, The Crooked Word

"This is a great series that deserves more attention. The books are quick and exciting reads, and if you like stories based on fairy tales, or if you enjoyed both the portrayal of the fae in Mercy Thompson and October Daye and the virtual world of Ready Player One, you will love this series." - Kate, Epic Chocolate Fantasy

"The series has come full circle with the great cast of characters and events that take place. Would recommend for everyone!" - Jen, What's on the Bookshelf

And don't miss the FREE short story prequel, FEYLAND: THE FIRST ADVENTURE!

_High-tech gaming and ancient magic collide when a computer game opens a gateway to the treacherous Realm of Faerie._

Jennet Carter never thought hacking into her dad's new epic-fantasy sim-game would be so exciting... or dangerous. Behind the interface, dark forces lie in wait, leading her toward a battle that will test her to her limits and cost her more than she ever imagined.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:

Thank you to the many people who made this book possible: the encouragement of my terrific CP Peggy, fabulous proof and beta-readers Colin, Sean (aka Captain Grammar Pants), Chassily, Marissa, Nicole, Kaitlynn, and Brynn. My patient and supportive in-house editor, Lawson, and keen-eyed reader Ginger. Thanks also to Annette Nishimoto for skillful copy-editing.

For great design work, Kim Killion, and for the inspiration to move forward, gratitude to Kris, Dean, and PG.

Finally, for all the adventures in-game, epic thanks to Sylven, Dom, and Fates Legion that was.

For other wonderful YA retellings of the ballad of Tam Lin, Anthea recommends Elizabeth Pope's _The Perilous Gard_ and Diana Wynne Jones's _Fire and Hemlock_.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Growing up, Anthea Sharp spent most of her summers raiding the library shelves and reading, especially fantasy. She now makes her home in the Pacific Northwest, where she writes, plays the fiddle, and spends time with her small-but-good family. Contact her at antheasharp@hotmail.com or visit her website - www.antheasharp.com

Anthea also writes historical romance under the pen name Anthea Lawson. Find out about her acclaimed Victorian romantic adventures at www.anthealawson.com.

Be the first to know about new releases and reader perks by subscribing to Anthea's quarterly newsletter, Sharp Tales, at <https://tinyletter.com/AntheaSharp>.

#

# FAELOREHN

Book One of the

Otherworld Trilogy

by

Jenna Elizabeth Johnson

Copyrighted Material

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are a product of the author's imagination. All material in connection with Celtic myth has been borrowed and interpreted for use in the plot of the story only. Cover image is the sole property of the author. The Faelorehn font on the cover image and interior of this book was created by P.A. Vannucci (www.alphabetype.it) to be used in the Otherworld Trilogy. Any resemblance to actual persons is entirely coincidental.

Faelorehn

Copyright © 2012 by Jenna Elizabeth Johnson

All rights reserved.

No part of this book or its cover may be reproduced in any manner without written permission from its creator.

For more information and to contact the author, visit:

www.jennaelizabethjohnson.com

This book was written with Annalee Rejhon in mind. Thank you for instilling in me a love for all things Celtic.

Contents

One

Memories

Two

Vagrant

Three

Voices

Four

Illusion

Five

Samhain

Six

Encounter

Seven

Evidence

Eight

Familiar

Nine

Revelation

Ten

Message

Eleven

Rescued

Twelve

Answers

Thirteen

Attacked

Fourteen

Smitten

Fifteen

Confession

Sixteen

Depressed

Seventeen

Betrayed

Eighteen

Heart-broken

Nineteen

Eile

Twenty

Explanation

Acknowledgments

About The Author

Other Books by this Author

Connect with me Online

Sneak Peek of _Dolmarehn_ , Book Two of the Otherworld Trilogy

Faelorehn

-One-

Memories

The only reason I knew that I was awake was because of the pale green glow of neon stars staring back at me from my ceiling. I lay in my bed for a few moments, taking deep, steadying breaths while letting my eyes adjust to the darkness of my room. The remnants of a dream still danced in my mind, but as the approaching dawn light chased away the dark, it tried to slip away. Unfortunately, this particular dream was familiar to me, and it would take a lot more than my return to the conscious world to eject it from my mind.

I turned my head on my pillow and blinked my eyes several times at my alarm clock. Groaning at the early hour, I rolled over onto my stomach and buried my head into the pillow. I guess the darkness had some claim on the subconscious world, because instead of dispelling the dream, my actions only made it come racing back.

Huffing in frustration, I kicked off the covers and leaned over the side of my bed, scrabbling around stray pairs of shoes and forgotten socks as I searched out my current journal. Years ago the therapist I had been seeing thought it would be a good idea to keep track of these strange recurring dreams. Anytime I dreamt of anything that reminded me of my past before entering the foster system, I was supposed to write it down. That and anything strange that I saw or heard while I was awake. I hate to say it, but the visions happened more often than I would like to admit.

Although my collection of diaries held other frivolous information alongside the crazy stuff, at least once a year, on the same date, the exact same dream was described in near perfect detail.

I dusted off the cover of my latest journal, grabbed a pen from my bedside table, clicked on the lamp and opened up a brand new page. The dream was starting to slip away once again, but it wasn't as if I wouldn't be able to remember the details. I had written about this exact dream so many times before I could probably recite it in front of a crowded gymnasium without glancing at the page it was written on. Not that I would ever have the gumption to speak in front of a crowd. Nevertheless, I began writing:

_I had the dream again; the one that always comes to me this time of year. The fog wasn't as thick as usual in my dreamscape, but I could feel the grit and cold of the blacktop beneath my bare feet. I looked down. Of course I was naked, but at least I was a toddler in the dream._

I paused and thought about that. I had decided a long time ago that the dream was merely a subconscious illustration of the saga that was my beginning. According to my adoptive parents, I was found when I was two years old, wandering the dark streets of Los Angeles (on Halloween night of all times), completely nude and babbling some nonsense that no one could decipher. I know most toddlers babble nonsense, but according to the woman at the adoption agency, what I babbled was nothing like what normal human babies produced when trying to communicate with others. Oh well. Like the bizarre dream, I can't explain that either. I was lucky, they told my parents, because the part of L.A. they found me in was notorious for gang wars.

Somehow, I survived that nocturnal stroll only to be reminded of that night exactly fifteen times, once a year for every year since I was found. And after fifteen years, I still don't understand why this dream won't leave me alone. I sighed and got back to my writing.

_The dreamscape shifted and I noticed that my right hand was pressed up against a warm, solid shape, my fingers clinging to a wad of something rough and coarse. I could just see what it was out of the corner of my eye: a huge white dog, its bedraggled fur acting as an anchor for my small hand. The dog was massive, even from my child's perspective. I wanted to turn and get a better look at it but something kept my eyes trained forward, as if some crazy hypnotist was twirling a black and white spiral wheel in front of me._

_The city lamps glowed an eerie orange, the only color in this black and gray world, and I leaned closer to the dog next to me. It padded quietly along, not making a sound; almost guiding me to some distant point of interest. I wondered what it all meant, but before I could make anything of it, I woke up._

Just as I shut my journal and replaced my pen on the table, my alarm clock started screeching and I nearly had a heart attack. I had forgotten to shut it off when the dream woke me. I tossed the sheets back and hit the snooze button, not even bothering to turn off my lamp. I wished I could sleep in all day but if I remembered correctly it was Monday. I groaned. Mondays were the worst.

After fifteen minutes of snoozing, I finally got up and made an effort to get ready for the day. I ran my hands through my hair and cringed. It was a tangled mess, but that was normal. I flipped on my bedroom light and stepped in front of the mirror glued to my bathroom door. Ugh. Sometimes I hated my wavy hair. Not straight enough to be considered elegant and not curly enough to be truly beautiful. Tully was always telling me how much she wished her hair had some curl to it. She has the type of hair that is so straight that hair spray won't even keep it in place after she takes a curling iron to it. She has no idea how lucky she is.

Taking a brush to the tangled mess did nothing but make it worse. Sighing, I made my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. For the only girl in a family consisting of five boys, I lucked out and got my own room and bathroom. Of course, the only reason was because my brothers were afraid of this particular part of the house, a converted basement that had served as a storage room to the previous owners. I think they somehow convinced themselves it was haunted, but that was only because it felt like the room was underground. It wasn't completely sunken into the ground though; more like the foundation of the house was pressed into the side of a small hill. The one wall facing the backyard had a sliding glass door that displayed a forest of eucalyptus trees disappearing down into the small marsh that sat behind our neighborhood.

I threw my brush back into the drawer with all the hair bands and hair clips I'd collected over the years. Staring into the mirror, I tried in vain to wish away all my flaws. Unfortunately, no matter how thoroughly I washed my face, I couldn't seem to make the freckles disappear. At least I didn't have as many as Tully. Of course, mine were darker. I scrunched up my nose but that didn't help either. Besides, I couldn't go around looking like an angry rabbit all day and it only made my nose look smaller than it already was.

Eventually, I caught my own gaze in the mirror and cringed slightly when my eyes stared back at me. I sometimes tried to convince myself that it was my awkward height and scattering of freckles that made people turn away from me, but I knew deep down that it was my eyes. They were the windows to the soul, so the saying went. If that was the case then there must be something dreadfully wrong with my soul if people couldn't even bring themselves to look me in the eye. I had trouble doing so myself.

On normal days my eyes were a light hazel color, too large for my face and slanted a little. People used to fuss over me when I was a little girl.

"Oh! What a darling little fairy, with that hair and those eyes!" they would say.

Then they would actually take a good look at my eyes and something would cross their face. A shadow or some subconscious instinct telling them something wasn't quite right about me. They would continue smiling, of course, but I knew, even when I was too young to really understand, I knew they had withdrawn from me.

I crossed my arms and let out a huff of breath. It was foggy out this morning and that meant my eyes would take on a grayer tinge. Yes, they tended to change color from time to time. Something else that made people uneasy. Sometimes I tried to tell myself that that was the real reason why people turned away, because of the color and not what they sensed lying deeper within.

After brushing my teeth, I slipped into my favorite jeans and t-shirt. My Monday clothes, because Monday mornings were just too stressful to have to worry about putting together a cute outfit. Even though I attended a private high school, it conveniently didn't have much of a dress code. Black Lake High, in the small rural city of Arroyo Grande, was actually quite laid back for a private school. In fact, our entire town was pretty easy going on the whole, but that wasn't unusual in the Central Coast region of California where perfect weather was a year-round phenomenon. When my parents first moved here just after adopting me, the Five Cities area was still relatively small, but over time it grew into a bustling rural metropolis of sorts. Fortunately, there was still plenty of open space to spare. I don't think my family could have handled living in a big city with me and all my brothers.

I was in the middle of stuffing my books into my backpack when the door at the top of my spiral staircase swung open violently.

"Meghan, you up?" one of my brothers called from the stairs.

"Yeah Logan, be up in a minute," I called back.

I quickly added a little foundation to my face (I'm not much for overdoing it with makeup), turned to give my unmade bed an accusing glare, then shrugged my backpack onto my shoulder and began climbing the stairs. I hardly ever made my bed, unless I was expecting company. That's a joke. The only company I'm likely to have over is Tully or Robyn. Tully's been my best friend since I moved in with the Elams and became their one and only daughter. Before that I was juggled between foster homes in southern California for the first two years after I was found.

I have to admit I was a strange child, still am, but I didn't know how to hide my oddities when I was that young. People were disturbed by me. Thankfully, no one ever told me I was strange and I didn't realize it at the time. In retrospect, however, the delicate way they handled me or the small glances they would cast my way as they moved further away should have been dead giveaways. I never did anything outwardly dangerous or disturbing, like starting fires or pulling the heads off my dolls, but I unnerved almost everyone I met and it took me a long time to get used to people.

The Elams finally took me in and were the first people to look at me as if I wasn't an alien from some other planet. They were patient with my fits and claims of hearing voices in the trees or seeing monsters in my closet. After taking me to several specialists, they noticed my improvement. When I started spending time with Tully, I started talking about hearing voices again. They tried to separate us but that only resulted in more nightmares and visions of demons. After that, they let me see Tully again. Somewhere in the middle of it all it dawned upon me that perhaps I should keep my visions to myself. I never complained about strange voices speaking unknown languages, nor did I mention seeing odd creatures ever again. But they never quite went away; they were all well documented in the boxes of filled journals collecting dust under my bed.

"Me-ghan!" Logan called out once more. "You'll be late again and Tulip won't want to take you to school anymore!"

Furrowing my brow and pushing the dark thoughts from my past aside, I returned my focus to more normal, everyday problems. I tried to tell if my hair was staying put. I had wet it and combed it out while I was in the bathroom, but it hadn't dried yet. Like I mentioned earlier, my hair was often at war with me. I liked to keep it long and if I treated it just right, I could get it to curl fetchingly and not frizz. Right now, I was happy with the waves that would form after it dried.

I climbed my spiral stairs and pushed the trapdoor open. I loved that the door to my room was set in the floor and opened up into a corner of our living room. A railing of sorts surrounded it so that my brothers couldn't sit on top and keep me trapped beneath. That didn't mean they'd given up trying, though.

I padded into the kitchen, carrying my shoes in one hand and my socks in another. I yawned, inhaling the smell of bacon, eggs and toast.

"Morning," my mom said, tossing her head so she could look at me over her shoulder.

She kept her dark hair short and at the moment she had a dish towel draped over her shoulder. I grinned. I towered over my mother. I was only an inch or two away from six feet, and my mom was nearly a foot shorter than me. Where my features were exaggerated, hers were proportionate and well placed. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that we weren't blood related.

My father sat at the table, reading the newspaper as my three year old twin brothers, Jack and Joey, sat in their high chairs, throwing scrambled eggs at each other.

"Peter, could you?" my mother said in exasperation, turning to gesture a spatula at the twins.

Folding the paper with a quick flick of his hands, my father sighed and began speaking to my younger brothers, who only giggled at his chastisement.

Logan was standing on the other side of the kitchen island, packing his own lunch. He was a picky eater, so he learned early on that having such high standards in this family was a curse. He fended for himself most of the time.

Bradley, who was two years younger than Logan and seven years older than the twins, looked most like my father with his sandy hair and blue eyes. At the moment he was tormenting Aiden, my fifth brother. I never let my brothers know I had a favorite among them, and in truth, I loved them all dearly. But Aiden held a special place in my heart. Maybe it was because, of all my brothers, he was the only one with dark hair like me. I know it was silly; after all, it's not like we shared the same genes for it or anything, but it made me feel more like part of the family I guess. Or maybe it was because my seven year old little brother was autistic. We were both set apart from everyone else in our own way.

I dropped my backpack near the front door and walked over to scoop Aiden up in my arms. With me holding him, Bradley would have to make a real effort to get to him and that would only draw Mom's attention. Scowling, Bradley made a face and skipped off to occupy his time elsewhere.

"Good morning Aiden," I said quietly.

He glanced up at me with his big blue-green eyes. My heart ached for him. He hardly ever spoke, but sometimes I could get him to talk to me. My brothers teased him for speaking gibberish, but I always understood what he meant to say. Sometimes you didn't need words in order to communicate with someone.

Setting Aiden down but keeping him close to me, I maneuvered my way around the kitchen and quickly packed a lunch. Somehow I managed to avoid Bradley and Logan as they played a game of keep away with a cinnamon roll before Dad diffused the situation by threatening to make them all stay home Friday night and watch some Halloween special on TV instead of going trick-or-treating.

Five minutes before seven, I was heading for the door, Aiden clinging to my leg the entire way. Mom rescued me and came to scoop him up, planting a kiss on my cheek before I escaped.

The autumn morning was cool and damp, a thick fog clinging to the treetops and making the world seem gray. I didn't mind. I liked the fog. Taking a lungful of air, I traipsed down the driveway and started walking up the street, hoping that perhaps this day would be different than all the rest.

-Two-

Vagrant

I slowly made my way down the street, knowing Tully would probably be outside waiting for me. By some stroke of fate, we both went to the same high school. Both our parents were of the mindset that the larger, public high school in town had too many gang problems and not enough resources for so many students, so they were more than willing to pay the extra money for our education. Mom taught at the public high school, so maybe she knew what she was talking about, but in my opinion they were merely paying for peace of mind. It didn't matter what high school you attended, there would always be someone there to make your experience borderline miserable.

I sighed and kicked a pinecone across the surface of the asphalt, watching it bounce off the curb and skitter into the middle of the road. I couldn't blame my mom for sending me to the private school, not really. After struggling through middle school and junior high, she knew that high school would be even worse for me. I didn't get bad grades; that wasn't it. Like I was saying before, I was odd, different from all the other kids and I always would be. I was tested for every childhood psychological disorder known to man, but I never quite fit the profile for any of them. I heard voices and I saw things, more often than the average child, and sometimes I would go into fits of shaking or screaming and I would get terrible headaches.

My parents tried everything: medication, therapy, a restricted diet. Nothing helped. In fact, they were so desperate that they nearly took me to see an exorcist. I had been eight at the time, and they had the whole appointment set up and everything. Before we went, however, someone suggested a child psychologist to my mother. She was located in Los Angeles, my city of origin, and something about her description must have convinced my parents because by now they had had their fair share of doctors.

I don't remember much about the woman, only that she had a kind smile and long blond hair. After a few visits with her the voices quieted. I no longer saw monsters under my bed and the headaches eventually went away. Yet I still hear voices whispering in the trees every now and again, whenever the wind picks up and their leaves and branches rustle together. But I learned after those sessions with Dr. Morgan that to carry on about my unique experiences often frightened those around me more than anything else. Now when I hear or see anything, I keep it to myself and this has worked for the past nine years.

The sharp caw of a crow jerked my thoughts from my past. I glanced up, only to find something that was way too large to be a crow watching me from a pine tree in a neighbor's yard. Maybe it was a raven but it almost seemed too big to even be a raven. But what else could it be? I shrugged and continued down the road.

Three houses later, I spotted the giant black bird again. Was it following me? I sped up, passing four more houses before I bothered to look over my shoulder. Yes, it was definitely following me. I swallowed and felt beads of sweat break out on my forehead. _Please don't let this be another delusion,_ I begged. The raven hopped to the top of a dead eucalyptus tree, arched its neck, and let out a strange, low garbling sound. It sent shivers down my arms. It turned its head to eye me once, then flapped its wings and disappeared into the foggy woods.

"Meghan!"

The sound of Tully's voice nearly made me scream. I looked up and smiled once my heart rate returned to normal.

Tulip Rose Gordon was my best friend and had been since her family moved into the blue, two-storey house that stood on the corner of our long, winding street only a year after my own family joined the neighborhood.

I took a deep breath and hurried over to give her a hug, already forgetting about the weird bird.

"So, how was your weekend?"

She made a face, her freckles getting bunched into the creases her frown created. Like almost everybody I knew, Tully was shorter than me and not nearly as thin. Where I'm tall and lanky, she is short and compact.

"I spent all Saturday trying to get through just a few chapters of that boring book Mrs. Swanson assigned, only to realize I had been procrastinating all day. So yesterday I had to make up for it."

I laughed. Tully wasn't a big fan of the classics, but she was determined to keep her grades up.

"I didn't do much either," I admitted.

For a few minutes we were quiet, standing on Tully's driveway and waiting for our friend Thomas to pick us up. He lived in Nipomo, east of our neighborhood on the outskirts of Arroyo Grande but still on the Mesa, a great tall, flat-topped stretch of land that took up several square miles of our part of the Central Coast. Thomas's mother ran a daycare out of her home so Thomas could usually borrow the family minivan several times during the week.

Tully and I decided to play a round of rock, paper, scissors while we waited. Finally, after defeating my friend for the fifth time in a row, the gold van came rolling around the corner.

"Sorry I'm late!" Thomas called from the driver's side window.

"You're not late," Tully piped up.

We climbed in and buckled our seat belts. The Lagarsos were a very traditional Mexican Catholic family, so the van was decked out with the usual memorabilia: Rosary beads hanging from the rear-view mirror and a postcard featuring the Our Lady of Guadalupe tucked into the visor. Thomas quickly pushed the preset button on the stereo and the faint, upbeat sound of Mariachi music was replaced by the newest teen sensation's latest song.

Tully and I rolled our eyes at one another, but our grins were wide. Thomas loved pop music but he was forbidden to listen to it at home. We laughed as he started singing along, and then against our better judgment, we joined in.

It was a whopping three to five minute drive to school from Tully's house. We took the few side streets that meandered through the expansive, wooded neighborhoods that branched out from our own neighborhood, and then pulled out onto the highway with the rest of the early morning commuters.

Black Lake High was situated directly off the highway in the middle of the great eucalyptus forest that covered much of the Mesa. On the other side of the highway the trees continued until they met up with the miles of dunes and farmland that comprised most of Arroyo Grande and the surrounding towns. The open space was only interrupted by the occasional farmhouse and of course the railroad tracks that were just on the other side of Highway One. There were other neighborhoods spread throughout the trees on the eastern side of the tracks, but the people who lived out here were even more scattered than my own neighbors.

Thomas chose a parking spot and turned the key in the ignition, cutting off some voice enhanced teen diva in mid-chorus. I zipped my sweatshirt up tight and arranged my backpack comfortably on my shoulders. School had never been my favorite place to be. I liked learning; I just didn't like being around other high school kids. They didn't get me, and they weren't mature enough yet to be polite about ignoring me. It was much more fun to point out my awkward height or make some comment about my unknown parentage. Luckily, I had my small group of friends who were just as odd as me. As long as we stuck together, I could bear it.

As we crossed the parking lot I spotted our two other friends, Robyn Dunbarre and Will Abukara. Robyn was decked out in her usual Goth attire: black cargo pants, a t-shirt featuring a pentagram and black eyeliner plied on thick enough to make her look like some heavy metal groupie. Will was a contradiction next to her, what with his neat outfit of khaki pants, polo shirt and thick glasses. He was a walking stereotype, and being half Japanese only added to his geek appeal. All he needed was a knit Argyle vest and an overbite. Luckily, he didn't have either.

"Hey, did you see the homeless guy this morning?" Robyn sauntered up to us, the neon pink stripe in her hair falling into her eyes. She brushed it back with a ring-encrusted hand.

"Is he back?" Thomas asked.

I looked past them to see the object of their discussion. A week or so ago, this tall old man just spontaneously showed up on the outskirts of our campus. He was dressed in an old army issued trench coat, tattered and stained from years of use. He had been shuffling around one of the trashcans just in front of the school's office building, muttering and grumbling to himself.

Everyone had stayed away from him, not sure what he was doing at a high school. Right away, some of our more obnoxious schoolmates had gifted him with a nickname. "Hobo Bob" had not resisted when the cops finally showed up, escorting him off campus and taking him to some unknown location. Two days later, he was back, this time perched on the weathered bench that stood on the sidewalk in front of the public bus stop.

The police were called again but by the time they arrived, he was gone. He had been making special appearances on and off ever since, never really coming onto campus but never moving on. I had no idea what he could want at our school. Most of us ignored him and I never even saw him approach someone asking for money.

"See for yourself," Robyn said, answering Thomas's earlier question.

We all glanced towards the far corner of the parking lot. He had on his usual trench coat, the hood pulled up to cover his head. The few glimpses of his face I had managed to catch had shown the weathered features of an old man facing hardship. He seemed to be staring right at us now. The prickly chill that ran over my skin proved my suspicion. I usually only got that feeling when I thought I was hearing or seeing things again. I ignored it and instead listened to my friends' conversation.

"Do you think he's looking at us?" Will wondered aloud.

Robyn crossed her arms and snorted. "If he's some crazy schizo that's escaped from the Men's Colony, I'll just have to cast a spell on him."

We all laughed.

"Can you actually do that?" Thomas asked. Sometimes I thought his conservative upbringing made him a little more nervous than the rest of us.

Robyn released a sigh and examined her black fingernails. "I've done it before."

Everyone was silent for a moment, but I only grinned. Despite coming from a very old-fashioned family, Robyn had somehow discovered Wiccan and Irish mythology our freshman year in high school. She went from being the perfect little goody-two-shoes to taking up her black garb and celebrating the pagan festivals of the ancient Celts. She always dragged us along to her little ceremonies, Thomas being the only one uncomfortable enough to feign illness whenever a solstice or equinox was coming up. I didn't know how her family dealt with it, but I think they blamed it on something that happened in Robyn's past. Like me, she had been adopted, but in her case I think it had something to do with extended family taking her in. Either way, we were both somewhat insecure about our identities.

The sound of the bell screaming over the din of car engines and chatting teenagers reminded us that, unfortunately, we did have to attend class that day. As we walked down the hallways, seeking our first classes of the day, I cast one more glance over my shoulder to see if Hobo Bob was still watching us. I didn't know if Robyn had secretly cast her spell or not, but the homeless man was nowhere in sight.

-Three-

Voices

The next day started out well. Thomas picked us up again and the morning proved to be promising. I didn't space out in pre-calculus, American history was actually rather interesting, and just before lunch I had my art class. I loved art, but only because I think our teacher was very much into letting us express ourselves. For someone like me, expressing myself in a non-verbal way, through art for example, helped soothe my psyche.

It was during the lunch hour that things started to go downhill.

"Out of the way homo!"

Like a rabbit that's heard the screech of an eagle, I jumped out of the way before I even saw Adam Peders. He wasn't addressing me, of course, but I could very well be his next target. Besides, I knew exactly who he _had_ been addressing, and that knowledge made me ill.

I glanced over at Thomas, who was standing in the middle of the lunch courtyard looking for me and our other friends. In my opinion, he looked very much like a tree about to topple over. Thomas was even taller than me and a bit on the heavy side, so he always stood out no matter where he was. And apparently he was walking a bit too slow for Adam.

"I said move you stupid fag," Adam repeated, giving Thomas a shove.

It felt as if someone had dug their fingernails into my skin. I _hated_ that word. And he had pushed Thomas.

Thomas was so stunned that it took him a while to recover before he could recede into the space between our lockers. Everyone who had been standing around him had stopped eating their lunches and talking to their friends. They all stared at Adam. He might have been the star track athlete and he may have looked like some offspring of the Greek gods, but he was a complete ass.

As he brushed by, Adam pounded his fist against the closest locker, forcing Thomas and a few others standing by to jump. I ground my teeth. I knew Thomas was gay. So did Tully, Robyn and Will, and probably the entire school as well. We never mentioned it or brought it up for a few reasons. First of all, Thomas would deny it, probably because he didn't realize it yet. Secondly, it would only give the popular crowd the evidence they needed to torment him even more. And finally, if Thomas ever went home and told his parents, he might just be kicked to the curb. Yes, talking about it would be suicide.

A few minutes passed before the lunchtime chatter picked up again and Adam Peders's insult was all but forgotten. I breathed a sigh of relief, glad it didn't escalate into anything else. But my anger lingered. I didn't care if Adam's dark brown hair was always perfect or that his pale green eyes exuded flawless self-confidence. I refused to be like Rachel Thompson or Sara Hobbes or any of the other hopeless girls who allowed Adam's good looks to cancel out his evil deeds. Besides, we had history, Adam and I. He was the first person at my high school to learn I was crazy.

In kindergarten, those many years ago, when I first came to live with the Elams, something happened that my therapists over the years couldn't make me forget. Not even Doctor Morgan. We were coming back from a fieldtrip, the pumpkin patch if I remember correctly. It was October and I remember because it had rained hard that week and we were all covered in mud. My teacher had been holding my hand, because I had told her I saw something frightening as we traipsed around the great orange gourds. Of course, I couldn't really describe it but she knew about my 'condition'; my parents had told her.

When we returned to school, the house directly across the street was having some small trees cut down. I wouldn't have noticed it at all, but I was still shaken up by whatever had freaked me out in the pumpkin patch and I guess you could say my senses were heightened. We were almost all off the bus when the shrill, soul-wrenching cries of someone in pain reached my ears. I remember freezing and trying to curl into a ball. It took a few more seconds to realize the screams came from across the street. Between the buzz of the chainsaw and the crack of falling branches, I could hear the trees crying out, sobbing in pain as they were slowly being murdered.

I was so upset that I wrenched my hand free of my teacher's, and sobbing, ran right across the street without stopping, screaming for the men to stop their chainsaws. I was nearly hit by a passing car. My teacher was in a panic, the entire school stopped to watch in horror, and the men with the chainsaws were so shocked at my claim that they were hurting the trees that they merely stood there, staring at me. Luckily they decided to take a break then, but I could still hear the whimpers of the two birches they had just taken down.

I remembered two things as my teacher cradled me against her chest while carrying me back to the schoolyard. First, knowing the echo of those distraught cries would haunt me forever, and second, seeing Adam Peders staring at me with the strangest look on his face. At the time, I didn't know what that look meant, but now that I'm older I have a little more perspective. It was disgust, and even a little bit of fear. Even at the age of five, Adam managed to find fault in others.

"Hey Meghan, coming to lunch with us?"

I jumped and turned to find Will staring at me, his glossy black hair a mess as usual and his dark eyes magnified by his glasses.

"Uh, yeah, just wanted to put some books away in my locker."

He shrugged and moved on. We all ate on the benches provided for us on the north end of campus. There was a nice lawn with several trees circling it just in front of the school, but that was reserved for the seniors. I sighed heavily as I located my locker, and then stuffed my books in. I looked forward to sitting amongst those trees next year. The memory of my recent recollection surfaced for a split-second, but I shoved it back down.

It didn't take me long to find my friends. We always sat at the same bench, the one furthest away from the popular kids. I took a place next to Thomas and placed a comforting hand on his back. He glanced over at me. I could tell he was still shaken up. I pulled my lips in and gave him a small nod. We all knew what it was like to be the object of ridicule, but it was never easy for any of us.

That afternoon, as school let out, I glanced out Thomas's van window and spotted Hobo Bob leaning against a large eucalyptus tree on the corner of campus. I blinked as we drove past, for I could have sworn that his unusually tall frame looked less bent than usual, but when I opened my eyes again he was stooped over, examining something on the ground.

I huffed out a breath and pushed it from my mind. What did it matter if the homeless guy had been standing up straighter? Maybe he had just been stretching his back. I turned my head and watched the other cars drift by in the opposite lane instead.

By two-thirty I was already in my room, pulling my homework out of my backpack. I switched on my stereo, flipping the knob over so that it would play the CD I had put in last night. I smiled when I heard the violins begin their lively dance. I enjoyed a wide variety of music but when I was working on anything important, the soundtrack I preferred was strictly instrumental.

Like any school afternoon, I was able to get a good forty-five minutes of peace before my brothers got home. Once Logan, Bradley and Aiden arrived any hope for decent early study time was over. If they got it in their minds to torment me, then I would have to wait until after dinner to finish. I was really hoping my parents would enroll them in some after school sports one of these days.

Not today, unfortunately. I heard them arrive with the subtlety of a truck hitting a building. I tried to ignore them, but soon my mom was calling me upstairs to help get dinner ready. I sighed and set my pencil down. I didn't feel like working on pre-calculus anyway. I turned my stereo off and climbed the stairs.

Dinner at the Elam house was quite the production, what with there being eight of us and three of those eight being picky eaters. Mom didn't put up with it, of course, but that didn't mean my brothers never tried to get out of eating broccoli or mushrooms. I couldn't blame them about the mushrooms though.

"Meg, could you peel the potatoes while I go get Jack and Joey?"

I nodded and took her place by the sink. The twins were just a block over at a home daycare center. My mom couldn't wait until they were old enough to go to preschool.

I scrubbed the potatoes and tried to block out Logan and Bradley arguing over whose turn it was to play whatever video game they were currently addicted to. They took this time with their video games very seriously and counted it as preciously as a pirate would count his gold. As soon as Mom got back from getting the twins, it would be time for homework.

I cleaned the potatoes, clouding up the water in the sink with dirt, and then fished the peeler out of a drawer. I looked down when I felt someone touching my leg. I smiled. Aiden was looking up at me with those blue eyes of his.

"Help?" he asked.

"Sure," I said, "do you know where the colander is? Big yellow bowl with lots of little holes shaped like lemons?"

He nodded and padded over to the other side of the kitchen, then pulled the drawer open with a little more force than necessary. After a few minutes of banging around, he returned with the colander, dragging it behind him the way a smaller child would tug along a teddy bear.

"Thanks buddy," I told him, placing a hand on his head.

He wrapped an arm around my leg and I just let him stay there. He found comfort in such displays of affection and I didn't mind knowing that at least one person on this earth wasn't afraid to be close to me.

Peeling potatoes was a tedious chore, so I distracted myself by glancing out the window above the sink every now and again. I could see the neighbor's house, a little higher up on the slope than ours. Behind their house, the hill tapered off into the trees that surrounded the swamp. It wasn't a real swamp, at least not like the kind you would see in Florida or in some bad horror movie. It was just a low spot in the land that remained wet and marshy throughout the year.

I turned my gaze onto those trees and a flash of movement caught my eye. I strained harder to see what it was. Something large and dark. It flickered in and out of view as it moved between the trees. After a while I could tell that it was some sort of bird. Finally, it landed on the branch of the nearest eucalyptus tree, then turned its head and looked right at me with dark red eyes. I was so surprised that I nicked my hand with the potato peeler. I said some sort of kid-friendly curse, and then looked down to find a stream of blood dripping along my finger and into the dirty water.

I quickly glanced up again, only to discover that the bird was still watching me. It was the raven, the same one I saw that morning, it had to be. But I didn't remember it having red eyes . . .

_Meghan . . ._

No way. I couldn't be hearing voices again.

_Meghan, you must come . . . it's been too long, we've missed you . . ._

I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. My hands clenched the edge of the sink. _No, no, no!_

_Meghan . . ._

_No!_

_Meghan!_

"Meghan?"

"Mom!" I said, looking around the kitchen as if I had just woken up from a bad dream.

"Honey, are you okay?"

There was a look of concern in her eyes. She got the twins settled in their high chairs and walked over to me. Her eyes widened when she saw my bleeding hand.

"Did you do that with the potato peeler?"

I nodded, then looked down and grimaced. The cut was pretty bad.

"I'll get you a bandage. Logan! Bradley! Turn those games off and come finish the potatoes for your sister!"

The boys groaned, but obeyed. I rinsed my blood down the sink as they made their way over. Mom returned with a box of bandages and some hydrogen peroxide.

"How did this happen?" she asked.

I wasn't about to tell her about the bird or the voices. Instead I shrugged. "I was daydreaming I guess."

She shook her head and clucked her tongue. After getting patched up, I got demoted to setting the table.

"Be careful with the butter knives," she said seriously.

I rolled my eyes but was careful to take her advice.

Dad got home ten minutes before dinner was ready and we all sat down and tried to eat like a normal family, but my father insisted on watching his favorite trivia game show and the twins proceeded to make a mess while Bradley and Logan argued over who was the better basketball player. Aiden and I remained relatively quiet while my mom shook her head in disapproval over all of it. And so, there it was, a typical evening in with the Elam family.

When the dishes were done, I escaped back to my room in the basement and tried to complete my homework in peace. The only problem was, now that I didn't have the distraction of my noisy family, I was thinking about the raven and the voices that whispered in my mind.

I shook my arms out as if they had fallen asleep and turned my classical music back on, setting the volume louder than before. Perhaps I could keep the voices at bay with a piano concerto. For some reason, I felt the need to stand in the middle of my room and stare at the sliding glass door, as if some invisible force was beckoning me to look outside. It was getting dark out, and all I could see was my tall, gangly reflection staring back at me. Fearing that the raven would return, I drew the blinds and plopped back down at my desk. I needed to focus and forget about the stupid bird.

It was ten o'clock by the time I finished my homework. I quickly brushed my teeth and washed my face, then made sure my alarm was set to wake me in the morning. I left my music on a loop, hoping that the soothing violins would not only lull me to sleep, but keep the disturbing events of the day at bay.

-Four-

Illusion

To my great relief, the next several days passed by with very little drama. Adam Peders and his gang only sneered at us twice more that week, the creepy homeless man seemed to have moved on, and best of all, I hadn't seen the raven or heard any strange voices whispering to me in the night. All in all, a great week. I was actually surprised I hadn't seen or heard anything odd after that eventful Monday, especially considering Friday was Halloween. Historically, my symptoms always got worse during the days leading up to my birthday, so I didn't know whether I should have been jumping for joy or terribly worried something awful was about to happen. To be safe, I walked around with my fingers crossed.

On Friday morning, I rose early and put on my costume. I loved that we were allowed to wear our costumes to school on Halloween. Tully and I had decided to be butterflies so I wore my black jeans, a black t-shirt and a pair of antennae that we had made ourselves. My wings were yellow and black striped like a swallowtail's while Tully's were orange and black like a monarch's.

"Me-ghan! Breakfast!" Logan bellowed from above.

I checked myself in the mirror one more time, then grabbed my backpack in one hand and my wings in another and headed upstairs. I took the stairs two at a time, reaching the door that led into our kitchen just as my brothers pulled it open. I stumbled onto the tiled floor, too stunned to take note of the Halloween decorations hanging from the ceiling or the jack-o'-lanterns grinning from the dining room table.

"Surprise!" everyone yelled.

I squealed in irritation as Logan and Bradley attacked me with orange and black silly string. Being twelve and ten year old boys, silly string was a staple in their collection of ammo. Picking the sticky mess from my hair, I scowled when I noticed the curls coming loose. So much for cooperative hair on my birthday.

"Logan, you totally set me up for that!"

My younger brother grinned and shrugged, his sandy blonde hair still messy from sleep.

I quickly forgave them because when I bothered to look around I noticed that everyone was up and that Mom had made me a special breakfast. Aiden ran up and gave me a hug and I returned the gesture.

"So, do you feel seventeen?" Dad asked me.

I shrugged. "I guess so."

Not only did I get French toast with raspberry syrup and whipped cream, but my parents insisted that I open my birthday presents as well. The boys had pooled together to get me a basket of my favorite candies, along with a birthday card they had made themselves. Mom and Dad got me the new jeans I had wanted for months and a few gift cards from my favorite stores.

I was grateful that Robyn was picking me up that morning, because I was running late with all of the fuss over my birthday.

"So, you are going to the dance tonight, right?" Mom asked nonchalantly as I packed my lunch.

I rolled my eyes. We had discussed this earlier that week. I really didn't want to go. I wasn't much of a dancer and it was really more for the preppy kids who thought high school was the apex of their lives. I really just wanted to hang out with my friends at someone's house and tell ghost stories or watch some slasher flick or something.

"Yeah Mom, but I'm not sure what we're doing afterwards."

"Just be careful honey," was all she said as she reached up and gave me a quick hug around the shoulders.

The sound of Robyn's beat-up compact car lurching to a stop at the foot of our driveway drew my attention away from my mom.

"Okay, see you guys later!" I called as I grabbed my stuff and headed out the door.

Tully was already in the front seat so I squeezed into the back. Like me, she didn't have her wings on yet. I glanced at Robyn. She didn't look much different than she normally did, only this time she wore a full black skirt and a black and silver bodice decorated with what looked like skulls. The lipstick she chose for today was a brilliant red color.

"What are you supposed to be, a gothic witch?"

Robyn snorted as she jammed the car in gear. "No, I'm the Morrigan."

I blinked. "The what?"

Robyn sighed. "Hello! The Celtic goddess of the dead?"

I arched a brow at Tully, who had turned around to look at me. She barely fought back a smile.

"Oh, duh. Of course," I answered with my own grin.

"So what's the plan for tonight?" Robyn asked, as if her sacred obsession with Celtic myth hadn't been scandalized by our ignorance.

I cringed. "My parents think I'm going to the dance."

To my great surprise, Robyn actually nodded. "We'll just go for an hour and watch the lemmings paw at each other, then we can ditch," she said with her usual indignant flare.

"What are we going to do afterwards then?" I wanted to know. "My mom thinks I'm going to be at the dance 'til ten."

Tully was good about checking in with her parents. It made me feel guilty. My own parents trusted me too easily. Of course, I never so much as faked being sick to stay home from school, but now that I was a teenager they ought to be a little more strict. Not that I would ever do anything too scandalous.

Robyn grinned. "Hello? All Hallows' Eve? We're going to go down into that swamp near your house and light a bonfire. Duh."

She glanced at me in the rearview mirror, the red glitter eye shadow she'd caked on reminding me a little of that raven.

I shivered and cast the demented bird from my thoughts and instead focused on what Robyn had just said. That's right; another pagan festival was upon us. I wondered if Will and Thomas would join us this time. During the last 'festival', Will had had an allergic reaction to Robyn's harvest cakes and Thomas had felt weird about the poem she'd recited.

"That sounds more interesting than the dance," I said, adding my two cents.

Sure Robyn's little 'pagan parties' were bizarre, but I couldn't say they weren't interesting. But first we had to endure the dance . . .

Ugh, I hated dances, at least at our high school. First of all, I couldn't dance, second of all, the music they always picked out was just noise to me, and last of all, I didn't need some freshman or sophomore boy pawing all over me and then bragging to his friends later about how he had hit it off with a junior. No thanks. I may be one of the outcasts, but that didn't make me immune to the truly desperate.

"I'm in too," Tully piped. "I'll just have to let my parents know."

Robyn laughed. "Now we just have to convince the boys."

During our lunch break later that day, we outlined our plans for the evening to Will and Thomas, including Robyn's idea of ending the night with a little Halloween fest down in the swamp.

"Sure, why not?" Will shrugged.

I returned to my lunch, not bothering to wait for Thomas' response. As far as I knew, his parents were comfortable with the idea of Halloween but not so much so with the origin of the traditions behind it. I knew he would come up with some excuse about taking his brothers and sister trick-or-treating. We all knew his family was uncomfortable with Robyn's beliefs and we didn't blame him. But he must have felt rude about turning down Robyn's invitations time and time again, because he always seemed to make such an effort to politely decline.

"Do we have to wear a special costume or something?"

I nearly choked on my yogurt. Both Tully and I looked at him with wide eyes. He merely shrugged off our reaction with a rather reserved look.

"What?" he said. "I'm tired of everyone pushing me around. I'm curious to see what Robyn is always going on about. I told my parents I was going to the dance and then to Will's afterward."

We were all slightly shocked. So much so that Robyn, instead of laughing out right and crowing on about her obsession with the ancient Celts, mumbled a submissive, "Well, your Halloween costume should be fine." She warily eyed his thrown-together zombie motif. "It's just a bonfire really, nothing too freaky."

For the first time in her life Robyn seemed humbled, but I kept staring at Thomas, waiting for him to fold under the pressure. But the determined look on his face never faltered. Deep down inside, I gave a little cheer. I was proud of him. Eventually I concluded that perhaps Adam's public insult the other day was the straw that finally broke the camel's back. Thomas was tired of being a doormat; to his peers and to his family. He was beginning to stand up to everyone and even though this was a small step that only we would witness, it was a giant leap for his self-confidence.

After I finished my lunch, I crumpled the paper sack into a ball and aimed for the closest recycling bin, and then I leaned back against the sycamore tree, glancing up into the few leaves that remained on its branches. We had bypassed the usual tables today, choosing to eat out on the field behind the school with the few other outcasts. Normally we could spend the lunch period in relative peace, but that wasn't always the case and today was no exception.

We were minding our own business on the far side of the track when Michaela West, dressed in her cheerleading outfit, left the lunch tables and came sauntering over. I ignored her at first, thinking she was just headed towards the garbage can to throw something away, but when she didn't veer to the left I started to worry.

Michaela was short and petite, with a perpetual scowl and fake eyebrows. She wore her auburn hair pulled back in a tight pony tail and had way too much makeup on. None of us were impressed with her costume. She just used Halloween as an excuse to hike up her skirt and add extra padding to her bra. Some pale foundation and two red dots drawn on her neck suggested she was trying to be some peppy version of a vampire's victim. She closed the last few feet between us and crossed her arms.

"What do you want?" Robyn asked with sarcasm.

"Just thought you girls would like to know about this list," she said, completely disregarding Thomas and Will.

She pulled out a piece of lined paper from a pocket and flipped it in front of us.

"It's been circulated around the entire school."

I gritted my teeth. I didn't want to know what was written on it. It could only be something demoralizing.

Unfortunately, Tully spoke before thinking it through. "What is it?"

"Oh, a list of the girls Adam and Josh would never date even if they underwent plastic surgery."

Robyn made a sound of outrage and Tully took a small step back. I merely glared at the awful girl.

"Oh, it gets better," Michaela piped, flicking her ponytail over her shoulder. "People voted on who would be most likely never to have a boyfriend, too." She paused and looked up at me, her eyes bright with malice. "Do you want to know who got the most votes?"

Before she could continue, Robyn pressed forward and told Michaela she could shove her list somewhere where the sun didn't shine and grabbed my arm to pull me away. I had no objections to this method of escape. Insults weren't my forte, which was surprising since I'd had them thrown at me for much of my life. Apparently I was the catch and release type; I never bothered to dwell too much on what was said to me. Now I wished I'd tucked some of them away to use in situations like this. Luckily, we had Robyn. She produced insults the way a rabbit produced offspring.

Michaela shouted something nasty at us but I didn't hear her. I was trying to forget about that note she held in her hands. I know it was stupid to be upset about it but I couldn't help it. I knew exactly who had been voted as the least likely ever to have a boyfriend, and I knew why. It was me, and the reason was because I was so very strange. No matter how hard I tried to blend in, some part of my weirdness always seemed to seep out.

"Forget them Meg!" Robyn hissed. "They are a bunch of girls with no self-esteem and no brain cells. What do they know?"

I nodded. Robyn was right, and today was Halloween. It was my seventeenth birthday and I wasn't going to let some stupid, fake cheerleader ruin it. We would go to the dance tonight just to make an appearance, then we would go off and have Robyn's bonfire. Yes, it meant I was that weird kid I didn't want to be, but at least I would be among friends.

* * *

After school, I turned down Robyn's offer of a ride home.

"Are you sure? You're not planning on taking out Michaela and her posse, are you?"

I snorted. "No, I just think a long walk would do me some good. I'm going to take the trail through the swamp."

It was the truth. I pretended not to care about Michaela and her stupid list, but deep down it hurt. I didn't want my friends to know about it though. They would only want to comfort me, and although I appreciated their concern, I wanted to shake the feeling off on my own.

The wind rustled through the tall eucalyptus trees and I was practically humming as I headed across the football field and track behind the school. I found the trail that cut through the trees and ended up on a back road that led into the swamp. From there it would be easy to find the horse path that ran behind my backyard.

It was a rather pretty afternoon, the sky clear blue and the sun warm. The weather usually stayed that way through late November. I drew in a deep breath, truly reveling in the smells of autumn. I couldn't tell you what it was about the fall that made me like it so much. Maybe it was the idea that the year was coming to an end and soon the cycle would start all over again. Maybe it was the smell of hay and the earthy colors that accompanied the harvest that appealed to me so much. Maybe it was because my birthday arrived on the cusp of fall. Whatever it was, I liked it.

After passing through the tall trees, I cut across a side trail that had been worn through the layers of leaf litter and stepped out onto a quiet street. I pulled my cell phone out of my backpack and popped in my headphones. I searched my music list, looking for something that would match my mood. I decided to go with some indie rock today. I twirled a strand of my dark hair with my index finger and kicked at acorns on the ground as I walked. My butterfly antennae bounced with the rhythm of the current song and the yellow in my wings caught the sun of the autumn afternoon, leaving splotches of color along the road.

It took me half an hour to come to the end of the road. I easily climbed over the barrier that stated motor vehicles weren't permitted any further and descended deeper into the small wilderness that rested behind my home. The thatch of willows up ahead told me that the water was near, but I wasn't too worried about mosquitoes or getting wet. I would be through quick enough and by this time of year any significant amount of standing water was all but gone.

It was while I was crossing the small bridge of land that stretched beneath the low canopy that I first noticed something strange. I had been so busy humming along to my music that I missed it at first. A flash of something dull green, then the jerking and swaying of the reeds and brush ahead of me forced me to stop and pull the headphones out of my ears. It was as if an army of gophers had suddenly decided to devour the shrubbery around me. I would've dismissed it as merely some small animals foraging for food, but there were just too many of them and now that I didn't have music blasting in my ears, I could hear them too.

My skin immediately began to crawl, the way it did when my mind started playing tricks on me. It almost sounded like laughter, maniacal laughter; like some demented puppet from a horror movie had been let loose in the swamp. I swallowed only to find my throat had gone dry. And then I saw one of them. The creature was small and warty like a toad, with beetle-black eyes and teeth that protruded from what I could only assume was a primitive mouth. Reddish, bedraggled hair fell from the top of its head and trailed down its back like a horse's mane. Another one pushed the first creature out of the way, this one a little more gray than green, its hair paler. If I were to name them, I'd say they were gnomes. But they couldn't be, because gnomes didn't exist and I wasn't living in some fairy tale. The past seventeen years of my life were proof to that.

I took a deep breath and started moving once more. It was really happening again. The voices, and now I was seeing things. I guess I hadn't kept my fingers crossed long enough. I wondered if I should tell my parents this time. But that meant more visits to the psychiatrist and more medication. I wasn't even sure if Dr. Morgan still had her practice.

A sudden squeal behind me made me jump. I shot a glance over my shoulder. From the thrashing of the reeds and splashing of water, I could tell some of the things had gotten into a fight. Then a few of them tumbled out onto the trail. Several more joined them a few moments later. They were all hideous, gray and green and brown with warts and those strange manes running down their backs. They were only a foot or so tall, but they had vicious looking claws at the ends of their fingers and toes, and they seemed to be strong for their size.

I guess I stood still for too long, because one turned and spotted me. It let out one of those shrill, fingernails-scraping-a-chalkboard cries and threw itself down the trail towards me. My heart leapt into my throat, but I turned and took off, running up the sandy trail that would take me home. I might have been tall and gangly, but thank goodness I was fast. I put some distance between us, my backpack thumping painfully against my spine, my delicate butterfly wings snagging against stray branches. I never looked back, just pushed harder despite the deep sand. And I had been worried about mosquitoes.

After a few minutes I finally made it to my house. I jumped off the trail and cut up the slope, pumping my legs hard to reach my backyard. I dug my hand into my backpack and fished out my house key. It seemed to take forever, but once I found it I jammed it into the keyhole of my sliding glass door and pulled the door open. As soon as I was in, I slammed it shut and locked it, leaning on my knees as I caught my breath. Eventually, I worked up the nerve to look out into our backyard, secretly wishing it didn't open out onto the woods surrounding the swamp.

There wasn't a single creature in sight. I was confused, for I had heard them right behind me, even to the point of stepping onto the flat expanse of my yard. A flood of relief washed over me then. As real as it all had seemed, I had been imagining them. Thank goodness.

Standing up straight, I took my hair down and walked into my bathroom. I looked like a mess. My face was all sweaty and dirty from the extra effort of running the last five minutes home, and I felt grungy. I decided on an early shower, hoping that the hot water would not only wash the dirt and sweat away, but would also cleanse away the images of those strange creatures from my mind as well.

The dance wasn't until eight, so as soon as I was clean, I was going to take a nice long nap and try to resettle my mind. I just hoped that my dreams wouldn't reflect what I had just been through.

-Five-

Samhain

I didn't dream during my nap, something I was very grateful for. If I had dreamed, I'm sure it would have been full of toady little creatures with sharp claws and black eyes.

I woke up to some Halloween themed song playing on my radio alarm. _Appropriate_ , I thought. I threw the covers back and dragged myself to my bathroom, casting a quick glance at my sliding glass door as I went. I breathed a sigh of relief. No little monsters staring at me from beyond the glass; no scratch marks running up and down the door.

After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I sought out my costume once again. This time, instead of black jeans and a t-shirt, I pulled out a black dress I had worn to a wedding once. It had spaghetti straps and the skirt started above my waistline and fell to just above my knees. It was a little more formal than my daytime attire and the color ensured that I could still be a butterfly for the dance. After applying more makeup than usual, I glanced up at the clock. I had an hour before the dance started, so I grabbed my bag with a change of comfortable clothes for our bonfire, then made my way upstairs to wait for Thomas. Since his parents were taking his siblings around their neighborhood in Nipomo to trick-or-treat, he got to use the van for the evening, and since it seated more than Robyn's car, he was to be our chauffeur to and from the dance.

I climbed my stairway only to step out into a living room alive with chaos. Apparently my brothers were taking their costumes a bit too seriously. Bradley, dressed as some grotesque species of alien, was chasing after Logan with a laser gun. Logan, who had the bright idea to be a cheeseburger this year, was trying, and failing, to get away. It was just too hard for him to be quick in such a bulky costume. Aiden, like me, had invented his own costume, a super hero of sorts complete with a green cape and a mask. His favorite color was green, and every year his costume had to include that color.

My mom was trying to get the twins settled. She was dressed as a witch. Real original, I know, but she claimed it was easiest, classic and matched her personality when at work. She and my father always dressed the twins to match. This year they were a pair of sock monkeys. I had to admit, they looked pretty good.

Dad wasn't dressed in a costume yet. He had just come home from his job at the local power plant, but if I knew my father, he had some surprise costume hidden away. He wouldn't dare reveal it until he was ready to take the boys out trick-or-treating.

"Oh, look at you Meg!" Mom cried out over the ruckus.

I shrugged and did a quick pirouette. I shouldn't have. That drew the attention of the alien, and soon I was the target of Bradley's wrath. Eventually, I managed to grab a quick bite to eat and get out the front door without being captured or mutilated. Suddenly remembering my strange ordeal from that afternoon, I peeked around the corner of our house towards the end of our street only a dozen feet away. No sign of creepy gnomes anywhere. I breathed a mental sigh of relief.

I walked to Tully's, my nerves frazzled the entire way. All throughout the neighborhood, parents were trailing after their costumed kids as they darted from door to door seeking candy. It was getting dark, but I could still see clearly enough to keep a check on the shrubs that lined the street. It wasn't the dark I was afraid of, but what might be hiding in it. _Meghan, it was just another figment of your imagination, remember? It wasn't real, so stop being so paranoid._ Oh if only I could believe what my conscience told me.

Thomas's van was waiting in the driveway when I arrived. He was wearing his zombie attire again, and Will had added some gel to his hair to get that sexy vampire look. I didn't have the heart to tell him that his glasses kind of cancelled out that effort. Tully had on a dress similar to mine, but the skirt and sleeves were longer. Robyn was already in the van, her dark Celtic goddess costume looking the same as it had at school earlier that day. Once we were all buckled up, Thomas popped in a Halloween mix CD and we all started singing like idiots. Robyn merely snorted and mumbled something about desecrating the Celtic New Year.

The school was abuzz with activity when we pulled into the parking lot. We piled out of the van and headed towards the gymnasium with everyone else. It was soon clear that some people had changed their minds about what to wear that night. Many of the costumes were far more disturbing than what I'd remembered from earlier that day, some just flat out lame. A few people had tried to be clever, dressing as a cereal box killer or their interpretation of an infomercial ad. I wasn't surprised to see most of the popular crowd wearing something I wouldn't wear in my backyard to get a tan.

Robyn snorted in their direction and said with no small amount of sarcasm, "Because freezing to death in a skimpy costume is _so_ attractive."

I nodded my agreement, my butterfly antennae bobbing with the movement.

The dance, just as I had thought, proved horrid. The music was too loud, the strobe light gave me a headache and if we weren't being ignored, we were being approached by the freshmen boys who hadn't yet learned that associating with us would ruin their reputations forever. We didn't even stay an hour. We quickly changed in the locker rooms and ended up leaving thirty minutes after we walked through the doors, sneaking past the teachers who tried to keep us corralled like a bunch of sheep heading off for the slaughter. I had no desire to be slaughtered that night.

We all piled into Thomas's van and took one of the back roads into the swamp. Thomas parked on the side of the dark street and we walked down into a small clearing beyond the barrier I had jumped earlier that day. Had it only been that afternoon when I'd been chased down by imaginary gnomes? Didn't feel like it. For several minutes I felt edgy, as if I expected those little goblin things to make an appearance again. But then I reminded myself I had only imagined them . . .

A fire pit, most likely built by the first teenagers who lived in this area eons before, was already in place on the far end of the clearing. As we gathered firewood I kept my eyes and ears sharp for anything unusual. We got a small fire started, and then we all looked up at Robyn expectantly. After all, this was her idea and we all expected some ritualistic words to be spoken or something. Not that any of us took this seriously. We were all just really interested in hanging out.

"Um, so I brought some information with me so you guys know what we are doing. Meghan, can you read it?"

Robyn handed me a piece of paper with interlinking runes as a border. It looked like she had found it on some website and had merely printed it out. I shrugged, curious as to why she just didn't read it herself, but took the paper anyway. I had to squint in order to read the words in the dim firelight.

Furrowing my brow, I cleared my throat and began: "Samhain: The Celtic New Year."

Well, that explained Robyn's grumbling on the way to the dance.

"It's pronounced _sow-when_ ," Robyn interjected.

I gave her a harsh look that I hoped said, _then why don't you read it?_ I bit my lip and looked back down at the paper. Sow-when; really? I shrugged. If Robyn said so . . .

" _Samhain:_ The Celtic New Year." I made sure to pronounce it properly that time.

I read the entire first paragraph, which detailed the traditions and history of the Celtic New Year. According to Robyn's print-out, the ancient Celts claimed that the dark half of the year started during the next few days and that the veil between the Otherworld and this world became more permeable to the creatures and spirits of a supernatural nature. It was actually quite interesting, to tell the truth, and it kind of reminded me of all the other mythologies I had learned about in school. Of course, the sentence about Otherworldly creatures lurking in our world sent a tingle of fear up my spine. That particular description was a little too familiar to me with regards to my tendency to see things.

Once I was finished reading my part, Robyn took her paper back and pulled out a book with a pentagram and some other strange symbols on the cover. I felt Thomas tense up next to me, so I placed a hand on his shoulder. Thankfully, Robyn had picked out a pretty mild passage, something along the lines of asking the Earth spirits to protect us from the evil ones this night. I sent up my own request that the rest of the week prove to be vision and voice free.

"One way to keep the evil spirits away is by carving gourds or pumpkins," Robyn said after finishing her Samhain blessing. "The Celts used to carve turnips."

"How do you carve a turnip?" Tully asked.

"With a really sharp knife I guess," Robyn shrugged.

"How do you even know all of this?" Will added.

Robyn lifted her shoulders again. "I saw something on TV once about it and decided to investigate. It's amazing what you can find while surfing the internet."

"So," I murmured, "do you have any turnips for us to carve?"

We all laughed, but Robyn shook her head. I had never seen a turnip bigger than my palm, so even if Robyn had wanted to carve turnips, I didn't think we could have made much progress. But I would probably have been the first one to start carving. Call me superstitious, but I wouldn't mind having a miniature jack-o'-lantern guarding my door for the next week or so.

Instead, she pulled a box of graham crackers, a bag of marshmallows and several bars of chocolate out of her bag.

"I don't have turnips, but I do have goodies."

Once we all had our own marshmallow roasting on the end of a stick, we started pestering Robyn for more information about Wicca and her other bizarre interests. Even Thomas took part.

I had never really taken Robyn's rebellious side seriously. She had a flare for the dramatic, so sometimes I wondered if her Goth look and pagan obsession was just a cry for attention, but it turned out she had done her research. Or so it seemed. I didn't really have anything to compare it with.

We ate several s'mores and after an hour of watching the fire die down, we decided it was best to head home. None of us was completely comfortable sitting in the middle of the woods with no one else around. We stamped out the fire and started heading back up to the car.

We walked in silence, perhaps all of us listening for the wandering spirits of Samhain. I thought about my family, probably still out trick-or-treating, if I knew my brothers well enough. Mom had likely opted to stay home to hand out candy and catch up on grading. When you taught English Literature to high school students, you had a lot of monotonous essays to peruse through.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice the rustling bushes until we came to the point where the dirt road met pavement. I froze and shushed my friends. They all turned and looked at me with raised eyebrows.

"What is it?" Will lisped through his fake vampire fangs.

I waved my arm at him and told him to be quiet. Several seconds passed and the bushes rustled again.

"Hear that?" I whispered harshly.

Everyone nodded. And then I heard something else. It was the same, strange grumbling I'd heard earlier that afternoon. I felt myself go pale and I looked at my friends. I wasn't imagining it this time. They had heard it too. Maybe I hadn't been seeing things after all.

"Let's get out of here!" Tully hissed.

We started to walk briskly up the slope, the van seeming miles away. The creature grumbled again and we all screamed and started to run. We made it to the van in record time, everyone piling in and not even worrying about seatbelts until Thomas had the car started and rolling back up the street.

"What do you think it was?" Thomas asked, his voice strained.

"The spirits of Samhain," Robyn said, a mystical certainty tainting her voice.

"Robyn! Seriously?" Tully gave her an exasperated look.

"I bet it was a raccoon. They make a weird noise when they get into fights," Will added.

When we all looked at him with raised eyebrows he shrugged. "What? They do."

As we came to the end of the road and pulled out onto the highway, I listened as my friends babbled on about what had disturbed our party. No one noticed I wasn't talking and no one perceived how unnerved I was. I had thought I'd imagined it, I was certain. But if all my friends had heard it too . . . ?

"I'm telling you," Robyn insisted stubbornly, her voice only slightly tinged with amusement, "it was the spirits of the dead from the Otherworld."

Everyone just laughed and Tully even gave her a shove. I was the only one who didn't laugh, because I felt strangely compelled to agree with her.

-Six-

Encounter

The next day was pretty laid back in the Elam household. All my brothers were recovering from their candy hangover from the night before and my parents were still in their pajamas at noon. I spent the morning cleaning my room and trying to get ahead on my homework. I hadn't had a party for my birthday the day before, but that night I was having Tully and Robyn over for a girls' night in.

My friends ended up staying late, during which time we gave each other pedicures and talked about which boys at our high school were the cutest. Too bad they never showed any interest towards us. Robyn surprised me when she fessed up to having a guy outside of our school.

"Seriously!" Tully said, smacking her with one of my pillows.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

Robyn shrugged and grinned sheepishly, a look that did battle with her dark eyeliner and lip ring. "It didn't start out as anything serious."

"And now?" I pressed.

"We have a date tomorrow night."

The movie we had been watching became nothing but background noise as we prodded Robyn for more information. I was happy for her, I really was. But something deep down, perhaps something instinctual, prickled with envy. I wondered if I would ever find anybody to make me feel as giddy as Robyn sounded.

Eventually the movie ended and our night came to a close. Tully and Robyn were gone by midnight and I went straight to bed. I remembered falling instantly to sleep and waking up on the dirty streets of Los Angeles. Wonderful. That annoying dream of my past again. It was essentially the same as always, but something was different this time. I looked down at my feet. Yup, they were still bare, but for some reason the distance from my eyes to my toes seemed greater. I held my hands out in front of me. Not a child's hands, but a young woman's. That was odd; I was always a toddler in this dream. At least I had my pajamas on this time.

Suddenly, without warning, the scenery changed and I was standing in my back yard. The moon was nearly full so its silver light cast long reaching shadows as it splintered through the silent trees.

I heard the near quiet huff of an exhaled breath and I glanced up from my self-examination. A great white dog was standing on the edge of my backyard, his ears perked forward and his black eyes watching me. He was as still as the night but somehow I knew he was beckoning me. I moved towards him and he turned and descended down the steep slope that led into the swamp below.

I knew I should have stayed put, but it was only a dream and I had absolutely no control of myself. I followed him without a second thought.

The leaves and branches crunched beneath my feet as I tried to keep up with the specter-like dog. Thank goodness he was so huge or else I might have lost him. Had it been a moonless night, he'd be easy to spot, but his pale color nearly blended in with the white pools of light.

He led me further along a trail, one I was familiar with; the same one where I was chased by a pack of warty gnomes just the day before. We walked for five or ten minutes, my spirit dog always staying twenty feet ahead and never looking back. Finally, the slowly descending trail ended and the dog took a sudden left, cutting across the small land bridge that split the lowest part of the bog. I followed him, eyeing the willows and oaks forming a dark, leafy bower overhead.

I ended up on the other side of the marsh, very close to the place where my friends and I had had our Samhain gathering the night before. A tall mix of eucalyptus and oak trees spread off to my right and the other section of the swamp continued far into the distance. Just off the main trail I spotted the small clearing where we had gathered. In the center of the clearing sat the dog, right where our bonfire had been, waiting silently for me to approach. I moved forward, my hand outstretched. Even sitting down, his shoulders came up to my waist.

Just as I placed my hand on his scraggly head, I woke up.

I was standing, in my nightgown, in the middle of the swamp behind my house. At first I was confused. Was this another part of my dream? But the sharp itch of a mosquito taking advantage of my bare arm brought me to my senses. I slapped the insect away, but my confusion was quickly being replaced by panic. Did I really sleepwalk from my room down into the swamp? I must have, how else could I have gotten here, barefoot, without a jacket, and standing upright no less?

I pulled my arms close to fight the chill and quickly darted my eyes from side to side. _There is nobody here,_ I told myself, _stay calm Meghan_. But it didn't help. I tried to tell myself that the moonlight was bright enough to light my way home, and that the only thing in the swamp that I should fear were the mosquitoes. Unfortunately, I had seen some weird things in this swamp during the last few days, and I had a feeling that it wouldn't be any better at night.

I took a tentative step forward and felt the sharp bite of a stick. Chewing my lip and cursing silently, I tried another, gentler step.

A low growling sound in the bushes behind me caught my attention. I stiffened and felt my blood freeze. It didn't sound like any dog I'd ever heard and I knew that we occasionally got black bears in the swamp. I tried hard to put that thought out of my mind. Unfortunately, in order to do that my memory decided right then and there to conjure up the images of the gnomes again. Would I be able to see them in the moonlight if they started coming after me?

The growling intensified and the snapping of twigs and rustle of leaves told me that there was more than one of whatever it was I was hearing. I cursed for real this time, something I rarely did. I glanced over my shoulder, back into the thick brush that lined the far edge of the wetlands. That was when I completely lost it. I knew animal eyes tended to glow orange or green if they were caught by your headlights or a flashlight, but only when the light hit them. Within the dark bushes I spotted several pairs of eyes, glowing continuously in the strangest shade of violet I had ever seen. I blinked to clear my eyes, hoping it was a result of my delirium from sleepwalking and the strange silvery light of the moon. I was wrong, as usual. There really were violet eyes staring back at me, at least five pairs.

Swallowing hard, I took a careful step backwards, seeking the soft, sandy trail that I had unconsciously followed down into the swamp. If I could only get back onto that path at least my bare feet would have a fighting chance. The animals noticed my movement and decided to leave their hiding places. Oh, how I wished the moon wasn't so bright.

The first one pushed its way past the undergrowth and stepped into the clearing. I tried desperately to convince myself I was still dreaming. I had to be; there was no way that what I was seeing was real. A monstrous beast, black in color and about the same size as the white dog I had followed here, stood crouched before me. The smell coming off it made my stomach turn, and that putrid odor mixed with the nervous fear that held tight to me made me nearly sick. It was horrible, as if the corpse of some giant wolf had decided to rise from the dead. From what I could see in the moonlight, great pieces of fur were missing and its muzzle looked almost skeletal. I would have given anything to have those little warty goblins back instead of these things.

The corpse dog snarled and released a long, mournful bay, a sound that made my already icy skin prickle with goose bumps. Two more monsters joined it from the brush, then two more after that. I was far too terrified to move and because of that they quickly had me surrounded, their violet eyes and rancid stench bringing me closer and closer to fainting. I fought it with all my might, knowing that if I did faint, these zombie wolves would most likely tear me to shreds.

I was trapped, terrified, praying that I was simply having a nightmare and that I would wake from it at any second. But the cold night air seeped into my skin and the gravel and twigs cut into my feet. The rotting stench of the corpse dogs assaulted me and the eerie silvery light of the moon only enhanced the hollows between their ribs; outlined the ridges of their spines. One of them opened its mouth and started panting, its throat glowing like a furnace, its breath pouring out in curls of black smoke.

I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around my body, even though I knew I should have been running or fighting. I waited for them to launch themselves at me, wondering what was holding them back as they snarled and growled and glared at me, always moving in a slow circle.

A second passed, then another. But I kept my eyes shut, muttering nonsense to myself and waiting to feel the dull pain of their teeth.

The time dragged on and suddenly there was another fierce howl, more alive than the dismal baying of the death hounds. My eyes flew open of their own volition and there, fifty feet away, stood the great white hound from my childhood dream. He threw his head back and howled again, then charged the mass of demons surrounding me. The dogs turned and faced the new threat, snapping and growling and crying in that bone-deep, mournful way they'd done just minutes before.

I gasped as two of them leapt forward, biting into the white dog as he slammed into them with full force. The three that still stood around me were distracted for the moment, so I took advantage and turned to run away, only to trip over a fallen log I hadn't seen before. I hit the ground hard, losing my breath and destroying any chance of escaping.

The corpse dogs not fighting with the white hound lunged. I threw up my arm to protect my face, my heart racing faster than ever before, and screamed. A great yelp cut through the air, followed by a crashing sound. Then another yelp followed, and another. I lowered my arm and sat up, then nearly fell back down in shock.

Someone was there in that clearing with me. Someone tall and wearing what looked like a hooded trench coat. As I sat in the dirt, my mind and my heart racing with everything that had happened that night, I watched my rescuer, hardly believing he was there. Where had he come from? Wasn't he worried the dogs would attack him?

The monsters rose up from wherever they had been thrown, growling and looking angrier than before. I realized that the man in the trench coat had somehow knocked them back. How he had managed to do so, I couldn't say. The dogs had to weigh well over a hundred pounds and the man didn't have so much as a stick to fend them off with. Turns out, I didn't have to wait much longer to learn about his methods.

One of the dogs lunged, the speed in which it did so impossible for any living thing to accomplish. I shouted some unintelligible warning, but apparently it wasn't necessary. The man was ready for the attack, and just as quickly as the dog had moved, he swung his arms around and grabbed it, throwing it so hard against a nearby sapling that the tree broke in half.

I blinked and felt my jaw go slack. There was no way any of this was real. True, none of my visions or delusions had ever been this realistic, but this simply could not be happening in reality. A dream, like I had told myself before, it was just a dream and all I had to do was wait for it to wear itself out and I would wake up, safe and sound in my own bed.

My superhuman savior quickly took care of the remaining dogs as I sat and played air hockey with my own conscience. But before I knew it the demon dogs were gone and I was sitting alone in the middle of a clearing with a stranger who could move like a comic book hero.

The silence seemed strange, after all of the growling and yowling that had filled the air earlier. The moon shone down just as brightly as before and a slight breeze rustled through the willows growing on the edge of the swamp. I was too frightened and astounded to move, and I had no idea what to say. The man stood fifteen feet from me, gazing off into the woods that spread out beyond the clearing. He didn't make a sound. It wasn't until I heard the soft panting behind me that I realized I had forgotten about the white hound who had led me here to begin with.

I turned to look at him, standing above me, his tongue lolling out. I had never really gotten a good look at him before, in those dreams I had where he acted as a guardian of sorts to my very young self. He was solid white, except for his ears. I couldn't tell their exact color in the moonlight, but my guess was that they were light brown or even rusty colored. Or maybe that was blood from the fight. Of course, upon further inspection, I saw no other dark marks on him.

The dog huffed out a breath and then lay down next to me. I wanted to pet him, let him know I was thankful for his help, but some movement out of the corner of my eye distracted me.

The man in the trench coat had pulled his eyes away from the trees and moved closer. I panicked, kicking at the ground in an attempt to scoot further away, but the dog kept me still, looking at me with curious eyes.

"Who-who are you?" I asked. My voice sounded weak and harsh.

The man didn't answer, but dropped into a sudden crouch, his elbows resting on his knees.

I squeaked and pulled away, afraid he might be one of the crazy people my mom had thought lived down here. What if he had a knife? What if he was a serial killer? All of a sudden, those zombie dogs didn't seem so frightening after all.

The man sat back on his feet, then hunched his shoulders over. His hood was still up and I couldn't see his face, but something in his stance was familiar.

"Hobo Bob?" I blurted.

I immediately cringed. I had never liked that nickname but that was the first inane thought that popped into my head, and honestly, I was a bit traumatized at the moment. I had just sleepwalked into the woods in the middle of the night only to be attacked by monsters. I think I was allowed a little slip of the brain for the next few hours. Or days.

"Sorry, I mean," I fumbled my words, worrying that I had offended the poor man. What was he doing here? Is this where he lived when he wasn't perched on the outskirts of the school campus? And furthermore, how on earth had he moved like that? The homeless man who had been hanging out around my school for the past few weeks was old and arthritic.

I was surprised when the man laughed. A light, easy sound that suggested youth. "Is that the title you have awarded me?"

I started in surprise. That wasn't the voice of a crazy old man. There was a strange accent to it, Irish or Scottish, and like his laughter, it was the voice of a much younger man. I tried to remember if I had ever heard Hobo Bob speak before, but I couldn't say for sure that I had.

And like the brilliant teenager that I was for the time being, my answer to him was a bland, "Huh?"

He laughed again, straightening up once more to his full height. I glanced up and gaped. He had to be close to six and a half feet tall, maybe taller.

"I often heard the spoken insults of the young people attending your school, but I never paid them much attention."

It was at that moment he decided to lower the hood of his coat. I felt my jaw drop again. Luckily, he was glancing off to the side, so he didn't notice my sudden gawking stupor. From what light the full moon provided, I could gather that my rescuer was a very good looking young man and all the names of the boys Tully, Robyn and I had listed off earlier that night seemed like ugly ducklings in comparison. His hair was dark and his face well-sculpted. I couldn't see the color of his eyes, but I could tell that they were dark, calculating even as he considered a stray stone on the ground beside his foot.

The light wind from earlier picked up once again and my body felt suddenly chilly. I looked down, only to discover that my night gown was hiked practically up to my waist, showing off my pink, polka-dot underwear. Flushing with embarrassment, I quickly pulled it down and wrapped my arms around my torso once again. I suddenly felt very vulnerable.

My movements caught the young man's attention and he glanced back at me. His sudden gaze made me blush even more. I hoped he couldn't see my red face in the moonlight.

"Forgive me," he said in a serious tone, "you must be very cold."

Before I could so much as blink, he had unbuttoned his trench coat and had thrown it over my shoulders, pulling it closed in front of me. His touch was light and careful, the opposite of what I had seen him do with those dogs. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, I tried to study him a bit more now that he was closer, but all I could make out in the moonlight was what he was wearing: jeans, a designer t-shirt, and what looked like utility boots, the kind my dad often wore to work, the ones with steel toes.

After draping his coat over me, he backed away. I caught a glimpse of something metallic around his neck, but it was only a glimpse. I had no idea what it might be. For a while, I simply breathed and enjoyed the warmth of his coat. It smelled strange, not in a bad way, but like something vaguely familiar that I hadn't smelled in years. I read somewhere once that scent was one of the strongest senses in recalling memory, but for now I couldn't place those memories. I only wrinkled my nose, thinking of these woods after a rainstorm.

At some point in time I managed to find my voice again. Clearing my throat, I said, "What were those things, those dogs?"

The young man grimaced and glanced off into the trees again. "Cumorrig," he answered, "hounds of the Morrigan."

"What?" The Morrigan? Like the Celtic goddess Robyn had dressed as for Halloween?

He ignored my question. "Most modern day folklorists would call them hellhounds."

"Hellhounds?" I'd heard of those before. In one of my literature classes last year we had read some stories of mythology. I vaguely remembered a mention of hellhounds but I couldn't describe them. Guess I didn't really need to anymore.

I looked back up at the tall stranger, and feeling one of us needed to say something, I took a breath and said, "Thank you for helping me, and I am very grateful, but who exactly are you?"

He smiled, forcing the corners of his eyes to crinkle. I had to look away. Why couldn't the boys at school be this attractive? It might make their taunts more bearable.

"You were right in guessing who I was earlier," he said, standing up once again.

I had to crane my neck to keep an eye on his face. Even though he had the charm of a well-versed movie star, there was no way I was going to trust him. To wake up from a dream and find myself in the middle of the forest, surrounded by the living corpses of dogs, then to have him appear out of nowhere and chase them off with superhuman speed? Yeah, that was normal. Right.

He took a deep breath then ran both hands through his thick hair. I watched him carefully, not sure what his next move would be.

"Meghan, I'm afraid we've met under unsavory circumstances."

He glanced down at me with those dark eyes. "Our first meeting wasn't supposed to go this way. Those hounds," he paused and grimaced, "let's just say it was my job to take care of them earlier, and they slipped past me."

I blinked, feeling myself return to my previous stupor. What was he talking about? He knew about those horrible dogs? It was his job to take care of them? What did that mean? And most importantly, how did he know my name?

I felt ill, as if I were going to throw up. I tried to stand, letting the trench coat slip off of me. All of a sudden it felt like a net meant to trap me like a bird.

"Meghan," he said, reaching out.

But I cringed away from him, and offered him his coat with a shaky hand.

"Thank you again, but I really should get back home."

"Not on your own Meghan, not with those hounds still lurking around these trees somewhere."

His voice had deepened and that only made my stomach churn more.

"Please," I whispered, feeling the first prickle of tears at the corners of my eyes, "please, I just want to get home."

Suddenly he stiffened and his gaze intensified. "You are afraid of me."

It was a statement, not a question. I knew I was doomed then. Wasn't it true that if a victim revealed to her attacker just how terrified she was, then she had already lost the game? Sure, he had chased off those dogs, but maybe only to keep me whole so he could take me off to some bomb shelter somewhere to torture me slowly. I shivered both from the return of the autumn cold and from the knowledge that I was completely at his mercy at this point.

The man merely sighed deeply and said, "I fouled this up completely, but I'll make it up to you somehow. Right now, however, I think it is best if you forget most of this."

He held up his right arm, palm out, as if he was planning to hit me with some kung fu move.

"What are you doing?" The panic in my voice matched the racing of my heart.

"Tomorrow, this will seem like a dream, but in a week's time I will send Fergus to you. Follow him, and I will introduce myself properly, at a more reasonable time of day. Then I'll explain everything."

I stared at his hand as he moved closer, wondering if I should try and fight him off if he reached for me. My mind seemed to grow fuzzy, my vision blurred.

Just before I passed out, I managed a barely audible, "Who are you?"

"You can call me Cade, but you won't remember this, so it doesn't matter."

And then I was swallowed by darkness.

-Seven-

Evidence

Sunday morning brought with it a pounding headache and the restless feeling of leaving a bad dream behind. I blinked around my room as soon as I woke up. Everything was in its place; my old TV with the crack in the corner of the screen, my neon purple lava lamp, my posters featuring the paintings of various artists and musicians I liked. And the old desk my mother and I had found while browsing a local thrift shop, the top, as usual, littered with the contents of my backpack.

The sun was streaming in through the sliding glass door, reflecting off of the small droplets of dew sprinkled over the lawn. For once it wasn't a foggy morning. Despite the normalcy of the day, something didn't feel right, as if my mind were trying to recall the dream I'd had last night. That wasn't unusual for me, but something didn't add up in my mind.

I turned my head to the side, slowly so the headache wouldn't escalate. A large blue and white speckled bowl holding the remains of a few bags of popcorn sat on the floor, next to several other dishes containing a variety of candy. Just the leftovers of a typical night of overdosing on junk food and scary movies. Nothing out of the ordinary really.

After struggling with the strange, uneasy feeling for several more seconds, I gave up. It was pointless to try and remember a dream that wished to stay hidden. It would come to me eventually, as all my dreams did.

I got myself ready for the day, flipping my radio on to the local classic rock station and slipping into my bathroom to brush my hair and wash my face.

I was halfway through my routine before I noticed the scrapes and cuts. I stopped and glanced at the scratches down my arms. In the mirror, my eyes peered back at me, looking more green than hazel just then. As usual, I wondered why. They weren't like a mood ring where each color corresponds with what mood you're in. Blue means relaxed, red means excited . . . Nope, mine just change color as my moods do, or even when I'm not aware my mood has changed. More likely than not, the change in color triggered my response.

I decided that my current mood was a mixture of curiosity and dread. How did I get those scrapes? I thought back to the week before, and then it dawned upon me. I had gotten into a confrontation with Michaela on the field behind school. On Halloween. On my birthday. She had wanted to show me a list. I had tried to get away from her. Only problem was, I hadn't noticed the chain that acted as a fence separating the track from the football field. I had walked right into it and fallen over, my books sprawling everywhere. I had obviously used my hands and arms to break my fall.

I rubbed the scrapes now, my face reddening from the memory. But there was something odd about it, as if it were a memory from several years ago and not a few days. An old memory.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to forget about the incident. I really hated Michaela and I made a special point not to hate anyone. But that mantra was kind of hard to stick to when you had people like Adam Peders, Josh Turner, Michaela West and all their shallow friends to deal with. They had been making my life a living hell since my first day at school when we were freshmen. And in Adam's case, even before then.

A noise grabbed my attention and I turned to find Aiden standing in the doorway of my bathroom, gazing up at me with those bright blue eyes of his. He startled me but I relaxed when I realized it was him. My brothers were always trying to break into my room, but they were always too noisy to be successful. Aiden was the only one I never heard climb down the stairs.

"Aiden? What are you doing down here?"

"Cartoo," was all he said.

I smiled. The medication for his autism seemed to be helping, but he still had a hard time communicating. For some reason, he had fixated on me as the most important person in his life and there was no way I was going to let him down.

"Alright buddy, is no one awake upstairs?"

He didn't answer. Sometimes he'd go a whole day without saying anything to us. I was used to it though. I carried him back upstairs and plopped him down onto the great stuffed couch in our living room and fished the remote out from between the cushions. I tried to convince myself that the sticky residue gluing my fingers together wasn't something the twins might have dropped in there the week before.

I surfed around until I found the station playing Aiden's favorite cartoon. His eyes lit up and he was hooked. When I thought it was safe to return to my room, I dropped a kiss on the top of his head and crossed back to the spiral staircase leading downstairs, passing Logan and Bradley on the way.

"Don't change the channel. Aiden wants to watch cartoons," I called over my shoulder to them.

They zipped past me, still dressed in their pajamas, their blond hair tousled and their eyes still droopy.

"What else is new?" Logan piped.

Luckily, his tone was cheerful and not spiteful. It was hard having Aiden in our family, especially since everyone else was so normal. Well, everyone but me of course. I think my brothers were pretty well adjusted, though. I glanced once more over the kitchen counter to find Logan and Bradley on either side of Aiden, all three of them singing the theme song to the cartoon at the top of their lungs.

I smiled widely, knowing that it wouldn't be long until my parents and the twins were up.

I descended my staircase to the sound of an electric guitar solo blaring from my stereo. I glanced at the clock. Just after eight. Why had I woken up so early on a Sunday morning? Oh yeah, the unremarkable dream that wouldn't leave me alone.

Sighing, I found a pair of semi-clean jeans among the pile of clothes on my floor. I grabbed an old t-shirt from my drawer and pulled that over my head. I promised Tully last week that I would help her with her English paper, but only if she would help me with science. We had a system, Tully and I. She helped me with my trouble subjects and I helped her. You see, I was a dreamer, head in the clouds, big imagination. I had an 'analyze poetry' type of personality. Tully was very scientifically minded; thought mostly in black and white. Of course, we both appreciated each other's talents, but I probably couldn't tell the difference between a DNA sequence and the number of chromosomes I had if my life depended on it.

By the time I made it back upstairs with my backpack and my books, the rest of my family had joined the fray on the couch.

"Where are you going so early?" Mom asked, a towel thrown over her shoulder as she mixed pancake batter in a bowl.

"Tully's," I said, grabbing an apple and a muffin. "Science test on Tuesday and English paper due Thursday."

My mom merely raised her eyebrows and nodded. She knew our system as well.

"Hey Dad," I said as I walked past his favorite recliner. How he could read his magazine while the boys watched unrealistic cartoon characters bash each other to bits was beyond me.

"Mornin' Meggy," he answered, his eyes never leaving the story he was reading.

I glanced at the article on my way to the front door. It was an exclusive on Stonehenge. My dad had a penchant for scientific and archaeological magazines.

"Well, see you around lunch time I guess," I said as I pulled the door open.

As the front door snapped closed, shutting off the sound of arguing boys and the clang of Mom moving dishes around in the kitchen, I threw my head back and took in a deep breath. The sickle-shaped, silvery leaves of the eucalyptus trees rustled in the breeze. For a minute, I thought I heard voices again: _dreams, full moon, memory . . ._ they seemed to whisper.

I shivered, despite the warm autumn morning. That was the thing about the Central Coast; our best weather was in the fall. Sure, we had our fair share of foggy mornings, but on many occasions I had even walked on the beach in shorts and a tank top as late in the season as Christmas Day.

A heftier gust of wind pushed through the branches above my head, parting them like a curtain, and just as quickly as I thought I'd heard them, the voices were gone. Shaking off the weird chill and pushing the voices to the back of my mind, I hiked my backpack further up my shoulder and made my way down the road. I passed our neighbors' houses, their sprawling front lawns either enjoying a shower of morning sprinklers or lazing in the shadow of the tall shade trees. I loved our street.

I rounded the final curve in the road and headed towards the blue, tidy two-storey house on the corner. Bypassing the front door, I stepped right out onto the front lawn, shading my eyes against the sun as I glanced up at Tully's window. I smiled to myself, and then took out the tennis ball I kept in my backpack for just this purpose. I wound back my arm, took aim, and launched the neon green ball right through her open window. Less than a minute later, the tennis ball came whizzing back at me. I caught it and stowed it back in my backpack just as Tully poked her blond head through the window.

"I'll let you in through the back," she said as loudly as she dared, "Mom and Dad are still in bed and they want to sleep in."

Both her parents were professors at the local college. On Saturday nights they often ventured into San Luis Obispo to have a night on the town. Tully had once said that they were in denial about growing old. Of course, the fact that they had to sleep in until noon the next day did more to point out their advanced age than going to bars did to enhance their formative years.

Once Tully unlocked the door and led me upstairs, we started pulling out our books and notes. We chatted a little bit about the latest school gossip, but neither of us decided anything was all that new or important. Besides, we weren't privy to the good gossip anyway. Yet it still baffled me that for a high school consisting of just under six hundred students, we sure had a lot of drama that took place.

Sighing, I grabbed my notes on the latest English tragedy novella we were reading in our literature class and made myself comfortable as Tully grabbed her desk chair and moved it closer to me.

Only after I sat down on Tully's bed did it occur to me just how tired I was. I tended to be an early riser, so it wasn't like my schedule was any different than usual. But today I felt as if I'd joined Mr. and Mrs. Gordon on their club fest last night.

"Meg, what happened to your arms?" Tully asked, grabbing my hands and pulling my arms out to examine them.

"Oh," I said as I blinked away my sudden weariness, "the thing that happened with Michaela the other day, remember? When I tripped over the guard chain?"

Tully gave me a look. I knew that look. It was the same look I always got from other adults right before my parents decided it was time to take me to a new psychiatrist.

"You didn't trip over anything."

"Yes, I did, you were there, remember?" Why did I always have to be the crazy one? "She wanted to show me the list of girls Adam Peders would never date in a million years? She hinted that you were on the list as well, or don't you remember that either?"

I was suddenly angry for some reason and it wasn't even at the insult the list had caused. I was angry because I suspected Tully was right. The argument had been real, I know that for a fact, but something about tripping over the chain wasn't quite right. Yes, it surfaced along with the memory of Michaela's pinched face but it seemed misplaced, contrived even. Like when you were a toddler and you were trying to figure out how to piece together a jigsaw puzzle for the first time in your life. Although the pieces don't quite fit, you tried to force them together anyway.

Tully glanced up at me with her clear green eyes. I normally towered over her, but at that moment she made me feel as small as my twin brothers.

"I remember you tripping over a chain fence," she whispered, "but that was in third grade when Marissa Campos told us she knew how to make our freckles multiply."

Both of us released a laugh at the memory, and the tension that had been building up melted a little bit.

"I, I'm sorry Tully," I whispered, hiding my arms and the scratches covering them from her view. "Do you promise not to freak out if I tell you the truth?"

Tully raised her right hand and crossed her heart with her index finger.

"I don't know how I got these scrapes." I held my arms out in front of me again, as if looking at them would give me the answer.

"How can you not remember?" Tully insisted. "They look pretty new. Are there any others, I mean, not just on your arms?"

"Yeah, my knees actually, and I feel like I'm going to be finding bruises all over the place in a day or two."

"Did you fall down yesterday, maybe playing basketball with your brothers?" Tully asked.

I actually considered it, and to tell the truth, I couldn't remember much of what _had_ happened yesterday, not much at all. When I told Tully this she furrowed her brow and sighed. "It's like someone has erased your memory."

As if Tully's words were the snap of a hypnotist's fingers, part of my dream from the night before surfaced in my mind. An image of a white dog and trees standing stark against the light of the near-full moon flashed across my vision. Unfortunately, it was gone before I could get a good hold of it.

I sighed again.

"Maybe you hit your head when you got hurt, and are suffering from amnesia."

I shrugged, then suggested we drop the subject altogether and focus on our homework. Tully readily agreed with me. I think deep down we were both a little rattled by the whole thing, and right then and there I had no answers to offer.

When I got home later that day, I decided I needed a nap. Mom thought I might be getting sick, but I just waved her off and said that studying for science often made me brain dead for an hour or two anyway. As I crossed the living room I saw Dad's magazine sitting askew atop the coffee table. A familiar image of Stonehenge dominated the cover and for some strange reason I recalled noticing that before, when I had left that morning.

A terrifying image shot through my mind then, of a dark forest scene crowded with the rotting corpses of dogs, a moonlit meadow and something else I couldn't quite see . . . I gasped, the burning image of glowing, violet eyes piercing my skull.

My mom was at my side before I completely lost my composure.

"Meghan! Meghan, what's wrong?"

"I'm okay Mom," I mumbled as I clutched my head. It didn't really hurt, my head, but the sudden return of details from what must have been my dream from the night before had shocked me that much.

"What's the matter?" she pressed, using her petit frame to keep me on my feet.

I thought lying was the best choice in this situation. "Headache," I grumbled.

I had had migraines when I was younger, in the years after they found me in Los Angeles, and a few since then, so it wasn't a complete impossibility. In order to add to the act, I pressed my arm against my forehead. Too bad I had forgotten about the scrapes.

"Meghan! What did you do to your arms?"

"Uhh," I answered dully, "tripped in P.E. on Thursday. We were playing softball."

The grumbling sound next to my ear told me that she chose to believe my story, for the time being at least. She helped me down the spiral staircase that descended into my room.

"You'll kill yourself climbing down if I don't help you," she insisted.

Once downstairs, I sat on the edge of my bed and told her I could take it from there. She stayed for a bit longer, closing the blinds that hung from my sliding glass door while making comments under her breath about my messy room and its likely contribution to my headache. Mom liked things immaculate.

Finally she left, but only after I feigned lying down and going to sleep. I listened to her footfalls as she climbed the carpeted steps, but even after she had closed the door behind her, I stayed in bed, my forearm over my forehead and my eyes glued to the glowing stars stuck to the ceiling.

Only after my breathing evened out and I no longer felt the waves of terror flooding over me, did I allow my thoughts to wander back to my nightmare from the night before, and most likely, the reason for my current state of scraped skin and exhaustion.

-Eight-

Familiar

Of course, no answers ever came to me and after an hour of agonizing reflection, I came to the conclusion that I had simply had a nightmare the evening before and that my scrapes and bruises had been a result of a violent case of sleepwalking. Though my room remained fully intact, I knew there was no other explanation.

Despite the fact that there were still bits and pieces of my dream missing, I felt somewhat satisfied with my conclusion. After all, it wasn't like I had never forgotten a dream I'd had before.

I joined my family for dinner, putting on my freshest face and brushing aside any concerns they voiced aloud. Of course, my mother was the only one to display any true worry. The boys had no idea I had almost fainted (they had been at the grocery story with my dad when I had first come home from Tully's). Dad had merely given me his customary once over. As long as we had all our limbs and weren't hemorrhaging from the head, there was absolutely nothing wrong with us.

After dinner we huddled down to watch TV before Mom and Dad started getting the twins and Aiden ready for bed. They all complained when the time arrived, but somehow my parents managed. Logan and Bradley soon followed, grumbling about how late it wasn't and how they weren't even tired as they yawned and rubbed their eyes. I grinned, finding something amusing in their simple, childhood woes.

Yawning, I called a goodnight to my parents. I had school in the morning, hurrah, and a test early in the week. It would do me no good to start the week out cranky and tired. I clambered down my spiral staircase, half eager for the warmth of my bed, half afraid of what would happen once I fell asleep.

The visions and voices and nightmares were returning, I could deny it no longer, but I wasn't sure I could deal with it again. I couldn't go back into therapy and the medication I had taken when I was younger had made me feel nauseous all the time. And the truth of it was, it never really helped. I only pretended that it did so they wouldn't give me more of the awful medicine. Like before, I would just have to find a way to ignore my visions. If I was lucky, in a week or two everything would go back to normal once again. I pulled on my pajamas and curled into bed, counting imaginary pink and yellow butterflies visiting white flowers as I tried to keep my frightening memories at bay.

* * *

Monday morning was a riot in our house, as usual. I packed a lunch and grabbed my backpack, squeezing out the front door right before Jack and Joey started throwing cereal at one another. The morning was foggy once again, that nice thick fog that rolled in from the Pacific Ocean and nestled itself in the lower areas of the coast.

I strolled along the side of the road, making my way down to Tully's. A group of middle school kids waited for their bus on the corner of the street. Today they stood huddled around the street sign, the older kids trying to look cool while the little kids picked up acorns and launched them at one another.

As I watched, something caught the corner of my eye. I turned and glimpsed the dark sweep of a bird's wing disappearing into the redwood that stood behind the wide stone barrier wall that denoted our neighborhood. I stared at the spot where the wing had disappeared, thinking it was just a crow. As I watched, however, the bird edged closer to a gap between the drooping branches.

I sucked in a breath. The thing was huge, nearly as big as an eagle, and it stared, no, _glared_ right at me. Not for the first time that week, an icy chill prickled up my spine. _No freaking way_. It was the raven from last week. I knew it without a doubt. Unless, of course, there happened to be huge ravens lurking about our area lately, and I highly doubted that. I cast another wary glance at the bird. It appeared to be thinking, calculating, deciding whether or not it wished to eat my eyes or my liver first.

"Meghan!"

I nearly screamed. Instead, I jumped and let out a pitiful noise that sounded closer to a Chihuahua yelping. All the kids at the bus stop turned and looked at me. Most of them started to laugh and point.

Feeling my cheeks turn pink, I turned towards Tully, who also had a big grin on her face.

"Get out much in this wide world?" she teased.

I grumbled at her and marched to her driveway where her mom's car waited. She had the flu or something, so Tully was allowed to drive the car to school. Despite our advanced ages, we still didn't have our own cars. Vehicles were necessary in a rural town, but they were also expensive. I understood that. My parents weren't destitute by any means, but having all us kids took a toll on their finances. Luckily, I had friends to bum rides off of.

I threw my backpack into the back seat of the silver station wagon with Tully's and we climbed in. As we pulled up to the stop sign, I looked back up into the redwood tree. I told myself it was to avoid eye contact with the kids I had embarrassed myself in front of, but I really wanted to know if the raven was still there. To my great relief, or perhaps disappointment (I honestly couldn't say which), the unnerving bird was gone.

_Just another hallucination,_ I told myself as the car chugged along, _just another figment of your imagination._

When we pulled into the high school parking lot five minutes later, I found myself scanning the edge of our campus.

I had no idea I was doing it until Tully asked, "Whatcha looking for?"

"Nothing," I said automatically, leaning back into the seat and basking in the warmth of the car's heater for a bit longer. The day would warm up, once the fog wore off, but at the moment it was cold and damp.

I sighed and glanced back out the window. What _had_ I been looking for? As we found a place to park, I reached into the back of the seat and grabbed my backpack. Through the rear window I could see the bench where the local public bus stopped. I froze, my hand clutching the strap of my backpack to the point where my knuckles turned white. It was then that I became aware of what I had been searching for. The homeless man was back, sitting hunched over on the bench as if he were asleep.

Why in the world had I wanted to find him? An image of a tall man dressed in a hooded trench coat flashed before my eyes. I felt my face drain of color and my palms go clammy.

"Hey Meghan, you don't look so good. You're not feeling sick are you?" Tully asked.

I swallowed, only to find my mouth had gone dry as well. "I'm fine," I managed, sounding somewhat normal.

Tully shrugged and smoothed out her skirt and pulled up her neon-striped leggings. Most people would call her sense of style flashy or a bad reproduction of the Eighties, but I couldn't imagine any other style that would reflect her personality so well.

"Hey girls, what's up?" Robyn called from across the parking lot.

The majority of the student body made way for her. Considering they all dressed and acted like they lived inside some high end fashion catalog, I was never surprised when they got out of Robyn's way. I grinned.

Just then, the bell rang, signaling the start of school. We all grimaced.

"Well, time to get another Monday underway!" Robyn proclaimed.

Unfortunately, I didn't share her enthusiasm.

* * *

I managed to survive the week without encountering too many misfortunes. My science test wasn't a complete disaster and the people in my geography group were the types who strove for good grades.

On Friday, Robyn gave Tully and I a ride home, so after my last class I gathered my books from my locker and headed out to the parking lot. We piled into her old car just before the lemmings poured out of the hallways. I always smirked when I thought of that nickname for the popular crowd and their followers. Robyn had thought of it, of course.

"They're like lemmings! They would all follow each other off of a cliff if that was the cool thing to do. Completely mindless," she had said in disgust. The name had stuck ever since.

They each had their own cars, every one of them much newer than any of my friends' vehicles of course, and often cut us off as we all made a mad dash for the exit. For some reason, however, they never bothered us when Robyn drove. I couldn't tell if it was her tendency to cut corners a little too close, or if the state of her car itself acted as a deterrent. I didn't care. As long as they stayed away I was happy.

As we pulled out of the parking lot and onto the tree-lined highway, I caught a glimpse of someone standing just within the tree line. It was Hobo Bob. My heart lurched and the hair stood up on my arms, though I couldn't say why. I couldn't figure out why he bothered me so much. He hadn't been hanging around as much as before, and it wasn't as if he ever approached any of us or shuffled around muttering and shouting random curse words. A thought flashed through my head, not as vivid as the one last Sunday of the weird dogs, but clearer. A picture of me standing in the clearing in the swamp where my friends and I had enjoyed the bonfire on Halloween. Only, it wasn't dark out and I was wearing jeans and an old t-shirt. Just as quickly, the thought flickered away. I shook my head. Oh well.

I made it home in time to learn that my mom had decided we were all going out together to see a movie. This was a rare occurrence, since going to an actual movie theater cost an arm and a leg these days. I went to my room to deposit my backpack and put on a warmer shirt. Even Dad was going this time, and he grumbled as he grabbed the keys to our SUV. Usually I was on Dad's side; we always had to go see a kid's movie because of Aiden and the twins, and I could usually argue on behalf of the both of us. But tonight I welcomed a distraction, even a ridiculous one.

The movie, of course, was terrible. The plot was shallow and the main character was a talking rodent who thought that noisy bodily functions were the height of comedy. Naturally, my brothers liked it and my mother laughed along with them. Dad had the luxury of falling asleep but I merely gritted my teeth and bore it.

By the time we got home it was dark and time for the boys to go to bed. I feigned exhaustion and headed downstairs as well. I settled in bed and picked up the remote to my old TV. After seeing tonight's movie, I needed something substantial to drag me back from what had been equivalent to cinema trash. Just my luck, an old classic adventure was on. The movie was already halfway over but it was more than enough to revive my spirits.

I fell asleep just as the main characters were fighting their way towards freedom. Perhaps that explains the dream I had. I was running through a forest somewhere, not the one behind my home, but one that seemed more primitive, with oaks and beech trees that had to be hundreds of years old. I kept tripping on their roots as I ran, my feet bare once again, the hem of my old sweat pants loose around my ankles as I struggled to stay ahead of something. At one point, I glanced down and screamed. It wasn't roots I was tripping over but long, skinny, stick-like arms and fingers that reached out from the brush, gripping at my ankles.

Finally, one managed a decent grasp and I fell forward, my hands skidding in mud and leaf litter. I rolled over, panting hard, my loose hair sticking to my sweaty face, and saw glowing eyes above me. These ones were red and the only other thing I could see in the dark was several pairs of long incisors, leaning down to devour me.

I woke with a start and, I'm pretty certain, a startled shout. I blinked around my room, taking deep breaths as my heart began to slow its erratic beating. I groaned and fell back onto my pillows. My sheets were soaked with sweat and my head was pounding. So much for ignoring my dreams and visions. I cracked open an eye and glanced out my sliding glass door. Just before dawn, if I was guessing right. Sighing, I flung my sheets back and marched into my bathroom. I was tired, but I hated the feeling of cold sweat, so I thought a shower would be a good idea.

The hot water and fragrant scent of my lavender soap woke me up. Once dry, I pulled on a pair of old jeans and wrapped a towel around my torso. I walked back out into my room and opened my dresser. Of course, there was only one clean t-shirt left. Guess it was time to do some laundry.

I pulled the shirt out. It was rusty orange and portrayed the emblem of some summer camp I had attended a year or two before. The color caught my attention more than anything. The vision of me standing in the swamp wearing jeans and a t-shirt came back. Yup, the t-shirt had been this exact color. My skin prickled from the strangeness again.

_Doesn't mean anything,_ I told myself as I pulled the shirt over my wet head.

Along with hearing voices and having bad dreams, I had often times had premonitions as a child. When I was six, I burst into my parents' room, crying because I had seen Rugby get hit by a car. Rugby was our family cat. My parents cajoled me and told me Rugby was fine. I wasn't convinced. But he showed up that evening for his dinner and a few games of chase-the-string with my mom. At the end of the week, however, my dad found him on the side of the highway. We buried him in the backyard and planted an azalea over him. The azalea was now full grown, but we never got another cat after that.

That wasn't the only time. When I was twelve, I dreamt that Bradley would fall and break his arm when we were playing on the slope behind our house. It was something he had said in my dream that triggered it, and when he repeated the same words, I jumped in front of him before he could leap onto the log that was about to give way.

Little premonitions, really, but enough to make anyone else worry. For a while, I thought I might have a sixth sense, but then the premonitions went away. Now I was beginning to wonder if they were coming back, along with everything else.

I sighed and flipped on the hair dryer. Once fully dressed and my curly hair reasonably tamed, I returned to my room to make my bed. That's when I saw him, standing outside my sliding glass door. I froze and blinked, wondering if he was real.

He stood ten feet from the glass, just on the edge of the concrete patch that served as a small patio. He was as still as a statue and looked like white marble in the dim, early morning light. I was afraid to blink again, in case he disappeared.

A name floated up from my buried thoughts. "Fergus," I whispered, wondering where on earth that name had come from.

The great white hound opened his mouth and his tongue lolled happily as he panted. He turned and trotted away across my backyard, his loping gait easy and smooth.

I cursed, half-mesmerized and half-panicked. Something was urging me to follow him, something I couldn't control. Something instinctual, something . . . primitive.

Without another thought, I grabbed my shoes and shoved them onto my feet. I snatched my sweatshirt off the back of my desk chair and taking one more glance at my desktop, decided to go prepared this time. Fishing into my backpack, I found the small container of pepper spray I always kept there and shoved it into my pocket.

As the sun was just cresting the eastern horizon, its rays piercing the morning fog, I made my way down the steep slope into the woods of the swamp, puffing against the cold air and wondering if it was a ghost I was chasing. Wondering if I really was crazy after all.

-Nine-

Revelation

I was halfway to the clearing when I remembered why I had avoided these woods for the past week. Last time I was walking this particular path, I had been moving in the opposite direction, trying desperately to escape a herd of demented garden gnomes. At least this time I had my pepper spray, though I wasn't so sure pepper spray would work against a hallucination.

Despite my wariness, I trudged on. The morning was cool, the fog slow to burn off. I pulled my sweatshirt on and tucked my hands under my armpits and listened for any unusual sounds. The only thing I could hear was the familiar drip-splat of the condensation falling from the leaves. Even the footfalls of the huge dog several yards in front of me were silent, eerily so. As I followed him, I wondered what had gotten into me of late. I never was the type to seek out adventure or go off on my own if I wasn't comfortable, or familiar, with the outcome. Any minute, those freakish gnomes could show up again. No, at any moment I could start seeing things again and if anyone happened to be hiking down here and saw me running in terror from nothing, well, let's just say my reputation didn't need any more damage.

I sighed, the smell of eucalyptus oil and the dampness that lingered around swamps flooding my senses. I shook my head and took note of how far we had traveled down the equestrian trail; about halfway between my house and the lowest point of the swamp.

The great hound vanished around a bend guarded by a small thicket of arroyo willows.

"Hey, dog, wait up!" I called after it. Another tally to add to the 'signs Meghan is crazy' chart.

Of course, the dog didn't wait up and by the time I made it to the bend in the path, he had disappeared. I grumbled and considered turning around and going home. This was ridiculous. What had enticed me out here in the first place? I would have turned around and marched right back up that tall hill, but before I had a chance to move, something flashed in the corner of my eye.

I was wound up enough to actually make a small noise of surprise. Wonderful. Delusional _and_ dramatic. I was turning out to be your average American, garden variety basket case. And of course the thing that had startled me was the white hound, appearing out of what seemed like nowhere (probably that clump of bushes growing close to the willows) and in front of a large eucalyptus tree that had fallen over recently.

The dog merely stood and stared at me, tongue lolling, eyes twinkling as if he was laughing at me. Great. Even animals thought I was crazy now. We stared at each other, maybe only for a minute, maybe longer. It didn't take long for my patience to run thin.

"Okay dog, I don't know why you led me down here, but if it was to make a fool out of me, you succeeded. Now, if you don't mind, I think I'll walk back home and maybe go back to sleep or get some homework done."

I turned slowly, my head hanging low, muttering to myself as I hunched over against the early morning chill.

"He didn't lead you down here to make a fool out of you," someone said.

Once, when I was twelve or thirteen, my little brothers thought it would be funny to sneak up on me while I was watching a scary movie with my friends during a sleep-over. They waited until the movie was over and we were downstairs discussing the likelihood that some mutated alien would come crashing through my door in the middle of the night to slaughter us all. We ran out of popcorn, and seeing as it was my house, I was volunteered to go upstairs to make more. I expected my brothers to leap out at me once I reached the top of the staircase, and then maybe somewhere else just inside the kitchen when I made it past the staircase unscathed. What I hadn't expected was for my brothers to dress up as aliens and to hide in the pantry. I almost knocked one of Bradley's teeth out and came trainer diapers close to peeing my pants. That was nothing compared to my reaction now.

Obviously, I wasn't expecting the dog to answer me so if I screamed I had good reason to. I just hoped I hadn't woken anybody up in the houses surrounding the swamp. The last thing I needed was for the fire department to show up to rescue the potential murder victim who was just some hysterical high school girl who heard voices. Yes, my classmates would _love_ to sink their teeth into _that_ information . . .

When my wits returned (well, most of them at least), I shot my head up, grasping my pepper spray so tight I was surprised I didn't accidentally spray myself. There, leaning against a tree, was a young man. He hadn't been there before. I may have a tendency to hallucinate, but I would have noticed him when I first arrived.

He looked relaxed, his arms linked over his broad chest and his legs casually crossed at the ankles. His hair was a dark reddish-brown color and from this distance, his eyes took on a strange, dark shade of green. I had never seen anyone like him in my life. Yet, he was uncomfortably familiar; as if he were one of those people you bump into everywhere but have never officially met.

As soon as my sense of self-awareness returned, my eyes darted around and I swallowed hard. Who was this person? Where had he come from? Did he have anything to do with those crazy gnome things from the other day? Should I run screaming for my life?

"Don't worry, I've taken care of them."

I gaped. _Huh?_ _Who_ are _you?!_ "Taken care of them?" was what I said instead, as if that were the most important issue at the moment.

"The faelah. They're all gone."

"Faelah?"

The young man grinned and shook his head sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I keep forgetting."

He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. He looked tired and I wondered what had caused it.

"The small creatures that chased you last week. Humans might call them goblins or trolls."

"Or gnomes?" I offered, and then started in surprise. What was I doing? Taking part in this conversation as if it were normal to stand around on a Saturday morning and chat about imaginary creatures as if they were real. With a strange, albeit, good-looking guy.

"Yes," he said carefully, "or gnomes."

I forgot my timidity and whispered, "You saw them too?"

He nodded. Something about the look he gave me seemed familiar, and once again a snippet of a dream or memory flashed across my mind: this same person, standing before me in the light of the full moon wearing a hooded trench coat.

"Have we met before?" I braved.

He only nodded. "Yes, under unfortunate circumstances."

I waited for him to continue, my fingers all too aware of the small canister of pepper spray in my hand. This was just getting to be too weird.

"You were lured here a week ago, in the middle of the night, and I had to, uh, dispatch a threat."

I felt my knees go weak. That nightmare I couldn't quite remember; the one with the dogs . . . That had actually happened?

At some point I found my voice. "Who are you?"

"I am called Cade." He grinned, but kept his distance.

That struck me as something odd to say. _I am called Cade_. Not, _my name is Cade_. But the name seemed familiar too. "And do you have a last name, Cade?"

He shrugged. "Not one I find much use for."

What on earth did that mean? "Well, I would like to know it anyway."

"MacRoich, Cade MacRoich."

No, I didn't know any Cade MacRoichs. Suddenly another thought hit me. "If I was lured down here last weekend, and all that about those corpse dogs-"

"Cumorrig," he interrupted.

"Okay," I said, not really caring what fancy name he wanted to give them, "If I wasn't dreaming, why did I wake up in my room?"

Cade grimaced. "I don't think you'll like my answer."

I gestured for him to continue. I didn't think I would like it either, but it seemed important that I know.

"I carried you."

"Okay, thanks for clearing that all up, but I think I'll get back home now."

The last thing I needed was some creepy stalker who broke into my house in the middle of the night, no matter how kind the gesture or how attractive he was.

"Meghan, wait."

I froze and got my pepper spray ready, all the while trying to convince the little hairs on the back of my neck to calm down. I turned, my eyes narrowing even as my heart sped up.

"And just how is it that you know my name?"

He didn't answer. He only stood still as a statue, his dark green eyes studying me carefully. It should have creeped me out even more but it didn't. I worked up my courage.

"And how did you get into my room without waking up the entire house?"

"You left the door open when you sleepwalked into the swamp."

Fair enough. "But how did you know where I lived?"

"Fergus showed me."

I glanced over at the grayish-white wolfhound. He had an intelligence about his gaze, but I never heard of a dog who could lead someone to an exact location that wasn't his own home.

I took a breath and relaxed, but only a little. "Listen, I appreciate you helping me the other night, I really do. But this is getting a little too weird for me, and I have too much weird in my life as it is."

I turned to walk away.

"Meghan, did you hear voices growing up?"

I froze. I forgot about why it worried me that he knew my name or where I lived. He could have figured that all out in the past few days by simply paying attention. But to know about my childhood? That was some serious stalking.

"Especially around trees. Did you think they spoke to you?"

His voice was gentle, and even though he moved slowly and carefully towards me, I felt like a rabbit about to spring away from a fox. How could he know this? The sound of the wailing voices and the image of the trees cracking at their bases flooded back to me, the memory blurred at the edges like a water-stained document.

I cried out and stepped back. "Stay away from me," I hissed, the emotion in my voice thick.

"I already know you've seen strange things. Gnomes you called them, and the Cumorrig. Do you often have nightmares or have visions of things before they happen?"

My head was spinning and it felt like I couldn't pull enough oxygen into my lungs. I stumbled as I took a step back. The golden light of dawn pierced through the trees the way water flowed through a sieve. I didn't care about how beautiful it was. Right then it seemed as if the split sunlight were a thousand probes, searching me out and prying into my mind. _Who are you Meghan Elam?_ What _are you?_ they seemed to taunt as Cade's questions hit more and more closely to home.

I hadn't realized he had moved closer, and his voice, now a whisper, made me jump.

"And your eyes . . . what color are they?"

I looked up into his, frightened and overwhelmed and enchanted all in the same breath. I could hear his strong heartbeat, though he was careful to keep his distance. His own eyes, I had once decided were a very dark green were now paler, more golden than before. It hadn't been a trick of the light, it hadn't been my miscalculation. They had changed, just as mine changed.

"You see, they were silver when I first met you, but that could have been a result of the moonlight. They were hazel when you arrived fifteen minutes ago, but now they are almost blue. Your eyes change color, of their own accord, don't they?"

And just like that, the spell he had me under snapped. I felt suddenly angry, and terrified. I pushed at his chest and realized it was like trying to move a mountain. Somehow I managed to shove him away, and then I took advantage of his slight surprise and put distance between us.

"Leave me alone!" I shrieked. "You come near me again, you _freak_ , and I'll call the cops!"

I bolted, sprinting up the horse path as fast as I could. I still clutched the pepper spray, and I couldn't say why I hadn't used it. That would have slowed him down, surely.

I never heard him come after me and even as I climbed the slope and stumbled onto our shaded back lawn, I didn't look back. It was like the day the gnomes chased me all over again, but this time I was not escaping some horrible little creatures, I was fleeing from an incredibly good-looking guy who could very well understand me completely. I was either saving myself from that serial killer I always imagined lived down in the swamp, or I had finally gone over the deep end.

-Ten-

Message

For two weeks I ignored what had happened the morning I met Cade for the second time. I never saw him at school posing as the homeless man. It had dawned upon me later that day, once I was safely and securely locked away in my room, that all this time it was him who had been lingering outside my high school. Well, that and the fact that the memories from the night I had wandered into the swamp started surfacing in my mind, like bubbles of wax in my lava lamp. I never ventured outside my house, and I never saw his dog Fergus. It was hard forgetting about what he had said, though. If I had been completely honest, I would have answered yes to each of his questions. I did hear voices, I did see things, and my eyes did change color. But so had his, I was certain of it.

My friends at school noticed my behavior too. Thomas asked me that first week if I had gotten into a fight with my parents. I had looked at him as if he had gone nuts, but he just shrugged and said I seemed even more introverted than usual. After that I tried to act more normal. Well, normal for me at least.

But the truth was, as hard as I tried, I simply could not erase that meeting with Cade MacRoich from my memory. If that was his real name. Who on earth was he? A local college student looking for a little thrill in his life? Some ex-convict with spare time on his hands? And how could he have known about all my little eccentricities? Even my best friends weren't privy to all my secrets. And why was he so interested in me? I was no one special. It was too puzzling, but I was determined to let it go. I had enough drama in my life.

It was during Thanksgiving weekend that I found the note taped to my sliding glass door. I had kept it locked around the clock and never used it since returning from the strange meeting with Cade. I feared he might try to sneak in and kill me.

At first I thought it was a message from Tully or Robyn, but when I unlocked the door and peeled the note off, I realized the paper was far too ornate to belong to either of them. It was expensive paper, I could tell, and falling victim to my curiosity, I flipped it over. There was an actual wax seal keeping the folded edges shut. I studied the design. An ornate Celtic knot with an eagle in the center. Intrigued, I walked to my desk and fished out my pocket knife, carefully loosening the seal so it wouldn't break. I opened up the letter to find it addressed to me. The writing was impeccable, but not overly ornate. It made me think of a love note that'd been written during England's Georgian period. Hah. Me get a love letter? That would be stranger than fiction.

I began to read and immediately I knew it was from Cade. I had vowed to forget what had happened, but apparently, he hadn't. I should have crumpled it up and thrown it away, right then and there. Or, better yet, I should have taken it straight to my parents and insisted they call the police. Who would have thought that I would ever have a stalker? But deep down, I wanted this mystery cleared up, and the only way to do that was to start by reading the note. Sighing and trying to convince myself nothing bad would come of reading a simple letter, I continued on:

_Dear Meghan,_

_I want to start this letter by apologizing for our last two meetings. As you can tell, I am not at all adept at making proper introductions. Forgive me for not contacting you sooner, but I thought it best to give you some time to let everything settle in. I wish only to make you aware of two things: who it is you really are, and where it is you come from. I will not go into detail in this letter, for these are not topics which should be discussed in such an impersonal manner. Do allow me, however, to explain our first meeting. You were lured into the swamp, not by myself, but by another who knew of you and who wished to learn more about you. I cannot remember if I explained my presence in the first place, but it was my duty to clear the area around your home of the faelah, and I was unable to finish my job before you arrived. I can only apologize to you again and hope that you might come to forgive me._

_Another matter that seemed to disturb you was the fact that I did indeed return you to your residence after you became unconscious after the whole incident. Please believe me when I say that nothing ungentlemanly occurred; I merely wished to see you safe at home, and though you may not believe it, Fergus is a rather clever hound and he did lead the way. On the matter of knowing your name, I must postpone that information until we meet again. I realize this is all shocking to you, but if you try to contact the police, they will not find me. I would not blame you if you did, but you must trust me on this matter._

_I will not approach you or seek you out. I shall simply wait until you are ready to learn more. When you are prepared to meet with me again, leave me a note in the hollow knothole of the oak tree along the swamp trail, the tree that is closest to your home. In the mean time, should you find your curiosity unquenchable, I suggest you learn as much about the ancient Celts as you can._

_Most sincerely,_

_Cade MacRoich_

I finished the letter and dropped it into my lap, and after a moment I picked it up and read it again. Who wrote letters like that anymore? The language was so, _antiquated_. When I gave it some thought, it dawned upon me that when he had spoken to me in the swamp, he hadn't sounded like he was from this decade, or even this century. It was extremely odd, but then again, I attracted odd the way flowers attract bees.

I glanced up at the blank screen of what used to be my dad's old work computer. So much for forgetting about all that had happened in the past few weeks. I didn't know how long I stared, numb and scared, at that old monitor but at some point in time, three things clicked in my head.

First, whether all this was a hallucination or not, it was happening and I had to address it. No more pushing it aside and hoping it would go away.

Secondly, I had another option. My whole life my only choices with regards to my issues had been therapy and medication. Cade offered a third possibility; that all this was real and that he could explain it all to me. Unlikely and crazy as it seemed, I shouldn't shun it simply because modern society would label me mentally unstable. News flash: I was halfway there already.

And last but not least, I was curious. There, I admitted it. I was one hundred percent, flat out fascinated with what Cade MacRoich had presented to me. Of course, I was terrified as well, but I had always been the type to tackle a good mystery and I was never satisfied with a cover-up story if I felt all the clues hadn't added up.

So, taking a deep breath, I pulled out my binder, flipped to a blank sheet of paper and jotted down the words _faelah_ and _ancient Celts_. I was curious, yes, but I was going to go about this the right way. Before meeting with Cade again, I was going to do my research; see how much I could find out on my own. Perhaps I would learn he was the crazy one after all.

* * *

I couldn't find much time to research, what with midterms coming up before the winter break, but I did manage to get in a few internet searches and was rather satisfied with the results.

First I searched for the term _faelah_ , and of course, nothing came up. I wasn't surprised. I had never heard the word before in my life. Next, I searched for information on the ancient Celts. This proved to be much more promising when a hefty list of websites popped up on the screen. I clicked on one that looked legitimate and was immediately faced with a page full of knot work designs and more lists.

I skimmed the introduction and read the overview. It told me that the Celts were a group of ancient people who inhabited the British Isles and some parts of mainland Europe. They were a tribal people and practiced a pagan religion. Okay, I knew that much from Robyn already. Weird how one of my friends was into this stuff and now I had some guy suggesting I research it. _Just a coincidence,_ I told myself.

I clicked on the word _pagan_ since it was highlighted, and that took me to a definition. Growing up, I had been led to believe that _pagan_ was synonymous with _devil worshipper_. Apparently I had been wrong. I read a few examples, nodding at the list of ancient civilizations that practiced pagan belief systems: the Romans, Greeks, Egyptians, and of course, the Celts to name a few. According to this site, most pagan cultures worshiped a multitude of gods and considered the earth and its bounty to be sacred. That didn't sound too bad at all. In fact, it sounded much like Robyn's own belief system.

I clicked on the link that brought me back to the main page. I looked over the different headings, my eyes halting when I read one that said _Celtic Gods and Goddesses_. I moved my cursor above it and clicked. Once again, I was greeted with a list. I scrolled down the screen, trying to figure out how to pronounce each name as it passed: Balor, the Dagda, Danu, Don, Epona, Lugh . . .

It was when I got to the Morrigan that I stopped. I read it carefully, remembering Robyn's Halloween costume. But something else seemed familiar about the name as well . . .

Cade's voice suddenly played in my mind: " _Cumorrig. Hounds of the Morrigan . . ._ "

I clicked on the name without so much as an afterthought.

_The Morrigan: major Celtic deity that is often represented in the three aspects of Neaim, Macha and Badb. She is mostly associated with war and the battlefield and is often depicted in animal form, most commonly the raven._

I stopped reading, my eyes glued to the last word of that sentence. A raven. My mind flashed back to the day I stood waiting for Tully and the afternoon I had cut my finger with the potato peeler. Both times I had seen a raven, too big to be a natural bird. And both times it had watched me, I was sure of it.

My skin prickled and I glanced out my sliding glass door. It was getting late, twilight descending on my backyard like a blanket. I got up and checked to see if the door was still locked. It was. I grabbed the comforter from my bed, wrapped myself in it, and sat back down at my desk. I pulled out my binder, found the section where I had written down my notes from Cade's letter, and quickly jotted down the paragraph about the Morrigan.

Setting my binder aside, I returned to the site's home page. I had read enough about gods and goddesses for the time being. I clicked on the _Otherworldly Creatures_ tab. This gave me a list of things with strange names and descriptions: Leprechauns, silkies, fairies, changelings; your usual list. The little creatures that had followed me weren't listed, but a few descriptions from other creatures matched. I decided they either hadn't been prevalent in ancient Ireland, or people's sightings had been sketchy.

Further down the page, I spotted a link that read _familiar animals_. Curious, I opened that link, only to find a Celtic design of several known animals accompanied by a short description. The paragraph above them said that often, animals from the Otherworld were seen by the Celts. Otherworldly animals were very distinctive, and although they were similar to earthly animals in physical makeup, they tended to be larger and white with reddish or rusty colored ears.

My heart thudded in my chest. Fergus. Cade's dog. He was huge, white and had ruddy colored ears. And so did the dog from my childhood memories.

I quickly closed the web page and took several deep breaths. This was too much. It was as if, all my life, I had been puttering around grasping for answers, and they had been just out of my reach. Now, they were here, splayed before me in plain sight. But one big question still remained: what did all of this have to do with _me_? Why was I suddenly surrounded by symbols and creatures from an ancient pagan belief system?

_Or worse,_ I thought, my mouth dry as I tried to swallow, _had these things been around me my entire life, and I was just now noticing them?_ The voices, the visions. Had they all been clues and answers trying to break down some invisible barrier?

I had to talk to Cade. I didn't trust him, I didn't know him, but he seemed to be the only one who had any clue about what was really happening to me.

Trying to fall asleep that night was a joke. How could I, what with all I had just learned? I glanced over at the clock, its glowing red letters burning an image in my mind. It was after twelve, but I couldn't sleep. Frustrated, I kicked the sheets back and crawled over to my desk. Ripping a piece of lined paper out of my binder, I wrote:

_Cade,_

_I researched the ancient Celts like you suggested. If you are still willing to help me, I have lots of questions to ask. Can you meet me after school next Tuesday? We get out at 2:30._

_Meghan_

It was crazy. I was going to ask a strange man to help me answer the biggest mysteries of my life. He could be lying. He could be insane. He could be some sadistic creep who planned to murder me and save my fingernails as trophies. I shivered. As much as my common sense wanted to steer me down a different path, something deeper, something more primitive was fighting to escape the cage I had put it in years ago.

Once the letter was written and I had made the decision to leave it in the oak tree in the morning, I was a little more successful at falling asleep. I thought my dreams would be haunted that night, but instead of the usual goblins and trolls creeping around and cackling at me, I dreamt of a place so beautiful and calm I thought I might weep. I walked through gently rolling country, spongy with damp moss and thick grass. Flowers bloomed everywhere, despite the soft, cool mist that hung in the air. The hills were littered with lichen-encrusted stones, great and small, and in the distance I could see trees that belonged to a very old forest.

I crested one of the hills and it was then that the mist parted and revealed a small, verdant valley and what could only be an old castle, not quite in ruins, nestled against the hillside. It was covered in wild ivy and a sluggish stream trickled past it. Just as the sun was piercing through the fog, scattering its light against the castle's diamond-paned windows, I woke up.

My alarm clock read three in the morning. Sighing, I slouched back into my pillows. I reached up and touched my cheeks. They were wet. Shock coursed through me as I realized I had been crying. But the dream hadn't been terrifying or depressing. As I drifted back to sleep, I realized I had been crying because of the beauty of the place and the knowledge that somehow I knew I had been there before.

* * *

The next morning, before school, I slipped through my glass door for the first time in days and crept down onto the wide path leading into the swamp. It was another foggy morning, the cold dewy air rolling over my skin and clogging my lungs. I found the tree almost immediately; the only oak standing amidst the tall, pale-barked eucalyptus on this side of the woods. The knothole was a little harder to find, hidden by a branch and just out of reach.

Once I located it, I glanced over my note once more, rolled it into a tube, and slipped it into the hollow of the tree. Making sure that no one was watching me, I climbed back up the hill, casting my eyes around and listening for Otherworldly creatures. Not until I was safely back inside my room, my door closed and locked behind me, did I wonder once again if I had made the right choice.

-Eleven-

Rescued

I became obsessed with checking the oak tree for Cade's response. That afternoon when I got home from school, I went down to see if my note was still lodged inside the knothole. It was. An unwelcome pang of disappointment overwhelmed me, but a few mornings later when I checked, it was gone.

Giddy relief flooded my senses, and I had to tell myself it wasn't because my chances of seeing Cade again had just increased. No, I wasn't interested in him. First of all, he was in his early twenties, at least. Even if he wasn't the serial killer my conscience kept trying to paint him as, he was too old for me. Nope, I just wanted to see him again because he might have some answers for me. _But those eyes, dark green at first and as changeable as your own . . ._ a tiny voice whispered in my mind. _Ah! Stop it Meg,_ I chastised myself, _boys have never been interested in you, remember? Why would this time be any different? And since when have you not been afraid of him? He took on a half dozen of those hellhounds without getting so much as a scratch._

I shivered, hugging my binder close. It was Friday, only four more days until I was going to meet him again. That is, if he was still willing to meet. I still hadn't received an answer to my letter, and there was still plenty of time to remind myself that Cade MacRoich was closer to being an obsessive stalker than a charming college student I should in no way, shape or form be interested in.

* * *

By Sunday morning I had given up on Cade. Maybe I had imagined him after all. I spent some time cleaning my room; doing a load of laundry and picking up the clutter that always littered my floor. I turned on my radio and cranked it up loud so I could hear the music over the vacuum cleaner. It was no surprise then that I screamed when I turned around to find the white wolfhound sitting stoically just outside my sliding glass door. Luckily, Mom had dragged my brothers out shopping for clothes and Dad was at a friend's house watching a football game. Wouldn't want them to think there was anything wrong with me . . .

I turned down the radio and switched off the vacuum cleaner. I glared at the dog, Fergus, annoyed at his ghostly appearance. It was only after my heart stopped racing that I realized perhaps he was here to deliver a message. I snorted. Yeah right. I had been ignoring this strange, supernatural stuff all my life, why was I welcoming it with open arms now?

Sighing, I walked over to the door, flipped the latch to unlock it, and slid it open. Fergus blinked at me once and opened his mouth to start panting. Cocking an eyebrow, I reached down to pet him. I'd never really tried to pet him before, unless you counted my dreams, and if that was even him in my dreams.

Before my hand made contact with his wiry head, he turned and loped off towards the far edge of the yard. He paused and looked over his shoulder. I was wearing a spaghetti strap tank top and my old ratty sweats. My hair was roughly wrapped in a bun and held there with an old clip. I didn't look my best. Shrugging, I sought out my sandals and slipped my feet into them and grabbed an old sweatshirt on the way out. It was closer to evening than noon, and the late autumn air was chilly. As I walked, I could feel the butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. Would Cade be waiting for me? And I had decided to go out looking like a heathen?

Turned out, I had nothing to worry about. Fergus merely led me to the old oak tree where he proceeded to sit down and whine. It didn't take a brain surgeon to figure out he wanted me to check the knothole. Inside was a note, written on the same type of paper as last time with the same Celtic seal.

_Meghan,_

_Of course I will still help you. Until Tuesday then._

_\- C.M._

_p.s. Keep away from the forest until you see me next._

I couldn't tell you why that simple note made me feel like I was strolling down the beach on a warm summer day. Or, more likely, if I told you the real reason I'd have to go back and re-evaluate my sanity. Let's just say, I was finally going to have some answers, after all my years of fearing to ask them. Yes, that was it.

Fergus escorted me back to my house, not leaving until he heard the lock snap in place on my door. I glanced over my room then turned to look at the white hound with the red ears once again. He was gone. I shouldn't have been surprised. According to my research, he was Otherworldly and probably had oodles of magical abilities. Ah, so I was finally admitting I believed in all this supernatural stuff. Oh well, what else was I to do?

I spent the remainder of the afternoon finishing homework and choosing my clothes for school the next day. Dad got home around five, Mom soon after. She had picked up pizza for dinner, so claiming I still had homework to do, I grabbed a few slices and headed back downstairs. I escaped just in time. My brothers, having endured a day of shopping with Mom, had just unleashed all their pent-up energy from minding their manners all day.

Actually feeling worn out for once, I decided to set my Celtic research aside for one day. Besides, I had an appointment with Cade on Tuesday and I was hoping he would fill me in on anything important I might have missed. A tingle of dread passed through me as I lay in bed, trying to will my mind to calm down so I could fall asleep. The funny thing was, I honestly couldn't tell if my jitters were a result of anticipation at seeing Cade again, or fear that this was all some huge mistake.

* * *

I woke up the next morning feeling restless and groggy. I couldn't remember my dream from the night before, but I had a feeling it hadn't been a pleasant one. It took me forever to get ready for school, so Mom ended up taking me on her way to work. The public high school, since it had so many students, started classes at different times throughout the day. Mom's first English class didn't start until later in the morning. This is why I usually got a ride with Thomas or Tully, but on those special occasions when I was running late, Mom was my chauffeur.

"You'll have to catch a ride home with a friend though Meg. There's a teachers' meeting at the high school this afternoon."

I nodded as I pulled myself out of her car in the parking lot of Black Lake High. The final bell had already rung, and I had to visit the office for a tardy slip. I was never tardy to school, so the whole situation put me in a bad mood for the rest of the morning.

At break Tully and Robyn caught up to me.

"Where were you this morning?" Tully asked.

"Slept in," was all I said. It was the truth after all, and I didn't feel like elaborating.

At lunch we met up with Will and Thomas out on the field. To my complete horror and agitation, Adam Peders and Josh Turner were on the opposite end, showing off for a posse of freshman girls. The girls were giggling and falling all over themselves because of the attention they were getting from the two hottest junior boys in the school.

Robyn rolled her eyes and started making barnyard animal sounds. It was the first time I smiled all day. Telling myself to forget about the boys, I sat down with my friends under a tall pine tree and started sifting through my lunch.

Everything was going fine until a familiar voice shouted, "Hey Elam."

I cringed and felt Tully tense up next to me.

Adam sauntered up, his friends following just behind him. _Lemmings,_ I reminded myself, trying not to let my fear show. _They're just a bunch of brainless, follow-one-another-off-a-cliff lemmings . . ._

"I heard you were thinking about getting some plastic surgery."

I did _not_ want to deal with this today.

"Why, what's wrong with her?" Josh asked, supplying the next line to what I was sure was going to be an insult.

"Someone told me she was born with her ass where her face is supposed to be. But I don't see how fixing it could make a difference."

It was like someone had poured lukewarm bacon grease all over me while kicking me in the stomach at the same time.

I barely registered Robyn jumping up and practically screaming, "Piss off Peders!" or Thomas standing to defend me, only to be shoved back by one of Adam's friends while being fed his very own offensive insult.

Above it all, I could hear the laughter. The freshmen girls giggling and pointing, the other bystanders either shaking their heads in shame or trying to hide their grins.

Suddenly, something inside me snapped. Normally, I would sit in mortification and wait for my tormenters to leave. This time, although I remained sitting, a bone-deep anger began to boil within me. I glared at Adam but he just crossed his arms and simply smirked back, as if to say _'what are you going to do about it?'_

After a silent standoff that lasted a mere few seconds, he snorted and turned to leave, muttering something else to his friends. I didn't hear it this time, but the chorus of chuckles made me believe it wasn't anything pleasant.

"Meg, forget those chauvinist pigs," Robyn was saying.

But I wasn't paying attention to her. I kept glaring after Adam, my anger rising. I glanced at the few pinecones scattered on the ground around us, still green and not cracked open by the autumn's heat. I wished with all my might that I could pick up one of those heavy cones and launch it at Adam's head. If only . . .

I knew right away that my anger must have triggered my imagination, because I pictured one of those cones rising up and flying through the air, making a bee line for the back of Adam's head.

A strange gasp from Tully, and Robyn's shocked face as she pointed numbly at the airborne pinecone, was the only evidence proving that I wasn't imagining anything. The cone cracked against the back of Adam's head and he went sprawling, face first on the dirt track.

My face drained of all color and my heart almost stopped beating. I had killed him. Somehow I had made that pinecone fly through the air and it killed him! For once in my life, I actually felt like I was going to faint. Fortunately, the crowd that had swarmed around Adam backed away and I could see him struggling to sit up. He looked pretty ticked off and when he pulled his hand away from the back of his head, there was blood. He didn't look like he had suffered a concussion, though.

I sighed in relief and almost melted into the grass. I hated Adam, but I didn't want a murder on my hands. It took a few more seconds for my mind to clear, and when it did, it dawned upon me that I had absolutely no idea how I had made the pinecone launch itself at my mortal enemy. Had I really done it? Used some form of telekinetics I unknowingly possessed? I guess it could be true, especially knowing what I'd already witnessed and been a part of this year so far.

"Where did that pinecone come from?" Will asked, his voice breaking into my thoughts.

"Robyn, did you throw it?" Tully whispered.

"No!" Robyn insisted. She gave me a disturbed look, and I merely shrugged, feeling immensely nervous and guilty.

"I'm sitting on the ground. If I had thrown it, the angle would have been greater." Right? I hoped that made sense. I bit my lip. I felt terribly uncomfortable about the whole thing. Besides, I hadn't actually thrown it, and if I did admit it, Adam would probably kill me for making a fool out of him in front of half the school.

"Meghan Elam threw it at Adam, I saw her."

I closed my eyes, wishing for some angel of death to sweep down and take me away.

Robyn hissed beside me. "That _bitch!_ "

She sure was laying on the curse words thick today.

Michaela stepped forward with Veronica and Therese, two other girls from the cheerleading squad.

But no one was looking at them. They were all looking at me. I was screwed.

"Come on Meghan," Thomas murmured as he helped me to my feet.

I stood, a little shaky as a result of all the high drama. I didn't know how he thought he was going to protect me. We were sorely outnumbered. And my mom had thought a private school was safer than a public one. At least at a public high school I could have hidden myself in the crowd.

With the help of his friends, Adam stood up and glared so hard at me I suffered from whiplash.

"You are so dead you stupid bitch," he said loud enough only for those closest to him to hear.

I cringed. Should I hope for another pinecone to fly at him? No, that might actually kill him this time.

Before he could make his move, however, the bell signaling the end of lunch sounded shrilly across the campus. At least I could enjoy a few more hours of life before Adam Peders sought his revenge.

* * *

As soon as the final school bell announced the end of the day, I was out of class and sprinting down the hallway like some marathon endorphin junkie looking for the finish line. I had grabbed my books for homework between my last two classes, and now I was on my way to Robyn's car before Adam could find me. It didn't matter that I had not actually thrown the pinecone, and there was no way I could explain what had happened. They already thought I was crazy and the truth would only prove it and give them a reason to do actual harm to me.

I skidded to a stop in front of Robyn's car just as the rest of the student body started trickling into the lot. It took me a whopping two minutes (time I could have used racing to the trail that would have taken me the back way home) to remember that Robyn had a meeting with her Wicca friends today, that Tully had a group science project to work on, and that Will and Thomas had band practice until four. In a sense, it took me two minutes to realize I was a goner.

I cursed and kicked the tire of Robyn's car. I knew she wouldn't take it personally and the only option I had left was to panic. What was I going to do? There was no way on this green earth that Adam was going to let my little infraction slide, and I knew he would enlist his thugs to help him hunt me down. Where were our teachers when you needed them? Ugh, that's what I should have done. I should have ducked into one of the classrooms, feigning confusion on a homework assignment. At least I would have been safe for a while. Now I was merely a sitting duck.

A shout and the sound of my name made me jump. Slowly, I turned my head back towards the school's main building.

I watched Adam and his gang emerge from the hallway, their heads swiveling as they searched me out. It was too late. My friends were preoccupied and I had nowhere else to go; no one to rescue me. If I tried to walk home now, they would follow me and wait until no one else was around . . .

Adam's dark head turned in my direction, and he pointed. My heart leapt into my throat. I started moving again, walking as fast as I could towards the public bus bench. If I was lucky, the bus would pull up and I could get on. I didn't care if it took me further from home, as long as it took me further from Adam Peders. I hopped the bench, and then hurried over to check the schedule. I cursed as tears of true desperation began to form in my eyes. The next bus wouldn't come for another forty minutes. I was doomed.

My attackers drew closer, crossing the parking lot as if it were a field of cheery daisies. My stomach was in knots and my breathing was becoming shallow. It was when Adam was only fifteen feet away that I first heard the growl of an engine. The sound grew louder until it was right beside me, rumbling smoothly.

"Meghan."

I took my eyes off of Adam and his friends, all of whom had miraculously stopped in their tracks. I glanced down and my jaw dropped. It was Cade. He was sitting behind the wheel of a fully restored, classic Trans Am, the silver phoenix emblem standing out against the black paint job. I didn't know a whole lot about cars, but Logan had been really into sports cars since he could walk, and I'd learned a thing or two. The Trans Am would make most car enthusiasts drool in envy.

Cade had removed the t-top, presumably to enjoy the fine weather, and was currently leaning slightly towards the passenger side. I watched in numb shock as he shifted the car into neutral and set the parking break. Then, reaching over, he pushed open the passenger side door.

"Get in," he growled.

Tully and Robyn would have been horrified if they knew I was about to get into a car with some strange guy I had met only twice, and who had admitted to details only a stalker would know. I guess it was a good thing they weren't around for once. The person I had been only a month ago would have been horrified as well. But I was different now, ever since I'd met Cade, and he had insinuated that my visions were not a product of my imagination. No, I still did not trust him. At least not completely. But I had two options to choose from: I could get into the car with him, or I could take my chances with Adam and his knuckle-dragging buddies. I had been wishing for a miracle, and if that miracle exuded danger and mystery and drove a fast car, well, heck, who could blame me if I was grateful? Beggars couldn't be choosers, right?

I glanced back at my tormentors. Adam and his followers weren't looking at me anymore; they were gawking at the Trans Am. _Boys_. I stepped forward and climbed into Cade's car, and that was when the enchantment broke.

Adam stepped forward angrily. "Listen you little slu-"

Cade was up and out of his car so fast I wondered if he hadn't vaporized and somehow reformed just outside his door. Although he stood with his back to the cars whipping by on the highway, his own vehicle acting as a barrier between him and my classmates, he must have looked quite intimidating.

"You no longer have any dealings with Meghan, and if you ever torment or insult her again, I'll be sure to pay you a special visit at your earliest inconvenience."

Something threatening must have showed on Cade's face, because despite his calm voice, Adam paled and nodded his head. Or maybe it was the fact that Cade towered over them.

Adam grabbed his friends roughly and pushed them along, claiming that they had better things to do.

Cade got back into the car, this time at a more normal speed. He closed the door a little too roughly and snapped on his seatbelt.

"Buckle up," he said, his voice hard.

I obeyed, too shocked from what had transpired in the past five minutes to do anything else.

He shifted the car into gear and pulled out onto the highway, gaining speed and heading north. The engine rumbled and the wind tossed my hair over my shoulders. Luckily, it happened to be another one of those ideal fall days, but there was a subtle chill to the air that drew goose bumps from my skin. I pulled my sweatshirt more tightly around me and glanced over at the boy, no, _young man_ , sitting next to me.

Cade looked very much the same as he had the last time I'd seen him. He had on a different designer t-shirt, this one a little more fitted than the first one I had seen him in. I caught a glimpse of something metallic circling his neck. I squinted. It looked like a thick braided chain that didn't quite meet up just in front of his throat. It seemed familiar, but at the same time, completely foreign. I shook my head and forgot about it as I studied him further. My eyes lingered on his shoulders then trailed down his arms to find his knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel more tightly than necessary.

I decided he must be a football player. Why else would he be so lean and muscular? Then I remembered that he probably wasn't from this world. It had made me laugh at first, thinking that Cade might not be human. But if I was willing to admit his dog wasn't of this planet, why couldn't I bring myself to believe that Cade himself was from the Otherworld? The Otherworld. The information had been vague on the internet and I hadn't found time yet to visit the local library.

I shook my head slightly and glanced at his face from the corner of my eye. His features were so well-formed, as if he was the final, perfect draft of several failures before. It was during my shameless staring that he decided to flick his eyes in my direction. I felt myself flush. Surely he saw me studying his profile and most likely he thought I was some gawking, moon-eyed teen. Well, I couldn't blame him, I kind of was. I expected him to laugh and make some clever remark about my being attracted to him. Ugh, it would be mortifying. But when he finally opened his mouth, it was to release a deep sigh. His tense stance seemed to melt away, his arms loosened and his knuckles regained some of their color.

"Forgive me Meghan, I'm early. And I shouldn't have spoken so gruffly to you earlier."

I blinked in surprise. Of all the things for him to say, I had not expected that. Yes, he was a day early, but what did that matter when he rescued me from certain death? Okay, that was putting it a little dramatically, but it would have been pretty bad had he not shown up right when he had. Another coincidence? Or had I somehow summoned him as I had summoned the pinecone?

"I wasn't angry at you, but I just finished work less than an hour ago and it oftentimes leaves me a bit rattled. Besides," now he turned and gave me a mischievous grin, "those, uh, _young men_ , didn't help improve my mood any."

Interesting . . . I couldn't hear my conscience shouting out its warnings anymore . . . And _young men_? That was putting it kindly.

The wind tossed his dark auburn hair around and he reached up with his left hand to rub the back of his neck. I dropped my gaze for a while and glanced out his window. We were coming up to the top of the Mesa and a quick flash of the view of the Pacific Ocean, held at bay by the pale gold of sand dunes, rushed by. That sight always warmed my spirits, and despite the anxiety I now felt, it had the same effect. I turned and looked in the other direction.

"It's alright. You helped me out, actually," I finally said, my voice subdued.

I felt him more than noticed him stiffen beside me. Could he really be angry at Adam and his friends on my behalf? Suddenly, the butterflies I had felt when reading his notes were back.

To distract myself, I cleared my throat and said, "Why are you early?"

Another sigh from Cade. "I finished my assignment early and I had a feeling you would be needing my help."

"Something to do with Otherworldly senses?" I braved. It was probably a long shot, but it wouldn't hurt to fish a little.

He was quiet for a long while, but eventually he said in a voice as docile as my own, "You could say that."

We both descended into silence after that. We came to the traffic light and turned left to go down the hill, leaving the corner market and the small collection of restaurants behind. As we made it to the bottom of the hill, I took in a great breath and asked, "Where exactly are we going?"

I didn't want to sound suspicious, but as the fear of Adam wore off, my awareness of being in a strange car pushed itself forward.

"To Shell Beach," Cade answered in a clipped tone. "The ocean calms me, and there is a particular spot that is a little more isolated than Pismo."

A shiver ran down my arms and I suddenly had the desire to leap from the car the second we reached the stop sign in the far distance.

"I only wish for isolation because what we are sure to discuss cannot be heard by other ears. The beach is good because there will be other people around, in case you are worried I'm going to try something. And the waves make it impossible for others to overhear. Be calm Meghan, I mean you no harm."

I relaxed, but only a little. Once Cade hit the main part of town, he down-shifted his car and took on a more leisurely speed. The hum of its engine helped soothe my nerves a little. The streets in town were busy with people trying to get their errands done before heading home, so the traffic was more dense than usual. I shot up from my slouched position. I was supposed to have caught a ride home after school.

"What is it?" Cade asked, sensing my unease.

"I have to call my parents. They think I'm going to be home soon."

"When we get to the beach, you can call them. Tell them whatever you need to."

I nodded. I hated lying to my parents but if I told them a classmate and I decided to get together to work on some research after school, it wouldn't be a complete lie. True, I was doing research, to some degree, but Cade wasn't a classmate and I didn't think any of my classes would require asking someone who was potentially from the Otherworld questions about Celtic gods and goddesses.

The spot Cade chose to have our talk was a familiar one to me. The access to the beach itself was along a small road that ran between the edge of a bluff and a charming maritime neighborhood. We both got out of the car and Cade didn't bother locking the doors since the top was off. He offered to put my backpack into his trunk and I nodded in agreement. We headed down the staircase that spilled out onto the gritty sand below. Several more rocks and a half dozen or so sea stacks littered the beach and shore. I liked this spot in particular not only for the huge towers of rock and the tide pools off to the north, but also because the tourists tended to flock to the sandy and pier-adorned Pismo just to the south of this point. I didn't like crowds and to me, long sandy beaches were a bit boring.

There were a handful of people walking below. A husband and wife and their two young sons; an older, fit woman playing fetch with her dog; a young college student and his girlfriend, perched upon a rock, waiting for the sunset. Not so many people that Cade and I couldn't talk and not so few that, if he were to attack me, I couldn't scream and draw their attention. He had chosen well.

Once we reached the bottom of the stairs, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed my home number. To my great relief, Bradley answered the phone.

"Yeah," he said, sounding a little out of breath.

I could hear my brothers screaming and chasing each other around in the background.

"Bradley? It's Meg. Could you tell Mom and Dad I'll be home a little late today? I'm going to be doing some research with a classmate for this group project we have to do."

My brother turned and shouted something at the others, not bothering to cover the phone with his hand. I tried not to grin.

"Meg? Yeah, tell Mom you're going to be late because of a school project, got it."

"Thanks buddy," I said, my shoulders slumping in relief.

"Kay, gotta go. Logan's got a spray bottle and Aiden's supposed to be covering me- Aaaaaagh!"

Chuckling, I hung up. "We're all clear. I have at least two hours I think."

I turned and looked at Cade. My skin suddenly started prickling. He was studying me so intensely I was beginning to wonder if he was of the same opinion as Adam with regards to my face. The recollection of my lunchtime nightmare made my face flame anew.

"What is it?" I asked self-consciously.

He sighed and let his hands drop into his pockets. "Nothing, let's walk. Over there."

He nodded towards the tide pools, the place furthest away from everybody else. I swallowed hard. If I were an ordinary high school girl and if he were an ordinary high school boy, I would be hoping for some romantic liaison on his part right then. But neither of us was ordinary and he was definitely not a high school boy. I had to work hard to get a hold of my wayward imagination. Even if he didn't find me repulsive, it didn't mean he was interested in me in that way. Besides, that line of thinking could get me into trouble.

I paused to take off my shoes and socks. I had this rule about always walking on the beach barefoot. Cade lifted a brow and followed suit. Even his bare feet were attractive. I shook that thought off as quickly as I would a wandering spider. We walked in silence for a while, listening to the waves crash along the shore. I could see why Cade would choose this place to calm his anger. The ocean was soothing; the primitive heartbeat of the earth.

When Cade decided we were far enough away from the other beach goers, he turned and looked at me, his hands still tucked in his pockets. I studied him for a while, still awed by how tall he was. His clothes fit him well and his shoes dangled from the thumb of his left hand. I hadn't noticed his tattoos before; one on each arm, starting near his elbow and twining up to disappear beneath his shirt sleeves. Not surprisingly, they were Celtic in design, intricate, beautiful. It was then that I noticed the bandage on his arm. It wrapped around his wrist and went halfway up his forearm. Blotches of red bled through in many spots.

I darted my eyes up to his, the shock clear on my face. "What happened?"

He took a deep breath and turned his eyes, now a gray-green, towards the crashing waves. "Occupational hazard."

He turned back to me, grinning without showing any teeth. That action turned out to be just as effective as the Mojave sun on an ice cube.

"And, what exactly is your occupation?"

He started in without any preamble. After all, we both had our suspicions of one another. We had both admitted as much those few weeks ago when he had lured me into the swamp and I had taken on his challenge to start my own research.

"I have a duty to fulfill to one who is far more powerful than I. To regulate and control those creatures who don't follow the rules."

I blinked, and not because of the salty spray which had just suffused the air.

"Basically, I am in charge of capturing the Otherworldly creatures that do not belong in this world. Or to punish those who have broken the rules in the Otherworld. I am, in a sense, the Otherworldly Police. Or, if you prefer something a little more dramatic, you could call me a faelah bounty hunter."

I snorted, but not because I didn't believe him. Hadn't I seen him in action that night I had wandered into the swamp in my pajamas? I just thought the term _Otherworldly Police_ sounded a bit ridiculous.

"And that is how you hurt your arm?"

He nodded and we fell back into nonverbal companionship.

"I'm sure you have many more questions Meghan. Do not be afraid to ask me, for I intend to tell you more than you probably wish to know."

I swallowed. Hard. That sounded rather daunting. I didn't want to know everything, I knew I didn't, but from the look Cade was giving me, I knew he planned on telling me anyways. Taking a breath, I asked the question that had been bothering me from the beginning: "How did you know my name?"

He cocked his head to the side and smiled. "The internet."

That time I really did laugh out loud. "Seriously?"

He nodded. That was getting annoying.

"It isn't hard to find information on people these days."

"But why did you _want_ to find information on me in the first place?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "Your home, Meghan, is very close to a gateway into Eile, the Otherworld. One I often use because of its convenient location in regards to my home on the other side, and because of how hidden and isolated it is. The scholars and historians call them dolmens, structures composed of rocks, forming a crude doorway of sorts. We Otherworldly folk call them _dolmarehn_. Not too far off the modern term, but if you want to say things properly . . ."

He rolled his shoulders, and I nodded.

"Dolmarehn," I repeated the exotic word, trying it out on my tongue. It sounded creepy, like a word that might be found in a gothic poem.

"It was when I was passing through this dolmarehn that I first detected you. You see, when you spend time in the Otherworld, you absorb its magic. That magic lingers in your system for a while on the other side, here on earth. It wears off in time, almost like a residue, but it gives us extra powers, you could say. Mortals call it glamour. It also gives us the ability to shift our appearance or shape to a certain degree."

An image of Hobo Bob came to mind, hunched over with the face of a very old man.

Cade took a step forward, moving closer. He leaned his arm against the sheer side of the bluff just beside me and looked me in the eye. His were closer to that dark green now and I wondered what color my own eyes were.

"When this residue is still fresh in us, we can easily detect others like us. If the residue is old, then we have to be much closer to each other to recognize one another. You just happened to be passing by on the trail that day." He was quiet now, his voice barely audible over the waves.

"And, and, when was that?" I stammered. I felt like a fool, letting his close proximity bend me to his will.

"Several months ago. I kept an eye on you, did my own research. I was baffled, you see, for you give off a very strong aura, though I suspect you haven't been to Eile in a very long time. Meghan," he sighed and looked away for a minute, "like me, you are of the Otherworld. You are not human, but immortal. You are one of the Faelorehn."

-Twelve-

Answers

I think I might have blacked out for a split second, because the next thing I remembered, Cade was holding onto my shoulder as if I was going to fall.

"What?" I whispered, my attention not on him anymore, but fixated on the fascinating shells being washed up by the surf. The grainy sand suddenly felt rough against my bare feet and the underlying smell of fish and salt made my nose sting.

"Here, come sit down a little while," Cade murmured, somewhere a bit too close to my ear.

Unfortunately, I didn't have enough sense to protest. He sat me down on a large, flat rock, its surface warm from the sun, and took a seat next to me. For a while, we just watched the waves, Cade most likely afraid to set me off into a fit of denial or rage, me, well, I was just trying to get a hold of my swirling emotions. Disbelief, for what he had told me couldn't be true. Hilarity because, let's face it, it was ridiculous. And finally fear. I thought, despite everything else, my fear was the strongest.

I couldn't fully accept that what he had said wasn't true, however, for I had seen things with my own eyes and heard things with my own ears that proved the existence of this mythical Otherworld. Just that very day, had I not enticed a pinecone to fly off the ground of its own accord and smash into the back of Adam's head? But to be a part of it? To have emerged from such a place? To be immortal? I shivered. Despite my violent self-denial, deep down inside I knew it could be possible. After all, I had been found wandering all on my own when I was too young to have true memories, not a scrap of evidence to suggest who I was or how I had ended up in a sketchy section of Los Angeles by myself.

"Do you remember the three questions I asked you, that afternoon in the swamp?"

Cade's words were calm, soothing, as if the simple cadence of his voice could win my trust. It was working.

I nodded, swallowing before speaking, "If I had heard voices or seen strange things, if I had ever had premonition dreams, and," I paused and looked up at him, his now gray eyes calculating, "and if my eyes had a habit of changing color."

He nodded and looked away. "All traits of someone with Faelorehn blood."

I let that digest for a moment, and then asked, "What exactly does it mean to be Faelorehn? And what do you mean, I'm immortal?"

Was it like being faelah? I hoped not. He had called those creepy little creatures that had attacked me and the corpse hounds faelah; surely to be Faelorehn meant something else entirely.

"The Faelorehn are the people of the Otherworld, the books and fairytales would call them fae, or faeries. We look very much like human beings, but as you know our eyes never settle on one color, we have heightened senses of the supernatural, and when we have visited the Otherworld for a length of time, our gifts become stronger in this world. It's almost like a battery Meghan. When we spend too much time here on earth, our powers are drained and we must return to the Otherworld to recharge."

"We?"

Cade picked up a stone and threw it into the ocean. It went far further than it should have been able to go with the force he had put behind it.

"Yes, _we_. You and I. We are both of the Otherworld; both Faelorehn, both destined to live forever if disease or violence doesn't claim our lives."

I had kind of already surmised that, so it wasn't a surprise to me. I moved on to other questions. "If I'm from the Otherworld, then why am I here? Why did someone abandon me in the middle of Southern California when I was so young?"

Cade cringed next to me. "I have a theory," he said. "I believe you are either the daughter of someone very important and they felt the only way to keep you safe was to send you far away. Or," he paused, casting me a softer look. "Or, you were unwanted, and there was no place for you in Eile."

Something in that second option must have had some significance to Cade, because he sounded almost pained by it; more pained than he should have sounded as someone simply delivering bad news. I wondered if he had ever been unwanted himself and my heart opened to him.

He sighed. "The only way to tell for sure would be to bring you to the Otherworld and try to discover your origins. But that is not an option right now. It could be dangerous, especially since you have no knowledge of the Otherworld."

"Can you teach me?" I asked, terrified and curious at the same time.

He turned and grinned. "Yes, to a point, but not today. So, tell me what you discovered from your research."

I started out by mentioning Fergus, since his current absence made me think of him.

"I read that Otherworldly animals are white with red ears. But," I thought about the other supernatural creatures; the gnomes, the Cumorrig, the raven . . . "not all the creatures I saw were white."

Cade nodded. "Fergus is a spirit guide. He is connected to me. Spirit guides are hard to find, but they remain attached to their Faelorehn companion for life. When the ancients saw an animal that was white with red ears, they knew it was Otherworldly because spirit guides are able to do things normal animals can't."

I tucked that information away: white animals with red ears were Otherworldly spirit guides.

I continued to tell Cade what I had learned about the Celts and their deities. He nodded, waiting for me to finish before he spoke again.

"Unfortunately, with our kind not everything is as it seems. The Otherworld is very similar to this one, parallel you could say, but on a different dimension; linked together but not dependent upon one another. We have plants and animals and everything you might find here, but our people are capable of shifting between the worlds. The Faelorehn and the faelah can come and go between this earth and the Otherworld, but human beings and the other denizens of this planet cannot enter our world."

I nodded, letting him know I still followed.

"Long ago, our people first discovered a way to enter into this place, through the dolmarehn. Many were built, both here and in our world. We discovered the relative weakness of humans and unfortunately, the most powerful of our kind exploited that weakness. They are the ones who cannot be killed, and they became gods and goddesses to the ancient people of northern Europe."

This made sense, if any of it could make sense. I had seen science specials on T.V. that tried to claim aliens were responsible for building the pyramids, so why couldn't the Faelorehn have slipped into our dimension and impressed early humankind with their supernatural strength?

"Someday I'll show you the dolmarehn that I most often use, but not today. The Otherworld is a dangerous place Meghan, even to one who belongs there, and if you don't know what to expect, it can kill you."

That sounded daunting. The small bits and pieces of the Otherworld I had seen in this world were terrifying enough. I nodded severely, letting Cade know I concurred. The last thing I wanted to do was go wandering around in a strange place full of various faelah.

Cade was silent for a few seconds, then he turned and looked at me. His skin took on the golden hue of the sun as it fell further towards the horizon. Some well buried instinct tried to coax me into reaching out and touching him, but fortunately my better sense squashed it before I made a fool of myself. Honestly, what had gotten into me?

"Are you well?" he asked.

I screwed my face up into an expression of confusion. Had he known what I had just been tempted to do?

"With all of this, I mean. I have just told you that you are a being from the Otherworld, that you do not truly belong here."

I simply nodded, unable to come up with a good response.

He shrugged. "Some people would not take it as well as you seem to be taking it."

"No," I finally managed, "it's a shock. To be honest, I don't think it's quite settled in yet. I still expect to wake up from some strange dream." I grinned and cast him a sideways glance. "I have lots of those, you know. Strange dreams."

He smiled and seemed to relax a little.

We watched the sun set before we got up to leave. The young couple was still there, but everyone else had left. As we headed back up the Mesa, I thought long and hard about what Cade had said. It made sense, in a perverse, twisted universe sort of way. If anything, it explained all the visions I'd had and all the voices I'd heard my whole life. The upside: it meant that I wasn't crazy. The downside: it meant I wasn't human. The mere thought made me light-headed. I wondered if I could come to accept that.

Cade's Trans Am rumbled up to the front of my driveway just as twilight was settling in. He put the car in neutral and got out to open the trunk. He handed me my backpack.

"I'll be in touch," he said. "There are a few errands I have to do; a few things I need to take care of in the Otherworld." He ran his hand through his thick hair again. A habit, I was beginning to realize, when he was worried about something. I found it endearing.

"We'll talk more about this when I return. Don't be afraid to use the oak tree again, and I'll ask Fergus to keep an eye on you."

I smiled, a warm glow spreading through my stomach.

Cade climbed back into his car and closed the door. "Oh, and Meghan," he said, calling out to me through the passenger side window, "one other thing you should know,"

"What's that? I'm a long lost princess?" I joked as I hiked my backpack up onto my shoulder.

Cade grinned and shook his head, "No."

I waited. Finally he took a deep breath and spoke, his voice hardly audible over the rumble of his idling car, "Stay away from the swamp as much as possible, and don't trust anyone who claims to be Faelorehn."

He gripped the steering wheel and gazed straight ahead, past the broken barbed wire fence and the sign that read _Dead End_ where our street met the horse path several yards away. "They know about you now, and I don't yet know what they might want with you."

I blinked, wanting very badly to ask him a dozen more questions, but he'd been sitting there for a while and his car was loud enough to draw attention from inside the house. The last thing I needed was a barrage of questions from curious family members.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out something attached to a thin leather string. He threw it through the window and somehow I managed to catch it.

"Keep that on your person at all times," he said.

I examined it. It looked like a wooden bead with some sort of ancient rune burned into it. "What is it?"

He smiled again, "Mistletoe."

I arched my eyebrow at him. Was he flirting with me? I felt my face flush.

"We Faelorehn use it to ward off evil spirits. The same way some people might wear garlic to frighten off vampires."

Nodding, I slipped it around my neck and tucked it under my shirt.

"Goodbye for now Meghan. When I get back, I'll tell you more of what I know and perhaps even teach you how to defend yourself against the faelah."

I took a step back and he shifted into gear. I watched for a while as his dark car disappeared around the first bend of our road, and listened until I could no longer hear its soothing rumble. Sighing, I walked up our short, sloping driveway and tested the front door. It was unlocked. The house was noisy as usual, with Mom making dinner and the boys attempting to do their homework, but failing miserably.

"There you are!" Mom proclaimed after testing the marinara sauce she had on the stove.

"Yeah, sorry. We had more research to do than I thought," I lied.

"Uh huh," she said, giving me a rather knowing look.

Confused, I said, "Bradley gave you my message, right?"

"Oh, yes, he gave me the message, but," she cast my father a glance. He was engrossed in the local news station, so she looked back at me, smiling. "I'm not surprised your research took longer than expected. From what I saw, I can't say I blame you."

For about ten seconds I was completely flabbergasted. What on earth was she talking about? Then I glanced through the window over the sink and realized that she had had a clear and unobstructed view of our driveway. I turned beet red.

"No, but, we really . . ." I stammered.

My mom laughed, then grabbed my elbow and pulled me deeper into the kitchen. "Oh come on! He was cute. What's his name?"

"Mom," I grumbled, completely mortified and eternally grateful my brothers couldn't hear us, "we were studying for an English assignment, really. It's not what you think."

Oh, if only she knew how far off the mark she was. But I couldn't tell her any of what Cade and I had discussed. She wouldn't believe me and it would only lead to more treatments for my insanity.

"Okay honey, if you insist." She winked and I grumbled something about more homework on my way downstairs.

I tried to get my homework done, I really did, but I couldn't stop thinking about everything Cade had told me. How did one come to terms with the fact that they weren't human? And what if I had been abandoned, unwanted by my real parents? Although my family loved me dearly, and I loved them, there was something painful about the knowledge of being cast aside by those who had created you to begin with.

I shivered. Maybe I had been wanted and had been sent to this world for my own protection. But if so, why had there not been a note of explanation and why hadn't anyone come to find me and tell me? No, I was sure I had been unwanted, for my birth family would have sought me out by now and I wouldn't have been discovered by some random Faelorehn guy tripping over me while trying to do his job.

Mom called down to tell me dinner was ready, and doing my best to compose myself, I went up and joined my family, feigning normal once again. I was good at it, after all.

That night as I lay in bed, contemplating the shambles that was currently my life, I wondered when I'd see Cade again. He had dropped a bombshell on me; there was no doubt about it. Immortal? Otherworldly? It was too mind-boggling to consider. I couldn't even imagine living for all eternity. The very though scared the crud out of me.

As the sounds of the day wound down and the silence of night fell over me, my mind continued to whir in thought. I needed to know more, so much more. I felt like a beginning swimmer, thrown into a stormy sea infested with sharks, barely able to keep my head above water. I pulled the mistletoe bead from beneath the old t-shirt I had put on before bed. The rune that was burned into the surface of the smooth wood was black and harsh, but it felt warm in my hand. Sighing, I tucked it back away, wondering if I would see more faelah the next day.

After hours of tossing and turning, I finally fell into a troubled sleep, terrified of what the future might hold. High school was hard enough, but I couldn't imagine what it was going to be like now that I knew I was definitely not like everybody else.

-Thirteen-

Attacked

A week passed before anything bizarre happened, and even then it wasn't much. Cade had stayed away like he said he would. I hadn't even seen him posing as Hobo Bob in the mornings or afternoons. Even when I happened to glance up from my homework in the dark of night, hoping to spot an enormous, ghost-like dog just outside my door, I was left seething in my own disappointment.

That was when I would remind myself that my only interest in Cade was purely an educational one: he knew the answers to my lifelong questions, and I simply wanted to know what those answers were. _Doesn't help that he's built like a pro athlete,_ a voice in my head whispered. _And he seemed pretty interested in you, if you ask me._

_Don't listen Meghan,_ another voice said, _you can't trust him. How do you know he isn't making up all this Otherworld nonsense in order to pull the wool over your eyes?_

Then the voices started to argue and I threw my math book across the room in frustration. It was a pretty bad sign when the voices inside your head started fighting with one another. I'm not sure what degree of crazy that made me. Regardless of what tricks my conscience was playing on me and whether I believed Cade had an ulterior motive or not, I needed to leave all options open until I had definite proof of what was true and what wasn't.

School that week was the same as it always was: the slow, grueling gauntlet all teenagers are forced to crawl through in order to pass on to adulthood. I was really quite surprised to learn that Adam and his friends seemed to be taking Cade's words to heart. I half expected to open my locker Tuesday morning and find some ominous threat, but as the week progressed, the worst I got from him and his cronies was a rude hand gesture or a nasty scowl. Sometimes I imagined they were planning revenge; quietly waiting until all signs proved that the guy with the black sports car was gone for good. Now I had another reason to wish for Cade to come back.

It was on my ride home the following Monday, exactly one week after my talk with Cade, that I noticed the raven again. Robyn was dropping me off at my house and my mind was still too caught up in thoughts of my unusual identity and the young man who had revealed it to me to notice anything out of place.

"Hey Meg, what're you doing Saturday?" Robyn asked through the passenger side window.

I shrugged. "Sleeping in hopefully."

"Want to go to the old post office in Halcyon with us? We were thinking about getting some Christmas shopping done."

I thought about it for a moment. The Halcyon post office was one of our local hidden gems, an old mail building turned gift shop from when the town was first established about a hundred years ago. Although it still functioned as a post office for the small community of Halcyon, it also offered an eclectic collection of incense, chimes, home-crafted jewelry and apparel, independent books and, to Robyn's delight, plenty of artifacts that appealed to her more unique tastes. _And,_ I thought as Robyn awaited my answer, _it will give me a chance to do something other than wonder when Cade is coming back . . ._

I shrugged my backpack further up onto my shoulder. "Sure. What time were you thinking about going?"

"We'll pick you up at ten."

I grinned and waved Robyn on, watching as her car puttered around the corner. It was then that I spotted the raven out of the corner of my eye, sitting on a high eucalyptus branch. If I hadn't known any better I would've sworn it was whispering to something clinging to the side of the tree. Wait, I _did_ know better. The raven was from the Otherworld, I knew that for certain. That meant it was at least as intelligent as Cade's dog. A memory surfaced then, something I had read during my research. Something about the Morrigan and ravens . . . Ah, that was it. One of the Morrigan's symbols was a raven. Could this bird belong to a Celtic goddess? I snorted. Now _that_ was a stupid thought. That would mean that a goddess was interested in me. No, it just had to be another Otherworldly creature, drawn to my Faelorehn presence.

Doing my best to drive away my sudden nervousness, I narrowed my eyes and watched the large bird. The creature it 'spoke' to looked somewhat like a squirrel, but its tail was more like a rat's and its face was, in a word, grotesque. Strange, I didn't even notice that it was bright red until after I observed those other details.

I blinked and suddenly found two sets of eyes upon me; the raven's dark red ones and the demented squirrel's yellow ones. Shivering, I clutched my binder and spun on my heel, walking up my driveway as swiftly as possible.

* * *

I didn't see any other strange Otherworldly things for the rest of the week and on Saturday morning Robyn pulled up in her small car with Tully.

"Where are Thomas and Will?"

"Band practice," Robyn answered with a sniff.

I smiled and climbed in the back with Tully.

"What am I, your chauffeur?" Robyn asked as she twisted around to look at us.

I smiled. "Yup."

"Whatever."

Tully laughed as Robyn hit the gas. She always drove too fast. We never said anything to her about it because the last time we did she got mad and drove faster. If it hadn't been for the speeding ticket she'd received five minutes later, I'm sure she would have forgiven us by the end of the day. Instead, she spent a whole week giving me and Tully the cold shoulder. It was a really calm week.

Robyn pulled onto Highway One and quickly bypassed the speed limit as we headed into town. She pushed a CD into her car stereo and soon we were listening to the shrill screech of the latest punk band she was into. Ten minutes later we pulled into the quiet dirt parking lot of the tiny post office. I stretched my back once I was out of the car and eyed the newest stained-glass peace sign hanging from the store's window. I smiled. It would be nice to have a weekend jaunt with my two best friends that didn't involve running from faelah or stressing over an identity crisis. Of course, the day was still young.

I looked back towards the store, seeking a distraction from my wayward thoughts. The post office itself was a minute, old Victorian home that had seen its share of wear and tear. It was painted brick red with a large wooden sign bearing its name written in a dated script perched above the door. A set of concrete steps stood in place of a wooden porch and a planter full of exuberant succulents spilled onto the walkway.

We shuffled our way to the front door, an elderly lady giving us a kind grin and mumbling something about 'darling girls' as she walked past. When she saw Robyn, however, she stopped and stared. Robyn, in her old army boots, black fishnet tights, tattered mini jean skirt and t-shirt featuring a skull and cross bones, only made a face and flashed a popular rock and roll hand gesture as the poor old woman gave her a wide berth.

"Robyn, do you have to be so crass?" Tully hissed as the tiny bells hanging above the door jingled.

"Oh come on!" Robyn snorted. "If you are going to shop at this store, then you shouldn't be shocked to see a genuine pagan just outside of it!"

"You're not a genuine pagan," I said without thinking.

Both Robyn and Tully stopped and looked at me as if I had sprouted mushrooms all over my face. But I couldn't blame them. Out of everyone in our small group of friends, the boys included, I was probably the one who was the least interested in Robyn's 'religion'. Sure, I went to her celebrations and took part, but everyone knew it was only for Robyn's sake that I did it. Of course, that was all before I had met Cade, done my research on the Celts or learned that I was one of the Faelorehn . . .

Robyn crossed her arms and gave me her most condescending look. "Come again?"

I took a deep breath, getting a good sampling of the eighteen thousand types of incense the cashier had burning, and shrugged my shoulders. "I was just kidding. Jeesh, don't be so sensitive."

Robyn shrugged and headed to where the crystals were located, but Tully stuck by me. To my great relief, no one dug further into my bizarre remark.

We spent a good thirty minutes poking around the dusty little store. I made sure to look at everything, in case I found something my brothers might like. I didn't think any of them would be interested in Tarot cards, glittering statues of fairies or books on how to find your inner Chi, but I did find a nice pair of amethyst earrings that my mom would love.

At some point in time Tully decided to join Robyn in the crystal section of the store and I wandered back over to the books. I wasn't looking for anything in particular, just wasting time until my friends were ready. As my eyes passed over the spines of the books, they froze on one title in particular: _Irish Folktales_.

Looking up to make sure Robyn and Tully were still distracted in the opposite corner, I slid the book out and flipped to the table of contents. A list of stories, all having names that looked impossible to pronounce, glared back at me. A few of the names I recognized from what Cade had told me and from what I had seen on my website search. I closed the book and looked at the cover. I almost dropped it as my heart leapt into my throat. A few months ago, I would have thought nothing of it. I would have admired the fine Celtic knot work before returning it to the shelf. But this image seemed too familiar to me. It was a stone carving of what looked like a wild man, and at his side was a wolfhound. Cade and Fergus came immediately to mind and I hurriedly flipped back to the copyright page to see who the image depicted.

_Cuchulainn_ was all it said. Cuchulainn? That name didn't look familiar. I would have to check those sites again and make a note to visit the library.

I closed the book and looked up to see what my friends were doing. Still distracted by the crystals. Good. As nonchalantly as possible, I slinked over to the cash register where a tall lady with fading strawberry blond hair looked up at me over her glasses.

"Hello there, all ready?"

"Sure," I said as quietly as I could.

If Tully and Robyn saw me purchasing a book on Irish myth, I wouldn't be able to brush them off so easily. I would have to explain to them why I would want such a book. I decided early on, when my life started barrel-rolling out of control, that they wouldn't know about who, no, _what_ , I was unless absolutely necessary.

The woman slipped the book and the amethyst earrings into a bag as I nervously drummed my fingers against the glass counter. When she gave me a questioning look, I smiled and forced my fingers to stop. Instead, I pretended to admire the knickknacks that sat locked away beneath the counter. I paid the lady, then stuffed my bag into my purse and walked over to Tully and Robyn.

"You guys done?"

"Yeah, I think I'll wait on the crystals," Robyn said.

Tully lifted up a stained-glass candle holder. "Think I'm going to get this."

Before either of them could ask my opinion, I said, "Okay, I'll just wait outside if it's alright with you two."

They shrugged and I headed straight for the door. A few minutes later they joined me in front of Robyn's car.

"So did you find anything for your brothers?" Tully asked.

Drat. "Um, nope. But I found some nice earrings for my mom."

"Oh really, can I see?"

Double drat. "Hang on."

I turned away as I rifled through my purse. I slipped my hand into the bag and managed to remove the small box without removing the book with it.

"They're amethyst," I offered with a grin, relieved that my new book would remain a secret.

As my friends admired the earrings, I cast a glance at the old walnut trees growing in the vacant field next to the store. I half expected to see the raven again or some other creepy crawly, Otherworldly thing, but luckily the only thing I saw was a calico cat sitting patiently over a gopher hole.

Tully handed me my box and we piled back into Robyn's car. I opted to sit in the front seat this time.

"I didn't get any Christmas shopping done in there," Robyn griped. "How about a trip into town?"

"Sounds good to me," Tully offered.

Robyn arched a black eyebrow at me. I shrugged. "Hey, I have five brothers and the only thing they want for Christmas is candy, video games and toys. Can't get any of those things at a local gift shop that caters to the spiritual crowd."

"Okay, town it is." Robyn grinned and pulled back out onto the road.

The rest of the day passed by in a whirlwind of store hopping, lunch at a local diner and an afternoon spent lazing in the park in Arroyo Grande's old village square. The Village was probably one of the most popular hangouts for those who attended both the local public high school and Black Lake High. With its diverse collection of old vintage shops, a cafe, an old-fashioned ice cream parlor and plenty of mom and pop restaurants, it was the place to waste time on a nice winter afternoon.

When we'd had enough of lying around in the sun, Tully, Robyn and I crossed back over the Village's famous swinging bridge to the side street where we had parked. The cables creaked in protest as we crossed over the small canyon the Arroyo Grande creek had carved out, and when I reached the middle of the bridge I paused to look over the edge. I had always had slight acrophobia, but I felt secure enough to lean against the edge of the bridge and peer over.

"C'mon Meg!" Robyn called out from the other end. "I promised my mom I'd babysit tonight!"

Letting loose a sigh of contentment, I moved to straighten from my bent position. Unfortunately, I never got as far as fully standing up. Three things happened at once. First, I heard Tully and Robyn screaming my name and telling me to watch out. Secondly, I remember hearing them and registering that they were concerned about something. And the final thing I remember before nearly being thrown over the side of the bridge was the presence of some great shadow just behind me.

The shadow slammed into me with a force equivalent to a football player intent on tackling me. Yet, it didn't feel like it had made contact; it was more like the force of a shockwave spreading over me. It made my ears ring and I had definitely felt it, but it hadn't been enough to throw me over the bridge. Tully and Robyn were screaming, my shoulder and the left side of my body felt like it had been beaten with a baseball bat, and my fingers hurt from clinging to the chain link railing of the safety fence of the swinging bridge. I felt dizzy, confused and terrified all at once. Only when I heard a low, angry grumble did I think to look up. Blinking away my fear, I just caught a glimpse of a huge black shape as it disappeared into the canopy of the trees lining the creek.

My stomach lurched. No, it couldn't be . . . But another harsh, angry caw confirmed my suspicions. The raven. Had it just tried to _kill_ me? Why? For what purpose?

The pounding of Robyn and Tully's feet as they came running up to me sent all my questions scattering away. I would definitely be talking to Cade about this. That is, if I ever saw him again.

"What the _hell_ was that?!" Robyn breathed as she tried to find the raven in the treetops.

"Come on Meg, let's get off this bridge." Tully was pulling on my arm, but my weak legs were having trouble moving.

"Was that a crow? A vulture? It was way too big . . ." Robyn was saying as she hurried along behind us.

"I don't know," I barely managed as I clutched my shoulder. It hurt where the raven had hit me, but already the pain was fading away.

We made it to the car in record time.

"Whatever it was, it looked like it was trying to knock you over the bridge," Tully muttered.

I shrugged. I knew that was exactly what it had been trying to do. For weeks the bird had been spying on me and now that I knew Otherworldly beings, faelah, existed, I had no reason to second guess my first instincts. But there was no way I was going to tell my friends.

"Let's just get home before we're attacked by any other mutant birds."

I nodded my agreement and soon we were heading back towards the Mesa, silent in thought the entire way.

That evening I made sure my sliding glass door was locked before I went to bed. As I tried to get myself to fall asleep, I sent up a secret prayer that Cade would come back soon and teach me how to defend myself against the supernatural creatures that for some reason or another, wanted me dead.

-Fourteen-

Smitten

The winter break came swiftly and as the weather grew cold and wet, I found myself spending much of my time indoors with my brothers, most often playing their video games or some of the board games we had stored away. Ever since that day in the Village, I had been reluctant to spend any time outside. Cade still hadn't indicated he was back from his business in the Otherworld, and until I had someone who could show me how to avoid being annihilated by some demented, supernatural demon, I was going to stay out of their way.

When I wasn't distracted with my brothers, I was down in my room, reading through the book I had found at the store in Halcyon. It turned out that Cuchulainn was some sort of godlike hero from ancient Ireland who was famous for outsmarting and outplaying his opponents during any challenge. He made me think of some sort of Celtic version of Hercules or Achilles. Although the book provided me with an interesting read, it wasn't the best source for the information I sought. Even my few visits to the local library proved fruitless. It was time I got back to my internet searches.

I spent my mornings and sometimes my evenings reading everything I could find on the Celts, and especially the Otherworld. One site informed me that the people of Ireland considered caves, hills and lakes to be portals to the Otherworld. That got me thinking about the dolmarehn Cade had told me about. I scrolled through another few sites, all of them telling me the same things over and over again. I already knew the Celts were a tribal culture, that the druids acted as their priests and performed the pagan rituals; that they believed the barrier between our world and the Otherworld was more permeable on Samhain. I had already read all of this before. What I wanted to know was what was it like in the Otherworld? What sort of abilities did the Faelorehn possess? And most importantly, why did it seem like the faelah were after me and what could I do to defend myself?

Cursing silently, I closed the page I was on and crossed my arms in a huff. Research was leading me around in circles. I wasn't going to learn anything new or relevant. What I needed was a nice long conversation with Cade. Where was he? What was taking him so long to get back to me? My frustration was growing worse by the day, and soon I was going to go crazy locked up inside the house, afraid to leave in case the faelah were waiting just outside the door.

The next morning, I woke up early and padded over to my sliding glass door. This had become a habit of mine, and every morning I hoped to see some sign of Cade's return. The oak tree was just visible over the edge of our yard and as I traced the outline of its trunk in the gray light of pre-dawn, a shape stepped out from behind it. I nearly jumped through the glass in my surprise. _Fergus!_

I threw on a sweatshirt, unlocked my door and slid it open without a second thought of ravens or faelah waiting for me in the shadows. I slipped on some sandals and hurried down the slope that led to the tree.

Fergus released a small bark and pressed his front paws against the trunk of the oak tree. I felt like hugging him, but my eagerness at finding a note from Cade outweighed my joy at seeing his dog. His _spirit guide_.

I hurried over and pulled the parchment out of the knothole. With nervous fingers, I unrolled it.

_Meghan,_

_Now that you've had adequate time to allow the truth of who and what you are to sink in, I feel you are ready to meet with me again. Please join me in the clearing tomorrow morning if you are able._

_Sincerely,_

_C.M._

I read it again, twice, and then clutched the note to my chest. Fergus released a small whine and I looked down at him, blushing like an idiot. He eyed me curiously, that strange intelligence of his sparkling in those brown eyes. Could he somehow relate my behavior back to Cade? I hoped not. I folded the note and stuck it in my back pocket, whistling all the way back to my house.

* * *

There was a light rain the next morning, but I wasn't going to let the gloomy weather keep me from my plans. Finally I was going to see Cade and finally I should get some more answers. After grabbing a quick breakfast and fending off my attention-seeking brothers, I told my parents I was going for a walk and headed out the door.

"Where are you going in this weather?" my dad asked.

I froze. "Um, just down into the swamp."

Mom furrowed her brow and looked up at me over her magazine. "The swamp? Since when have you enjoyed going down there?"

I cringed. I never showed any true interest in it before, so her question was a legitimate one. "Since I spotted some neat trails on my way home from school once," I responded, cringing at my fabricated reasoning.

Both my parents looked at me as if I had gone crazy. Well, _crazier_.

"Hiking trails?" they both said together.

"Yeah," I waved my hand around, the sleeve of my lime-green rain jacket flapping against my wrist, "it's really nice down there. You should check it out sometime."

My parents looked slightly baffled, but they both shrugged it off and got back to reading their magazines.

"Okay, well have fun honey and be careful," Mom finally said.

Hardly believing I made it out of that one with my intelligence intact, I scurried through the front door and walked down to the road. I squeezed past the _Dead End_ sign and began my descent into the swamp. I made sure I could feel the can of pepper spray in my pocket and kept my senses alert. Halfway to my destination it started raining again. Most of the moisture was caught and stopped by the eucalyptus trees above, but by the time I had the clearing in my sights, rain drops speckled my raincoat like chicken pox.

Cade was waiting for me, Fergus standing loyally beside him. My heart skipped a beat and I had to squash my sudden nervousness. What was wrong with me?

Cade had on the black trench coat I remembered from before, hood flipped up. He had what looked like two walking sticks in one hand and a couple of long pouches in the other. As I moved closer, I noticed that the pouches had feathery branches sticking out of them. No, not branches: arrows. I eyed the staves he was holding. A long string looped around the top of each of them and trailed loosely to the ground. Oh. Bows. I thought bows were supposed to be curved . . .

I'm sure the look I gave him held puzzlement, because he smiled. He had smiled at me before, that time at the beach when he told me what I was and a few times before that, but I had never noticed the small dimple before. Suddenly, my legs felt slightly weak and I forgot all about my irritation at his long absence or all those questions I was going to ask.

I cleared my throat and pointed at the bows, taking my eyes away from his. "Um, shouldn't those be curved?"

Cade laughed lightly and it didn't do anything to help my posture. Cursed, weak legs . . .

"They will be," was all he said.

He set the quivers and the smaller bow aside and abruptly placed the stringed end of the bow against one foot, passing it behind his other leg. Then, using his right leg for support, he bent the bow and slipped the other loop into place. When he stepped out of the bow, it looked the way it should.

"The wood is what gives it its flex."

He demonstrated by pulling the string back but not releasing it. "The strongest yew wood available."

It was rather impressive, I had to admit.

"So," I said, clearing my throat, "you called me down here to play Robin Hood? Because I actually had a few questions for you, well, more than a few, but what I need to know most is why am I being stalked by a raven that wants to kill me?"

The light in Cade's eyes faded and his jaw tightened. He nodded infinitesimally and sighed. "I know about the raven and what happened on the bridge," he said, "that's why I've brought the bows. We're starting your training right away."

Training? But I was more curious about how he knew about the raven, so I asked him.

Cade merely shot a quick glance at Fergus. Ah, so maybe he could communicate telepathically with his dog. But how had Fergus known? Had he been following me too? I decided that at this point, it was probably best just to believe anything was possible.

Cade leaned his own bow up against a tree and reached for the smaller one, apparently done with the Q and A portion of our conversation. "It is much more convenient to fight any faelah creatures when you can pick them off from a distance."

He handed the bow out to me, smiling again as he did so. He really needed to stop doing that. I figured I was going to have a hard enough time stringing the bow. It wouldn't help if my legs were perpetually turning into jelly.

Cade showed me how to string and unstring the bow and although it was a struggle, I managed on my own after awhile. He had to step in close to me for the first several times and although his closeness made my heart beat in my throat, I won't say I didn't enjoy it.

After our bows were strung, Cade pulled out two pairs of special gloves he told me should always be worn when practicing archery. Mine were much smaller than his, but they fit me perfectly.

"Now, the arrows that we'll be using are practice ones. I'll bring you some rowan wood arrows next time."

"Rowan wood?"

Cade nodded as he nocked one of his arrows. "Rowan helps ward against evil."

I nodded. I guess I hadn't done enough research after all.

Silence followed Cade's explanation as he focused and drew his bowstring far enough back that the feathers of the arrow brushed his cheek. He must have come early because about a hundred yards away I noticed an old piece of cloth pinned against a grassy berm, its center painted with a red and white target.

I waited patiently as Cade breathed deeply, focusing on his task. Fergus panted beside us and the light rain had become an annoying drizzle. Finally, Cade released the arrow and the bowstring splattered moisture on both of us. The arrow flew straight, whooshing through the air and lodging deeply into the center of the target.

I felt my jaw drop. _That_ was impressive. I looked at Cade, my eyes wide, but he merely gazed at the distant target, his face looking slightly grim as he nodded once and reached for another arrow.

"You will not always have that much time to focus on your target, so it is important that you learn to shoot quickly."

I gaped at him. That was it? No smile or grunt of approval? If he had been any of the jocks at my high school he would be crowing as loudly as he could, trying to draw the attention of every female within a mile radius to come see his impressive feat of masculinity. But Cade wasn't like those guys at school. No, he wasn't like them at all . . .

"Meghan?"

I snapped out of my daydream. "Huh?"

"Are you ready to try?"

"Uh, yeah." I bit my lip and gripped my bow. _Time to focus Meghan. You don't want to end up shooting your new friend or yourself in the foot._

Cade handed me an arrow, then shocked me by stepping behind me and putting his left hand on my forearm and his other hand over the one I was using to grip the bowstring. I swallowed and forced myself to breathe through my nose. He could easily rest his chin on the top of my head if he wished, and I almost thought he was going to.

"Now," he murmured, just loud enough for me to hear him.

He was so close I could feel the vibration of his voice in his chest; the heat coming off his body. I gulped down my nervousness.

"Nock the arrow first and use your left hand, the one gripping the bow, as a rest for the arrow. Your glove will protect your hand. Hook your first three fingers over the string, keeping the nock of the arrow between your index and middle finger."

Carefully, he used his own hands to guide mine. His touch was gentle, but reassuring, and it took every fiber of muscle in my legs to keep my knees from buckling.

He tightened his right hand over mine.

"Now, draw the string back as far as you can. For now, don't draw it all the way to your cheek."

Cade pulled the string back with me, only bringing it to a point just in front of my nose. As I waited for his next instruction, I took advantage of his close proximity. Although he didn't quite touch me, I could feel his presence mere inches away from my back. The pleasant earthy scent that always accompanied him filled my senses and the rhythm of his calm breathing almost kept pace with my heartbeat. Unfortunately, my heart was trying to run a marathon right then.

"Keep your arms steady and keep a hold of the arrow."

Slowly, he released my arm and hand, backing away to leave me standing on my own. A pang of disappointment and longing followed after him, but I stubbornly reminded myself that he was trying to teach me archery in order to defend myself against the creepy crawlies of the Otherworld. An image of the little gnomes that had chased after me a handful of months ago and the memory of my near-death experience on the swinging bridge forced my focus back onto the task at hand.

"When I say so, release the bowstring."

Cade gave me the signal and I let loose the string. It slapped against the leather of my other glove and the arrow went sailing, though not nearly as far as his own.

I slumped my shoulders in disappointment. How pathetic I must look to him.

"Good!" Cade called from behind me.

I turned around and looked at him, my eyebrows raised. "Really?"

He smiled again, curse him. "Your arrow flew forward, didn't it?"

For a while I felt that tingle of self-consciousness again, but when I gave him a closer look, I realized he was teasing me.

I gasped in mock outrage and crossed my arms. He only laughed.

"We'll just stick to archery today. Later, we'll get into hand to hand combat. But if you can take your enemy out with an arrow, that would be best. Some of the creatures of the Otherworld have poisonous skin and horns that could really hurt you if they get a hold of you."

I shivered at the thought of those little gnomes or that red demon-squirrel clinging to my legs or wrapping their arms around me. I was pretty sure they wouldn't be as gentle or smell as good as Cade.

We spent the remains of the morning plunking arrows into the target. Cade played the role of the perfect instructor, never being too hard on me and never trying to sugar-coat my ego. We kept our conversation strictly business: only questions about archery and defense against Otherworldly creatures. I wanted so badly to ask him normal every day questions, like who his parents were, if he ever went to school in the Otherworld, what kind of music he liked. If he had a girlfriend . . .

I bit my lip and got back to aiming an arrow. I told myself that this was not the time to ask such questions, but if I was being honest, it was only because I was afraid to ask him. He might think I was nosy or give me answers I didn't want to hear.

Cade walked me home after our practice, well, he walked me to the oak tree we used as our own personal mail box, but in my mind it was as good as walking me home. He stopped and leaned against the tree and I turned to face him. He looked pensive, as if his mind was a world away. I laughed inwardly. It probably was a world away, or an Otherworld away.

I cleared my throat and decided to break the awkward silence. "I appreciate all you are doing for me, really I do. But I still have a lot of questions, you know."

He nodded, but didn't move from where he stood. The bows, both unstrung, he had leaned against the tree and the quivers with them.

"I can't answer all of your questions Meghan, but I will answer those that I'm permitted to."

I thought that was weird. "What do you mean those that you are permitted to?"

He winced, so insignificantly that I almost didn't see it, and then let out a worrisome sigh. He met my eyes, his own dark green and shifting towards brown. "It's complicated," he said.

Oh, like I hadn't heard _that_ excuse before. I crossed my arms and arched my brow. His grin didn't help in my determination to look domineering.

He pushed away from the tree and stepped forward, stopping a foot away from me and forcing me to crane my neck back to see his face. I couldn't imagine anyone not permitting him to do anything.

"Okay, fine, what about the raven then. It tried to push me over the edge of a bridge. I know it is Otherworldly because it has been following me."

Cade blanched and took a step back. I took that as a bad sign.

"You are correct in surmising the raven is Otherworldly. It is an enemy and you need to avoid it at all costs."

I didn't like the sound of that. "Why? Why is it trying to kill me?"

Cade shrugged and actually looked guilty. "I don't know yet. All that I know is that it plans on trying again."

Before I could demand that he tell me how he knew all this, I heard Bradley's voice call out from our backyard somewhere.

"Meghan! Is that you down there?"

Cursing, I turned to see if my annoying brothers had been spying. Apparently Bradley had only heard my voice. I turned to address Cade one last time, but he was already ducking behind the oak tree. He had grabbed his bow and quiver, but not mine. I arched a brow at him.

"Keep them Meghan. In case you need them."

And then he and Fergus slipped into the woods the way a garter snake disappears into a field of tall grass.

I gazed at the bow and quiver. Where on earth was I going to store these where my parents and brothers wouldn't find them? I decided to hide them behind the tree for now. I would clean out a spot in the back of my closet where no one, me included, ever went. If I were to take them up right now, my brothers would see them for sure and the questions would never cease.

Sighing, I trudged up the hill and called out ahead of me so Bradley would hear, "Yeah, just got back."

I still had plenty of questions that hadn't been answered, and I was slightly annoyed that I had let Cade charm me out of my common sense, but what was done was done. I would just have to be careful not to let myself get so beguiled next time. _Just don't look into his eyes Meghan; don't look at his mouth when he smiles. Focus on something else._

But I knew now more than ever that there wasn't a single place on Cade MacRoich that wouldn't leave me gaping like a groupie at my first concert. Perhaps it was that Otherworld glamour he had mentioned that made him so irresistible. Or maybe I was just a complete and utter fool.

-Fifteen-

Confession

The New Year passed and along with it the remains of the winter season. I didn't see Cade for weeks after our break, but I had the memory of spending time with him in the swamp to keep me warm during those cold days. I had hidden the bow and arrows in the back of my closet, just as I had planned, then got back to my routine of checking the oak tree on a daily basis. Okay, maybe more like an hourly basis. Three days after our practice, I found two old, leather-bound books at the base of the tree with a note attached to them.

_Meghan,_

_Here are some Celtic legends that get as close to the truth as possible. The rest you will have to learn over time and perhaps one day when you are ready to come to the Otherworld, you will finally know everything._

_C.M._

Of course, the gift made me giddy and I immediately dove into the books. The first one was a saga about a great battle between the native beings of Ireland, the Fomorians, and another group that arrived later, the Tuatha De Danann. The writing was archaic and dry, but I forced myself to finish it, making note of the characters and their roles.

The second book Cade had left me was a little more interesting (about a war started over a cow of all things). I think this one stuck with me more because it featured Cuchulainn, the hero on the cover of the Irish Myths book I had picked up on the shopping spree with Tully and Robyn. In that story, Cuchulainn was called upon to fight an entire army. During a few of his exploits he even came face to face with the Morrigan.

It was late when I finally got tired of flipping through the books. They hadn't answered all of my questions, well, at least not the ones I wanted answers to, but they had given me a better taste of what I might be dealing with. I was starting to seriously reconsider the idea that the raven stalking me might be a minion of the Morrigan's. I had dismissed it at first because I didn't think I was important enough for a goddess to bother with. But now that I thought about it, maybe I was. After all, I didn't even know who I was, at least not in Otherworldly terms. Cade had only told me I was Faelorehn, a being from the Otherworld and he himself admitted that he didn't know everything about me.

I sighed and flipped my pillow over, seeking the cool side. It was hard to sleep when I was trying to solve a great mystery and I didn't even have all the clues. I would simply just have to wait for Cade to return and demand answers this time. No more letting him distract me with his good looks and archery skills. It was time he started explaining a few things, and I didn't care how 'complicated' it was. There were some things I just needed to know (like why I was a target to begin with) before some demented Otherworldly faelah got the better of me.

* * *

I was left to my own devices for the next couple of weeks, and luckily I had school to distract me once again. Also, to my great relief, I didn't see a single faelah creature that entire time. Of course, it meant I didn't see Cade either. I grew restless and I was beginning to brush my friends aside whenever they'd invite me over.

Halfway through that second week, it dawned upon me that maybe I was growing obsessed with a guy that was darting in and out of my life like some self-propelled yo-yo. It wasn't healthy. Gritting my teeth and taking on a newly found determination, I told myself to forget about Cade MacRoich and to start living my life again. Who knew when he'd decide to visit this world again? Maybe I was Faelorehn, but I had been around humans long enough to know I enjoyed hanging out with my friends.

When Tully asked me if I wanted to come over that weekend for a movie with Robyn and the guys, I smiled and agreed without a second thought. The movie helped distract me, but it didn't erase everything I'd learned in the past few months. And if I was being completely honest with myself, I didn't want to forget everything, especially not Cade.

I sighed and eyed my clock, secretly wishing that my reflective thoughts would go away. It was almost midnight on a Sunday and I had school in the morning. But I couldn't sleep. I had tried doing some more Otherworld research earlier, but the websites just kept repeating the same old information over and over again. I read a few of the folk legends from my Irish Myths book, but when I started reading a story about Cuchulainn, I threw the book down on my desk and climbed into bed. The Irish hero reminded me too much of Cade.

I sighed heavily and felt the tears forming in my eyes. Who was I kidding? I missed Cade. I missed him terribly, and it was high time I stop lying to myself. Yes, I knew hardly anything about him and yes he was never around. But during those few hours we'd spent together, he hadn't belittled or avoided me. He hadn't glanced away in disgust. I know it seems silly, but I just knew that Cade MacRoich understood me; had seen me for who I was, and I was finally willing to admit that I had fallen for him. Hard.

* * *

One day after school, an entire month and a half since I'd last seen Cade, I decided to decline Thomas's offer for a ride home and I took the back way through the swamp. I wasn't worried about getting ambushed by Adam Peders or Michaela West; they hadn't bothered me since Cade had threatened Adam. A twinge of regret coursed through me, but I shook it off. _He may never come back again Meg. Time to get over this infatuation._ Of course, walking through the very woods where I had first met him wasn't the brightest idea. Oh well.

I should've been worried about running into faelah in the woods, but the truth of the matter was, I didn't care. I was tired of being afraid; tired of waiting for someone to give me answers. Huffing a deep breath, I hiked my backpack further up onto my shoulders and began the gentle climb up the equestrian trail. I kept my head down, allowing a stray curl to obscure my vision. It wasn't until I reached the old oak tree that I noticed the wolfhound. In fact, he had to yip at me before I passed him up. That only startled me into a small scream.

"Fergus!" I hissed, willing my heartbeat to slow.

The great white hound whined and gestured towards the tree. I had told myself I didn't care if Cade ever showed himself again. That was a lie. I could tell by the way my stomach fluttered and my knees grew wobbly. And all this at the prospect of getting a note from him.

I dropped my backpack and reached up into the tree, my fingers fumbling around for the knothole. My fingertips brushed parchment and I grabbed it, yanking a note free of its hiding place.

Quickly, I dropped back to the ground and broke the seal, not caring if I ruined it this time. My eyes darted across the page, and my heart felt like it was melting.

_Meghan,_

_I beg your forgiveness for staying away so long, but things have been unstable here in the Otherworld. I will be arriving in your world soon. I wish to discuss something of an important matter with you. I hope you have been well, and I hope to see you again soon._

_C.M._

I read the date and time he indicated on the note. Friday afternoon. Tomorrow. My heart leapt into my throat. I blinked up at Fergus, but he merely panted, his rusty colored ears perked backwards. How on earth was I going to get any sleep tonight?

* * *

Just as I'd predicted, I was tired the next morning from a night spent tossing and turning and daydreaming about Cade. I continued to struggle through my classes the next day, trying to stay focused, but all I could think about was a pair of changeable, green Faelorehn eyes and the confident smile that went with them. Finally, the bell announcing the end of class rang and I made a bee line for the field behind school.

Although Cade wasn't due for another hour or so, I went straight to the clearing in the swamp. Thomas had invited us over to hang out with him during his sister's Quinceañera and normally I would have gone, but I told him I already had plans. Everyone had eyed me suspiciously as if they thought I was lying. For once, I wasn't.

As I waited, I pulled at the bark from the old fallen eucalyptus I leaned against. My nerves were frazzled and my skin felt clammy. _Knock it off Meg!_ I told myself. _He's just a guy!_ If only.

Finally, the crack of brush sounded behind me and I whipped around. Trotting down the path that led deeper into the swamp was Fergus, followed by Cade. My heart stopped working for a few moments as I watched his tall, confident frame come into view. But something was wrong. He looked hunched over and as he moved closer, he seemed to stagger as he walked. Concern soon replaced my feeling of anticipation.

He chose to walk around the log instead of jumping over it, and came to stand several feet in front of me.

"Meghan," he breathed, his face breaking into a wide smile.

On any normal day, I would have melted into a puddle at his feet, for he sounded as if the sight of me standing there was the greatest thing in the world to him. But his appearance took the joy right out of the moment. He looked absolutely haggard; how I would have expected him to look had he truly been a homeless man and not simply pretending to be one. His hair, usually tousled but well cared for, looked greasy and unkempt. His eyes seemed empty and their color was so close to black I couldn't tell his pupils from his irises. Deep shadows painted the space beneath his eyes and his skin looked as pallid as death.

"Cade," I said, my voice pitched low, "what has happened to you?"

He winced, and even that small action looked painful. Fergus whined softly next to him.

Cade ran his fingers through his hair, that familiar action I had come to recognize as a sign of distress. I stood there, leaning against the fallen tree, not knowing what to do. I crossed my arms and watched him, waiting for some signal to either hug him or stay put. Hugging him would be ideal, but I wasn't brave enough to offer up that form of comfort. He glanced at the ground, took a breath as if to speak, then ran his hands through his hair again.

"What's wrong?" I asked again, trying to keep the quiver from my voice.

Something was clearly agitating him and I had a feeling that it had something to do with me. Hadn't his note said so? And if Cade, the Otherworldly bounty hunter/assassin extraordinaire was nervous, then I was nervous cubed, maybe even to the fourth or fifth power.

Finally he stopped running his hands through his hair and instead placed them on his hips, slouching a little. He wasn't facing me, but he turned his head to the side and finally gave me his full attention. I nearly fell over. His eyes were so haunted, and he looked even more run down than I had thought on first examination. What in the world, or more appropriately, what in the Otherworld had done this to him?

I pushed away from the log and slowly reached out my hand. Just as quickly I snatched it back to my side. What was I thinking? A fleeting image of me walking up to him and placing my hand gently on his face to comfort him flashed in my mind, followed by a similar image of him taking me in his arms to help soothe his troubled thoughts. Ridiculous. I might have a major crush on him, but that didn't mean he returned those feelings.

He sighed and looked away again, his impressive height and bulk seeming to diminish.

"I discovered some troubling information, that's all."

_That's all?_ Troubling information? What did that mean and how could he refer to it so nonchalantly if he was behaving this way because of it?

"What kind of information?"

He nodded. "About you."

That shook me. I knew he had wanted to discuss something of importance with me, but I had no idea it would be construed as troubling. I gaped at him, suddenly feeling light-headed.

"Wh-what do you mean? Troubling? How is it troubling? Is someone else after me? Are there more faelah looking for me?" I babbled.

Cade stepped closer, reaching out a hand, and for a split-second I thought he might actually act on that fantasy I'd envisioned earlier. But he stopped short and pulled his hand into a fist, letting it drop to his side. He bowed his head and took a deep breath.

"What I learned is that you may be the daughter of a Tuatha De Danann and a Fomorian."

I blinked. Huh? Why was that troubling exactly? I recalled the story of the great battle between the Tuatha De and the Fomorians and how most of the Celtic pantheon was associated with the Tuatha De. I knew, according to my internet searches and from the books Cade had given me, that there were a few Faelorehn descended from both lines and that they were often responsible for mischief, but really, I had no designs on upturning the Otherworld. Me? Wreaking havoc in a world of magical monsters and powerful gods? I almost nearly choked on a laugh. I couldn't even stand up to the school bullies and their only weapons were harsh words.

"I never discussed the Tuatha De Danann or the Fomorians with you," Cade said, almost apologetically.

I held up a hand. "The Fomorians are the magical natives of Ireland and the more demon-like of the two and the Tuatha De arrived during one of the invasions of Ireland. Most of the Celtic gods and goddesses are associated with the Tuatha De."

Cade actually smiled. "You have been doing your research, haven't you?"

That warmed me, despite the lingering chill of Cade's news.

"I don't understand," I finally said. "Why is that troubling? Isn't everyone in the Otherworld, well besides the faelah of course, either Fomorian or Tuatha De? And aren't some of them both?"

I was very confused, and terrified. Not necessarily because of this news, but because of the way Cade looked at me then, as if I were one of the grotesque little gnomes that had chased after me several months ago.

"It's troubling because when a Faelorehn child is born to one Tuatha De parent and one Fomorian parent, often times they come with at least one major character flaw that will surely lead into ruin."

Basically, he was telling me I was a ticking time bomb. My shoulders drooped and I fought the urge to cry. A cadre of thoughts buzzed through my head: _he said you may be a descendent of a Fomorian and a Tuatha De Meg, you_ may _be, nothing definite . . . and it's the twenty-first century for goodness' sake! People don't behave like barbarians anymore! Who knows, maybe your character flaw is the inability to act like a normal, socially obsessed, mall visiting, cell phone texting teen. Chin up!_

But of course, my mind decided to dwell on the one, single worst thought it could conjure: _of course you have a flaw, duh! This is why you were abandoned to begin with!_

I shook my head and cleared my throat. No need to panic. Yet. I looked up at Cade, hoping those weren't tears I felt swimming in my eyes.

"What do you mean by character flaw?" Annoying conscience or not, I wanted to know all the details.

Cade shifted his weight and crossed his arms. The late afternoon light only made his gaunt features more pronounced. I frowned in sympathy. What would he do if I tried to comfort him? Probably break my neck in one swift movement. I was flawed, remember? Just because he helped me before didn't mean he wanted to now. Not after learning I was half god, half demon.

"Do you remember the story of Bres?"

I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head, trying to recall. After a few seconds I nodded. "Led the Fomorians against the Tuatha De in the great battle of Maige Tuired." I had read it in one of the books he had given me.

Cade nodded. "His mother was Fomorian; his father Tuatha De. He made the mistake of claiming sovereignty through his mother's line, unbalanced the Celtic social structure, and therefore brought about war and mayhem. That is how the story goes, at least from the Celts' perspective. In truth, Bres's mixed blood gave him more power than most Faelorehn and he used it to drive a wedge between the two races of Eile. His flaw was arrogance, something that was only fed by his power."

I licked my lips. I could see how being arrogant and powerful could ruin a king and his kingdom. Had it not happened in earth's own history? But what sort of flaw could I possibly have that would lead to war? I almost snorted. Well, I knew for sure it wasn't arrogance.

"So, you're saying I'm going to somehow wreak havoc in the Otherworld because of a flaw I have?" How could I do that when I wasn't even _in_ the Otherworld?

Cade didn't speak.

I sighed. My initial fear had ebbed but I was still a bit jumpy. I told myself that just because I was half Fomorian and half Tuatha De didn't mean I had to follow in Bres's footsteps. Perhaps we could prevent any major catastrophes if I knew what to expect.

"Well, what is my character flaw then?" I asked, crossing my arms in an attempt to stop the nervous fluttering in my stomach.

Cade looked up. At least his eyes were looking less black and more jade now. "I don't know. You may already be displaying it, or it may be lying dormant, waiting for you to awaken it in the Otherworld."

Cade drew another long breath, letting it out slowly. "I know I said you weren't ready to visit the Otherworld, but I think you should know how to get there, just in case."

Wait, he was telling me my character flaw might come suddenly to life if I crossed over to the Otherworld and now he wanted to show me how to get there?

I must have had a look of bafflement on my face, because he snorted and said, "I know it seems even more dangerous now, knowing that you could very well have the potential to cause chaos in Eile. But the future seems uncertain from where I stand and I'm willing to take the risk."

What was he saying?

"If something happens here and I'm not around to help you, I want you to have another option."

Cade looked troubled; sad even. I felt another spark of fear course through me. Before I could say anything, he gestured for me to follow him back down the trail from where he had come. I went wordlessly, with Fergus trailing behind us.

Cade spoke as we walked, the quiet woods standing witness to our progress.

"I would rather take you to the Otherworld myself, but current circumstances forbid me from doing so. You would be helpless until you grew into your power, but that takes time. Yet I fear that if you remain here, should certain events come to pass, you would be more exposed to danger than if you were in the Otherworld. Until we know how your mixed blood is going to affect Eile, it is best to keep you safe and hidden. Some people would rather see you dead than risk learning whether or not you are a threat."

Cade stopped and turned to look at me. He placed his hands on my shoulders and caught my gaze. I shivered.

"I have told others about you, other Faelorehn whom I trust. They know to help you if you arrive in the Otherworld alone."

"But," I whispered harshly, my jumbled thoughts barely breaking through my shell-shocked mind, "why are you even helping me if I'm such a danger to the Otherworld?"

Cade sighed, one thumb lifting off my shoulder to gently graze my neck. It was through sheer willpower alone that I didn't fall against him. He looked off to the side, then squared his jaw and glanced back at me, his eyes flashing between green and black. "Not every Tuatha De-Fomorian Faelorehn brings harm upon Eile. It is when they are found by the wrong people and exploited that causes problems. If your power or flaw is strong Meghan, then you would make a very useful weapon to the wrong people. I'm hoping that we can avoid those people, but I might be too late."

His thumb stopped its caress but it stayed pressed against my neck. My mind and senses were on overdrive, but eventually coherent thoughts started bubbling to the surface. Why was Cade telling me this? What did he mean, if I arrived alone in the Otherworld and he might be too late? Why wouldn't he be the one to take me? Then it dawned upon me. His exhaustion, his haunted eyes, this little speech, the way he had brushed his thumb over my skin as if trying to comfort me . . . He was expecting someone to do harm to me, and not just a raven trying to knock me off a bridge or a pack of gnomes trying to scratch at my legs. He was expecting someone to bring down a war upon me or to take me and turn me into a monster, and he was planning to defend me. Defend me but not survive.

I must have cried out and lost my balance, because Cade's arm was now under my elbow, supporting my weight.

_No._ I wanted to scream. _No!_ I didn't want some demented army of faelah to kill me, and I didn't want Cade to die either. I started to cry for real this time.

"No Meghan, you must know how to get to the Otherworld."

He grabbed my arm, a little more roughly than usual, and practically dragged me along. We came to the end of the path and turned right, down a great gully carved from years of rain. The sand was smooth beneath my feet and our path was blocked by eucalyptus trees that had fallen victim to the eroded hillside.

Finally we came to the end of the culvert and Cade stopped. My arm would be bruised, but I didn't care. I was too upset; upset at too many things. I had just learned my true identity a handful of months ago and now I would be fighting for my life without the proper tools I needed. It was so unbearably unfair.

"Meghan," Cade said gently, gesturing towards a place in the canyon wall where several fallen trees had accumulated.

A dark hole in the side of the earth sat behind it, half hidden by strips of hanging bark and branches. A chill covered my body when I saw the cave and I quailed away from it.

"Although it is covered by the hillside," Cade was saying quietly as he stared at the black maw, "there is a dolmarehn there. If you enter this cave, it will take you to the Otherworld. But Meghan," he turned me towards him and grabbed my arms once more, gently this time. His voice was harsh when he spoke again, "you must promise me you will not enter the Otherworld unless you feel you have no other choice."

I nodded numbly.

"Promise me!" he hissed as he shook me.

"I, I promise," I whispered as a tear streaked down my cheek.

Just then, a stale, cold breeze poured from the cave, followed by the sound of distant murmuring. I thought my bones had frozen.

Cade stiffened. "I must go," he said with no emotion.

Before he stepped past the fallen trees and into the cavern, he reached back and touched my cheek, wiping away my stray tears. He smiled, even though his green eyes held sadness, then disappeared into the dark. Fergus, who had remained strangely quiet this entire time, whined and followed after him.

I was left standing in complete disbelief, staring blankly into a hole in the ground that I was sure was haunted. My mind was far too overwhelmed to think clearly, but a few things surfaced in my mind before I forced myself to walk home. I was in danger, more so than I thought. If I really was some Fomorian, Tuatha De hybrid, and if I really could be a potential threat, then it wasn't too far-fetched to believe those of the Otherworld would want me eliminated. Or worse, would want to use me in order to destroy their enemies. If that raven that had been following me really was a pet of the Morrigan, then she could very well be the one after me. Yes, I was in trouble, but so was Cade. Although he never actually said the words, he had indicated that he would fight to defend me and he didn't expect to survive such a battle.

A sob left my chest, and I clutched my arms around my waist. I had to get away from this portal, this cave to the Otherworld, before I was tempted enough to run after him.

I arrived home to find the house empty. Good. I couldn't face my family now, not after everything I had just learned. I got undressed, took a long, hot shower, and then got into bed. I was immensely glad that tomorrow was Saturday because there was no way I could face my friends in the morning. I would need the weekend to recover and decide what I was going to do next. No, I would not sit back and just let some Otherworldly thing kill or kidnap me, but according to Cade, the odds definitely were not in my favor.

-Sixteen-

Depressed

Naturally, I was depressed all that week. Tully and Robyn asked me constantly what was wrong, but I merely shrugged and mumbled some lame excuse. They told me that I'd been acting strange for weeks and insisted I tell them what was bothering me.

"Is it some guy?" Robyn asked as she sucked the last of her soda through a neon bendy straw.

I drew in a breath then shook my head. _Well, yes and no,_ I thought to myself. I couldn't tell them everything I knew even if I wanted to. I wasn't the only one involved at that point and even if I was, they would finally see me as everyone else did: a freak.

_Okay guys, do you really want to hear the truth? I'm not human after all. Nope, I'm Faelorehn, from the Otherworld. Immortal. Remember that huge raven that tried to kill me? Yeah, it was from the Otherworld too, and apparently I'm some freakish, demon-god half-breed that may or may not inadvertently destroy the structure of the Otherworld, so you might want to keep your distance in case any other rogue faelah are after me. Oh, and you were right about the guy. He's the one who told me all of this, but it doesn't matter, because he is perfect and has the most amazing eyes and he might die any day now trying to keep all these Otherworldly creepy crawlers away from me._

I didn't say it out loud of course. No, I didn't have the guts to, and Tully and Robyn wouldn't believe me anyway. But thinking about Cade made me suddenly miserable and embarrassed at the same time. He must think I'm a huge threat and a complete waste of time. My cheeks started to warm as I recalled how foolish I had acted around him.

Robyn smacked me in the back and laughed, "I knew it!"

"Robyn!" Tully growled, "Can't you see she's depressed?"

I blinked up at them, confused. My internal tirade had sapped my attention for the last minute or two. Then I remembered what Robyn had asked me before and my blush deepened. They wanted to know about Cade.

"Oh, sorry," Robyn said. She crumpled her can and chucked it into the nearest recycling bin. "Wanna talk about it?"

I gave her a glare and shook my head. That was Robyn's way of saying, 'Please give me the details!'

"Oh, come on, it will make you feel better," she insisted, patting me this time instead of smacking me.

"No, really, it isn't what you think," I blurted. Liar. It was exactly what she thought. Sort of. I was miserable because I liked a boy and he didn't like me back. Ugh, that was a lie too. If only it were that simple.

"Is it someone who goes to school here?" Robyn grimaced as she said it, knowing how we both felt about the boys at our high school.

"Robyn, she doesn't want to talk. Remember what happened the last time we bugged her about one of her crushes?"

Despite my focus on the downward spiral my life had become, I cringed at the memory. It had been in junior high and the boy of my dreams had been inconveniently walking by when I blurted his name out as my secret crush to my pestering friends. I tried to fake illness for the rest of the week, but Mom would have nothing of it. The weeks that followed had been some of the worst of my life. I had a bad feeling that one of these days I would end up looking back and laughing at how insignificant they were, but I had an even nastier feeling that worse situations loomed ahead. The bell announcing the end of lunch rang and I was brought back to the present.

"Oh, fine!" Robyn complained. "But you're going to have to spill the beans eventually. Oh! Maybe at our Beltaine festival in a few weeks! It will be the perfect time to divulge anything to do with romance." She winked and skipped off in the direction of her next class.

"Beltaine?" Tully asked, looking confused.

"May first. It's a Celtic festival that celebrates the beginning of the light half of the year, or the start of spring," I said.

Tully stopped and looked at me in surprise. "How do you know that?"

I paused outside the door to our math class. I had forgotten that, for the past several months, I had kept my research of the Celtic world a secret from my friends. Because, let's face it, they would wonder at my sudden interest in the myths and legends of the ancient people of Ireland. I cursed myself. How could I be so careless? Oh yeah, duh. Gloom and doom headed my way soon, _and_ the stupid side effects that resulted from pining after a guy.

"Um, well, Robyn went off on a tangent the other day after she dropped you off after school."

I smiled, but the look Tully gave me told me she wasn't convinced. The tardy bell rang and as Mr. Skaring glared at us as we took our seats, I was grateful. It meant Tully couldn't question me further and I was certain that the oh-so fascinating world of pre-calculus would bludgeon any memories of the past hour out of her mind.

* * *

I didn't see Cade for the rest of the week or for the rest of the next week either. I was partly relieved, for the distance from him gave me time to sort through my turbulent feelings. He had said he only thought I _might_ be half Fomorian and half Tuatha De. Maybe he had been wrong and maybe this whole thing was a huge misunderstanding and an overreaction on his part and on mine as well. Perhaps he had figured out his error and was now talking with the Faelorehn being who kept sending ravens and demons after me.

Even if all that were true and I didn't have to worry about the threat of impending death, that didn't help with the way I felt about Cade. I tried, for the umpteenth time, to convince myself that it was just a silly crush I had on him and that it would soon pass. He was too old for me anyway, and I'd be going off to college in a year. Then I remembered that I probably _wouldn't_ be going off to college, since I wasn't human, and that I would most likely be going to the Otherworld instead. That is, if I could prove I really wasn't a threat to their society. That got the emotional rollercoaster going all over again.

Robyn's Beltaine party didn't help matters. She decided, since her family was extremely religious, and since she really didn't have a backyard and the swamp behind my house wouldn't do (thank goodness; it held too many memories for me at the moment), that our little pagan celebration was to take place at a local park in town. We each had to bring a selection of flowers, 'plucked from a wild field or growing naturally in our yard'. I think the ones I brought were technically weeds. After the initial prayers and thanks she gave to the gods and goddesses (all names I now recognized), we sat around in a circle and recited some sort of chant. When parents started dragging their curious children away, muttering something about 'freaks' and 'rotten teenagers', I knew the festivities had just begun. Well, at least the weather was finally nice again.

When Michaela, Veronica and half the cheerleading squad arrived to practice, I wondered if I could conjure up flying pinecones again. Of course, there wasn't a single pinecone in sight. Luckily, the strange droning of our voices blocked out most of the horrible girls' shrill laughter and crude remarks. After a while they got bored and moved on to a different part of the park to commence with their practice.

The one good thing that did come out of visiting the park was that, once we were through with the 'ceremony', we left the grassy lawn behind and climbed down into the area where the creek was located. The trees provided ample shade and for some reason or another, my nerves felt more at peace there. Perhaps it was the presence of the soothing stream, or the quiet of the shady trees. Will and Thomas wandered off to explore the creek while Robyn, Tully and I picked a low hanging sycamore limb to relax on.

"So, spill," Robyn said as she tossed the remains of her flower garland into the lazy water below.

I blinked at her, not knowing what she was talking about.

"The boy you've been mooning over! I know he doesn't go to our school, because, let's face it, all the boys there are cretins. And I've been watching you for the past two weeks. You haven't been making eyes at anyone. So it must be an outsider."

"Robyn! Thomas and Will are cretins?" Tully scoffed, folding her arms across her chest.

Robyn snorted, picking a leaf off of her old tattered jeans. "No, but Meghan isn't pining after one of them." She gave me a quick glance. "Or are you?"

I thrust my arms down against the tree trunk, nearly falling off. "No! Thomas and Will are like my cousins."

"Then who is it? Have we seen him before?"

I sighed. She would never let this go until I provided her with some information. I really didn't want to think about Cade for the time being, but perhaps I could twist the truth just enough to get Robyn off my back. Besides, it's not like they'd believe me if I told them the truth . . .

"Ugh, fine!" I hissed. "His name's C-Clay."

_Uh, Clay?_ That was the best name I could come up with? I gave a mental groan.

"Oh, do go on. What does he look like? Where did you meet him?"

To my utter disbelief (and relief) Robyn, and Tully even, bought it.

I proceeded to tell them everything about 'Clay', his blond hair and brown eyes, how shy he was and how I was taller than him. The exact opposite of Cade. Paranoid person that I was, I didn't want to risk my friends catching a glimpse of Cade and recognizing him as Clay. That would be disastrous on so many levels. So far I had managed to keep all of the chaos of my Otherworldly self separate from my normal, human self. Okay, maybe not so normal, but still. Whatever being Otherworldly meant for me in the long run, I didn't want my friends mixed up in it, especially after Cade's insinuation that I could be leading a very dangerous existence.

" . . . well, I think most boys our age are shorter than you, Meg. Don't listen to Robyn."

I caught the tail end of what Tully had been saying, but it didn't matter. They had believed my ridiculous story and now that their curiosity was satisfied, they might actually leave me alone for a while.

We stayed in the park until sunset, and then we all piled into Thomas's minivan and headed back home. Tully and I were the last ones dropped off and as we waved goodbye to Thomas, I caught a glimpse of something lurking in the bushes. My stomach clenched and I looked over at Tully. She hadn't seen it. Of course not. Was it happening already? The threat Cade had warned me about? Was an army of faelah going to pour out of the trees at any second and tear me to shreds right there in the middle of the street? I was suddenly petrified, but I couldn't let anything happen to Tully. She was my best friend. I had to be the brave one.

"Well, I had better get home," I said through a nervous cough. "Still have homework to finish."

I darted my eyes towards the bushes again, but the thing was gone. It didn't make me feel any easier though.

"K, bye," Tully said. As she walked up to her front door, she looked back at me once more. "I hope things work out with you and Clay," she said with a smile. "Maybe we should all go to a movie or something?"

I was too distracted by my sudden fear, so I didn't quite hear her. "Sure, maybe. We'll see," I babbled as I waved goodbye.

I started up the street at a fast pace and kept my eye on the landscape behind me. Ugh, if only we hadn't stayed out so late. Twilight was creeping in and the grey shadows of the trees provided lots of hiding places for anything with malicious intent.

I was sure Tully gave me one of her looks before disappearing inside her house, but I was too distracted to notice. Once I was sure she was safely inside, I started running. I moved as fast as possible, my ears prickling to catch the sound of pursuit. I was three doors down from my own house when I heard the loud padding of feet and the panting of a large animal just behind me. My heart rate went up, making it hard to breathe and move my legs. And then, for some strange reason, I looked behind me. Hadn't I always been the one, while watching horror movies with my friends, who screamed at the main character not to slow down or look behind them? Hadn't I told them how stupid they were, that if they had just kept going they would have made it inside the house in time to lock out the machete-wielding villain?

Well, turns out I was well ahead of my pursuer. I would have made it, except the shock of seeing it turned my legs to jelly. It wasn't one of the Cumorrig, nor was it a pack of those demonic gnomes or that vile squirrel I had seen chatting with the raven. This thing was far bigger, about the size of a bull, but it looked like some horrible mutation of a human and a goat.

It walked upright and its eyes were huge and milky white. Rotting teeth that came to a point filled its mouth. Thick mats of black and gray fur hung from its neck and head. Its torso was that of a man, but from the waist down it looked like some monstrous, skinny goat, cloven hooves and all. Three long, spiraled horns protruded from its head and when it screamed, a fetid smell filled the air. I couldn't keep a sob of fear from escaping my mouth.

It snarled at me, snapping as it approached slowly, its pitch-black hooves clacking against the ground as if they were made of iron. I couldn't move; I was frozen in fear. It lurched towards me and I ducked to the ground, covering my head. I was certain that at some point I screamed.

Nothing happened, but I could hear the creature growling in anger. I risked a glance. It was pacing again, and then it lunged for a third time, faster than anything I had ever seen. I didn't have time to cover my head this time, but before my brain could force my lungs to produce another scream, the animal sidled back. I was dumbfounded and confused. It tried to get at me once again and was once again thwarted. It was as if some invisible force field had established itself around my body. The nightmarish animal was angry, but no matter how hard it tried to tear at me with its claws, it couldn't get to me.

I was so wrapped up in my own terror and fascination that I didn't at first hear the barking. I saw Fergus before I really heard him, leaping like a white blur onto the fetid, black haired back of my attacker. My relief hit me like a tidal wave. The demonic creature screamed in pain and anger, and before I knew it, Fergus was chasing it back into the trees that led down into the swamp. I hoped he nipped its heels all the way back to where it had come from. Some hellish part of the Otherworld, probably.

"Meghan? Meghan! Goodness girl, are you alright?"

I blinked up to find my neighbor, Mrs. Dollard, hovering over me, her gardening sheers hanging loose in her gloved hands. I choked back a sob. Dear lord, did she see that thing? She was such a kind old woman, I hoped with all my heart that Fergus had chased it off before she rushed out here to see what all the commotion was about.

She blinked at me over her thick glasses. She looked utterly confused, but although she was well over seventy she was renowned for her sharp mind. It wasn't like she would have been oblivious to what had just happened. Then it hit me. Of course she didn't see what had happened. She was human and these horrible apparitions were only revealing themselves to me.

"Uhm," I looked at her skirt, grass stains where the knees should be. "Bee," I blurted.

She made an effort to stand up straight and push her glasses back onto her nose. She pursed her wrinkled lips and adjusted herself so that she stood, elbows akimbo, and glared down at me.

"Well, of all the silly nonsense. Really girl, a bee? You do know they are extremely beneficial insects, pollinating our flowers for us and making honey . . ." she mumbled as she shuffled her way back to her house.

I cringed. I liked bees, really I did, but how else could I have explained my strange behavior? Had she seen me running and then diving for the ground? Screaming as I covered my head? Maybe not. It was getting dark after all.

Reluctantly, I stood up and brushed the gravel from my jeans. The heels of my hands were scraped, but not too badly. I cast a nervous glance down the road, towards my house and in the direction of where that nightmare had disappeared to. Was it still out there? Would it come back? Was Fergus alright? Had Cade come with him?

Before thinking much longer about it, I began to walk briskly towards home. Once there, I waved a quick hello to my mother and brothers, mumbled something about laundry and homework, and went down to my room. I double checked to make sure my sliding glass door was locked, recovered the mistletoe charm Cade had given me months before from among the necklaces hanging from my bed post, and curled up in bed with a pen and some paper.

_Cade,_

I lifted my pen and thought about what I should say. I knew he was preoccupied; busy with whatever he was busy with in the Otherworld. But it couldn't hurt to try. Eventually, I got back to work.

_Cade,_

_I know it has been a long time since I've seen you, and I know you are concerned about my heritage and what trouble it might cause, but I need to talk with you. I was attacked by something Otherworldly today. Not the raven or the Cumorrig or even the gnomes, but something much worse._

I thought about describing it and telling him about its strange behavior (how it couldn't really attack me) but my hand was shaking too much and I needed to write something that would entice him to come and see me.

_Please send Fergus to my door when you are ready to meet. I would feel safer if he were there to escort me._

_Sincerely,_

_Meghan_

Okay, that wasn't all that enticing, but perhaps he would come anyway. I glanced out my door, debating whether or not I should place the note in the knothole tonight. When a flash of crimson eyes glared back at me through the growing dusk from the trees in the distance, I quickly checked the lock on my door one more time and drew the blinds.

My heart pounding in my throat, I dug through my closet, tossing my empty suitcase and several boxes of old photographs out of the way. When all of the clutter was cleared out, I scooped up the bow and quiver of arrows Cade had given to me. I didn't care if my mom or my brothers stumbled upon it in the night. There was no way I was going to sleep without some form of protection within reach. And honestly, I didn't think I was going to sleep at all.

-Seventeen-

Betrayed

Just as I had predicted, I spent the night tossing and turning, waiting for that grotesque goat-man to break through my sliding glass door and maul me in my sleep. When my alarm went off at six, I merely groaned and got up. I really didn't feel like going to school, but I knew it would be safer than staying at home all day, waiting for that monster to make its move. I figured being surrounded by hundreds of other students would work in my favor.

The one good thing that came out of my terrifying ordeal from the day before was that I wasn't thinking too much about Cade. Well, at least I _hadn't_ been thinking too much about Cade . . . Of course, I had to somehow get that letter into the knothole in the oak tree, but I wasn't going a hundred yards near the swamp until it was full light out. Right after school would be a good time.

I spent the day in near silence, and Robyn and Tully thought I was still moping after Clay. Good. It meant they would leave me alone. Not that I didn't want the company of my friends. More like I might burst into tears or snap at them because of all the stress I was under. I didn't need to ostracize myself even more.

Tully drove me home that afternoon, and I was glad that she took me all the way to the end of the road.

"Thanks Tully," I mumbled as I climbed out of her dad's car.

"Hey Meg,"

I paused. There was real concern in her voice. She never let her concern show. I turned, trying to put on a nonchalant face. I think I might have failed a little.

"You know you can talk to me, about Clay, about anything."

Tully was reaching out, and as much as I wanted to just fling myself against her shoulder and cry, I couldn't. I couldn't confide in her. It was too dangerous. I had no idea, really, what was out to get me but there was no way in hell I was going to let it get Tully.

Taking a deep mental breath, I shrugged and said, "No, I'm okay Tully, really I am. There are some things going on right now that are just stressing me out. I'll be fine. I promise."

Tully grinned, her pale green eyes looking a bit sad. "Okay, but you know where to come if you need a shoulder."

I smiled, despite my sudden melancholy. I knew I could always count on Tully.

I watched her car disappear down the street before I dug my hand into my backpack and pulled out the note to Cade. I shaded my eyes and looked up into the canopy of the eucalyptus trees. The sun was far from setting and it wasn't going to get any brighter. Leaving my backpack on our front porch, I ran to the end of our street, slipped past the fence marking the dead end, and sprinted to the oak tree several yards away.

Stepping up onto the roots and reaching around the back, I located the knothole and quickly shoved the note in. I didn't even check to make sure the end wasn't sticking out. I raced back up the equestrian path and out onto the road, turning left up our driveway. Breathing heavily from my frantic run, I scooped up my backpack, fished out my house key, and let myself in.

I waved to my mom, who was sitting on the living room floor with Aiden, Joey and Jack, helping them put together a giant jigsaw puzzle.

"Hi hon," was all she said. "Frantic day at school?"

Oh. She must have been referring to my disheveled look.

I shrugged and grinned. It was hard keeping all my secrets from my family, but luckily I was in high school and they expected some level of aloofness.

"Yeah, had a pretty strenuous P.E. class today."

Mom waved me on, knowing I would have homework to do. I headed downstairs and once there I pulled out my books. But once again, homework was the furthest thing from my mind. I wondered when Cade would get my message, _if_ Cade would get my message. I sighed and got back to geography. Best not to think about Cade or the Otherworld right now.

* * *

Three days later I got home from school to find Fergus sitting at my door, panting and grinning like always.

I cried in surprise and delight. The note! Cade must have left me another message. For a minute, I was giddy. Then my spirits dropped. What if he didn't want to meet with me? What if he had received my note, but was only writing back to tell me to leave off?

I bit my lip. I dreaded going down to the oak tree now, but not because I feared the faelah that could be waiting for me. I was afraid Cade might have rejected me.

_Stop it Meghan. Rejected or not, you need to know._

Steeling myself, I grabbed my shoes and shoved them onto my feet. I threw open my door and jogged after Fergus as he loped down the horse path towards the oak tree. I nearly tripped on a tree root in my haste to get to the note. Must have been my nerves.

I slipped the note from its hiding place and with trembling fingers I unrolled it, scanning my eyes across the sparse words.

_Meghan,_

_I will meet you tomorrow afternoon in the clearing._

_C.M._

I slumped my shoulders in disappointment. Okay, well at least it wasn't a rejection. But I had hoped there would be more to it than that.

The note's brevity had my mind occupied all the way to my room, so I didn't notice the looming raven until I was just outside my door. It startled me at first, like it always did, but this time it seemed only to be watching me. I wanted dearly to throw a rock at it, but I had no idea what powers this particular faelah might possess and the last thing I wanted to do was anger it. Quickly, I stepped inside my room and locked my door behind me, closing the blinds as an extra measure.

The next day, I got a ride home with Thomas right after school. I had tried to present a more cheerful face during the day and Tully seemed to be a little more relaxed. That was a good sign, I thought. I had contemplated just walking home that afternoon, taking the back way and waiting for Cade, but as silly as it was, I wanted to go home and make myself more presentable first.

I stepped into my bathroom and pulled out the makeup I kept stowed in the top drawer. The last time I'd used any serious amount of it had been for the dance on Halloween. I carefully applied some mascara, lip gloss and eyeliner. I tried to ignore the changeability of my eyes, if only for the simple reason that their inability to make up their mind on a single color was dizzying. It was a good thing that on a normal day they didn't change this frequently. People were more comfortable accepting that it was the lighting that made them seem to switch from hazel, to grey, to blue.

Once satisfied with my makeup, I fiddled with my hair a little. It had a bit of curl to it today, and I opted to keep it down. I didn't leave my hair down that often because it got in the way. This afternoon I thought it might make me look more fetching. Ha. _Me,_ fetching . . .

Finally, I changed into my good jeans and a nice blouse, not my usual t-shirt. Perhaps if Cade were thinking of disappearing for good I might be able to change his mind. I glanced at the mirror hanging on the back of my door. _Well Meghan, it is an improvement, but I don't think you're going to impress Cade._ I heaved a sigh. It was worth a try at least.

Fergus was sitting outside my door when I stepped out of the bathroom, patient as a marble statue. I smiled, despite myself. The dog, um, _spirit guide_ , had grown on me, even if he never really showed any emotion.

Our trek into the swamp was a slow one, what with me trying to smooth my nerves and Fergus retreating into his silence. About halfway down, he pulled ahead and started sniffing around in the bushes. To flush out faelah waiting to ambush us? I didn't let it worry me too much. After witnessing his attack on the goat-man, I felt quite safe when Fergus was around, even when he was out of eyesight.

Eventually, the path curved and the small land bridge crossing the swamp came into view. Just a hundred yards or so more. My heart started to flutter and my legs suddenly felt weak. How could Cade have such an influence over me? The willows acted like a screen as I moved closer to the clearing, but just before I stepped out into view I spotted something that made me stop dead in my tracks.

Cade was already there, standing with his back to me and facing a woman. An incredibly beautiful woman. I felt my mouth go dry. She wasn't as tall as me, but her presence oozed extreme confidence. Her hair was jet black and fell in perfect ringlets halfway down her back, and her skin was an almost unearthly pale. On most people it would be considered a flaw, but on her it only seemed to enhance her beauty. Her figure, well, I wasn't exactly flat-chested, but she had the clear advantage over me. She had on a pair of designer jeans that clung to her figure and a shimmery top that accentuated all of her assets without being too revealing. In a nutshell, she looked like she had just stepped off of the pages of a fashion magazine.

I told myself not to overreact. Clearly she was Faelorehn, for she had that irresistible aura about her that also hung around Cade. I just hoped she was a cousin or a friend. At some point in time the roaring in my ears faded and I got over my numb shock. Breathing slowly through my nose, I inched forward, being careful to stay hidden behind the trees, and strained to hear what they were talking about. It was Cade's voice I picked up first.

"You're leaving. Right now."

Cade grabbed the woman's arm roughly and tried to move her towards the path leading to the dolmarehn. Anger, and maybe even a bit of fear, seemed to roll off of him in waves.

"I will not have you here when Meghan arrives."

The beautiful woman only laughed; a cruel, confident laugh that made the hair on my arms rise.

"Oh? And why's that Cade? Don't want your little _Faelorah_ to know about the most important woman in your life?"

Cade froze, pausing in his attempt to get the woman to leave. I tensed. _Oh Meghan, you have been so utterly stupid!_ I gritted my teeth and willed the tears forming in my eyes to evaporate. But it was no use. I just hoped Cade and his, _girlfriend_ (for who else could she be after a statement like that?), couldn't hear my heart breaking.

It felt as if the earth were opening up beneath me, to swallow me and put an end to my misery. Of course, Cade and his companion didn't notice. The woman sneered and yanked her arm free. Cade did nothing to stop her and through my blurred vision it looked almost as if he had been defeated. Like a dog cowering before its angry master.

"I will remind you, Cade dearest, that I am the one who gives orders and when they are not followed . . ."

I didn't stay to hear the rest; I was too distraught. I had to get out of there before I started sobbing and drew attention to myself. I knew this had been a possibility from the get-go. I knew Cade might already be spoken for. But it still hurt; it still dug at my heart.

I practically ran all the way back to my room, sobbing the entire way, my carefully applied makeup now streaming down my face. I threw open my sliding glass door, slammed it shut behind me and locked it. I didn't even bother changing or washing my face before I fell onto the top of my bed to cry into one of my pillows.

Logan called down the stairs to say that dinner was ready, and fortunately I had enough energy to call back up that I wasn't feeling very well and that I was going to bed early. No one came to investigate. Thank goodness. Rolling over on my back, I stared at the ceiling and let my misery flood over me. Eventually I fell asleep, but only because I was so exhausted. I didn't even notice when Fergus returned to my back door to lie down and fall asleep.

-Eighteen-

Heart-broken

I was sick over what I had discovered, so sick that I stayed home the next day. I had acted like one of those stupid jealous girls you see on TV or in a movie, the ones who allow their lives to revolve around their perfect guy. I winced. At least I had left before I made a scene. What had happened to me? I had always been the sensible one. Why had I fallen so hard for Cade? The realization of that fact, and the fact that I had finally admitted that what I suffered from was far worse than some crush, rocked me and turned me over like that time I tried kayaking at the beach. I sat up in bed, my mind nearly blank with shock, as one resounding thought reverberated around in my skull. I was in love with Cade MacRoich.

I grabbed a pillow and shoved my face into it, groaning. Oh, this was not good. He had a girlfriend, one who was way prettier than I was. Worse, a girlfriend he never mentioned to me. _Because you are so far from being a possible match for him, Meghan, that he didn't even bother dishing out that information._ It didn't matter that I was Faelorehn like him; that I had finally found someone who didn't think I was some freak of nature. Hot tears burned my eyes and spilled out to stain my pillowcase.

_Oh Meghan, don't you see now? All that stuff he told you about being half Fomorian and half Tuatha De?_ Either he had been lying about all that and had only been trying to get rid of me, or it was still true and he no longer wanted to have anything to do with me because of it. I had always wondered if my body could produce only a limited amount of tears. I was starting to fear I might be putting that theory to the test.

When my depression passed and my mind cleared, I took a deep breath and tried to shove the image of Cade from my thoughts. It was too early to contemplate all the possible meanings of what I'd witnessed yesterday. Best to distract myself with sleep.

The next morning I got up and got ready for school. I still felt terrible, but I needed to start functioning again. Tully noticed something was wrong right away but luckily I had the excuse of getting over my illness to explain away my groggy, gloomy mood. Sometimes she was too perceptive.

The day passed slowly and I hardly took note of my classes. Coach Tillmann even let me sit out during P.E., claiming I still looked rather sickly. His idea of curing the flu was to go into the weight room and do as many bench presses as humanly possible. The fact that he was extending his sympathy my way wasn't a good sign. Time to ditch my drama queen act and get over it pronto. Only problem was, that was easier said than done.

I accepted a ride home from Robyn that afternoon and thanked my lucky stars she was in one of her self-centered moods. She spent the entire three minutes it took her to get to my driveway complaining about the streak of green in her hair.

"It's teal, not lime. Honestly, how can the color description be that far off?"

I merely shrugged as I yanked my backpack from the backseat. I shut the passenger side door, more forcefully than I had meant, and the partially rolled-down window rattled in its frame.

"Uh," Robyn said, eyeing me for what seemed like the first time that day. "You okay? You seem more depressed than sick."

I gritted my teeth. "I'm fine. Just had a headache all day and my stomach hasn't quite settled yet."

Not exactly a lie.

"Well, you'd better get inside and within puking range of a toilet then, just in case. Hope you feel better tomorrow!"

Robyn threw her car into drive and practically peeled out down our quiet road. I sighed and glanced around our driveway. It was empty. If I was lucky, no one would be home yet.

I bypassed our front door and went straight to the backyard, unlocking my sliding glass door with the proper key and slipping inside, closing and locking it behind me. I dropped my backpack in a corner and belly flopped onto my bed. I wanted at least an hour of peace before my brothers and my parents got the chance to bother me.

I must have dozed off, because all of a sudden I was staring at my alarm clock and it was two hours later than it had been a few minutes ago. I dragged myself off of my bed, feeling grumpy and rumpled and wondering why I felt so forlorn. Then it came back to me: staying home the day before, walking around in a daze all day long at school, realizing I had fallen for the strange guy who claimed to be from the Otherworld . . . I groaned and scrubbed my face with my hands.

"Meg! Mom says dinner's ready!" one of my brothers called from upstairs.

I sighed, did a quick check in my bathroom mirror, and plastered a smile on my face. The last thing I wanted was for my family to know I was pining after some guy. Giving myself one more power talk, I climbed the stairs to join them for dinner.

* * *

That entire week consisted of me gradually convincing myself that learning about Cade's girlfriend was a good thing and that my broken heart would mend within the month. But as each day passed, I yearned to see him, or simply get a note from him. I wanted an explanation of who the woman was, even though I already knew. I wanted to hear it from Cade. And besides, I had taken off that day without ever letting him know I had been there in the clearing. Surely he was just as curious as I. Didn't he want to know why I never showed up? I squashed that thought right away. _He doesn't feel the same way about you Meghan. After that fight with his girlfriend, he probably forgot all about you._

"What's been up with you lately? You're not sick again, are you?" Tully asked around a mouthful of tuna salad sandwich.

"Huh?" I blurted, snapping out of my daze. I sighed, twirling my cold spaghetti salad with my fork. "Oh. Nothing. I'm fine." I tried a smile, but it felt very foreign to me.

Robyn stared at me. "Nothing? Are you serious? You've been walking around as if you are living in a different dimension all week!"

I cringed. If she only knew how accurate she was . . .

"Just ready for summer, that's all."

"Most people who are ready for summer are antsy. Hyped up and talking about the beach and the lake," Will commented as he polished off a soda.

"You're acting as if . . ." Robyn trailed off and her eyes grew wide. "Meghan, you're acting as if you've got it bad for some guy! Is it Clay again?"

The blush that flooded my face responded automatically and completely without my permission.

"Who's Clay?" Thomas asked.

"Meghan? Is this why you've been acting so distant for the past month?" Tully asked gently.

I had totally forgotten about the fabricated Clay, but I wasn't in the mood to talk about any guy, invented or real.

"No!" I said in response to my friends' questions. I scooped up the remains of my lunch and headed towards the closest trash can. "There's no one!"

After getting rid of my lunch, I merely walked away, leaving my four friends to gawk after me in shock. I didn't want to talk to them about Cade. How would I explain everything to them without sounding like I'd finally gone off the deep end? I was so glad that I wouldn't be seeing them for the rest of the day and that it was a Friday. I could use the weekend to recover my bearings and maybe come up with some excuse or story to tell them.

I had been avoiding the swamp all week, but today I decided it was best if I take the back way home and take my chances. If Tully and Robyn couldn't find me in the parking lot after school, then they couldn't force me to talk about Cade.

* * *

Walking through the swamp and the surrounding woods had been a bad idea. Hadn't I been trying to forget about Cade? So why did I decide to take a nice little stroll through the place that reminded me of him the most? A wave of emotion swept over me: anger, mostly at myself for falling for someone so utterly unattainable, regret and fear that I might not ever see him again, and a bone-deep sorrow for the whole entire, stupid, messy situation.

As I plodded down the road, slipping a little on the gravel as the steep asphalt became a wide dirt path, my roiling emotions came to a breaking point and a sudden anger surfaced above them all. How dare Cade lead me on like that, treating me with more kindness and caring than any guy had ever done before him? Even Thomas and Will considered me to be just one of the guys, not that I'd ever consider dating either of them. Thomas for obvious reasons and Will just wasn't my type. But Cade?

I wrapped my arms tightly around myself as the dirt path brought me to the outskirts of the swamp. I could see the small bridge of land that crossed its shallowest point just a few yards ahead. Cade _had_ been interested in me, hadn't he? My anger at him soon turned into anger at myself. Perhaps I had read too much into his actions and words. Perhaps things were done differently in the Otherworld.

"Hello Meghan."

I screamed at the sound of the unfamiliar voice and only because my thoughts were so lost elsewhere. Turning with wide eyes, I found someone standing in the clearing that had become such a familiar meeting ground for me. As soon as I saw who it was, I gaped in shock. It was the beautiful Faelorehn woman, this time wearing a summer dress and heels. Really? Heels? In the swamp? I snorted. Why was that the thought that came to my mind? This was Cade's girlfriend; shouldn't I be more concerned with why she was here, talking to me?

The woman crossed her arms and smiled, her crimson lips and violet eyes making her white skin seem even paler. I shivered, despite the warm spring air. She simply gave me the heebie-jeebies.

After some time, she released a sigh and started examining the fingernails on her right hand.

"So . . ."

She let that word hang in the air for a while. "Cade has told me all about you."

My stomach dropped. Oh no, was I to be one of those girls who gets attacked by a jealous girlfriend? Would I end up on one of those daytime reality talk shows? I fought the urge to run, though I wanted to do nothing other than bolt up the horse trail and head for my room. But I had the uncomfortable feeling that this woman would be able to catch me, heels or not.

"Um, he did?" I finally managed, my voice feeling raspy.

The woman looked at me and although she smiled, that smile didn't reach her unusual eyes. She blinked and they went from violet to a different color; chestnut? It was hard to tell from where I was standing.

"Oh yes. He informed me that he had found a lost Faelorehn, and that he was determined to teach you all about the Otherworld so that you could be returned home someday."

I felt myself relax, but only a tiny bit. What did she want?

"You're his girlfriend, right?" I blurted. Then I bit my lip. _Stupid._

The woman threw her head back and laughed, a genuine laugh this time, and her black, curly hair bounced with the movement. When she recovered and looked back at me, her eyes seemed to sparkle.

"Oh yes, we do have quite an _intimate_ relationship."

I blushed and tried not to think about just how intimate. Ugh, could my situation get any worse? As if on cue, my eyes started to prick. No! I would not cry in front of her! I managed to resist breaking down, but just barely.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, but I really should get home. My family will be wondering where I am."

I turned to walk away, clutching the straps of my backpack to keep a hold of my emotions.

"Wouldn't you like to come see the Otherworld, though? I can take you now if you'd like. Would only take a few minutes."

I froze. Why did she want to take me to the Otherworld? I turned and arched a brow.

She shrugged sheepishly. "Cade asked me to do him a favor. Said he couldn't cross over for a while and asked me to bring you to him on the other side. He spoke so fondly of you, like you were a sister to him."

I winced and felt terrible all over again. He thought of me like a sister? That was worse than him having a girlfriend. But . . . it was tempting. To see Cade again, even if just for a few minutes, and even if he already had a girlfriend. Maybe I could bring closure to my pointless feelings. Maybe if I saw them together as a couple, I could finally move on. It still hurt worse than anything in the world, but at least I would never be left to remain wondering . . .

"Okay," I sighed.

I began to step towards the woman, but at that second Fergus came trotting out of the willows. I expected him to come stand by me or maybe run up to the woman with his tail wagging. Surely the hound would be familiar with her. Instead, he did something that surprised me, and frightened me a little. He came to stop just in front of me and took on a defensive stance. With hackles raised, he released a low warning growl and locked eyes with the Faelorehn fashion model standing only fifteen feet in front of me.

Blinking in surprise, I took my eyes off of Fergus and looked up at the woman. She looked . . . nervous? Annoyed? Both maybe? I couldn't tell, but it was obvious she wasn't going to get anywhere near Fergus. That was odd.

"It's okay Fergus," I said, "she's going to take me to Cade."

Had Cade somehow asked his spirit guide not to let me go to the Otherworld? So he wouldn't have to deal with me anymore? No, that didn't seem right. He may have broken my heart, but Cade had always been a gentleman. Then what was wrong?

"Oh, silly Fergus. He does that sometimes," the woman trilled. "I think he's jealous of me."

Giving that cool smile, she strode forward, her gate as smooth as a swan's. Fergus lunged and snapped, barking and snarling.

I stepped back in shock. The only time I had ever seen him act out in aggression was when those Cumorrig attacked, and when the goat-man came after me.

I looked up at Cade's girlfriend. Yep. She was definitely irritated. Her eyes flashed dangerously and her beautiful mouth curved down in a frown. But she didn't try to move any closer.

I placed my hand on Fergus's neck, shushing him and speaking quietly. "Calm down Fergus, don't you recognize her?"

The hound glanced back at me and something crossed over his eyes. A memory came to mind, a memory of a conversation with Cade. And then I could have sworn I heard his voice in my head.

_"Don't trust anyone who claims to be Faelorehn."_

I glanced back up at the woman standing before me. Sure, she hadn't claimed to be Faelorehn, but it was pretty obvious. And if she was Cade's girlfriend, shouldn't she be trustworthy?

Fergus's sudden growl told me no. But could I just walk away nonchalantly after agreeing to go to the Otherworld with her? _Time to think fast Meghan._

"You know what, maybe I should wait on going to the Otherworld. Fergus seems a bit upset and I don't want him to attack either of us. Besides, my parents expect me to check in after school before I go out. Can I take a rain check?"

I put on my best smile, all the while clinging to Fergus's rough fur. It made me think of the little girl I'd been on the streets of L.A., using the white hound as my anchor.

At first, the woman looked as if she was seconds away from throwing a major tantrum, but then she closed her eyes slowly and took a few deep breaths. When she opened them, they were once again a cool violet color. She put on a smile, this one looking genuine, and shrugged her shoulders.

"Very well. I wouldn't want to get you in trouble. However," she paused. Suddenly the light in her eyes faded and she choked back a sob.

I blinked in surprise.

"I didn't want to say anything," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. She looked up at me with imploring eyes. "But, I'm afraid Cade's in a lot of trouble. The last job he took on, well, I think it was too much for him. You have no idea what power the faelah wield in our world."

Oh, I had an idea, if I was judging by Cade's haggard appearance the last few times I had seen him. But her obvious fear and the information she had just given me sent a pang to my heart. Cade was in trouble.

"And he's certain that you have some hidden power that will awaken in the Otherworld and help him defeat these monsters. But, oh, he told me not to say anything to you." She choked back another sob. "He thought it was possible you could help him, but he doesn't want to risk you getting hurt. Oh Meghan," she looked up at me with wide, frightened eyes, "I promised I wouldn't tell you any of this, but I'm so worried that he won't survive the fight this time unless someone can help him. If it is true, what he told me about you, that you are descended from a Fomorian and a Tuatha De, then you could be the only one who can save him."

I felt my fingers tighten even more in Fergus's fur. Had Cade been trying to protect me all along? Was he now on the verge of death, simply to keep me safe? All of a sudden, all of my anger, all of my sorrow fled with the wind. A warm contentment filled me, but soon it was replaced by fear. Cade needed my help.

Fergus growled again, but I ignored him.

"I'll come," I said, my voice harsh with determination, "but I have to go home first and tell my parents I'm going out for the night."

Cade's girlfriend heaved a great sigh of relief. "Thank you," she breathed, looking slightly haggard herself. "I must go now, to see if I can aid him until you get there. Do you know where the dolmarehn is, to get to the Otherworld?"

I nodded.

"Good. Just pass through the cave and I will meet you on the other side. From there, we can find Cade and hopefully, if it's not too late, save his life."

I turned to go. I had to get back to the house as quickly as possible and let my parents know I'd be out for a while. I could have gone with her right then and there, but Mom and Dad would worry and I didn't want to put them through that.

"Meghan?"

I turned to see the beautiful woman gazing at me, her face a mask of worry.

"Thank you."

I nodded at her, then turned and sprinted up the horse trail that would bring me home. I didn't know how much time Cade had, but I was determined to get there before it was too late.

-Nineteen-

Eile

Cade had once told me never to go into the cave that led to the Otherworld unless I had no other choice. Well, at the moment I really didn't have any other choice. The Faelorehn woman (ugh, why hadn't I asked her name?) had told me Cade was in trouble. In my book a friend in trouble required me to call upon desperate measures, especially since I couldn't do anything as simple as call the police. Of course, I could be walking straight into a hostile environment, but I was beyond caring for the time being.

A fog had blown in towards the end of the day, as if it knew what I was up to and was only helping to set the mood. Mom and Dad hadn't been home yet when I made it back to the house, so I left them a note about going out with friends and that I would be back very late. I hoped whatever it was I was supposed to do to help Cade didn't take all night. I made sure to have my cell phone on me, but I had a feeling that I wouldn't get service in the Otherworld.

I shook my head and took a deep breath, puffing a little as I walked up the trail that would eventually plunge back down into the culvert where the dolmarehn was located. I was so fixated on going through with this; of walking into that cave and crossing over into the Otherworld, that I hadn't noticed the sudden silence of the woods or the eyes that watched me from the overgrowth. I was so busy trying to ignore the warning voice in my head that told me I was acting too rashly, that I hadn't thought this through, that I didn't see the great black raven watching me with fire in its eyes.

Taking one more deep breath and pulling my thin jacket over my shoulders, I stepped over the broken branches and pushed aside the tree roots hanging in front of the cave like a screen. Shutting my wayward thoughts out of my mind, I stepped out of the white fog and into the blackness of nothingness.

My first impression of the cave to the Otherworld was total darkness. I blinked a few times, stretching my arms out tentatively in front of me. I nearly screamed when my trembling fingers brushed against something soft and stringy. After a few seconds of consideration, I realized it was only more roots hanging from the cave ceiling. It was a small space, after all, only just big enough for a normal sized adult to pass through without much trouble. Cade must have had to duck and make himself as small as he could whenever he passed this way.

The sudden thought of Cade rubbed painfully against my raw emotions. Some of my anger towards him started to fade away and my more compassionate side kicked in. Maybe he hadn't wondered about my missed meeting because he had been in trouble. I hadn't thought of that before. My stupid, selfish teenage heart was only concerned about its own welfare. Now I was beginning to worry. I picked up my pace, keeping my fingers crossed there weren't any really big spiders in here or sudden drops that might result in a sprained ankle.

As I felt my way through the cave, using the wall to my right as a guide, I breathed deeply to keep my heartbeat at a normal pace. The air smelled and tasted like dust, mildew and eucalyptus oil at first, but after several minutes the temperature dropped dramatically and a cool, moist breath of air slithered past my face and caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. The scent of rain and wet stone and something that just felt ancient flooded my nose, and the darkness around me seemed to grow blacker. I started to shiver and I wanted to wrap my arms tightly around myself, but I was afraid to take my fingers from the earthen wall. I imagined that just a few small steps ahead of me there lay a great abyss, deeper than the earth itself, ready to swallow me whole.

I should have turned around then and there and gone straight home to think this whole hare-brained idea over again. After all, the only information I had to go on had been delivered by a Faelorehn woman I'd never met before. How did I know she wasn't trying to make a fool out of me? _Go home Meg,_ I told myself, _go home and think about this. Cade may need your help, but at least go back home and get your bow and arrows._

Cursing silently to myself for being so scatter-brained that I'd forgotten the very weapon I could use to fight the faelah, I started to turn and head back out the way I had come. I didn't even get the chance to see the light pouring from the mouth of the cave several feet away. Something caught me and refused to let go. It wasn't anything physical; it was as if some sixth sense inside of me had magnetic qualities and that another magnet, located in that great void I was sure stood gaping in front of me, had sensed its presence and was pulling it forward.

The sensation grew stronger and soon I felt myself being dragged forward. I grasped at the wall with my hands but it was no use. With a great cry and a rush of fear, the cold air intensified and swallowed me whole. To my great relief, I blacked out before I could experience anything else.

* * *

I can't say how long I was out, nor can I describe the strange and terrifying dreams that haunted me while I lay unconscious. All I can say is that some undeterminable amount of time after being sucked into that black, cold void inside the cave, I woke up gasping for air as if I had stopped breathing altogether.

My head was killing me, I felt like I was going to throw up, and if I hadn't known any better, I would have sworn I'd been in a horrible car accident. Every bone in my body hurt. I had no idea human beings had so many bones. Oh wait, scratch that, I wasn't a human being.

Groaning, I tried to sit up. I still hadn't opened my eyes. My eyelids were too tired to lift. Thick, damp, soft moss or grass gave under the pressure of my hand and a cool mist caressed my skin like a chilly blanket. I managed to push myself back a little, my shoulders coming into contact with what felt like a great granite gravestone. My stomach lurched again and fear shivered down my spine. If I was in a graveyard, I think I might just faint.

Finally, I managed to crack my eyes open, then blinked in surprise at what I saw. The sky was thick with heavy mist, but all around me, in a large circle, were tall, natural pillars of granite.

At first I had the ridiculous notion that the dolmarehn I had entered had thrown me onto the Salisbury Plain and smack center within Stonehenge, but as my senses returned I realized that that couldn't be right and for a few reasons. First, I could almost see the tops of these stones and the monoliths at Stonehenge were much taller. Second, the circle couldn't be more than fifteen feet in diameter. Third, and this was when that fear started clenching my stomach again, there was a gateway directly across the circle from me.

I knew it was a gateway because it had to be where I'd come from. It looked like those stone dolmens you see on the covers of photography books featuring Ireland; two large slabs of rock topped with a third, creating a doorway. This doorway was pressed into the side of a small hill and yawned black and menacing, as if the stones were merely outlining some deep cave. Above it, on the hilltop, stood an old gnarled oak tree.

Glancing around, I noticed more oak trees. I came to the conclusion that this gateway to the Otherworld sat on the highest point in the middle of a small oak grove, for the quiet trees stood all around, their eerie silhouettes scattered about in the fog.

I took a deep breath and scooted myself further up into a sitting position, using the closest stone as a backrest. It dawned upon me then that maybe I had been launched out of the dolmarehn and slammed up against this rock. That would explain the full-body ache. But why was I here . . . ? Oh right, _Cade_.

A quiet rustling soon drew my attention away from everything else. I squinted into the fog, my heart pounding as I wondered what might have caused the sound. Out of the mist, a black shape swooped down from the oak tree above the Otherworldly gate and came to rest atop one of the stone monoliths. It bent its neck and let out a long, mournful caw, sending goose bumps up my arms. It was the raven that had been stalking me for the past several months, I was certain.

In the next breath, the bird swooped down to join me and as it descended the strangest thing happened. Its feathers melted away and its legs grew longer. It was morphing into a figure before my very eyes, and by the time it landed on the ground it had become a woman dressed all in black. Her transformation from bird to woman had been so smooth and flawless that all I could do was gape. Yet, that wasn't the only reason I was gaping. As she approached I got a good look at her face. Pale white, flawless skin, obsidian black hair, blood-red lips and violet eyes. It was the Faelorehn woman who had begged for my help: Cade's girlfriend.

"Hello Meghan," she said in a frighteningly calm voice. "I am so glad you could finally make it. Welcome to Eile."

I can't say how I did it, but somehow I managed to speak, asking the question I should have asked to begin with, "Who are you?"

She crossed her arms and arched one of those perfect eyebrows. If anything, her unearthly beauty and overwhelming presence was magnified here, on this foggy, wooded hillside full of stone columns.

"Oh, I have a few names," she said nonchalantly. "Some call me Neaim, others Macha. I've also gone by Badb on occasion."

I was confused. There was something familiar about those names, but I just couldn't put my finger on it. I think it had mostly to do with my aching head, but I must admit a good deal of it was because of the fear I felt brewing in my heart. This woman was dangerous. I could feel that more than ever now, as if she had a hurricane brewing within her and she was just waiting to unleash it at the right time.

"But," she continued, "you might know me best as the Morrigan."

And at that moment it dawned upon me just how stupid and suicidal crossing into the Otherworld had really been.

"Where is Cade?" I whispered, my head lowered so she wouldn't see my fear. _The Morrigan was Cade's girlfriend!?_ Just how much had he been keeping from me? And who must he be to be dating one of the most powerful of the Celtic deities?

"I have sent him off on a tedious mission so that we might have a little one on one time together," the woman, no, the _goddess_ , answered. "You see, I've been looking for you for a long time Meghan, and he was supposed to bring you directly to me if he ever found you. But he was becoming distracted, so naturally I reassigned him. Sorry about that little fib earlier, but you really were being very difficult. I had to get you to cross over somehow."

Wait, _what?_ What was she talking about? She had been looking for me? Oh wait, she was the raven . . . But _why_ had she been looking for me? And what did she mean Cade was getting distracted? By what? And how had she reassigned him? I braved a glance at her, but her eyes were unreadable. Terrifying, sadistic and now those very eyes were phasing from violet to crimson.

"What sort of mission did you send him on?" I braved, my voice quavering a little. "And what do you want with me?"

The last conversation I'd had with Cade came screaming back into my mind. _"Some people would rather see you dead than risk learning whether or not you are a threat."_

_Oh Meghan, what have you done . . . ?_

"This conversation grows tiresome," the Morrigan said rather boorishly, "time to finish the job Cade failed to do. Silly, sentimental little boy," she continued as if I wasn't there anymore. "I really must have a word with him about that."

She started to wander off, the skirts of her black dress taking on a life of their own, stirring and mixing with the mist around her feet. I realized they were made of shadow and smoke and something else . . . death.

"Wait!" I croaked, reaching out with a trembling hand. What did she mean finish the job Cade had failed to do? And how could he be with someone like her? True, she was a beautiful goddess, but from what I'd learned from my research, she loved nothing more than to reign down war and strife upon those she ruled over. How could the Cade I know, the thoughtful, caring Cade, care about someone so twisted and cruel? _Because you don't really know him at all, do you Meghan?_ a little voice inside me said. _Perhaps he's been playing you all along . . ._

Despite my wretched state, my stomach had the nerve to give off a twinge of pain and regret when I conjured Cade to my thoughts. I knew my conscience was right, that Cade had probably used me, but it still hurt nonetheless.

The Morrigan turned her head and peered back at me from over her shoulder, her perfectly plucked, black eyebrow arched in annoyance once again.

"No, you miserable _fae strayling_ , you do not address me," she all but hissed. "I am the Queen of Darkness and I have decided you may no longer exist."

Real fear gripped me then, not just at this terrifying being's words, but at the fact that she seemed to grow larger in size, the darkness she so claimed as her own spreading out from her like a black mist to dance and mingle and curl along the ground and in the trees surrounding us.

I could have sworn I heard voices whispering then.

_Beware Meghan! Beware!_ they seemed to say.

It took me a whole five seconds to realize it was the oak trees.

_Beware Meghan!_ they warned. But I was afraid it was too late.

The Morrigan closed her eyes and let her shoulders relax; her arms to drift away from her body. She lifted her face to the grey sky and began chanting, a deep, resonant melody that made my blood freeze and my breath catch. The words she spoke were ancient, archaic, and although I couldn't understand them, I knew their meaning.

The earth beneath me trembled slightly and the oaks, once so still and solemn in the mist, began quaking as if in fear. The sound of splitting rocks filled the air and the clouds above began to swirl. I decided right then and there that this whole strange scene had to be just another nightmare. Only, this one felt real.

A strange crackling began to blend with the cacophony of chanting, rumbling and rustling, and when I dared take a good look at the changing scene around me, I nearly screamed. Dark figures had started crawling from the small middens dotting the hillside, looking like some horrible horde of grotesque cicadas unearthing themselves after their seven years of dormancy.

The creatures that crawled forth out of the earth were something from a horror movie. Some looked like corpses of bony goblins, vaguely resembling human beings. They walked like spiders and insects, ropes of fur and hair hanging from their rotting flesh. Some had violent, red eyes while others seemed to have no eyes at all. Jagged teeth and long snouts, horns and leathery wings adorned the bedraggled gargoyle-like demons. As they drew closer to our stone circle, hissing and spitting and growling in rage, the Morrigan continued her endless chant, her cruel laughter tainting her ancient words as she called upon her minions to do her dirty work. A horrible smell soon followed them and I had to cover my mouth and nose to keep from gagging.

Screaming in terror once again, I tried to scramble to my feet but I think my leg might have been broken. Wincing in pain and fighting back tears, I darted my eyes around to look for something to defend myself with. A chunk of rock, possibly broken during the initial earthquake of the Morrigan's calling, lay within arm's length. I launched myself at it, falling on my stomach. At first I thought to throw it at the closest faelah demon, but then another thought came to mind. If I threw it at the Morrigan, would it distract her?

Without giving it another thought, I drew back and launched the stone with all my might. It flew towards the Celtic goddess but bounced off some invisible force field surrounding her like a bird smacking into a window. She didn't even falter in her chanting. I had wasted a perfectly good projectile and now the creatures were moving closer.

Just then a terrible baying broke through the scratching and hissing of the creatures. My stomach curled up in dread once again. The corpse hounds. The Cumorrig. I knew that sound well and any shred of hope or bravery I might have had left fled in the next instant.

Swallowing hard and trying to see through the blurry tears pouring from my eyes, I snatched up a fallen oak branch and huddled near the stone slab I had woken up against. I would fend them off as long as I could, but I knew I was a goner. I thought of my family, my mom and my dad and my brothers. They would come home to find me gone without a trace, only a note saying I'd be out late. I would become another one of those lost girls, abducted by aliens or murdered and well disposed of. How long would my family search for me? Would they ever give up, even when they never found me?

Finally, I thought of Cade. Oh how I had trusted him. Why had I trusted him? Why did he have to betray me? I gasped and my sobs grew stronger as the creatures inched closer. The hounds were getting nearer as well and I could hear their yipping as their excitement grew. My impending demise approached, and the Morrigan continued to chant her death song.

The first hound circled and snapped at the closest faelah demon. For a few minutes a fight ensued, but the corpse dog easily won, tearing the wings of the creature to shreds. The sound of its pain made me even more nauseated. The Cumorrig moved in, panting and growling, squaring its shoulders for attack. I closed my eyes and waited for impact.

A sharp pain in my leg was the first sign my death was occurring. I screamed and beat at the dog with the stick, but it did no good. Like a swarm of sharks waiting for that first drop of blood to hit the water, the other hounds and creatures swarmed in. I felt them tearing at my clothes and hair, the dull sting of their sharp teeth, twisting my arm almost to the breaking point. I screamed and fought back.

Despite the pain, I was able to make contact with the branch and chase off a few, but there were just too many. I felt my strength sapping, but just before I drifted towards unconsciousness, a shout of sheer anger and desperation split the air. The creatures of darkness blanched for a second and the Morrigan's incessant chanting faltered.

I heard a feminine gasp and the rustling of feathers followed by a loud, furious cawing. The dogs began yowling again and I could feel more than see the demons retreating to their holes. They weren't fast enough though, for something terrifying swept into my circle of stones and started to wreak havoc.

I cracked my eyes open as far as they would go and saw the strangest thing in front of me. Of course, it was only my delirium. Cade was standing there, looking more terrifying than I could ever remember. He seemed to be growing larger, his thick hair forming into spikes, as if some imaginary hand was adding hair gel and forcing it to stand on end. For some reason, the hair stylist decided to add dye to it because I could see beads of dark red gathering at the tips. I chuckled, coughing on blood. Who would want to dye Cade's hair red? It was already that color.

It was when Cade's body started distorting into the most grotesque shapes I had ever seen this side of some zombie apocalypse movie that I decided my brain must be shutting down, and that this was the death throes I had been expecting. It was like watching a car accident in slow motion or witnessing a cartoon character from one of my brother's favorite shows going bonkers. I had no desire to witness it, but like a drug, the macabre scene drew my eye like a moth to the flame.

An unknown amount of time passed and I could no longer see Cade, but I could still hear what was going on. He must have been ripping the Cumorrig and the demon things apart, because I could hear them wailing and screeching in pain. The racket probably would have hurt my ears, that is, if I could still feel anything. A blur of pale fur swept by, emitting a sharp bark. _Fergus!_

Suddenly, the horrible screeching stopped and all was still. I wondered if Cade and the creatures had killed one another, but a few minutes later I felt the presence of someone or something approach. Someone strong scooped me up and cradled me against their chest. _Cade._ Unfortunately, I was too numb to enjoy the experience, or to remember that he had a girlfriend and that he didn't care about me at all.

"Meghan!" he breathed close to my ear, his voice sounding harsh and broken. "Oh no, stay with me darling girl."

_I'll try,_ I thought, _but I think you're a bit too late._ Why was I being so reasonable? This was the guy who was dating the Morrigan, the same guy who had apparently lied to me. So why didn't I push him aside? Oh yes, that's right; I was in shock and since I probably only had a few minutes left to live, I wasn't about to reject the attentions of the guy I'd been pining after for the last several months. Immortal or not, the faelah had gotten the better of me and I was definitely dying.

Cade gently pushed his hand up against the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my snarled hair. He was saying something against my ear in that archaic language the Morrigan had used and he was planting kisses on my temple. My stomach fluttered. Not with nausea this time, but with a warm joy. Could it really be happening, or was I imaging it?

_Oh, please kiss me for real,_ I thought.

Then I almost felt like laughing out loud, if I were even remotely close to being fully conscious. There I was, dying on the boundaries of some mystical Otherworld, and all I could think about was this dangerous infatuation I had with some Faelorehn hunter who supposedly was in a relationship with a powerful and beautiful Celtic deity. It was official then: my brain must be fading away with the rest of me.

Cade was no longer speaking but his lips were moving from my temple, to my cheek, to the corner of my mouth that wasn't stained with blood, trailing kisses the entire way. I waited for his lips to finally meet mine, but fate was cruel and I died before I could experience that first and last kiss.

* * *

Bright lights flashed far above me and it felt like I was floating. I heard urgent voices, shouting and barking out orders. Was I in heaven? Hell? Knowing how my life had been going for the past several months, I wouldn't be surprised if I ended up in either place.

Eventually, the flashing lights stopped and I detected one steady, bright glare. A sting in my arm, the sound of metal clattering on metal, more voices, an incessant beeping sound and then my awareness faded away again.

I woke in a hospital room, completely disoriented and utterly confused. There were hospitals in the afterlife? A nurse came over to check on me, grinning and making some comment about getting my family. I was alive? After all that had happened? Wait, what had happened? I couldn't remember. All I could recall was that I had been so sure I was dying. Guess I'd been wrong.

Mom and Dad looked ragged, as if they had been up a week straight. My brothers came bounding in, all of them either drying their eyes or trying very hard not to burst into tears.

They explained to me that I had been attacked by some stray dogs or coyotes near my high school. A man driving by saw it all and managed to pull the dogs off of me, then drove me to the hospital. My parents were disappointed that he hadn't left his name, but apparently I had been lucid enough to give him my name and address.

I had only been in the hospital for the night, though it felt like a week. I had plenty of bruises, some deep lacerations that needed stitches and my left leg had been fractured. I had also hit my head pretty hard but they patched me up, put a cast on my leg and proclaimed me fit enough to leave the hospital.

Mom set me up in my bed once we got back home and brought me a pitcher of sweetened iced tea with lemons. She positioned the pillows so that I could sit up and read or watch TV or work on the variety of crossword puzzles and word searches she'd gathered for me.

"The doctor said you should take it easy for the next few days to make sure you don't suffer any more after effects of your concussion," Mom said.

I nodded. Just doing that hurt.

She let out a troubled breath and shook her own head. "A pack of dogs, I can't believe it. What is a pack of dogs doing wandering around the neighborhood?"

She sounded so disbelieving, but not in a way that suggested she didn't believe what had happened to me. There were a few junkyards in the industrial neighborhood on the other side of the highway, but they only kept one or two dogs to warn off any miscreants. Most dogs around here were either friendly or fiercely guarded their own yards.

She shook her head again and said, "I just hope Animal Control finds them before they can hurt anyone else."

Her voice was shaky and I knew she was trying hard not to burst into tears. My mom was tough, she had to be with all my brothers, but when something serious happened she let her emotions show.

I sighed and rubbed my arm. It was sore where the IV had been and where the nurses had given me a rabies shot, just to be safe. I grimaced. I couldn't wait until everyone at school heard about that. I predicted a whole new onslaught of nicknames coming my way.

Mom kissed me on the top of my head once more, her eyes shining with the emotion she was trying so hard to keep at bay, and then instructed me to send her a text on her cell phone if I needed anything. I told her I would be fine, but I picked up my phone and held it up to reassure her. Casting me one last smile, she made her way up my spiral staircase and disappeared through the trap door.

Feeling overwhelmingly blessed about my current state of existence, I huffed a great sigh and leaned fully into my pillows. If my parents had any idea what had really happened . . . I screwed up my face. But what exactly _had_ happened? It was still all a blur to me, the details at least, but I did recall crossing over into the Otherworld and then being almost immediately attacked by a contingent of monsters. I had done something to defend myself, something pathetic like picking up a rock or a stick. I really needed more practice with the lessons Cade had been giving me.

I cringed at the thought of Cade. Had that really been him when I was certain I was dying? Had he really managed to thwart the Morrigan and chase away her monsters and hounds? Or had that just been another one of my delusions? Had he really held me in his arms and had he truly kissed me before I lost consciousness? And if so, could everything that the Morrigan said to me be a lie? _Duh Meghan, she lured you into the Otherworld to kill you. Time to re-evaluate your opinion about Cade . . . again._

I sighed and turned my head towards the sliding glass door that looked out into my backyard. It was early evening and the shadows of the trees were painting gray streaks across the lawn. It didn't matter if Cade had come to help me, for I had a terrible feeling I would never see him again.

Tears pricked my eyes and an ache worked its way up into my throat. As I drifted off to sleep, three thoughts surfaced to my mind. First, I prayed to whatever gods existed that the memories of my ordeal wouldn't haunt me during my sleep. Second, I asked those same deities that the Morrigan would think I was dead and therefore wouldn't come back for me. And lastly, I hoped with all my heart that Cade was safe somewhere in the Otherworld. Despite my mixed feelings towards him and regardless of the fact that the Morrigan seemed to have a significant amount of control over him, I only wished him well. Perhaps I really did love him, for why else would I feel this way towards someone who very well may have forsaken me?

-Twenty-

Explanation

When I opened my eyes again it was just before dawn. I wasn't sure what had woken me, for the silence in my room and just outside my doors was almost deafening. I had to just lie in bed for a few minutes as my muddled mind resurfaced. The medication they had given me at the hospital must have lingered longer than I thought. Finally, I took a deep breath and glanced towards the glass door. I nearly screamed in surprise.

"Fergus!" I meant to shout, but it only came out as a croak.

The great white wolfhound panted just outside my door, looking like a ghost against the early morning fog. I threw back the covers and made to get out of bed but the cast caught my eye. Ah, yes. Broken leg. Maybe Mom had left me some crutches . . . I looked around then sighed. No luck. I contemplated hop-limping over to the door but as soon as I put pressure on the leg, I cried out in pain.

I sat on the edge of my bed, the sheets thrown back, feeling rather forlorn. I was wearing a pair of boxer shorts bedecked with my favorite cartoon characters from my middle school years and an old, faded t-shirt. I reached up and touched my hair. Yep, it was a mess. I hadn't had a chance to take a good look at the bruises that decorated my face or the stitches in my shoulder and neck, but I'm sure it made me look like some sort of teen version of Frankenstein's monster. _Oh well,_ I thought with a grin, _it's only Fergus who's seeing me like this._

I glanced up, hoping that the hound hadn't left, and then I nearly fell out of bed in shock. Fergus wasn't alone anymore. A tall figure stood at my door, one hand on the hound's head and the hood of his long trench coat pulled up. Of course, the first emotion that rushed through me was relief followed by a tidal wave of mortification. Oh, what a sight I must be! I scrambled to cover myself with my sheets and blanket, well aware of the view Cade surely had been given. _At least the bruises will hide the blush,_ I thought in misery.

Cade must have been waiting for something, because he continued to stand at the door, looking straight ahead. I couldn't see his face clearly, but I knew his eyes were trained on me. After a few more seconds I realized he was waiting for me to give him permission to enter my room. My dark, cluttered, too-many-personal-things-left-out-for-him-to-see room. I bit my lip. Should I let him come in? I glanced around in embarrassment. Dirty clothes were scattered everywhere, my desk was untidy and my bathroom could have used a good cleaning. I was dressed in nothing but some unfeminine boxer shorts and a hole-ridden t-shirt, my hair a rat's nest and my face looking like a demented artist's pallet.

I glanced back up again. Cade still stood there but Fergus seemed to have wandered off, perhaps to act as a lookout. I wasn't ready to face Cade yet; at least I didn't think I was. I still wasn't sure what his intentions were. From the beginning he had seemed to be there to help me, but in retrospect, why would he? I was a stranger and his job was to round up wayward Faelorehn and the lost creatures of the Otherworld to bring them back to where they belonged. So why hadn't he done that with me? Why hadn't he returned me to the Otherworld when he had found me to begin with? There had to be a reason and I wasn't sure if I wanted to know that reason yet. The Morrigan could have been lying when she had said something about Cade having a mission, but she also could have been telling the truth.

I sighed. I shouldn't let Cade in but the fact that he was waiting for my permission was a good sign. Besides, deep down, I really wanted to know if that had been him on the other side of the dolmarehn. If he had saved me in the end or if it had just been an illusion on my part. And if he had saved me . . . Well, then perhaps he wasn't as bad as the Morrigan had tried to paint him. And I really wanted to see him again, desperately, if only to hear his voice and simply bask in his presence.

Taking a deep breath, I looked up and nodded once. My door must have been unlocked because he slid it open with a cool swoosh. Funny, I'd been so careful to keep it locked of late . . .

Stepping out of the fog and into my room, Cade delicately pulled back his hood and began to take off his trench coat. He folded it and set it on the small futon against the far wall of my room and padded silently forward. He wore his customary jeans, t-shirt and boots, but there was something about his stance that was off. He was still walking around as if he had been running a marathon every day for the past several weeks.

The lighting was bad in my room, the only brightness coming from the foggy dawn outside and the weak night light in my bathroom. As dark as it was it still couldn't hide the signs of stress on Cade's face. I almost gasped when I finally got a good look at him. He was incredibly pale, much more so than the last time I had seen him. Dark circles shadowed his eyes and his breathing even seemed troubled; shallow and uneven. If I didn't know any better I would have said he'd just been released from a quarantined room after barely surviving a bad case of the Ebola virus.

I cast aside my uncertainty. "Cade," I whispered, reaching out a hand and forgetting about my ridiculous pajamas.

He grimaced and avoided my touch. That's right. It wasn't as if he was _my_ boyfriend. Who was I to offer comfort?

"I'm so sorry Meghan," he whispered, his voice raspy and full of remorse.

I opened my mouth to argue with him but realized he had said nothing worth arguing with.

He ran his hands over his gaunt face and through his hair. If he had been trying to wipe away his weariness, he had failed.

"This is all my fault." He glanced at my cast-encased leg.

I self-consciously threw my comforter over it and blushed. When had my covers shifted off of me?

"I should have explained more to you, much more, but I didn't think . . ."

He heaved a sigh of frustration and just barely kept himself from punching the wall. He glanced around my room, spotted my desk chair (strewn with all my sweatshirts and jackets) and dragged it over so that he could sit facing me. My wayward clothing fell off in an accusing manner as he pulled the chair in place. He dropped into it, the legs creaking under his weight.

He rested his elbows on his knees and thrust his hands through his hair again, his face bent towards his lap. I got the impression he wanted to pull his hair out.

An eternity seemed to pass and I had no idea what to say, to do, to think. Just a few short hours ago I was sure Cade wanted nothing to do with me, that he had betrayed me and had been using me all along. But his behavior now proved otherwise.

Finally he spoke, though he still sat with his head in his hands.

"You should never have crossed over into the Otherworld."

His statement was so quiet I almost didn't hear him.

"And because I was so arrogant and preoccupied with my own troubles, I never stopped to consider that _she_ would figure it out. It's my fault, all my fault."

I didn't like the way this conversation was going; Cade talking as if I wasn't sitting right in front of him and not explaining anything he was saying. He didn't sound right, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders; as if Atlas had given Cade his burden and now he searched me out as someone to confide in. Only, Cade seemed to be confessing, not confiding.

Eventually, he sat up and looked me straight in the eye. His eyes, usually always so dark green, looked impossibly pale now. Pale and empty, just like the rest of him. What had happened to make him look so sickly? A pang of fear shot through me. Yes, I may have been slightly angry with him and terribly confused, but that part of me, the part that created my sentimental emotions, reminded me that no matter what he said or did, I would still love him.

"Meghan, do you know what a geis is?" he finally said.

Uh, _geis?_ "No," I answered honestly. To my great relief he elaborated.

"A geis is like a taboo, something that you must never do or else there will be dire consequences. It is prevalent throughout the old Irish folk legends, but it was really a safeguard instituted by the Faelorehn when we first crossed over into this world."

He paused and gave me his characteristic grin. Only, there was too much sadness behind it for me to really enjoy it.

"It kept our kind in check, so that they would not take complete advantage of the human race. It gave us limits, boundaries you could say."

Okay, I think I got all that, but why was he telling me this now?

He gave a huge sigh and when he spoke to me next, he kept his eyes lowered and his voice soft.

"I have a geis, and so do you. Well, I should say we each had a geis."

I felt my mouth go dry. " _Had_?"

Cade looked up at me then, his eyes haunted and his mouth grim. He nodded once, and then lowered his eyes again.

"Wait, what do you mean, _had_?"

"You had a geis, and because of me it has been broken."

"What?" I blurted, sitting up straighter. "What do you mean, my geis is broken? How can someone break their geis if they don't even know what it is?"

He grimaced again. "Believe me," he grumbled, "it happens all the time in the Otherworld. Here on earth humanity might call it irony."

My head was spinning again, and not because of the crazy antibiotics and painkillers the doctors had subscribed for my injuries.

"Cade," I licked my lips and swallowed my fear, "please explain. What happens if you break your geis?"

He nodded and took a deep breath. "I never thought you would actually come after me, but I should have seen it coming, especially after I learned who had spoken to you . . ."

I cringed. Oh. So he knew that the Morrigan had paid me a visit? I merely nodded for him to go on, once again hoping my bruises hid my red face.

He sat up fully and drew his shoulders back. He gasped and clutched his arm. Without thinking, I reached out to him again.

"No," he murmured, his eyes drifting shut, "I do not deserve your compassion."

More stung than anything, I let my arm drop, the hurt written all over my battered face.

"When I tell you, you will understand," Cade said as way of an explanation.

"In those first few weeks after I discovered you, I came to suspect there was much more to you than I originally thought, Meghan Elam. When all evidence proved as such, I made it my own personal goal to find out as much about you as I could. I tracked down an acquaintance who was able to help me discover who your real parents are. He is the one who suggested you might be Tuatha De and Fomorian. But I have spoken to him since I passed this information on to you, and if he is correct in his most recent discovery, then you are far more than a simple half Tuatha De, half Fomorian castaway stuck in the mortal world."

I felt a strange shock of fear and delight rush through me. Who was I then?

Cade held up a hand. "It's just speculation. We have no real proof yet, but the longer I consider it, the more firmly I believe it."

"Who am I Cade?" I had to know. After learning about the Faelorehn and discovering that I was one of the immortal beings of the Otherworld, I had been dying to know who I was, where I had come from. Who I belonged to.

Cade smiled sadly. "I'm sorry Meghan, but I cannot tell you that. Maybe one day, but not now."

Severe disappointment hit me first, then anger. I crossed my arms and let my chin drop. Tears pricked at my eyes once again.

"I deserve to know," I whispered harshly.

"You do," Cade agreed. "But I cannot tell you. Not now."

He sounded pained, as if he wished to tell me more than anything. Then it dawned upon me.

"Your geis," I said simply. He couldn't tell me because it would break his geis. But hadn't he implied he had already broken it? Yes, when he had been talking about mine.

Cade nodded. "It is more the consequences of my actions. I violated my own geis and now I must pay. One of my punishments includes keeping certain information to myself. I have no control over this."

I looked up at him. "How did you break your geis?" I didn't really expect him to answer, but it didn't hurt to ask.

He took a long, deep breath, as if he were preparing to brace himself against something terribly unpleasant. "I violated my geis the night that you were attacked, but even much longer before that. What the Morrigan said to you that night was true. It was my job to find you and bring you back, though she didn't know it would be you in particular I would find. It was sheer luck that I stumbled upon you. When she found out, she wanted you dead." I gasped and he held up a hand. "Please Meghan, I must tell you this."

I nodded for him to go on, as shocking and frightening as it all was.

"I stalled, tried to change her mind, did everything I could to get her focused on something else. But she wanted you and she wanted you eliminated. It is hard to kill a Faelorehn and only the gods and goddesses themselves cannot die, but I would not kill you Meghan. I _could_ not."

He took a deep breath and seemed to become lost for a second. Then he started speaking again. "When she found out I would not follow through with her plans, she distracted me with an assignment in the Otherworld. I _hate_ myself for that."

This last part he said so quietly I had to crane my neck to hear it.

"That's when she enticed you into our world, in order to destroy you. For, you see, in doing so your geis was broken."

Ah, so we were back to where we'd started.

Cade glanced up at me, a look of determination on his face. "Meghan, I cannot tell you who you are but I can tell you about the geis that was placed upon you. Your parents knew that someday you would be hunted by the Morrigan, so they did what most of our kind do when their child is in danger because of who they are; they sent you to this world. Now your mother was smart. She not only hid you among the humans of this earth, but she placed a geis upon you. And as you now know, no geis comes without a price."

I nodded, the dread in my stomach starting to coagulate like cottage cheese.

"You would remain safe always from the horrors of the Otherworld, if and only if you never crossed into the borders of Eile. So, because of my foolish reluctance to give you certain information, and because of the Morrigan's cruel manipulation, you stepped into the Otherworld and broke your geis."

I didn't know what to say, and if I was being completely honest, I was a bit confused.

"I don't understand," I admitted. "What exactly is, _was_ , my geis?"

"Do you remember all the times you were chased or bothered by some Otherworldly creature?" Cade said.

I nodded. How could I forget?

"And did you ever notice how they always stopped short of harming you? As if an invisible shield of protection surrounded you?"

I clenched my hands into fists and thought back. I remembered how the demon goat-man hadn't been able to touch me, how the raven had slammed into not me, but some force field around me. Even the Cumorrig on that first night I had met Cade . . . Even they hadn't really been able to quite reach me.

Cade nodded solemnly. "You never would have come to harm. Your geis protected you in this world, but since you have crossed over to the Otherworld and stepped foot on Eile's soil . . ."

"I am no longer protected." I looked up at Cade with wide eyes. "I am now free game." And then something else struck me. "That is why the Morrigan didn't kill me in the clearing. She knew she couldn't hurt me here. She knew she had to get me into the Otherworld, to break my geis, to make me vulnerable. That is why she lured me there, not to help you, but-"

I cut myself short when I noticed Cade start. He was giving me his full attention now, gazing at me with those intense eyes of his. "Help me?"

I blushed. Ugh, why couldn't I stop doing that? I hadn't planned on telling him all that . . . I cleared my throat and sighed. This time I was the one to lower my eyes.

"Um, yes. She said you needed my help and that I had some special power or gift that could save you."

Finally I looked up, only to find Cade looking at me in the most bizarre way, as if he were dumbfounded that I would actually enter an unknown world full of monsters in order to help him. Oh yeah, that did sound unbelievable.

He reached out then and took my hand in his own. I was shocked at how cold it was and I almost jerked my own hand away.

"Thank you. I cannot tell you how sorry I am Meghan. You should never have gone with her, but it means a great deal that you would make that sacrifice for me. I don't expect your forgiveness, or your friendship after all this, but I do hope that you know I never meant to harm you."

I nodded, trying to fight the lump in my throat; trying to remember to breathe. Cade had always tried to help me. Despite my current anguish, I was warmed by that thought.

I laughed after a while, though I felt little humor. "I bet your girlfriend is livid with you at the moment. That was you I saw the night she lured me into the Otherworld, right? It was you who fought off the Cumorrig . . . ?"

But my question trailed off when I felt the bones in my hand begin to constrict.

"Cade, you're hurting me," I said, feeling fear once again. Had I said the wrong thing?

I glanced up at him and the look on his face was something between pure disbelief and . . . disgust?

"Girlfriend?" he said harshly.

"Yes, the Morrigan."

I felt foolish all over again but I managed to get my hand back. Why did I have to go and open my big mouth? Could it be that my brain had stopped working since I found out that I had some semi-important Faelorehn parents who had placed a strong geis on me? All after surviving a bizarre, near-death experience? I really needed a vacation away from being me.

Cade was quiet for a long time. "The Morrigan is not my girlfriend. Did she tell you that?"

I bit my cheek. No, she hadn't. But she had implied it.

"I just thought-"

Cade sat up abruptly and looked at me, his gaze hard. I turned away, feeling sheepish. If I blushed any more today my face just might start bleeding. That would be fabulous. Would go well with my stitches and black eye.

Eventually Cade snorted and I was glad to see he had lost that intensity about him. "She _would_ want you to think that," he said almost nonchalantly.

"Oh," was all I could say. "But, I saw you in the woods, and I just thought . . ."

"You saw us in the woods?"

_Oops times infinity._

While I tried to melt away into oblivion, Cade became still, and then a look of realization spread over his face. "So that is why you never showed up for our meeting," he said quietly. "Meghan," he continued gently, "I can't explain what you saw, like the information about your parents, it's something I must keep to myself. But believe me, the Morrigan is most definitely _not_ my girlfriend."

The silence grew between us once again and as I twisted the sheets in my hands, Cade stared down at his interlaced fingers. I could tell he wanted to tell me something more, like lightning charging the air before it struck. I knew it wouldn't be pleasant, but . . . _the Morrigan isn't his girlfriend!_ I tried not to let the glee show on my face.

Cade took a breath and released it slowly. "I must go soon Meghan. I violated my geis, and that is no easily forgivable thing."

It had been said so matter-of-factly that I wondered if he had practiced that exact line before he came to see me.

I bit my lip to keep it from trembling. "Will I ever see you again?"

"Perhaps. When I've done my penance."

Two days ago I would have bitterly wished him gone from my life for good, but after learning he had made such a sacrifice for me, I didn't want to let him go.

"I brought something for you."

Cade reached around and seemed to pull something out of his back pocket. It looked like a metal cord bent to form a C. The two ends were capped with what appeared to be two hounds' heads in the ancient Celtic style. It looked familiar, like the strange metal choker I'd seen him wear before. I glanced up at him. Yes, almost exactly the same, though the intertwined cord on his was thicker than the one he was holding out to me. For a long time, all I could do was stare at the smaller choker, both transfixed and uncertain. The braided cord was a beautiful silver color and the snarling muzzles of the dogs featured finely etched teeth.

Picking up my hand, Cade drew it towards him and placed the Celtic object in my palm, gently curling my fingers over it. The metal was cold, and so were Cade's hands, but when he let his fingers linger on mine for several seconds, the place where his skin touched mine warmed.

"What is it?" I queried silently.

"It's called a torque." He gestured towards his own. "The ancient Celts wore these into battle. It will protect you while I'm gone."

That's when it hit me. Again. I had broken my own geis, a geis that had acted like some sort of invisible monster repellent. Because of my little side trip into the Otherworld, that repellent was now as useful as hand lotion against the sun's radiation. I didn't even try to stop the tears this time.

"Meghan," Cade breathed quietly, moving his hand to rest against my cheek.

I wanted to move in closer to him, but some deep, primal fear of rejection stopped me. _He's only comforting you Meghan because you are doomed._

"Meghan, listen to me," Cade continued, wiping my tears away with his thumb. "You are far more powerful than you know and you cannot forget what I have taught you."

I thought back to the archery lessons he had given me down in the swamp. A fresh wave of tears hit when I remembered that that was when I first realized I was falling for him.

"And I'll leave Fergus with you. He'll let me know if you need me."

"Can't I come with you?"

Cade shook his head with a sad smile. "When you crossed over into the Otherworld, the fae power inside of you woke up, like a dormant seed that tastes the first rain of spring and the first warmth of the sun. It shines brightly Meghan, but remember what I told you? Your own power is like a battery run down."

I blinked in surprise. I felt no different than before, but then again I was still pretty sore from the attack.

I furrowed my brow. "But wouldn't it make sense for me to go with you then? So that I can 'recharge'?"

I sounded desperate and I hated that. But to be left here like a sitting duck for the demonic beasts of Eile to come find me? Surely I was better off with Cade, even if it meant enduring whatever it was he had to do to redeem himself.

"No," he said firmly. "I know it seems like the better option, but even if your fae power were to gain strength, you don't yet know how to use it. I will come back and teach you how to use your gift Meghan, but until then you must stay here. The Cumorrig and their ilk may seem almost invincible to you here, but they are far more powerful in their natural world. Just remain vigilant and remember what I taught you."

I forced a smile. I was truly touched that he was worried for me, but I still didn't want to think about how long he would be gone and how long I would have to fight off the Morrigan's minions on my own. I took a deep breath and forced my tears to stop. It sucked. This whole situation sucked, but it was high time I stop feeling sorry for myself and take Cade's words to heart. True, I hadn't discovered the depths of my Faelorehn power yet, but if he said it was there then I would believe him.

Smiling, I looked up at Cade. He dropped his hand and smiled back.

"Thank you. For the torque."

I wasn't sure how exactly to wear it, but that was soon resolved when Cade stood and placed it around my neck. The cool metal felt comfortingly familiar, the two hounds' heads growling at each other across my throat.

"It suits you," Cade said with a smirk and a glint in his eyes.

My stomach fluttered again.

He tilted his head and glanced over his shoulder. Fergus stood at my door, panting and wagging his tail slightly.

Cade's shoulders slumped again and he looked back at me. "I must go."

I nodded, dropping my eyes again. _I will not cry . . ._

He turned to leave and I reached out, grabbing his hand. "Cade?"

His eyes were no longer so pale, but they held some emotion I couldn't decipher, yet I knew his attention was fully on me. I should have told him then how I felt about him, that he meant a great deal to me. But I was afraid. Afraid of making myself even more vulnerable.

I cleared my throat. "Be careful, please. And come back soon."

He seemed to pause, as if waiting for me to say more. I'm pretty sure that the slight disappointment I read on his face was just in my mind. Eventually he smiled and nodded ever so slightly.

He took back his hand, made it into a fist and held it over his heart. Giving a half bow he said, "I promise."

And then he turned and silently slid open the door, disappearing into the pale mist with a great white hound trailing behind him.

* * *

The school year came to a close with little fanfare, the most exciting event being my deadly encounter with the dogs. By the end of my first week back, the most popular version of the story included some crude remark about starving coyotes and the only reason for my survival being that they weren't that desperate to eat someone like me.

But I didn't let it bother me. I was too fixated on missing Cade. As he had promised, Fergus stood watch at my back door every evening and even followed me to school. During lunch and the times in between classes, I would spot him on the edge of the woods, patiently watching me, making sure no nasty faelah were lurking about. It comforted me because even though Cade couldn't be there, I knew he still thought of me.

I still had trouble sleeping, though that was no big surprise. What with the emptiness I felt without Cade nearby combined with the memories of my ordeal. I never said anything to anyone about what I had learned about myself in the last several months, especially not my family. They had enough to worry about and I'm sure they would insist on taking me to another therapist if I started going into detail about the Faelorehn and my trip to the Otherworld. Nope, I'd had enough of therapists.

I would find a way to manage this on my own, even if it meant remaining vigilant around the clock because some horrifying fae beast could come jumping out at me at any moment. In my current state, I couldn't even outrun a snail, what with my cumbersome crutches. But nothing so much as a demented field mouse eyed me from the bushes in those final weeks before summer, and I was starting to think, no _dread_ , that the Morrigan was gathering her troops to make one grand attack at some point in the future. Let's just say it didn't help with my insomnia.

"So Stitch, what are your plans for summer?" Robyn said, breaking into my wandering thoughts.

I blanched at her new nickname for me. I knew she was trying to make light of the whole situation, and even though the stitches had come out a week ago, she still insisted on the moniker. I resorted to doing what I did best. I ignored the name.

"Hanging around the house probably. Maybe getting a job at one of the cafes in town, if they'll hire me."

It was truthful enough. I would be hanging around the house, hiding from Otherworldly monsters and waiting for Cade to come back. But I would also be preparing. I would take Fergus and go down into the swamp and practice my aim with the bow and special arrows Cade had given me, maybe even give my research into the world of the Celts a renewed visit. But for now, I'd enjoy the final days of being a junior in high school.

I sighed and looked around at my friends. We were all sprawled out on a patch of lawn by the track, taking advantage of the shade cast by a group of sycamores and eating our lunches. Thomas was trying to teach Will how to properly pronounce Spanish, Tully was finishing up some homework she had forgotten to do the night before, and Robyn was picking the black glitter nail polish off of her right index finger.

I smiled. How normal we all looked. But I knew the truth. I was far from being normal, I knew that for certain now, and although I was terrified of what the future might hold for a young Faelorehn in the mortal world, I would not be such a coward any more. I was no longer the timid Meghan Elam of Marshwood Lane in Arroyo Grande, but Meghan, Faelorehn of Eile, and I would be ready for whatever that world had to throw at me.

Acknowledgments

A special thanks to all my professors in the Celtic Studies program at the University of California at Berkeley; for educating me in the mythos that has become the backbone of this series: may I not disappoint you with my creative twist of those sacred legends.

To my friends and family, who never stop supporting me in my crusade to create more worlds. Thank you for understanding that much of my free time belongs to this passion of mine.

Many thanks to P.A. Vannucci for designing the beautiful Faelorehn font for the Otherworld Trilogy.

Finally, a special thanks to Sr. Mary Keavey, for always believing in the things I could accomplish. Also, to Sr. Margaret Malone, who doesn't mind talking about the ancient Celtic tradition of her homeland with me.

About the Author

Jenna Elizabeth Johnson grew up and still resides on the Central Coast of California, the very location that has become the set of her novel, Faelorehn, and the inspiration for her other series, The Legend of Oescienne.

Miss Johnson has a degree in Art Practice with an emphasis in Celtic Studies from the University of California at Berkeley. She now draws much of her insight from the myths and legends of ancient Ireland to help set the theme for her books.

Besides writing and drawing, Miss Johnson enjoys reading, gardening, camping and hiking. In her free time (the time not dedicated to writing), she also practices the art of long sword combat and traditional archery.

For contact information, visit the author's website at:

www.jennaelizabethjohnson.com

Connect with me online:

**Twitter:** <https://twitter.com/AuthorJEJohnson>

**Facebook:** <https://www.facebook.com/authorjejohnson>

**My Website:** <http://www.jennaelizabethjohnson.com/>

**Sign up for my newsletter:** http://jennaelizabethjohnson.us4.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=4574730dcb0b4987359d216bf&id=f27fef4206

Other books by this author:

The Otherworld Trilogy:

Faelorehn (Book One)

Dolmarehn (Book Two)

Luathara (Book Three)

Ehriad (A Novella of the Otherworld)

The Legend of Oescienne Series

The Finding (Book One)

The Beginning (Book Two)

The Awakening (Book Three)

Tales of Oescienne - A Short Story Collection

A sneak peek at the second book in the Otherworld Trilogy, **_Dolmarehn:_**

-One-

Absence

Fifty one days. Fifty one days ago Cade MacRoich walked out of my life like a ghost passing into the hereafter. And no, I haven't been obsessive enough to keep track of the hours and minutes, or even the seconds, but I've felt every last one of them. I probably wouldn't have been so fixated on his absence if he hadn't just up and left the way he did. Of course, at the time I was too distracted by my recent trauma to truly grasp what was going on.

Nearly a year ago I was under the impression that I was just a slightly abnormal teen. Sure, I'm tall and gangly and insecure like everybody else my age, but now I know just _how_ different I am. Then one day this gorgeous guy shows up, out of nowhere, with a very simple explanation for all of my eccentricities: my changeable eyes, my tendency to hear voices and see things, the fact that I'd been found parentless as a toddler, roaming the streets of Los Angeles like a young girl who'd been separated from her mother in the women's clothing section of a super mall . . . He had come to tell me I was Faelorehn, immortal, from the Otherworld.

Shaking my head, I got back to work. Of course, watering Mrs. Dollard's plants didn't take much brain power. I had considered getting a part time job in town this past summer, but when the old lady had come over to ask if I could feed her cats and keep her yard alive while she was in Europe, I accepted right away. She was loaded and she always over-paid me. Besides, working in a cafe or at a local clothing store meant dealing with the public. I didn't do well with the public.

The sharp caw of a crow made me hit the ground like a soldier avoiding gunfire. If acting like an idiot wasn't bad enough, the hose got loose and soaked me. I glanced up and released a sigh of relief. Just a normal crow. I scrambled to my feet and tackled the hose before going over to shut it off. Yes, freaking out at the sound of a crow was weird for any normal person. But when you've spent the last several months dodging a Celtic goddess in raven form, well, any large black bird would give you the heebie-jeebies.

The garden was watered, Mrs. Dollard's five cats were sleeping off a food coma, and the afternoon sun was dipping low in the sky. The giant wet spot on my t-shirt was making me cold, and it was time I headed home anyways. Didn't want to get caught out after sunset. That's when the faelah are the most active . . .

A short bark greeted me as I made my way around the house. I smiled. A great white wolfhound with rusty colored ears sat patiently, panting and grinning.

"Hello Fergus. When's your master coming back?"

I placed a hand on his head and gave him a good scratch. He didn't answer my question, but I didn't expect him to.

Mrs. Dollard's was only a few houses down from my own. Before I stepped inside, however, I kept on walking to the end of the street, bypassing the _Dead End_ sign. I had developed the habit of checking the knothole in the oak tree every day, hoping that Cade had left me a new note.

I frowned in disappointment when the knothole proved empty, but I wasn't surprised. Cade's absence was understandable. A few months ago, I had crossed into the Otherworld thinking that I was going to save him from some cruel fate. Turns out the Morrigan, one of the most powerful of all the Otherworldly deities, had merely wanted me where she could conveniently kill me. Still being pretty ignorant of my roots, I had believed her when she'd told me Cade needed my help. Hey, she'd been very convincing and well, I kind of had a huge crush on the guy, still do. And I'd say it's turned into something much more than a simple crush.

Pushing the hair out of my face, I climbed back up the slope and headed towards my bedroom on the basement floor of our house. I didn't like how much time I spent thinking about Cade; it couldn't be healthy, but he had saved my life after all. And he had been the one to tell me the truth about where I had come from.

My room greeted me with its usual chaos: various items of clothing spread about the floor and furniture, computer screen saver glowing blue and green, comforter and sheets wadded up into an unintelligible mess.

"Meghan!"

I jumped, and then grumbled. "What Logan?"

My younger brother, oldest of the five, stuck his head through the trap door that led up into the main part of the house. His blond hair fell to the side. I grinned. He looked like some miniature version of a pro surfer.

When his eyes found me he piped, "Dinner! Oh, and we're going to the beach for my birthday party tomorrow, remember?"

I cringed inwardly. Oh yeah. Forgot about that one. Logan had turned eleven just over a week ago, but he hadn't had his party because most of his friends were still on their summer vacations.

"Alright," I said, "be up in a minute."

Logan disappeared and I turned to look back through my sliding glass door. Fergus was gone, but I merely shrugged. He did that a lot. I wasn't sure if other people could see him or not (basically, I didn't know if he was visible to mortals), but maybe he didn't want to take the chance.

After quickly changing into a dry t-shirt and a pair of old sweat pants, I made my way up the spiral staircase and out into the circus that was the Elam family.

Mom was darting about the kitchen, getting the last minute dinner items ready, Dad was sitting in his recliner, as usual, reading the paper, and all five of my brothers, Logan, Bradley, Aiden and even the twins, Jack and Joey, were thoroughly engrossed in some science special on TV. I rolled my eyes. It was one of those 'deadliest insects' things and it included a detailed description of what they did that made them so dangerous. I felt my stomach churn when they started describing internal parasites.

"Boys, could you turn that off? We're about to eat dinner!"

Thank goodness for Mom.

We all sat down and tried to commence as a normal family would at mealtime. Too bad we weren't normal. One of us was a Faelorehn from the Otherworld. Of course, none of them knew about my true identity. Like the adoption agency that found me those many years ago, they thought I was just another abandoned human child. I knew if I told my mom and dad what I'd learned over the past year, they wouldn't be able to accept it. Or they would drag me off to another psychologist who would only prescribe mind-numbing medication. No thanks. I'd like to have all my wits about me when the Morrigan decided to attack again, thank you very much.

"Meg, you are coming with us tomorrow, correct?"

My dad's voice snapped me out of my train of thought. I grimaced. I really didn't want to go. Not that I had anything against Logan or birthday parties or even the beach, it's just that ever since my ordeal at the end of spring, I'd been very wary about wandering too far from home. That's what made Mrs. Dollard's offer so appealing. Only four houses down the road, I could manage that . . .

"Sure," I shrugged and stabbed at a few green beans.

" _Sure_?" Mom gave me one of her looks. "Meg, you've been practically cooped up in this house all summer. You only ever leave to take care of Matilda Dollard's cats, take those walks down into the swamp, or to visit Tully."

Okay, I had good reason not to wander far, reasons that had nothing to do with my fear of the faelah creatures creeping out of the dolmarehn hidden deep in the swamp. Up until a few weeks ago I had been in a leg cast, and that really limited my mobility. She couldn't really count visiting Tully, my best friend, as 'never going out'. Tully lived all the way at the head of our street. A good fifteen or so houses down. And my walks in the swamp were quite exciting, really. Or at least they had the potential to be. An Otherworldly creature could show up at any minute and cause quite a stir. And if that Otherworldly creature happened to be Cade . . .

I swallowed and put him as far out of my mind as possible. No need to get all dreamy-eyed at the dinner table. But really, my walks were productive. If Mom knew that I practiced with my longbow and arrows when I went down there, maybe she would change her mind. Of course, I only went down there alone because I knew Fergus would accompany me. If Cade's spirit guide wasn't around, I'd gladly admit defeat and take on the guise of a recluse.

"You have to go Meg!" Logan whined.

I glanced over at him, his blue eyes almost brimming with tears. I felt my heartstrings tighten. How could I deny my little brother anything?

I heaved a great sigh. "What beach again?"

"Avila," Dad said, "we're going to have a bonfire and everything, so be sure to bring your warm clothes. It'll get cold after dark."

I gritted my teeth despite my smile. _After dark . . ._ I had been lucky the past few months. I'd only seen a handful of faelah wandering around in the swamp, but they had been small and Fergus had dealt with them. I had a feeling Fergus would not be accompanying me to the beach, and let's face it, it had just been too long since anything of great significance had happened. I was well over do for a good haunting.

#

# EVER SHADE

A Dark Faerie Tale #1

By

Alexia Purdy

<http://alexiaepurdy.blogspot.com>

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Copyright © October 2012, April 2013 Alexia Purdy

All rights reserved

Published by

Lyrical Lit. Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious and are products of the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual events, or locales or persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

Edited by Michael K. Rose and Jasmine Petricola

Cover Design by Alexia Purdy

Photography used with permission and licenses

© Kristinashu & © Fredvl - Dreamstime.com

Acknowledgements

I want to thank, first and foremost, my husband Joshua Purdy, whom without your love and strength; this could not have come to be. To my family, who are always by my side through all things. Thank you to all my co-workers who read my stories and believed in me no matter what. I want to thank Scott Prussing for all your help. My writing family Linna Drehmel, Jenna Kay, Kyani Swanigan and Madison Daniel - you guys are amazing and some of the most talented people I have ever met. You keep me in awe. With all of you, I've been able to make the dream a reality.

This book is dedicated to my grandmother Edisa Salas. I love and miss you every day. ~Alexia

Prologue

ONE LONG PAUSE and the man pondered the choice he had just made. The faery exile, Verenis, watched the woman and her new husband as they laughed and chatted away inside their house. Her long, honey-brown hair shone in shimmering waves down her back and swung around as her husband twirled her about the kitchen, dancing to the music from the radio, which sat on the windowsill. Verenis didn't acknowledge the pangs of jealously that swirled in his stomach; he had made his decision, and now had to let it play out. She'd be safer this way.

The child would grow without knowing him, without knowing her powerful potential. He would not be there to teach her the ways of their magic and life. It had to be this way and he could not change it, no matter how much he longed to. For the safety of the child and the love of his life, he had erased the woman's memory of him forever. He watched them as the happiness spread across their faces. He had handpicked the man for her, made sure he would be a great father, love the child like his own, and love the woman more than life itself.

The faery closed his eyes, feeling the breezes of the cool winds graze his face. He had never wished to leave her like this. He longed to hold her, and be the one to swing her around in a flowing dance. The tragedy of it all caused a fierce ache in his heart and arrested his breath in his throat. Glancing back to her one more time, he turned away and ran with the wind toward the embrace of the forest.

Chapter One

"YOU DIDN'T REALLY mean that, did you?" Shade said as she observed her friend Brisa, whose face reddened with frustration.

"Rachel had it coming; she's the one who started it!"

Shade looked at her friend's ruined shirt, streaked with the remains of a red strawberry smoothie. The substance was sticking to her, and it felt cold. Her top was no longer the vibrant yellow it'd once been.

"She's a dumb idiot anyway," Brisa muttered. "She shouldn't be calling you those names. I only stated that she was a 'dumb as a wall, self-diluted bitch' in self-defense. I said it for you. Besides, it's only the truth."

Brisa frowned and gave up rubbing at the stain with a washcloth and soap. She pulled the shirt over her head and let it slip to the ground. Glaring at her locker, she realized her only other shirt was her gym T-shirt. It figures there's nothing else to wear. She sighed. "She shouldn't have thrown her smoothie at me. The next time I see her she's going to pay," Brisa hissed and looked at Shade. "You're not a freak. Don't ever believe anything she says. She's wrong!"

Shade peered at her friend. Brisa rarely got along with anyone. Not a day went by that she wasn't in the principal's office cleaning chalkboards, wiping down desks or doing some other tedious job. Many times, she'd received these punishments for whatever trouble she'd gotten into, instead of hanging out with Shade.

Still, Shade had known Brisa since they were toddlers and would stand by her through anything. She was the only one who knew about Shade's strange abilities−hearing voices in her head. Brisa was the only one Shade trusted.

"It's all right, Brisa. I guess I would think I was a freak, too," Shade gave her friend a shrug. "Besides, it's my fault for blurting out what they told me about Rachel. Who would have known she was cheating on the final if I hadn't said anything? She needs to wise up. Well, at least you didn't smash her nose in; you only need one more fight to get that suspension they've threatened you with already. Your mom would hang you!"

Brisa grinned with a slight shudder at the thought of her mother. Brisa's face was smooth and olive-toned with bright blue eyes. Her dark brown hair flowed lazily in waves to her mid back. She wasn't gorgeous, but she wasn't bad looking either. She rarely had makeup on and preferred to wear her hair in a low ponytail instead of letting it flow freely around her shoulders. She was as much of a tomboy as a girl could be−completely opposite of her friend's more girly disposition. Shade's dark, brown hair was similar but longer than her friend's, and her complexion creamier. Otherwise, they looked a lot like sisters.

"Like I need help in that department," Brisa groaned as she pulled her hair out from the collar of her gym shirt and smoothed the wrinkles down. Brisa and her mother rarely got along. She tended to spend more time at Shade's house than at her own.

Shade pulled out her cell phone to peek at the time. It was getting late, and their afternoon class was starting in two minutes. Dropping the phone back into her bag, she scooped it up before shoving away her own long, brown locks. She tapped her friend's shoulder, urging her to hurry. "Gotta go, do you want to be late? Ms. Temor is going to lock us out! Chop, chop!" Shade turned and sprinted toward the entrance to the locker room and shoved the heavy metal doors out of her way.

"Wait up!" Brisa called as she stuffed her ruined shirt into her backpack. She stumbled behind Shade and cleared the doors just before they slammed shut.

*****

SHADE SIGHED. SHE swung her legs down from the stone ledge she had propped herself on by the main entrance of the school. Might as well start walking, she thought. Her mom had forgotten to pick her up again, and it was a long walk home. Her backpack was heavy, but not as much as some days when her homework was piled high. Luckily, today was a light homework day.

The warm air rippled along Shade's face. The final bell had rung ages ago, yet here she was, still waiting, again. Brisa rode the Portland, Oregon city bus home and was long gone. Shade wished she had hopped onto that bus with her friend. This had been happening too often lately. Mom has too much on her plate, Shade thought. Her full time job, two sons and Shade's younger sister kept her so busy. Shade, being the oldest, was on her own.

The streets were quiet as she walked home. A slight breeze swept up some litter and floated it past her. She was feeling good, especially compared to how she'd felt a couple of weeks ago, when she had caught pneumonia, The illness had caused Shade to miss a lot of school, and her grades had taken a beating. She'd been feeling pretty out of it for the past month. Now, she wasn't so sure she'd be able to get caught up enough to raise some of her D's to B's, much less A's again. One class was still an F.

Squeezing her eyes together, she gritted her teeth and tried to not imagine having to endure getting an F for the first time in her life. She'd graduate either way, but the drop in GPA was not going to go over well with her. Shade sighed and looked ahead, hoping her luck would get better soon.

The bright sun was glaring down, and it reflected off the white concrete sidewalk like a floodlight, blinding her. Shade's little brother, James, had smashed her last pair of sunglasses just two days before while playing one of his infinitely, highly imaginative games. She wished she had replaced them already.

Shade passed the main streets of the city and continued walking down the sidewalk, skipping over cracks on the aged concrete. The roads turned into longer stretches of periodic houses and empty lots as the worn brick buildings of the city's center faded behind her.

"Only a whole mile or so to go," Shade mumbled to herself. Both her feet ached a little. She was thankful she'd worn tennis shoes today instead of her usual thin flats. Still, she wasn't used to walking so much since it was only her third day back to school. Feeling one of her shoelaces loosen as it began to whip her calf and flop around, she stopped walking and bent down to retie it firmly.

Hesitating, she glanced up and scanned the street and the warehouses, which surrounded her. The cool autumn breeze whirled around her, causing the fallen leaves to float in the wind and sling dust into the air. She squeezed her eyes shut and let the dust and debris blow past her before getting back up.

Holding her breath, she could've sworn she'd heard something. Is it footsteps? It was like someone scurrying about, or running, but also trying to be quiet about it. Shade peered around her, surveying the area. Whatever it was, it seemed to have come from the abandoned warehouse to her right. She studied the dilapidated brick structure; it was the only tall building for miles, and it gave her the creeps. She listened hard for anything to betray itself but heard nothing. The windows were mostly boarded-up and weeds littered the ground all around it.

Go inside, now.

Shade paled. She hadn't heard the voices sound so desperate in quite a while, and this was not good. It was not her inner voice or her conscience. It was very different, like someone else whispering into her ears, but she was the only one who could hear them. Shade had never been able to explain it to anyone, mostly because it would've just sounded so crazy.

They were more like some sort of entities who spoke to her inside her head and asked her to do their bidding. Shade never understood the reasons why. The voices would become clearer and stronger when they wanted her to do something specific. It wasn't ever anything absolutely insane like killing someone. That comforted her, but nevertheless, she cringed at the sound of their voices tingling in her ears. No one knew of this ailment except Brisa.

Shade shuddered as she thought about telling someone else about them. No one would understand or even look at her like a normal person again if she told anyone. She'd become another institutionalized, psychotic, hormonal teenager.

They'd think I was another paranoid schizophrenic teenager if I told anyone, she thought. Can't go to any loony house where they pump me up with drugs until I'm comatose. I can't.

Hurry, said the voices.

Hurry to what? Shade inquired silently. There's nothing here!

Quick, they told her with urgency.

Shade pressed her lips together. She had to obey. The voices wouldn't leave her alone if she defied them, and she couldn't handle that. She had tried to not listen to what they wanted once before, and there had been dire consequences. Three nights of relentless chatter inside the head was enough to drive anyone to a nuthouse. She couldn't go through that again.

Okay already!

She bent over and slipped through a hole in the fence that was nearest to her. The building looked even scarier up close. The wind howled around her, whipping her long, brown hair up and caused it to smack her face. It was as if it was taunting her decision to inspect the building. The front door had been boarded-up with thick bolts and two by fours. Apparently, no one was meant to enter this place.

There's no way in, where do I get in?

The basement, the voices said together.

Shade gulped. It would be dark in the basement, and whatever was in there would not be welcoming her. She didn't even have a flashlight. Nothing good would come of this at all. Even so, she walked around the building toward the rear, searching for any openings.

And there it was: a small, dusty and rusted window near the ground. As she knelt down, the rocks crunched under her feet and dug into her knees. She lowered herself so that she was level with the window and frowned. The dust and moist earth stuck to her jeans and fingers.

Ewww, I hate getting filthy!

The window was tiny and probably just big enough for a small person to fit through. Shade groaned. Just like me. She cringed at the thought of crawling through it. It would be a tight fit, but she thought she could probably make it. She pushed on the pane but nothing happened. It'd been years since anyone had moved this frame, and now it was stuck.

Maybe I should give a good hard push....

Shade scooted onto her bottom and got closer to the window, pressing her feet against it. She gave it a good shove and heard a loud screech as the metal frame screamed in protest, opening to the world. The dust bellowed around her in a swirling cloud, causing her to go into a coughing fit.

She dusted her clothes as she muttered to herself. There was no doubt that she'd need another shower tonight. She peeked inside, but it was a deep void of darkness. Oh boy, this is gonna suck, she thought. Shimmying through the frame, she heaved herself into the darkness below.

Shade crashed onto the floor, tumbling to a stop. Ouch! That's definitely going to leave a bruise, she thought. Shade rubbed the sore spots and scanned the room for signs of movement. There was nothing but dust and darkness to greet her. Standing, she dusted her jeans off again.

There was a dim light coming from the now-busted window, but her eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness of the room. The small room was empty except for a worktable at one end of the basement and the parts to an old bicycle at the other end. There were also a few pieces of junk strewn across the floor. Even in the poor light, she could see there was a staircase in the middle of the room. She walked to it and grabbed the thin metal banister. She started up slowly but froze, hearing a sound that made her stomach tighten.

Footsteps were fluttering above her, but they quickly faded. It seemed like they had stopped to listen for something or someone. Maybe they had heard her. She didn't move for what felt like a millennium, her heart pumping quick and loudly in her ears. She stood still, holding her breath and fearing discovery.

The time ticked on, but Shade didn't hear any more noises and decided to slowly ascend the stairs to the door at the top. Her hand gripped the old brass knob and she paused. As she gulped back her fear, she listened for anything that might be waiting for her beyond the door. Pray, just pray that no one is waiting on the other side.

Shade turned the knob as quietly as she could; the slow creaking moan of the door echoed in the silence. The wind was still howling outside the basement window, shaking it in its frame until the vibration loosened it and it slammed closed. Her stomach tightened at the sudden noise. Claustrophobia must feel like this, she thought.

Shade opened the door and looked around the gloomy building. Light streamed in through the boarded-up windows as she peered into the long hallway that was just beyond the door. The place was vibrating from the forces outside; everything creaked and sighed, like a ship tossed about in an angry sea. Shade wished more than anything to be home, snuggled in her room, safe. She stepped out into the hall and closed the basement door behind her as quietly as she could.

Now what? Which way do I go? She hated having to listen to the voices for an answer. At least she knew if she had to ask them anything, they'd answer her without fail. She just hoped it wasn't an answer she didn't want to hear.

Upstairs, follow the stairs to your right; take them now, the voices commanded in unison.

Shade turned toward her right; the hallway ended by a small banister near the wall. She could see another window frame at the end of it and light spilled through the streaked glass, illuminating the bottom of the staircase. Dust particles swam in the rays and danced all around.

Here we go, thought Shade. Please don't let there be a crazy person up there! She swiftly walked to the stairs and looked up; she heard nothing but the wind making the walls moan. Moving slowly over the loose floorboards, whose creaking was driving her mad with fear, she reached the landing just as she heard a crash. Her eyes widened and she fought the urge to fly right back down the stairs.

Something big is up there! It's moving, too! I don't want to meet that! She couldn't move from her spot and listened again, but nothing else banged around upstairs. Shade craned her neck so she could hear better. It must have stopped. After taking a breath, she continued up the stairs.

"Don't ever ask me to do this again," she muttered under her breath as she reached the landing and peered down to her left. There was another hall, and it opened into a big room that must have been the warehouse's office area. There were cubicles and papers strewn about on the desks, and old chairs were turned over, as if they had been thrown across the room. Um, not pretty. She looked around; whatever had been up here might still be lurking and hiding from her. It wouldn't be too hard with all the furniture upturned and scattered throughout the room.

Shade didn't have to wait too long before she was diving for cover. A bolt of lightning shot across the room, and smashed into one of the bookshelves, which lined the walls. She ducked under a desk, which was still standing upright, and tried to take cover from the flying debris.

What was that? She tried to pace her rapid breathing for she felt like she was having a heart attack. What if she died and no one could ever find her? Her remains would be here in this desolate place for years, if ever discovered.

Shut up, she told herself, shooing the morbid thoughts away. Now, voices, come on, why am I here, to get killed? You better tell me soon, 'cause I am about to hightail it out of here!

Shade peaked above the desk to look around the room. A sonic boom knocked her onto her back, causing more debris to fly past her. The sound had come from a different direction than the lightning. Is there more than one person here? What the hell? She stayed down and prayed they wouldn't notice her in the mess.

"You can't hurt me, Jack. I know all your tricks, and they're pointless against my magic. You can't best me with your powers; mine will always endure against you." The woman cackled with a spine-tingling voice. She sounded like the Wicked Witch of the West.

"Give it up, Evie. You don't have it in you; we're banging our heads against the walls. I can have reinforcements arrive in a heartbeat. Give it up before I'm forced to make you." This was a man's voice, and it echoed with strength in the large room.

Ok, this is getting complicated, thought Shade. I hope they don't know I'm here.

"Not so fast, Jack. And the name is Vange now." She spoke his name as though she was speaking of poison. "You've trespassed on my domain. I didn't know you liked hanging out with ordinary folk now. You might frighten one of them as you speak. You should return to the forest and mountains you claim as your great domain. The cities are mine." Another boom and crash shook the room.

Shade held her breath. Well, now I know she knows I'm here. Now he does, too! Great!

"The mortal is of no concern to me. You should stop right now before I hurt you. The Queen wants you alive, but I'm sure that if you were wounded, she'd understand it was a matter of life and death. Or, you could just give the talisman back and we'll call it even." Jack sent another lightning rod, or what looked like a lightning rod, toward the left corner of the room and jumped from his spot. Shade peered over at him as he ran forward and ducked behind a large wooden beam. He glanced at her for a moment, narrowing his gaze as he watched her. Now he knew just where she was.

What now? Shade turned and looked down the hall to the flight of stairs. If only I can get to the stairs and get the hell out of Dodge. She glanced back at the scene before her. Jack had hunched down behind the desks and stealthily crept toward the woman. He paused periodically to listen and search for her. The woman was hiding quite well behind an office divider, if she was still there.

Don't run, the voices said.

What am I supposed to do, die? Shade's heart raced and sweat beaded on her forehead and neck. She gulped and felt lightheaded as her chest burned from hyperventilation. What could she do? They would see her if she bolted. She hung her head down, wishing to be small and invisible. She heard Jack curse as another crash shattered a window on the north end of the building. Shade jerked her head up in time to see Vange flash a smile at Jack.

"I'm truly sorry, Jack, but this isn't your day. My Queen will love this little artifact. Its powers will truly add to our array of weapons against your precious Queen." The woman then sprinted toward the shattered remains of windowpane and jumped, no, flew out the window and disappeared.

"We will finish this some other time, Vange." Jack stood at the windowsill and stared into the light of the day. The cool autumn breeze wafted in and stirred up the stale air inside. He shook his head while he groaned and cursed under his breath.

Shade stood and peered at Jack; he had yet to turn toward her. She decided to discretely sneak away when he suddenly caught her by the shoulder. She screamed, and quickly spun around and forced to face him. His eyes pierced hers as his hands gripped her upper arms. "Let me go!" She yelled as she wriggled around in his grip.

"Oh, quit it. Who are you? Why are you here?" Jack questioned as he stared at her with searing eyes. He squeezed on her arms just enough to make her cry out.

"I don't know, I don't know! Let me go!"

He sighed and released her as she pulled away, sending her crashing to the floor.

"Ow!" Shade grabbed her elbow, streaked with blood.

"You said 'let me go.'" Jack turned and picked up some of his weapons from the floor. He took hold of the sheath hanging on his belt, putting his knife away before he began dusting off his clothes. He wore a tight black shirt with a leather belt tightened around his waist with multiple items strung onto it, including a sword.

His face was strong and well defined, portraying a radiance of youth. He appeared to be about twenty-five, but didn't have a hint of stubble, making him not quite look like a teenager. Jack's dark, black, wavy hair was long, gracing his neck, and his bangs covered some of his tanned face. His eyes had an ancient wisdom about them, making it obvious that he had seen too much for one lifetime.

He's not bad looking though. Shade stood up and brushed off her clothes as well. She peered up at him, wondering if she should try to run.

"Who are you? Who was--what was--that woman?" Shade's voice shook as she spoke. "And how do you throw lightning like that? How can she fly?" Shade couldn't hold back the torrent of questions.

He stared at her quietly. It seemed as if he were trying to decide whether or not to answer. His piercing grey eyes examined her, making Shade flush as she stuttered. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you're thinking." If he had been a teenager, he would have rolled his eyes, Shade thought. "I'm Jack, by the way. I have the power to throw lightning, because it's part of what I am." He grinned, watching her face drop in disbelief. "She can't really fly, it's more like, float gracefully."

What the...?

"Okay then..." she chuckled nervously, more scared than ever. "How'd she make the room explode in a sonic boom? What do you mean you're made of lightning? That's insane." Shade shook her head, squeezed her eyes closed before blinking nervously. This strange, young man just stared at her, a wry smile upturning the corners of his mouth. He seemed amused by her rant.

"That was Evangeline. Vange is what everyone calls her now, though I used to call her Evie." He paused, looking lost in thought. "But, that was a long time ago. She's an elemental fire witch, but not just any old witch. She's a hybrid offspring of a witch and a faery. She's a skilled fighter, and she has taken something from my Queen. I was sent to get it back." Jack started to walk toward the staircase, leaving Shade stunned with her mouth hanging open in silence.

Okay, that was unexpected. She watched him begin down the stairs. Now what? What was the purpose of her being here? Why did she have to witness all that? Hello, voices?

Why, oh why, do I listen to the stupid voices? Why can't they leave me alone! All they have ever done for me is get me into a lot of trouble.

"Wait! Why I brought here? Stop! Don't walk away from me...I need answers here!" Shade scrambled after the strange man, nearly tripping down the stairs. "The voices told me to come here and I want to know why. What am I supposed to see or do here? Stop already!" She cried out again.

Jack was already at the front door. He studied the nailed-in boards, and began tearing them down. How did he get in? His muscles rippled as he held one plank and pulled. It crashed to the floor as he went for another one. She grabbed his arm to get his attention, but he spun around, grabbed her wrist instead and squeezed it tight. Shade whimpered, surprised by the pain.

"Don't touch me, I might inadvertently electrocute you."

Her eyes widened as she stared at his hand tightening on her wrist. He let her go and sighed, his lips tight with discontent.

"I don't know why you were brought here. You say you hear voices? Only oracles can hear voices. Strange," he said, more to himself than to her. "Anyway, I'm made of lightning and blue fire. I guess I have to show you, because if you happen to touch me when I am not properly shielded with this glamour, I can hurt you, and it could be fatal." Jack stared at her with some concern in his eyes. He stepped back from her and seemed to shake a bit, as though dusting himself off. The air around him liquefied as his glamour melted away and the brightness of his skin illuminated the dark hallway.

Shade gasped. He still looked like Jack, but his skin glowed with a blue aura. Blue fire flickered all over him. Electricity crackled along his entire body, yet he didn't burn. His eyes blinked at her, smiling at her awe.

No way!

"You see, I'm made of electricity, like lightning, and white-hot blue fire. One touch and I can zap you to heaven." He closed his eyes as the air, like liquid, poured over him. His glamour reappeared on him, like a drizzle of honey. Jack opened his eyes and studied the shocked expression on her face.

Shade could hardly stand. She was confused, stunned and in sheer disbelief. "How do you do that? What the... no... can't...how?" She leaned on the wall, her legs felt dangerously limp.

Jack straightened up and narrowed his eyes at her; the air was still shimmering around him. He seemed to pull it in tighter around him, solidifying whatever it was that formed his glamour. The glow was all but gone. His skin lay smooth, tanned and flawless.

Turning, he pulled the rest of the boards off the door and swung it open. It screeched on its hinges, letting the fading light illuminate the doorway. He stepped out onto the steps and turned to look at Shade. "I suggest that you come with me. I don't know why your voices led you here, but the oracle where I live might be able to help you. You would have to follow me right now though. What do you say? Maybe she has the answers you seek." He watched her slowly step outside.

Shade breathed in the cool autumn air and felt more grounded. Gazing up at him, she nodded. This seemed like the only solution to her predicament. Might as well.

Jack began walking and stopped before he reached the sidewalk. He waited for Shade with a look of concern. "You can't tell anyone what you see or where we go. No one. Understand?"

She took in the seriousness of his face. "Of course," she answered hesitantly.

He nodded, made his way onto the sidewalk and then headed off toward the forest.

Chapter Two

THEY WALKED FOR so long, it seemed like an eternity before they reached the edge of the woods, at the city's end. Entering the quiet forest made Shade more aware of how alone she suddenly felt. Should she trust this stranger? Where were they going? She peeked over her shoulder as the city faded behind them, engulfed by the shrubs and trees as they progressed deeper into the woods.

She shivered as the breeze caressed her skin. The forest came alive with animal calls, leaves rustled and branches swayed violently above them. The day was vanishing, the sunset swirled in colors of tangerine orange, pink and a smear of blue.

Shade suddenly felt panicked, realizing she didn't have a flashlight and the night was quickly approaching. "Um, Jack?" Her voice seemed loud in the open air, but he kept going.

"Yes, what's up?" Jack pushed branches aside and avoided tripping on the thick, gnarled roots crawling across the forest floor.

"It'll be dark soon. Are we close yet? I don't have a flashlight, do you? Maybe I should come back during the day tomorrow?" She ducked under a low branch as the forest around them thickened, swallowing them in its embrace.

"We're quite near. Don't worry. The dusk is nothing to fear. Just don't go near any little faeries you might see. They like to enthrall you, suck you into their charms, and they won't release you. They enjoy torturing mortals."

Her eyes widened as she dug her heels into the dirt. "What? Did you say 'faeries'? Are you kidding me? You don't really believe in them, do you? They aren't really real...." Shade's voice trailed off as she examined her surroundings more closely.

What the heck is he talking about?

He chuckled. "I'm not joking; they really do exist. What do you think I am? The fey--faeries--like me come in many sizes. We exist in this world parallel to yours, hidden in plain sight. We're magical beings, but most are bound to stay within the boundaries of the land of Faerie." He offered, but found her face still full of confusion. "Don't worry, I won't trick you or charm you like the tiny demi-fey do. The farther you go into these woods, the more and more you'll see." Jack grunted as he pulled away some overgrown branches that stood in their way.

"It's a whole new world out here, with things you could never imagine. This is our territory, away from the iron cities." He continued to wrestle with an unrelenting vine, turning red and impatient with the vegetation. Was it fighting with him? Shade thought it odd that it appeared almost alive, trying to ensnarl him. "Faeries can't stand iron, you know; it's our kryptonite." He pulled his sword by the hilt tied to his back and began hacking at the thick vegetation that surrounded them.

Shade crept forward, more wary and spooked than before. Faeries aren't that bad. I guess things could be worse. Could be tigers and lions and bears, oh my! She hurried to keep up with Jack, pulling her sweater tighter around herself. The sun had gone down, and the heat had receded with it. "Jack?"

"Yes?" A slight impatience now tainted his voice.

"It sounds like Vange knows you... intimately. Do you know her well?" Shade fumbled over a root sticking up from the dirt.

Jack pressed his lips together as his pace hesitated for a moment. He furrowed his brow as she waited.

"I did know her. Intimately, I mean. That's all changed now. We were, well, lovers. Engaged once." He swung his sword harder, making the branches fly easily out of their way. "I loved her very much. Then the Unseelie Court started raging war against the Seelie Courts of Faeries, especially the one I reside at. She changed then, switched sides, started using dark magic. I'm not sure what made her choose to change, but she up and left one day and never returned. She became one of the evil Queen Aveta's top lieutenants.

"She's been stealing magical artifacts from our clan. They're probably trying to beef up their armory of weapons and magic against us." Jack stopped, breathing in slowly as the memories washed over him, morphing his face into a still mask.

"So you were in love, and she just left? Just like that?"

"Yes. It was a long time ago, and I'd rather not talk about it anymore."

Shade frowned, scanning the darkening woods. Jack seemed nice enough, and she didn't want to get on his last nerve, especially not when the woods appeared to be dangerously alive.

Jack came to a sudden stop in front of an enormous oak tree. It looked ancient, like it had lived longer than anything else in the world. He kneeled down, putting away his sword and pulling out a flask, taking a swig.

While Shade looked around and up into the tree, something swatted her calf and she jumped. She scrambled around to get a better look at the forest floor. Fluttering near her, was what appeared to be a small fly. Its wings batted like a hummingbird's, and a snarled smile emerged from its lips.

Lips? Flies don't have lips.

She narrowed her eyes at the creature; it had a soft golden glow to its skin and looked like a tiny elf with white cottony hair and long pointy fingers. It also had a malicious smile painted across its face. "Um, hi, how are you? I'm...." Shade didn't get a chance to finish her words before the wind flew out of her as her arm was jerked back.

"Stop!" Jack snapped, still holding onto her wrist. "Don't speak to them! The demi-fey aren't very merciful or nice. They like to play games and mind tricks which can kill you. There's almost no way to snap out of their enchantments; they can make you dance until your feet are bloody stumps! Weren't you listening? And, never eat or take anything they give you, you understand? You will belong to them forever!" Jack let go of her arm and angrily turned back to the tree. Shade rubbed her arm, pushing her steamy anger away.

"Endora, philis montie!" He touched one of the tree knots, causing the earth to quiver and move near the roots. They vibrated alive, snaked and moved as they parted, like tentacles. An opening with stone steps revealed itself at the base of the tree. Eventually, the rumbling ceased and the ground remained open.

Shade had to close her mouth, which was hanging open like a flycatcher. She'd never seen anything like this in her life.

"Follow me and stay close. Humans are not usually welcomed here." Jack stepped down into the darkness, holding onto the small roots sticking out of the crumbly walls, like parts of a banister. Shade followed reluctantly, but silently wished she had never gotten out of bed that morning. As she descended deeper into the void, the grass and trees disappeared from sight.

When they had almost reached the bottom of the staircase, a loud rumble shook the ground, sending dirt trickling down. Her arms instinctively flew up over her head, waiting for a cave-in that never did come. She looked up when the noise died away. The hole in the forest floor had closed above them.

Shade now stood in what appeared to be a hallway made of dirt with smooth stones all around them. Roots dangled from above, and the only light came from lamps hanging on the walls. One by one, each magically flared up. The lamps gave off an eerie flickering glow of dim light.

Jack dusted his shoulders and shook off the dirt. He started walking down the hall. Shade had no choice but to follow while attempting to breathe in and out slowly and deeply, easing her anxiety. The floor was flagstone, nestled into the moist, soft dirt. It was cool in the dark tunnel, but it wasn't uncomfortable; there was no trace of wind to chill her.

There were many tunnels branching off from the main one. Shade stayed close to Jack, afraid to lose him in the dizzying maze. Dangling roots gripped her hair, like fingers catching her long strands and pulling hard as if they were alive. She used one hand to cover her head to keep it from catching the snarled roots. Her other hand was stretched out to help her balance against the cool, smooth dirt walls. She hoped they would soon get to wherever it was they were going.

There was a soft glowing light up ahead, growing brighter as they inched closer to it. She could hear voices echoing in waves down the hall. The hall abruptly ended and opened into a large, round room. Shade began to realize that the voices were coming from the many bodies fluttering around in the room. Most looked human from what she saw, but others were unlike anything she'd ever seen. Their faces glared at her, an intruder from the world above; somehow, she had a feeling that they didn't see too many strangers down there.

Shade felt naked under the scrutiny of the dozens of eyes that were scanning her as though she were a freak. She stumbled behind Jack, who seemed oblivious to the commotion around them. He finally stopped when a large troll stepped in front of them, blocking the path.

"Out of the way, Renny, I must see Ilarial immediately," Jack yelled up to the gruesome beast. "I have some strange news about Vange for her, and I brought someone who needs to see her." The troll narrowed his eyes and cast his glowing, yellow eyes over Shade. She felt herself shrinking under his glare; he was monstrous, and one of the scariest things she'd ever seen.

"Can't do that Jack. No strangers allowed without prior approval; you know that. We have to be sure she isn't a spy; the forest is crawling with them. They could only be so lucky to have you waltz one right into the center of our residence. I have to tie her up now." The troll pushed past Jack and reached for her. His large hands were hideous and reminded her of moldy green cheese. They looked burly, and if he got a hold of her, she didn't know how she would break free, even if she tried.

"Jack?" She stepped back as he came closer. "I'm not a spy! Don't touch me! Jack?" She peered around for him as the troll's fingers grabbed her arm and squeezed, digging hard into her flesh. The next second, the troll was on the floor staring at the ceiling, blinking in disbelief. Jack had his sword at the troll's throat and his foot pressed down onto his massive chest.

"I told you, Renny, we must see the oracle Ilarial. I vouch for this girl. She's no spy. Now stay out of my way, or the next time this blade will slice your throat all the way through."

Jack pushed off and looked at Shade. She trembled as she let out the breath that had caught in her chest. He motioned for her to follow him and sheathed his sword. She nodded and stepped past the troll, who glared at her with his burning yellow eyes. Turning away, she scurried behind Jack as he continued walking down another corridor off the main room. She didn't let her gaze deviate from the room until it was out of sight. Shivering, she hugged her arms around herself even though the room wasn't cold. She was afraid, more than she was willing to admit.

"I apologize for the security around here; we've had a lot of break-ins, and Queen Zinara is not pleased. You must understand if I suspected you were a spy, you wouldn't be standing here with me at all."

Shade nodded, feeling most unwelcomed.

"Ah, here we are!" Jack stopped at the end of the hall and tapped on a wooden door. It had deep woodland carvings that curved and twisted throughout the ancient wood, smoothed over by time and use.

"Come," a female voice commanded. Shade hoped she'd be friendlier than the bunch they'd already encountered.

Jack heaved the door open and let Shade go in first, closing it softly behind them. She studied the room; it glittered in the dim candlelight shining from the center of a round wooden table near the floor. There were also several large pillows tossed about the room for seating.

From behind the table, a platinum-haired woman stared at her. She smiled and lifted her arms, motioning for them to sit. Her gown flowed around her like liquid ice, white and sheer. Her hair glistened in the light, and her eyes were like grey shining pearls. The oracle's eyes brought out the smoothness of her face. Her dark pink lips smiled, and nothing about her seemed old. She looked like an angel without wings, ethereal. Shade tried not to stare, hoping she hadn't been rude. She settled onto a large blue pillow.

Shade let her eyes wander the small space, noticing several objects on the table before them. There were stones of different colors and markings scattered on the wood. Placed among the stones were some small, bleached animal bones.

"Please, take my hand." Reaching out from her long, white robe, Ilarial brought her slender pale hand toward Shade. Shade took the hand, finding it soft and surprisingly warm.

"Um, hello, I'm Shade, Jack brought me here because I...."

"I know who you are and why you're here, Shade," Ilarial interrupted. "I've been waiting for you a long time. I was hoping that you might run into someone like Jack a little sooner, but this will do. I'm Ilarial, Lady Oracle of the faery tribe of Guildrin." Her smile made Shade feel warm and suddenly very calm. The woman was full of magic, and it radiated toward her like a warm fire on an icy night.

"I know you're confused, but I've known of your existence for some time. You say you can hear what you call 'voices' in your head from time to time?" the Oracle asked kindly.

Shade nodded. She was in awe of Ilarial but couldn't shake the strangeness of the room's atmosphere. Was she under a spell? Being in Ilarial's presence was like being drugged or sedated; it filled her with a sweet and fuzzy feeling.

Ilarial smiled deeply and crow's feet appeared around her eyes, revealing wisdom and age. Even so, Shade found it impossible to tell just how old she was. Her long hair draped around her shoulders and down her back like a thick, rippled curtain, shining in the dim candlelight.

"The voices in your head are spirit guides. They're your ancestors trying to help you on your way. It's difficult to tune into them because you're not trained, but they mean only to help you. You must not fear them, but let them fill you with their power and knowledge. After all, they've led you to find us. You must know now that you're not all human. You're one of us; part faery and part human. This is why you can sense magic around you, and it has called you here."

Shade concentrated on Ilarial's words, unconvinced. What the heck? Impossible. Shade shook her head. "No. My parents aren't faeries. My mother is not magical. She's a modern soccer mom with four kids to feed, and a single mom at that! My father's dead. He died two years ago, and there's no way he was a faery!"

Shade was growing agitated. Her father a faery? No, it couldn't be; he'd been so normal. She could still remember his calm voice reading to her at night before bed and the wrinkles that hugged his eyes when he smiled. Faeries aren't parents; they don't die in car accidents like her father had. None of this made any sense.

"I know this may sound impossible," Ilarial offered softly. "I knew that it would be difficult for you to accept. You're the oldest in your family, right?" Shade nodded. "Your mother loved a faery once; he charmed her into loving him instantly. She had no choice, really, but that's how she became pregnant with you. Of course, this faery placed a spell on the man that you call father almost as soon as he knew there would be a child. He wanted to make sure you'd be taken care of, provided for." She paused, letting the information sink in.

"Your adoptive father fell in love with your mother, married her right away and then you were born. Both were none the wiser." Ilarial stopped, watching Shade's reaction.

"My dad was not my real father?" Shade's voice quivered at the thought. "How would you even know that? Who was this 'faery' then? Did he tell you himself? What if you're lying?" Shade suddenly stood up and looked down at Ilarial, her heart beating hard within her chest. Her breath caught in her throat, causing it to feel tight.

Jack was suddenly standing behind her, took hold of her shoulders and pressed down softly. "Shade, please, sit down. You must listen to her. She knows more than you think."

Shade took a breath, eyeing Ilarial with suspicion. Sighing, she decided she didn't have much of a choice. She sank down into the sea of pillows once more, shaking and unsure.

Ilarial was still. She wasn't angry as Shade expected, but smiling. The same warm feeling flooded over Shade once more, calming her.

"You must know, faeries can't lie, unless of course they're not full faery, like yourself. We can enchant, stretch the truth or work a way around it but never a straight out lie. I do hope you believe me. I mean you no harm, child. I only wish to find truth for you." Ilarial nodded and looked down onto the table before them. She picked up the stones and warmed them in her hands. She then dropped them on the table and watched them roll to their places.

"These stones are quite powerful; they're mined from the heart of the earth, deep within crevices never seen by man. They're called seeing stones, and the runes on them foretell futures or sing of the past. For you, I see a great journey you must undertake, a misshapen love with a broken heart, confusion...." She pointed to each stone, first a blue stone, then a pink-red one, and then blackened quartz. The last three were turquoise, purple, and yellow, and they were wedged in a group together. She paused before them, turning her head slightly, as if waiting for them to speak. "Ah, yes, a most special task has fallen to you where your true self shall be revealed."

Shade stared at Ilarial. Nothing made sense to her--absolutely nothing. The stones glistened and vibrated on the table, almost glowing. Shade felt power radiating from them like a nauseating heat making her slightly dizzy. "What does that all mean?"

"It means that you've come here in a time of war within our kind. Our Queen wants a force assembled to retrieve the Santiran Water magic. This power comes from a pool of water, where all elements and creatures are derived. It holds life and death, and summons the powers of the earth. It helps keep the balance between good and evil in our land, and evil will wither against it.

"It is said only the one that belongs to both man and faery can hold this liquid and return it to the great city of Aturine here in Guildrin, where the Queen resides. Only then will we be safe from the Unseelie attacks." She paused, studying Shade's face. "The stones tell me that someone must be you, Shade."

Shade tried to close her mouth, as if the words would taste bad if they reached her lips. Why was she so special? She was just a senior in high school, and she wasn't even sure if she was going to college. Most days, she couldn't even decide what to eat for lunch. "No way. Sorry, but, you've got the wrong girl. This is nuts. I need to go. It's getting late." She chuckled nervously, shaking her head. She turned to look at Jack as she stood up. A frown played about the corners of his mouth.

"Has the Queen called assembly yet?" he asked Ilarial.

"She's doing so as we speak. I let her know that Shade would be here today. We must go now and listen. Such a historic event is not to be missed. Shade, we must take you there now," the Oracle beckoned.

Shade was sure she should've never gotten out of bed that morning.

Chapter Three

ILARIAL'S MOVEMENTS WERE light and airy, almost as though she were floating. She waved at Shade to follow as Jack opened the wooden door to the hallway. Shade was in too much shock to object; she followed them both down the tunnels, returning to the main room, where Renny had attempted to arrest her. She stood wide-eyed at the scene; it had swelled up with more people, or faeries or whatever the heck everyone was down there.

Ilarial pushed through the crowd, or rather it seemed to part just for her, until they reached a large platform. Here stood several guards and another woman in a great, long, red velvet gown. A tall crystal tiara flashing with diamonds and blood-red rubies rose from her long black hair. She watched them as they approached the raised platform, passing her eyes from Ilarial to Shade. Gleaming green irises bore into Shade like fire burning in pale skin. This woman wasn't to be trifled with. The air of command and power swirled around her like a cloud. Shade suddenly felt quite tiny.

"Most Seelie queens have light, fair hair," Ilarial whispered to her. "But Zinara was born with the dark hair of an Unseelie queen and the legendary Ancients. Nonetheless, she won the Seelie crown and paid for it dearly, with flesh and blood. She deserves loyalty, more than any queen ever has." Shade listened to Ilarial's short history lesson as she watched the room turn to give the Queen its full attention.

Ilarial bowed to the queen deeply and kissed her hand. "Your majesty. I present to you Shade, a halfling who has joined us today. I have read the stones, and she's the one I've been telling you about. She has finally returned to us and is the one I've foreseen for this journey. The magic of Faerie has finally brought her back to us."

The Queen listened intently, letting her eyes drift over her. Shade felt sick and homesick already. The pressure of all the things they told her bore down like a suffocating pressure that swallowed her up. She was sinking into the depths of a deep dark well, without any hope to escape. She studied the crowd and desperately wanted to fade into it, to run down the tunnels and out of the forest as fast as she could.

"A pleasure to finally meet you, Shade," Queen Zinara said as she fixed her gaze on her and offered out her hand.

Unsure of what to do, she copied Ilarial's gestures and kissed the Queen's hand. She noted Ilarial's approval and returned her eyes to the stunning Queen as she let go. The Queen turned back to the crowd and the room fell silent.

"I find it difficult to address you today. The evil that surrounds us has threatened our peaceful lives many times as of late. My heart breaks with the death that seeps into our precious earth. I've been forced to ask of you the most dangerous of requests." The Queen's pensive pause made a ripple of curious whispers ignite. "We must obtain the magic of the Santiran Fountains once more. Our ancestors used this when the earth was once out of balance and evil lurked around every corner. We've attempted to fight the Unseelie court, but have failed to hold them back, with terrible losses. I fear our only chance against their vast army, is this magic, and we must undertake a perilous journey to obtain it."

She paused, sighing and seemingly upset by what she was saying. "Unfortunately, I cannot go myself because being near the fountain would prove fatal for me. The magic of the Santiran Fountains can only be bequeathed unto a halfling, one of both worlds, human and faery. To my great joy, we have finally found her, on this night of all nights. I'm most pleased to introduce Shade." Her hand outstretched toward Shade and the crowd cheered thunderously.

Shade was sweating with anxiety. How much longer could she stand here? She felt lightheaded, and the room was growing dim.

"She will take this journey, for it's her destiny. She needs an entourage to escort her and help get her there safely. I must ask for volunteers for this most dangerous task. Can anyone selflessly swear loyalty and guide Shade, our only hope?"

Silence engulfed the room. After a moment, soft whispers echoed throughout the great chamber as everyone shuffled and shifted about. The excitement was electric, and it reminded her of Jack's unglamoured figure, crackling and static.

Speaking of Jack, where did he go? Shade thought.

Shade caught sight of him as he stepped before the Queen. "I'll go. I found her, and she's my responsibility." Jack bowed to the Queen and then stepped back. Zinara nodded and smiled at him, approval evident in her eyes.

Others stepped out from the crowd, one after the other. The fey each introduced themselves as they bowed before the Queen and she quickly approved of all of the volunteers.

"Now, only magic can fight magic. I also need one brave volunteer who is proficient in sorcery to join the others. Is there anyone of such skill that would accept such a feat?" The room was once again quiet. Shade was definitely feeling lightheaded now. Her stomach lurched, and soon the room began to spin. Ilarial stepped over to her and placed her hand on Shade's arm. Ilarial seemed to sense that Shade needed some aide and steadied her with one hand; her other hand retrieved a small stone from her gown.

"Shade, suck on this stone. It'll make you feel better." She reached over and placed it into Shade's mouth. Shade did as told and let the flavor coat her tongue. It tasted sweet, like honey. The spinning ceased and her stomach calmed instantly.

Wow.

"I, Braelynn, will take this task at hand," a young woman's voice echoed across the crowd. She stepped forward, causing the throng of people around her to part. She wore a light brown dress, and honey-colored hair draped about her shoulders. Her bright hazel eyes glowed with fire and ice, and freckles splashed across her nose and cheeks. Her eyes glowed with a fire and appeared as hard as stones.

"Dear Braelynn, yes, I would be honored if you would accompany Shade on this quest. I've heard how quickly you've moved from apprentice to great sorceress. I'm pleased that you have passed your trials with exceptional grace." Zinara nodded in approval and turned to face Ilarial and Shade. "Dearest Shade, I am indebted to you now. Please, get some rest and some food. You will need it, as tomorrow the quest begins." Without any further instructions for Shade, she bowed and turned to leave the great room, moving to the right as she walked down the corridor.

Now what? Shade felt panic rise in her throat. How could she get out of this? What would her mother say? Mom! She must be so worried. Shade turned and searched for Ilarial and Jack, who were both softly discussing something. It all felt so surreal.

Ilarial motioned for Shade to follow as they left the platform. "I know this is very overwhelming for you. I can't make you feel more at ease, but I do hope that I can answer any questions you have. First, of course, we must eat; it's late, and the journey will be long and tedious. We should join your entourage and get to know them. They will be vital to your safety."

"My safety?" Shade widened her eyes but followed along.

Ilarial ushered Shade down another corridor that opened onto yet another large area, where many people were already sitting at wooden tables. They were eating a variety of vegetables, fruits, breads and meats. Shade's stomach grumbled with desire. She'd already forgotten how sick she had felt not a moment ago. All she could think about was food.

She followed Ilarial to one of the great banquet tables. It looked extravagant and overfilled. Ilarial pulled a plate from a stack and handed it to Shade. Her new entourage of friends were following close behind, piling berries, meats and vegetables high on their plates.

When Shade was done filling her plate to the brim and accepting a drink from a friendly lady who was handing out stone cups of fruit juice, she followed the group to an area far to the left of the banquet hall. They all sat down and began gorging themselves as though they hadn't eaten in ages. Shade joined in and inhaled most her food as she glanced at everyone, evaluating them with an inquisitive eye and noting how different they all were.

She had already forgotten most of their names it had been too stressful to concentrate during the assembly and being hungry had not helped. She listened to all of them chatting. Murmurs of conversations and laughs rang through her ears and filled the great hall.

One of the warriors caught her eye. Long, honey-brown hair lay across his eyes before he swept the strands from his face, catching her staring. He smiled deeply and started laughing at whatever joke Jack had been telling him. Lean muscles rippled under his snug shirt and form-fitting armor made of flexible leather. A sword lay strapped to his back, reflecting the torchlight of the room. He seemed younger than Jack did, but older than Shade. She watched him talk while he chewed his food, which seemed to add to his charm. He had stopped chewing once he had noticed her watching him, and she flicked her gaze away, back toward her plate. Her cheeks flushed, and she swiftly lowered her head to take another bite of food. Chancing another look, she caught him winking at her.

"Ilarial?" Shade spoke softly to the Oracle beside her, avoiding the man's stare.

"Yes, Shade?"

"I was just wondering. Does everyone here have secret powers like Jack? He showed me what he looks like under the glamour. I was wondering if everyone here wears glamour too." Shade glanced at the group once more as she spoke. They were still engaged in their conversations.

Ilarial paused thoughtfully and glanced at the crew. She seemed to hesitate but not for long. Her small mouth slowly chewed her last bite of food and she fixed her gleaming grey eyes upon Shade. A warm smile slowly spread across her face, and she now appeared less hesitant.

"Shade, I'm surprised that Jack has already let you know what he is. He's usually wary of strangers. Some refuse to use any kind glamour and do not venture into the human world, such as Renny. I believe you've met him; he's one of the guards of this underground city. He never leaves; he thinks humans are inferior and powerless.

"But, you've also seen Jack and how he mixes among mortals easily when he's glamoured. He's so easy to get along with too. You'll often find him on errands in the human world, since he can remain within the iron of the cities for much longer periods of time. We do try to keep any incidents to a minimum; Jack has a stellar track record. I, on the other hand, don't get out much, and I'm most sensitive to iron sickness if I tread through the cities for too long. Though, that's quite common in faeries." She then turned her eyes toward everyone else at the table. Some were partially listening, and some had yet to notice their conversation.

"You need to understand what and who everyone is, Shade. These are your guardians, and you must have complete trust in them, even if that means their identities must be revealed to you. Let's see," Ilarial waved her hand toward Braelynn, seated on the other side of her. "You already know that Braelynn is a great sorceress. She needs no glamour because all witches and warlocks look quite human. Then, there's Than. He glamours his pointy nose and pointy ears to blend with humans of the Orient. He's a skilled hunter and warrior, excellent with knives, and has lived here in Aturine all his life."

As she said this, Than gave them a curt nod, melting his glamour away with a quiver. Shade held in her breath in surprise, and stared at a more beautiful version of Than. He now had pointy ears, larger eyes, and a thinner nose. He looked the same, but all his features were more exaggerated.

The oracle continued in one fluent breath. "Sary is a warrior princess," the fiery redhead waved at them with a sweet smile, "and she's human but immortal. She's also set to be queen of the immortal Vyn people of the south when her mother passes the crown to her. It's a lesser kingdom, but powerful. They're very strong, and most are rather efficient archers, though Sary prefers to work in the medical arts." The princess nodded toward Shade and then continued to eat.

"Stephen is a full faery." A tattooed man grinned at her, his smile reached up to his eyes, which twinkled in the torchlight. "He glamours himself to look less startling; his marks and vibrant skin would be unnatural to humans. He's an expert at tracking and can find almost anything and anyone, anywhere." She smiled at Stephen, who also bowed his head while melting his glamour away.

This Stephen was stunning; he would definitely stand out in a crowd. He kept his brown hair shoulder length, but his strong beautiful eyes glowed grayish white, and sharp, swirling Celtic tattoos framed one side of his face in brilliant blue, quivering under his skin. He had a scar, probably earned in battle, which ran down the other side of his neck. It reminded her that she hoped she wouldn't have to engage in any type of fighting on the upcoming journey.

"And then, there's Rylan. He's quite extraordinary," Ilarial continued. "He's part Teleen, like Jack, but he has a skill for shape-shifting since he's part changeling too, and can become anyone you can think of. There are not too many of his kind left. We don't know what else his heritage holds; he came to us as a young child, lost in the forest. But he's loyal and handy in a pinch."

"Who's Rylan, Ilarial? I don't remember him being introduced." Shade's eyes landed on the handsome man sitting next to Jack, whom she'd stared at earlier and who was now studying her right back intensely. She couldn't recall his name. His brilliant green eyes flashed to a honey-brown color as they gleamed at her. This man had winked at her across the table earlier. Meeting his eyes again, Shade felt her cheeks flush once more.

"People call me Soap, M'lady," he said. "But, my real name is Rylan. Nasty little nickname I caught when they first found me, dirty and lost." His chuckle sent a shiver through her, like someone tickling her with a feather. She let her eyes wander back to him as he continued. "Not a flattering story." His face grew serious. "But, I'm thankful for Ilarial and my Queen's most gracious hospitality ever since. It would be an honor to defend you on this quest, Shade."

He bowed his head as her name rolled off his tongue, making her heart flip. His presence was intoxicating. He didn't seem to drop any glamour at all. She ripped her gaze away from his, certain her face was an unfavorable shade of scarlet red. Traitor blushing cheeks! Shade kept wondering if he had any glamour on, but it didn't seem like it.

"And, last but not least, Ewan," Ilarial said, waving her hand at the husky quiet man who sat at the other end of the table. He happened to be sitting next to Sary. Ewan was a large man with big hands and burly hair all over. His squared jaw was busy chomping hard on each bite of food. His thick, black, hair was slicked back and played just past his shoulders. He was gigantic and didn't seem like someone you would want to fight with in a bar. "He's part giant, part human and very strong. He'd be the one you would want next to you in a fight, and he's been almost everywhere. Ewan will be your guide to the land of the Santirans. I believe he's the only one who has even been there."

The husky man gave a slight nod to Shade and continued shoveling food into his mouth. He had polished off two plates already. He wasn't bad looking, Shade thought, just rough around the edges and enormous.

Shade sipped her juice, realizing how exhausted she was. She wished to see her family. What would they be doing? And Brisa−what would she think when Shade didn't show up at school in the morning? She slipped her cell phone out of her pocket and looked at the time. It was eleven pm, and she had ten missed calls from her mother and three from Brisa. She began dialing her mother's cell when Ilarial placed her hand on the phone and shook her head.

"No calls will work from here, Shade. We're too far underground. I know you fear for your mother, but I'll take care of it. She will be okay, and I can weave a spell to help her believe you will not be gone long. I can make her believe you have been at a friend's house, perhaps? And the rest of your family too. They won't notice you're gone; there will be no pain for them, I promise. Time works differently here in the faerie lands than it does in the mundane human world. You will not be missed; I say that in a good way, though."

Shade swallowed hard with a nod. She obviously had to trust these people and saw no other way but to do what they asked of her. "Ilarial, about the voices in my head... what do I do with them? Can you make them go away or learn to control them? I feel like banging my head against the wall sometimes when they won't stop. They make me go where they want, and if I don't listen to them, they become intolerable. They're the ones who led me to Jack and then to you and this strange world. I can't live like that." Tears pricked at her eyes as she swallowed the growing lump in her throat. "It's distracting. I feel like a slave to it and I'm powerless to ignore them. What if they drive me insane?"

Ilarial nodded, thinking hard about Shade's words. She seemed to come to a decision and smiled back at her. "Follow me; you will sleep in my quarters tonight. I will give you a potion that will help you control the voices. It will aide in blocking them out when you want to; it will also help you listen to them when you're ready. Having more control over the voices will help you develop your own powers. You'll be able to decide your own fate while you're still so young and untrained. If you practice, in time you can learn to use them for your own benefits. This is a difficult task, but I will help you. Will you agree to this?" Shade nodded and felt a weight lift off her shoulders. Finally, someone could help her after all these years. She just prayed that it would work.

Ilarial guided her back through the branches of tunnels that led to her own chambers. She made up a bed in the second room and then motioned for Shade enter. She handed her a bottle filled with a silvery liquid.

"Take this, Shade; it will last until you return here, probably a couple weeks. It will help you remain calm, too. Don't worry, I'm not drugging you. It's just a pleasant side effect of the potion, and it will quiet the voices in your head," she reassured her. "I'll be in the other room if you need anything at all."

She gave a warm smile, and Shade felt the familiar calm flood her insides. She nodded and poured the liquid down her throat. It was sweet but left a metallic aftertaste. Licking her lips, her eyes followed Ilarial as she exited the room. Shade pulled the thick soft blankets over her body and squeezed her pillow under her head. Closing her eyes, she drifted off to sleep in the soothing silence.

Chapter Four

SHADE STIRRED AWAKE while it was still dark. The door was open, and there was only a sliver of light shining around the corner from the adjacent room. A queasy feeling overwhelmed her and for a moment, it felt like she had temporary amnesia. Sitting up, she dangled her legs over the side of the bed. She was beginning to wake up a bit more and remembering why she wasn't home. As she looked around at her surroundings, the events of the previous day rushed back to her.

Her cell phone was still working, and she grabbed it from atop her backpack on the floor beside the bed. Flipping it open, the bright screen hurt her eyes, and she squinted at the little digital clock. 5:15am. No wonder she felt tired. She was not used to waking up so early and had always been a late bird, rarely making it to school with more than a minute to spare.

Shade slipped to the edge of the bed until both her feet touched the cool stone floor. Bending down, she felt around in the dark for her socks and shoes. She wondered what she'd take for clothes on this journey. I couldn't very well ask to stop by home to pick up some stuff. Well, maybe. Maybe her mother would be gone most of the day. Shade would have to ask Ilarial if it was possible, or she'd be faced with an endless stench from not changing her clothes.

She slipped on her shoes and stood up, shaking her head and stretching her sore limbs. Nope, definitely must get some stuff from home. She walked into the main room of Ilarial's chamber, where she'd first met the great oracle.

She was unsure of the coming events of the day, but she had her backpack and she decided to examine her "supplies." I doubt there's anything useful in here for a perilous journey. Shade sighed. She unzipped the bag and observed the contents: her schoolbooks, along with some snacks, an mp3 player, as well as a dozen pens, pencils, erasers, a stapler and a tube of lip balm. Other than her books and snacks, there was her notebook full of poems and stories she wrote when bored.

Emergency preparedness at its best.

Shade shook her head disapprovingly. She had to stop by her house, dump her textbooks and fill her bag with badly needed essentials. Running her hand through her matted hair, it caught in the frizzy knots from sleeping on it. She groaned, it was a frazzled mess. Hearing a swish behind her, she whirled around to see Ilarial standing at the doorway of the suite.

"I tried to be quiet; I did not want to scare you. Here, take these clothes. I know you need things from your house. I have already cast a spell on your mother. She will leave at seven am to run errands and shop with your siblings. She's just fine and very happy; I will make sure of it." She handed Shade a pile of light but luxuriously soft tunics and trousers; the material was smooth and felt like pajamas. Ilarial handed her a belt and leather strings to tie the tunics with. She also furnished some hard-soled leather shoes; these were also soft but surprisingly sturdy.

"Soap can take you to your house. He's on his way. Do come back by ten am, as that is when they will be about ready to leave. Can I see your backpack?" She held her hand out for the pack. "I can help lighten the load with a shrinking spell; anything you place in your bag will shrink hundreds of times its normal size and return to normal when you take it back out. Whatever you want, just summon it, and it will come straight to you. You can bring anything you wish." Shade nodded in awe as she handed the pack to Ilarial. Ilarial whispered the spell softly and ran her hand over the pack, closing her eyes. When she was through, she returned it to Shade.

"There, see? It's as light as a feather."

Shade held the pack, and it felt very light, as though it was empty. She opened it and reached inside for one of her textbooks, and it appeared in her hand immediately, though she couldn't see anything inside the now darkened interior. "Wow! That's amazing! I can stick whatever I want in it now, right? Does it have a weight limit? That's just way cool!" Shade felt her excitement fluttering through her now, and her fatigue evaporated.

Ilarial laughed, "Yes, dear Shade, anything you can think of. A most useful spell, don't you think? You could move your whole house in one trip."

Ilarial smiled warmly. It was that same smile that felt like cozy hot chocolate melting the cold of winter away. She motioned for Shade to follow her into another bedroom. This one belonged to Ilarial and was centered in the middle of the house. It was layered with thick, clean but colorful blankets, and there were also a number of pillows. On the far side of the room was a rack filled with weapons. Silvery knives, sharp stone arrows, and wooden-tipped ones filled the corner. There were also hatchets, axes, throwing stars and daggers overflowing the rack.

"Please, choose some weapons. I find that if a weapon calls to you, it's meant to be yours alone. Feel them sing to you, Shade. Touch the metal and the wood, and tell me what you feel. Please, take the ones that you like." She motioned to the weapons as Shade gaped at them from the doorway. As Shade stepped closer and reached out to touch them, her fingers landed on an ornamental dagger. There were gems on the hilt and they were glistening in the candlelight along with the blade of the dagger. The blue and blood-red jewels brightened as Shade's fingers brushed the handle.

Shade stepped back with excitement in her eyes. "Wow, they feel like they're buzzing under my skin! Is it magic?" She reached out and touched some of the throwing stars, which hummed equally as loud as the dagger. They were glowing with an eerie blue and green hue around the steel. She could feel the power radiating through the dagger as it made her heart race and her fingers tingle.

"Go ahead, Shade, take some and place them in your pack. You may need them sooner than you think. Your aim will be true; your strength will increase a hundredfold with them. Just use them wisely and never in haste."

Shade frowned at the ominous statement; she didn't want to need to use any kind of weapons. Who would? Even so, she placed several stars, daggers and a sword in her pack. All were small enough for her thin hands but big enough to do some kind of damage, if only she knew how to use them. She looked at Ilarial, pausing with slight fear rising to her throat.

"What if I don't come back? What exactly are we going to go through that I'd need such an entourage and magical weapons? It's freaking me out a bit. I'm just a regular girl; I'm really not the outdoorsy type. I don't see why it has to be me." Shade felt a tightening in her throat as panic set in, and it became hard to breathe. Pressing her lips tight into a flat line, she took a moment to gather her thoughts before she frowned and continued. "You need a half blood, I know. But why me? I can't be the only one on earth. Please don't be offended, but I really don't want to go!" Tears welled in her eyes, and she did her best to keep them from spilling onto her cheeks.

"Shade, I am truly sorry that you feel this way. I know it's very overwhelming and confusing. I have foreseen that you, and only you, can do this and come back alive. I have not told you this, but there have been others brought to me before, and they were not suited for this, even though they tried." She paused, sighing deeply and stroking Shade's hair. "Don't underestimate yourself. You are strong and carry powers you have barely begun to explore. The warriors will help you and teach you how to use your magic and strength. Let them in. Heed what they say and show you. You are in the best hands now. I know you will come to know that this is not a curse but a blessing."

Someone cleared their throat, and both Shade and Ilarial turned around. Rylan bowed his head as he entered, ready to take Shade into the unknown. "Soap at your service, Shade. Hello, Ilarial. It's time to for us to leave." He straightened and waited quietly.

Shade swallowed her tears and sighed. There was no turning back now. She gave him a weak grin and swung her pack over her shoulder. Running her fingers through her rat's nest of hair, she suddenly wished that she had brought her brush with her, especially with Soap's twinkling gaze lingering. She straightened up and followed Soap out the door as Ilarial waved a farewell.

The walk down the corridor seemed endless. Neither of them spoke, but they moved briskly on the stone floors. They soon passed the great hall, now abandoned and silent. Soap was in the lead as they continued on to the roots of the tree where the entrance lay. Soap paused and called out the same words Jack had spoken to open the stairway. "Endora, philis montie!"

The roots shook and dirt sprayed down onto them, making Shade swat to keep it off her clothes. The great stone staircase emerged from the dirt walls and came together in a massive spiral. Light streamed in through the opening, and the stone steps sparkled in the sunlight.

"Wow!" Shade stepped forward in awe. It was unlike anything she'd ever seen before, brilliant and beautiful.

Soap grinned at her comment. "It is said the steps were made out of crushed diamonds and stone more than a millennium ago. Nothing else can compare to such an amazing entrance. Our kingdom boasts the most amazing underground palace this side of the country."

He took the steps two at a time and moved so swiftly that he looked as if he was floating like a feather. It appeared as though he was evaporating through the ceiling as he climbed the stairs. Shade struggled to keep up but finally cleared the opening. The morning air was thick with mist; all the leaves and flowers were wet with dew, glistening like rainbows. The air was fresh and clean out in the deep forest. She watched the gravel and rock swallow the staircase until there was nothing left on the forest floor but dirt and plants. It must be hidden by magic, she thought, turning to see Soap waiting patiently.

He picked a brilliant purple flower from a bush and smiled. "Here is a true beauty, so rare to find in the mornings; these mostly bloom at night." He reached over to hand her the flower, bowing slightly. "A beauty for a beauty." His long brown hair swept forward and swayed in the breeze as the gold highlights shone in the sun and made his hair a brilliant honey brown, lush and loose.

Shade smiled, blushing pink and taking the flower and sniffing its wild aroma. "It smells amazing! I've never smelled anything like it." She looked up at the young man, her eyes widening. She felt different, like a calm ocean had swept her away, and she was now floating gently. Her vision swayed for a moment as she shook it off, thinking it was just fatigue. These feelings were new to her, and she didn't know what to do with them.

"Night-wind Tigerlily. It has a calming, sleepy effect but only when you smell it. It goes away almost immediately, but it helps calm the nerves. Good to have on hand if you suffer from insomnia; stuffing a few of these petals in your pillow keeps you almost sedated. Not an effect you want to have right now, but it will relax you." He winked and turned, his long hair swaying in the breeze. He walked through the shrubs, moving gingerly and skillfully, as only a trained soldier could. Shade followed him almost as if she was in a trance. This world was amazing so far. She hoped that whatever was out there would be just as thrilling and not terrifying.

They walked swiftly, dodging bushes and ducking under branches. The woods were brimming with life. Birds chirped and squirrels raced by, hurrying up the trees. The deer glanced at them as they walked past, and insects buzzed by, intent on unknown errands. Shade could actually feel the life around her, and it was like warm sunshine spilling onto her like never before. Why did the world seem so different this morning? She didn't think anything had changed all that much. Maybe this was how the land of Faerie was all the time. It was a wonder she hadn't stumbled upon it before.

Maybe it's because I avoid the outdoors like a plague.

She observed Soap. He was graceful, dodging things easily and maneuvering around like a nimble dancer. His body seemed to float around obstacles and trees like the rustling of a flowing stream of air. She wondered again if he was wearing glamour at all. "Soap?"

"Yes, m'Lady," he said as he looked over his shoulder at her, while winking one of his gleaming green eyes.

"I was just wondering why you didn't remove any glamour before. Do you wear one like Jack? Ilarial said you were part Teleen like him. Wouldn't you have to wear glamour to not electrocute things?" She pushed a branch and let it snap back with a crack while she fired her questions at him.

Soap slowed and came to a stop, turned toward her and stared intently. "Shade, I'm part Teleen, like Jack is. I'm also a shape shifter. I don't need glamour to look human. This is me as I am. I can shift and look full Teleen, like Jack, if I wish, or I could change into a bird, lion, wolf, another person or faery, anything, even...." He paused; he had been moving closer while he spoke and now stood almost touching her. He bent down slightly so that if either one of them stepped forward, they would bump faces. "I could even change myself to look like other people, other men or women. Anyone you could think of or want me to be."

She could feel his warmth radiating across the air and over her skin. It was hot and rippling. Her breath caught in her throat with him so near. He smiled. "Do you want to see?" His eyes widened with a sense of mischief dancing around in them.

She nodded, hoping she wouldn't regret that decision. In a flash, the lines around him blurred like a steamy window. Now before her stood a pale young man with jet-black spiky hair and fair skin. Gleaming blue eyes shone back at her. His build was similar to Soap's, but slightly shorter and thinner, yet still taller than she was. Their eyes were almost level and he stepped even closer, one hand reaching up and stroking her face. Shade felt her heart thud in her chest.

"I could look like anyone you can dream of. Anyone you could ever want me to be." His lips were mere centimeters from hers, arresting her breath with their proximity. He reached up to run his fingers down the curve of her cheek, making her step back as a surge of energy prickled along the line of his touch. It was enthralling and made her woozy. What's going on here?

Soap lowered his hand, still not changing back. He was radiant and glowed slightly, but it wavered. "I can use enchantments on anyone, so they'll forget who they are or even what they're doing. You stepped away. Why is that?" He contemplated his words as he intently stared at her. "I don't seem to have absolute power over you, Shade. That's very strange... unusual." He continued to look at her, frowning at his thoughts, looking slightly unnerved. A moment later, curiosity gleamed in his eyes.

"Could you change back, Soap? You're scaring me." She stepped back, her eyes wide open. "What did you do to me exactly?"

Soap smiled and just as quickly blurred right back into his normal self. His long brown hair and green-gemmed eyes glinted at her. "Pardon, M'lady. I meant no harm. I won't do that again, but you can see that my magic could be quite useful. Most fey and human alike can't resist my charm. But, you on the other hand...." He tilted his head, confused. "It barely touched you. It's as if you're immune to it or something. Amazing. Oh well, can't have everything, right?" He turned away and continued as if nothing had happened. Shade took a deep breath and followed. She felt slightly enraged by his admission that he had tried to use magic on her. He never asked her if it was okay or not. Biting her tongue, she followed silently.

The forest seemed to stretch out for miles; twigs and leaves crunched under their feet, snapping and crackling as they walked. The noise seemed louder in the vastness of the woods and quiet of the morning. Shade kept her eyes on the forest floor, but she glanced up every so often to watch Soap's long brown hair swinging in the cool breeze. He had tied it back with a leather string matching the color of his hair. She wondered who he was and why he was coming on this journey with her. She supposed it might be for her protection, but she was nothing to him. Why risk himself for her?

Her mind continued to race with questions. Why had he been alone as a child in this desolate forest? He could've been killed, eaten alive by an animal. She looked at the thick shrubbery around her and shivered at the thought.

Finally, they reached the forest's edge and could hear traffic in the distance. For a brief moment, Shade had almost forgotten about the reality of her world. She'd been so mesmerized by Soap's magic, charms and of Faerie itself. The road was not far from the woods, and soon they were walking in the direction of her house. Shade wondered if her mother had already left. She secretly wished she would run into her anyway, just to say hello, and maybe she could get a warm hug and kiss goodbye. The little things she would miss overwhelmed her. What if she didn't come back? When they had reached her house, they stopped and examined the exterior.

The worn-down exterior consisted of bricks and old siding that happened to be partially dry-rotted. The house was old but comfortable; the rust-red exterior bricks were rough with age. Weeds clung to the base of the house. Toys and balls had been carelessly tossed across the yard. She smiled. Her little brothers and sister were loved dearly, but they were also spoiled rotten.

Their mother worked hard, especially now that she was a single mom. Somehow, there was never a lack of love to go around. Sometimes she did get a little absent- minded, with so much going on between all of them, but forgetfulness was forgivable. It made Shade's heart twist with a hollow pain to think of her small, tight-knit family.

She was sure her mother was gone. The beat-up minivan was not parked in the driveway, and there were no crazy little kid screams filling the house, like usual. The place seemed eerily silent. Shade shook away her disappointment and started for the door, with Soap following closely behind.

Shade jingled her keys out of her pocket and turned the knob. No one came running to greet her when she swung open the door. The house was still and vacant. The usual noises echoing through the rooms flitted through her mind. She sighed and headed in, closing the door behind them. She turned toward Soap and nodded. "If it's ok, I'll gather my stuff. See if you can find any canned, non-perishable food we can take. And I'd like to take a quick shower," she added.

He gave her a deep nod and smiled that iridescent smile of his. Gleaming white teeth flashed at her for a second.

Shade smiled back nervously, turned, and raced up the stairs. Her room looked pretty much the same. Because she was the oldest, she and her little sister didn't share a room. It was nice that her mother had agreed with her that she needed her own space. Her mom always asked a lot of her during the day, and it was nice to have some privacy at night. Of course, that meant Anna, her little sister, had her own room, too−lucky by default.

Shade smiled, taking in the loveliness of the room. The quilt on her bed had pink and red patches in it. The walls of her room were a light shade of rose. There were also items in various shades of pink and purple scattered throughout the room. She loved to decorate and had tons of girlie stuff all around. She'd obtained most of her things from thrift stores, people at church or friends who had given them to her. Everything was a treasure to her.

She opened her drawers, began rummaging through the clothes, and stuffed some into her backpack. She riffled through her closet, found a pair of hiking shoes and grabbed them. After Shade finished throwing some towels, a pillow, and a few blankets into the backpack, she noticed a picture frame on her nightstand. All of her family was in the photo; it'd been taken at the park on a sunny spring day. Their faces were gleaming with laughter and flashing.

Shade picked up the little frame, feeling her eyes burn with tears. How she missed them already, and it was just yesterday that she'd last seen them. Her father was in the picture as well, her human father. She held back a sob and stuffed the picture into the pack. Reaching over to hook up her cell phone for a quick charge while she finished packing, she began getting things ready for the day ahead. She pulled a clean outfit out of her closet and laid it on her bed. Peering at her dresser mirror, she studied her hair, which was lying in tangled waves, glistening in the morning sun that streamed in from the windows.

What a disheveled mess! She sighed and looked around once more. Now for that shower!

She finished quickly, tossing her toothbrush, toothpaste, body wash and sponge into a Ziploc bag to stuff in her backpack. She ran her brush through the tangles of hair and groaned at the knots. She finally got them out, and the brush went into her backpack, too. She loved Ilarial's spell. There was no need to worry about packing light with that! She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, since it was still sopping wet from the shower.

All set except for the water and food downstairs. She listened for a moment for Soap, but he was awfully silent for cleaning out the cupboards. She shrugged, left the bathroom and went down the stairs.

Soap was standing by the kitchen window, which looked out at both the side yard and the front yard. He didn't seem to notice her coming in. She paused and watched him. He seemed so serene. She wondered just how old he really was and how easily he could pass for a senior in high school; well, maybe not. She smiled at the thought of Soap in gym shorts and shirt. Not really a fitting look for him.

He was staring at her when she came out of her thoughts. "What are you smiling at? Do I have breakfast stuck to my face?" He blinked at her, baffled and furrowing his eyebrows.

Shade laughed and shook her head. "No, silly, I was just thinking about how you would totally not fit in at school. You don't really look like a human teenager. How old are you anyway?" She glanced down at the pile of cans and water bottles piled neatly on the floor in the middle of the kitchen. She bent down and began shoving them into her pack.

"I'm about twenty in human years. No difference in fey years, really; that's if you go from me being six years old when I was found. Anyway, that was what they guessed me to be. Who knows? I don't remember anything before that." He bent down to help her with the food. His long ponytail hung over his face as he kneeled over the pile.

"Wow, so you could be older or younger, huh?" He nodded, not looking up. They finished and stood. "Can you think of anything else?"

"I found flashlights for you. I don't need them, but you might." He tossed some at her; she caught them just in time and frowned at him.

"What do you mean you don't need them? Do you see in the dark?" She pushed them into the pack.

Soap laughed. He had a contagious warm laugh that made her want to smile.

"No, we have witch light. We can all conjure it up if needed. I don't even need witch light. Being part Teleen I just let some of my element of lightning glow out of me. I can see just fine with that. His handsome smile flashed back at her again.

Shade stared hard at the floor, frowning. "I don't have any powers."

Soap chuckled, finding her confusion amusing. "All faeries have powers, even half-bloods like you. Don't underestimate yourself ever, Shade. It could be your undoing." He looked at her seriously, his eyes flashed a light amber, like honey.

She could've sworn that he'd had green eyes before. They seemed to change into different colors every time she looked at him. It was intriguing. Shade gulped and nodded. What could she say to that? There wasn't, so she just quietly agreed.

After they left, Shade locked the front door, stopping as she stared at its worn paint. She had a gut feeling she might not see it, or the rest of the house, again. It felt like butterflies knotted her stomach. She thought more now than ever about how much she would miss her family. She never got to say goodbye. Her hand reluctantly fell to her side from the doorknob as she turned toward the street. Nothing like saying goodbye without a goodbye.

They walked silently in the direction of the forest, passing all the houses and buildings she knew. The day was brilliant and warm with a slight breeze. Some kids were playing in their front yards, hollering and screaming as they ran around. Shade's ponytail tossed about her face with each small gust of wind.

She watched Soap walking ahead of her. His sword was still strapped to his back, and his long, golden-brown hair was swaying in the wind. She stopped, realizing how different they must look to everyone on the road. Most people don't walk down the street in tunics and have swords strapped to their backs. "Um, Soap?"

He turned, stopping to look at her, and noticed the horror on her face. He quickly darted his eyes around and looked for any signs of danger.

She jogged until she caught up beside him. "Don't we look unusual walking around in the streets dressed like Robin Hood and not wearing modern-day clothes? And your sword, why hasn't it freaked out everyone passing us or driving by?" She watched him grin and relax. That smile was getting to be unnerving.

"We're glamoured, Shade. I've extended glamour over both of us to appear like we're just two teenagers walking along in grunge clothing. Besides Jack, I'm the only one who ventures out into the cities and gets to mingle among humans. The iron doesn't even faze us at all."

Shade listened closely, slowly beginning to understand this phenomenon.

He turned back and began walking again. "I kind of like wandering around the city, sometimes. It's soothing to me andI like to watch people or just blend in sometimes. We must hurry, though. It's already getting to be late morning, and the plan was to leave around ten a.m. I think we might be late."

He began walking again at a brisk pace. Shade sighed, shook her head and scrambled after him.

Chapter Five

THE ENTOURAGE FILLED the entranceway, with all their things spread out in massive mounds. It was almost time to leave the faerys' dwelling. Everyone was stuffing bags or strapping last-minute weapons onto their bodies. Braelynn looked up from the many small bags of herbs and ground stones she and Sary had prepped, slowly arranging them in a medicine bag. The low hum of voices stopped as Shade and Soap approached the group. Sary and Stephen turned toward them and stopped sharpening their knives. Jack stood erect, ready to go. He gave them both a curt nod. No one seemed to know what to say to them.

"Guess your ears were burning, Shade, Soap. We were waiting for you," Ewan said. "Here are your sleeping tent packs, and they're all ready to go. Ilarial will be up in a moment. I'm sure she already knows you're here." Ewan's deep voice boomed like a drum; it seemed to come from deep within him, like a belly laugh echoing in a large room. He walked up to them, smiling. His husky shoulders were wide, but he was not by any means fat. Shade smiled at him; he was big-boned and looked like a fluffy teddy bear.

"Thanks Ewan," Soap answered. He was quieter now, within the group. Soap didn't seem to volunteer much information about anything, now that she thought about it, Unless she pried it out of him. There would be plenty of time to ask him more about faeries and himself during the journey.

"Hello, Shade," Ilarial came to stand by them, looking brilliant. "I'm happy to send you off with news of great weather to come, at least in the beginning. I sense good fortune for the start of your journey. I trust everyone is ready. Ewan will be your guide to the land of the Santirans. Your journey will be perilous, fraught with danger and a challenge to your endurance. Not many have ever traveled so far from the Guildrin mound. My heart and spirit are with you, Shade." Ilarial motioned to her to come closer.

"Shade, you're incredibly unselfish to aide us in our fight. Your entourage will take good care of you. They'll teach you the ways of our magic; you may seem fragile and harmless, but the potential to be great lies within you. Now, I send you off, my friends. Good journey!" Ilarial smiled and wrapped her arm around Shade's shoulders. Shade felt instantly alert and happy. Ilarial sure had a way with comforting others; she was like walking Xanax, Shade thought.

Ewan turned toward the group; everyone was stuffing the last of their items away into their charmed packs, and, like Shade's, they appeared to hold many things. He cleared his throat and held his arms out above his head.

"Alright everybody, listen up, for this will not be repeated. I'll be guiding you on the path to the Santiran lands; our stop today will be the Teleen caverns. Please stay with the group at all times. We start north until almost dusk. The Teleen are private people, and Jack has assured us of their complete cooperation. They will host us for the night. I remind everyone to keep their hands to themselves for, like Jack, they can electrocute with one touch. So, be wary."

"Second, if we are separated for any reason at all, follow the North Star to the great hills of wild flowers. From there, you will find the great gate to the caverns on the northwest end of the valley. Please let them know who you are, and you will have safe passage. They have our names from Ilarial already. Good journey, everyone." He nodded and bent to grab his own pack and slung it onto his back. He waved for everyone to follow.

Shade quickly shoved the sleeping roll into her backpack and zipped it up. She watched everyone filing in behind Ewan and cut into the line to join him, right ahead of Soap. She glanced at him as she turned her head slightly, absorbing his cool, smiling eyes. There was so much behind those eyes that Shade wondered about. She wasn't sure his overly happy exterior matched the soul within.

The forest floor crunched under their feet as they walked at a slow and steady pace. Some of the group was shifting into pairs while others chose to remain in single file. She looked over her shoulder to find Soap, and for a moment couldn't see him. He had somehow snuck up and was walking beside her. He glanced over at her. Smiling, he lifted his eyebrows into a questioning look.

"What's wrong, dear Shade? You looked mighty concerned." He was now shoulder to shoulder with her.

She gave him another quick look before darting her eyes back to the trail. Often, she had to check for fallen tree branches, tangled vines and roots that impeded their pathway. No wonder we're moving so slowly. "Um, nothing. Just nervous, I guess. Isn't there a better way to travel than on foot? How far away are the Santiran Lands? I hope it's not that far, I hate hiking...hey, why are you laughing?" Shade pressed her lips together, feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks.

Soap was chuckling. "Sorry, you just crack me up. My dear Shade, I meant no disrespect. You're a breath of fresh air. I guess it can be enlightening, chatting about our peculiar lives. To answer your questions, yes, there are better ways to get around than on foot. We have to leave the Guildrin forest, for it's forbidden to fly or travel any other way near the kingdom. Once we leave the trees behind us, we can fly, run fast, or travel by horse if available. We won't have horses because there are none so close to an iron city. We can't run because you wouldn't be able to keep up, and we can't fly because some of us can't fly at all. That leaves one option: walking." He kept his eyes on the path, swinging his short sword in front of him to slice off a branch that had swung back toward them.

"What about using a car? Or even an airplane? Why not go that way?" She felt utterly confused and not one bit satisfied with his answers. She was starting to wonder what was so great about being a faery if you couldn't do regular things like drive, or ride in an airplane.

"No way would any faery ride in one those things. They reek of iron! Like I've told you, iron is deadly to faeries. If faeries stay around iron for long periods of time, they become seriously ill." He snickered as he beat back another branch and walked along. He seemed amused and maybe a little frustrated that he had to explain the iron sickness again.

"But, you and Jack can tolerate it," Shade replied. "Is it just you and him then? Plus, it doesn't bother me at all either. Why? I'm part faery, supposedly. Is it because I'm part human?" She dodged a large leafy bush that was in her way just before it slammed into her chest.

"Yes, I suppose it's because you're part human, though not all halflings are so lucky. The fact that you're half human, you get the best of both worlds. It's the human part of you which allows you to escape from the dangers of iron sickness, and you can hide in the iron cities without any problems."

"What else are the faeries vulnerable to?"

He furrowed his brows and seemed to pause for a second to ponder her question. His contorted features made her smile, realizing she'd never get over how amazingly handsome he was. She wondered if he had a girlfriend in this fairytale life of his. It made her glad he didn't need glamour, even though none of them wore it at the moment, besides Jack. They were staying within the Guildrin forest until they reached the valley of the Teleen so no human interactions would be part of the trip. It made her wonder how big the forest really was. She had so many questions, she just didn't know where to start.

"Well, if you think about faery stories, they can be quite useful in helping you defend yourself against the fey. Cold iron is toxic, as you know. People can fend the fey off by reversing their clothes. That works mainly against the more sinister creatures of Faerie. We also have an ointment of truth that humans can use to have 'true sight', unless a faery allows them to see past our glamours or tricks. Fire keeps most wild fey away; I guess they don't like the burning carbon. I'm not sure, though. Not much of it bothers me, but anything not related to nature is pretty much an anti-faery charm."

"I would always keep some sort of a memory charm on you to remember your way home. Those are impervious to spells any faery might throw at you to make you forget who you are and enslave you."

"You don't sound like a friendly bunch." Shade snickered. "Honestly, I can't see you guys being that bad." She waved toward the other warriors and shook her head. "I just don't get it."

Soap laughed a deep, taunting laugh that made Shade glare at him. She hated being laughed at. Shaking her head, she continued on, ignoring his snarks. The other warriors were already a good deal ahead of them.

They remained in silence for a long time after that. No one spoke. Everyone silently hiked along, slicing down branches. Only the crunch of dead leaves and twigs filled the afternoon air. The birds twittered above, sometimes flying in groups with their wings flapping loudly. It wasn't easy moving fast in the forest. Roots and uneven ground were plentiful, threatening every footstep with a fall, or worse, broken bones if one was not careful. This situation is just a twisted ankle waiting to happen. Shade gritted her teeth, concentrating on the loose rocks and roots that lay haphazardly across their path.

They finally came upon a clearing in the forest. The warriors paused, watching Jack and Ewan for a signal. Jack scouted the clearing's edge and looked for any kind of movement. The rest of the group was hunched and hiding behind trees and bushes, waiting for the all clear. Shade perched herself behind a large redwood tree. The bark was rough and crumbled under her fingers. It felt warm under her touch, like there was life pulsating inside the massive trunk. She wondered why she could now feel the life all around her. Did it have to do with this forest being fey territory? She wondered if there was something new happening within her, or if they were all being affected by an unknown force.

She suddenly realized it'd been quite some time since she'd heard the voices in her head. She felt relieved, but it also felt like something was missing. Maybe she'd try what Ilarial had mentioned. Since she'd taken the medicine that Ilarial had given her to control the voices, it was easier to think. She thought now she'd try to speak to them with specific requests, and then listen for a specific answer. Ilarial had said this exercise would help her get to know the voices, and hopefully she'd learn to use her spirit guides to her own advantage.

Are we safe? Shade waited, quieting her mind and listening for the response.

Yes, they said as one.

She jumped. The answer had come like a voice on the breeze or like someone whispering into her ear. She spun around but saw no one and glanced over to Soap who was behind another tree to her left. He placed a finger to his lips, signaling for silence, and turned back toward the front of the group.

Wow, a one-word answer. It was enough to make her freak out. Ok, well that was a good little exercise. She watched Ewan give them an 'all clear' signal. Standing up, she shuffled back into line behind the warriors. Elated, she felt a renewed sense of peace inside.

The sun felt warm on her back as they worked their way across the field. They made sure to avoid the center of the clearing, choosing to avoid being too exposed. They were near the edge, and even though it would take longer to get through, it felt safer knowing cover was nearby. Shade inhaled the fresh air of the countryside. Flowers, pine trees, and deadened mulch were on the ground and mixed with dirt, but perfumed the air.

The forest was surreal compared to her usual reality of constant smog, exhaust, honking cars and the smell of iron in the city. Out here, none of that seemed to exist, and she let herself enjoy the beautiful afternoon. Dragonflies and ladybugs buzzed around her and disappeared into the forest. She wondered if they were close to a body of water with so many dragonflies about. She was surprised not to see any more of the tiny winged fey she'd encountered with Jack. There was no one else around.

Where is everyone? Are there more fey out here? Shade wondered.

Yes, they're watching, wondering who you are. Wondering why so many are treading the trails with you.

Shade smiled. The voice was gentle and did not scare her as the voices had before. It seemed like a light caress, a lover's promise in a whisper. She knew then that it would never be like before; Ilarial had used the medicine to channel the guides to help her better understand them. The voices wouldn't be an overbearing force on her ever again. She had to remember to thank Ilarial profusely for this gift.

Do you have a name? Is there more than one of you?

Yes, the voices answered. There are three of us that remain with you. Each of us will answer you in a specific situation. We each are helpful in certain things. I am Duende; the others are Astrid and Elaby. We are your spirit guides. There were more, but Ilarial has forced them away, for they're too much for you to handle. We're entrusted with your wellbeing, Shade. Ask us what you will, and we will always answer.

Shade shivered despite the heat of the sun. Their whispers were like the gentle chill of winter. The feeling prickled her skin, and was full of magic. She wondered if she'd ever get used to these changes.

The group re-entered the forest on the other side of the clearing. The cool cover of the forest canopy felt colder than it had before. Shade noticed how much darker it seemed on this end. It seemed quieter too; only a breeze rustling through the leaves broke up the silence. Even the forest floor was more barren, with packed, dark dirt and occasional twigs littered about.

This was not the same territory. Shade wondered if this was the start of Teleen territory or maybe even something else.

"Keep together, everyone. We're near the borders of the Teleen's property. It's guarded well by the dead, along with soldiers that were banished fey and ghosts alike. Welcome to the Haunted Forest." Ewan snickered, obviously thinking that everyone enjoyed his humor. No one was laughing. Shade hurried up to him as the group tightened. She was curious about the place, figuring he would be the one to ask about the name of the place.

"Ewan!" She slowed her breathing as she neared him; he had been a lot farther ahead of the group than she'd thought. She hunched over, holding her knees as her breath returned to her.

Ewan paused and looked at Shade. Even without the sun breaking through the canopy, the irises of his eyes shone like small flashlights glinting back at her. He was big; he had to be at least six-eleven. He hovered over her like he was one of the trees himself. His broad shoulders were wide, and strong muscular arms followed. He looked like a tall, husky human male with stubble almost long enough for a beard; it was dark and shadowed his jawline. A long, black as night ponytail was tied near the base of his neckline. He had a rounded nose and full pink lips. Although his height and bulk made him scary, he wasn't that bad looking. Ewan never bothered with any glamour.

"Well, little one, what heeds you?" Smiling brought out deep wrinkles around his eyes and laugh lines that creased at his mouth. This man had a smile that showed he enjoyed living and had experienced many wondrous things. He started walking again when she had caught up, moving together in stride.

"I was just wondering why they call this the Haunted Forest. What do you mean it has ghosts? Will we see any? Will they hurt anyone?" She fired her questions at him all at once.

Ewan's deep booming laugh echoed around them. The forest made no reply. "Slow down, miss, wouldn't want to wake the dead, would we? Nothing to fear now. Yes, there are ghosts and spirits aplenty here, hence the name. But since we will leave this forest for the Great Teleen caves before nightfall, we will mostly miss them. They can harm you, but only if you let your fear overwhelm your mind. They'll sense that and focus on you. So just ignore them; show no fear and stay calm. They will pretty much leave you alone." He grinned down at her.

Shade liked him instantly. He was like a large teddy bear. At least he was nice; he made her feel warm and safe. "Do we have a long way to go to the caves?"

"I'd say two to three hours' journey. We will hit the hills first and then the incline to the mountains of the Teleen. They live in massive caves that run for miles underground. You'll be most impressed." Ewan's face stilled. He glanced at her, and his eyes intensified. "Miss Shade, may I ask a question?" He continued the trek forward, glancing frequently to assess each step.

"Yes, of course Ewan, feel free."

"Are you all right with this, being the chosen one and all? Do you want to turn back yet?"

Shade's eyes widened as she stared at him. She was scared. She didn't want to go, but how could she say no? Her voice failed to answer.

"I thought so," Ewan nodded, keeping in step with her, dodging the large tree trunks in their path. It was much easier to walk on the packed earth. It was dark and rich in color and remained smooth over the small hills of the forest floor. The previous shrubs and plants they'd had to cut down had been such a bother. The trees seemed to grow larger here, too, flat out gigantic.

"Ewan, I can't say no. Something just tells me I should be here. I don't even know how to explain it. It's as if I'm being pulled involuntarily along for a ride I didn't sign up for. I can't unwrap myself from it. Besides, maybe I might find out who my real father is and more about myself, too. I do want to learn my faery powers, if I have any. That would be pretty cool. I have so many questions about things now and no answers yet, and I'm guessing this is the best way to find out." She stared at the ground. She felt weary already and they hadn't even gone very far.

"Understandable." He winked and continued on.

Shade stopped in her tracks. The hair on her neck stood on end and a sense of being watched crept up her spine. Her eyes widened as they darted, glancing around them.

"What's wrong, Shade, feel something?" Ewan stopped also, listening hard and signaling a full stop with his hand. Everyone crouched by the trees looked around, studying the woods as they stilled. Not one sound, not even the birds chirping, could be heard; the silence felt deafening, heavy and forlorn.

Shade still felt a twinge of fear. Her head shook, and the sweat began to bead along her forehead. What's going on? It felt as if something hot was being poured over her, sticky as it clung like thick syrup. Her panic boiled up inside, tumbling out of control. What is this? What's happening?

Ewan called out to the trees, "That's enough of that now. The girl is harmless. She's with us. We're Guildrin Clan, en route to Teleen. Bring down your guard. We're invited."

Shade looked about, seeing nothing but tree bark and dirt. The wind gusts picked up and swooshed around her, bringing her hair to float about her like an aura. Shade's breath failed her, and her heart jumped. The group unsheathed their swords, bows, arrows and daggers. They were readied and pointed.

Pointed at what? Shade felt something was near but couldn't see anyone or anything.

"Back down, or we will fight."

"You dare defy me, the Mistress of these woods? You should have asked me, not the Teleen, to pass. You insult my authority. Queen Zinara grows careless of her lands, and she forgets me. Forgotten, I shall never be." The wind swirled around the group, sending everyone to their knees. "Beg forgiveness of your Queen, Lady Blythe, Dryad Queen of the Haunted Forest!"

Ewan slowly bowed his head, kneeled on the ground and signaled to the others to do the same. "Forgive us, dear Lady Blythe, Queen of the Dryads of Haunted Forest. We meant no disrespect. We ask to pass through your territory to the Teleen Caves. We had no knowledge of your return to these parts; afraid we were, as was your sister, that you had abandoned the Guildrin clan. We beg mercy of Your Majesty." Shade looked up through her lashes to see if anything appeared. The wind made her blink constantly; her eyes watered from the whipping air.

Suddenly, the wind stopped. The change in the air felt even denser than it had before. Everyone looked up and gazed upon the Queen of the Dryads. She was perched on a large branch just above them. Her skin was pale and glassy white, as if she was made of porcelain. Her dark green eyes were large, so large in fact, that the whites of her eyes disappeared, and yet somehow they had a slit-like appearance. Her long dark blond hair draped around her carelessly in soft wisps down to her legs. It was like a cape, flying in some self-contained breeze. A crown of twisted twigs and angel's breath lay on her head, spilling down like entrails in her hair. The sheer dress she wore was more like torn worn silk, swaying around her in the breeze and tied together by a belt of roped vines.

She looked just as a faery would, ethereal and almost unreal. Her skin glowed like moonlight reflecting on the surface of a pool of water. Shade gasped with amazement. She thought, at first, that it was glamour the dryad wore, but, she felt no such magic floating around Lady Blythe. Her magic was the woods, the trees, earth, plants and creatures. All were flowing with energy that was tumbling toward her.

The faery snickered. She tilted her head, studying the group and narrowing her large insect-like eyes. They filled Shade with dread. Her face morphed from angelic to a morbid malice. "You are pathetic. Forget me not; I won't soon forget you, either. Give me the Halfling girl, and the rest of you can go."

Shade's eyes widened as she stood up and stepped back. She froze mid-step, as she couldn't move and could barely breathe. A sticky, thick magic clung to her again, paralyzing her into place. Lady Blythe cackled wickedly above her and shook her head. "Yes, Shade, that means you. Either you stay or they die."

"But why? What did I do? I don't even know you. What do you want from me? I have no magic." Shade felt frozen. Her legs didn't work; nothing worked. She felt as if she were in suspended animation, trapped in the stillness, as one would be in ice.

"Your Majesty, Shade can't stay here; she was sent by Queen Zinara herself on a quest." Ewan spoke, not raising his head to the faery queen, as though doing so might offend her.

"Silence, giant. I don't need your blubbering statements. I know quite well what Queen Zinara means to do. I don't agree with her strange decisions, but I know this Halfling serves more than just one purpose." She gazed at Shade, her lips thin and tense. Shade felt light headed from the intensity of it.

Trick her. Trick her into thinking you are only a mortal without powers. Trick her at her own game, Shade. Quickly! One inner voice yelled with urgency.

Shade came back to herself, still frozen but more clear-headed. The warmth of her guides and their voices swam in her head, helping her breath in her frozen body.

How do I trick her? She'd know if I'm lying; don't they all? How?

Offer her yourself fully, they suggested. But trick her into giving you a riddle. We can answer any question. If you answer right, she must let you go.

Shade swallowed hard and peered up at the Dryad Queen, feeling her evil swirling around in the air.

"Lady Blythe, Your Majesty. Please, I'll come to you freely. But, I was thinking, don't you like riddles? You look like you might like them. How about a deal? If I answer it right, we all go free with safe passage through your land. If not, I'm yours with no fight. At least we can make it fun, you know?" Shade chuckled nervously and gasped while the air felt tighter and thinner, as if she were drowning.

Lady Blythe glared at her, contemplating her words. She drilled her sharp eyes into Shade. Shade's offer had obviously caught her fancy. A moment later, a creepy, growing smile spread across her face.

"Why how quaint. How did you know about my love of riddles? How delightful! Very well then, I accept." Lady Blythe paused for a moment, looking pensive and scratching her chin. Her eyes danced with excitement as she cleared her throat. "I have one for you." She jumped up and down as she filled with anticipation. "What can walk the earth at dawn, dances in the noon sun and then never again at dusk." Her wicked smile snarled at Shade.

What sort of riddle is that?

A vampire, the voices offered.

What? Shade hissed back in her mind at the voices. A vampire? Really? This is ridiculous, I....

Trust us, Shade, please.

"Okay. Uh, I know that one. It's a, uh, vampire. The answer is a vampire." Shade's breath whispered from her lips as the thick magic surrounding her squeezed the last bit out. The queen would have to let up on the air prison if she was to inhale once more. Nothing but silence came from the Dryad Queen. She'd fallen into anger, and her eyes flashed a luminous green fire. She was steaming and furious.

"How dare you trick me? You defiant fool! You're pathetic to think you've seen the last of me. I have to let you pass now, but make sure you stay out of my way. I cannot be tricked twice. We shall meet again. I promise you that!"

Shade was hurled to the ground, coughing and gulping down precious air. Lady Blythe was gone as quickly as she had appeared. Nothing else was around, nothing but the dark woods.

"Is she gone?" Shade whispered. Her breath had still not caught up. "What did she want with me? And what the hell is she?" She brought her knees to her chest and sat rocking back and forth, willing her heart to stop racing and slowing her breath.

Jack knelt down, his hand giving her shoulder a firm squeeze. "Lady Blythe is who she said, Queen of the Dryads of the Haunted Forest. I really don't know what she wanted from you." He glanced up to where the dryad had sat not a moment before. "It's quite strange; she disappeared decades ago and has not been seen until now. Queen Zinara had assumed she was dead." He looked up at the surrounding warriors. No one seemed to have a clue as to what was going on.

"Unless the Unseelie have been working overtime and attempting to sabotage or stop us in our tracks. This feels like Unseelie treachery. How did you know, Shade?" He stood up, offering Shade his hand. She looked up at the handsome Teleen warrior, taking his hand as she pulled herself onto her shaky legs. Tears streaked down her face. The Dryad queen had scared her more than she'd realized.

"Know what?"

Jack looked at her intently, searching her face for something not known to Shade.

"That she liked riddles; you saved yourself--and us--with such a quick wit."

"It wasn't me," Shade said, shaking her head. "My spirit guides are speaking to me, helping me. They gave me the idea and then told me the answer." She coughed again and breathed in deeply.

"Well, quite a handy trick there. I hope they come in handy more often than not. Shall we continue?" Shade nodded, taking his hand and pulling herself up off the ground. "Everyone, make sure wards are up; we will not be caught so unaware again. Count us lucky she didn't have an appetite for meat today."

Shade's mouth dropped open at Jack. He glanced at her and smiled. "Just kidding, she's vegan."

Shade groaned and straightened up. Shaking her head, she fell in line with the warriors, eager to leave these woods behind her.

Chapter Six

THE TELEEN HILLS were like large swells of waves, flowing with the greenest of emerald grasses. The blades of grass rolled and swayed lightly, caressed by the wind. The air flew in constant rushes, whipping everyone's long tresses about them like tangled dancing ribbons. Shade's own wavy brown hair looked to be the shortest of the entourage's, except for Ewan's. All the women's hair seemed to be almost waist length, many with ornate braids, ties or thin ropes wrapped through like extensions. Most of the colors were unnatural; nothing a human man or woman would ever possess naturally. Waves of golden brown, reds deep as rubies, blacks as dark as midnight, and browns like tiger's eyes flowed in the breezes. It was quite a dance of flashing colors.

Shade felt a twinge of jealousy. Nothing but human light brown hair danced on her head, nothing fey-like about it. It made her wonder what she had that resembled the fey at all. Maybe she had turned out to be more human than fey. Maybe they had the wrong girl after all. It could be she had no magic besides her spirit guides. She couldn't perform glamour or heal anything, let alone fight or enchant like the Dryad queen.

Shade shivered, recalling the queen's cold stare and the ice-cold prison of air that had kept her tightly within its grasp. It had made her want to faint from a lack of oxygen. It was not something she cared to remember.

Her legs burned with the constant strain of hiking up and down the hills. The hills appeared smooth with grass but were rocky and uneven. Her tennis shoes weren't made for such rigorous hiking. She paused, leaned over and placed her hands on her knees. Her lungs ached with effort, and breathing felt like a burning torture. A faint metallic taste clung to her mouth as she coughed up spit. She was not a fan of the physically gifted. Her idea of a good time was curling up on her bed with a thick book. There was no way she would've voluntarily done anything that resembled hiking before this. Her idea of camping was a campsite where you could walk to your car and a public restroom. It had been as close as she got to being outdoorsy.

This sucks.

"You all right?" Soap paused just ahead of her, craning his neck to see her face.

Shade's cheeks were pink with heat from the strain. She swallowed her blood-tainted saliva and nodded. I can do this, no problem. Just breathe Shade, breathe. The problem was that she didn't quite believe herself. Turning toward Braelynn, who had also come to a stop by her, she attempted a weak smile for the sorceress when she gave Shade a gentle pat on the back.

"The trail will be hard; not just for you, but for all of us. In time, you'll grow accustomed to the rigorous terrain. Are you having trouble catching your breath? I have a potion you can take for that. It's kind of like asthma medicine. Most faeries don't have that kind of trouble, but I prepare treatments for all kinds of people." Shade grinned, feeling at ease with the kind warrior. "I knew it was a possibility with a human coming along. Let me know if you need it," Braelynn offered. She grinned back and moved to continue to trek in the direction of the others.

Shade sighed and closed her eyes. She knew Braelynn was being kind, but her words made her feel a twinge of inferiority, being human and all. She wondered how all of the fey felt about humans in general. Stereotyping was probably not just a human trait, and she wondered if the group thought she was weak. She hoped not.

She straightened up, took a deep breath in and attempted the hill again. The afternoon sun burned down on her, and her hair felt afire. Peeking into her backpack, she remembered her baseball cap, which she'd stuffed into it earlier. It came to her fingers as quickly as she thought it. She was never going to get used to how cool that was. Shade zipped up her backpack and pulled the cap over the wavy strands that now fell away from her ponytail. She was glad she'd remembered to bring it; her head was thanking her for it.

Shade was about to ask someone if they were getting any closer to the mountain caves of the Teleen when she heard Ewan's booming voice echoing back to her.

"The mountains are about a mile away, not too far. We'll be eating dinner in no time." He chuckled back toward the group and patted his belly.

Ewan wasn't the only one thinking about food. Shade's stomach had been protesting for the last hour. She had snacked on a granola bar, but it'd gone straight through her. She'd worked up an appetite for something a bit more substantial before her body began to turn on itself for dinner.

The last mile seemed to drag on more than the last five. Shade's back and shoulders ached from carrying the backpack. Although it wasn't too heavy, any kind of weight seemed to get old after carrying it for a while. She was not cut out for this hiking crap. Being sweaty, thirsty and, worst of all, having a thin layer of dirt that clung to everything and her skin, made her cranky and exhausted. There were streaks across her face from the mixture of sweat and dirt. Her hair frizzed out from under her cap, and some of it was stuck to her moist neck, which was itching up a storm. She suspected she had a blister or two forming on her feet, and her knees felt like they were going to fall apart.

Gritting her teeth, she rounded one of the last hills and gasped. The mouth of a cave roared above them. It was pitch black and very wide. The dirt and grass continued into the cave until the blackness swallowed it up. The wind howled over the hole, wailing eerily. To Shade, it did not seem like anyone lived there. This can't be it.

The rest of the gang gathered around the entrance as Ewan held up his hands to the air and mumbled some words. Shade looked about, not seeing anyone else around them. The feeling of being watched returned, with a vengeance. Her eyes moved up the cliffs that gave way to a jagged overhang. The rock formation was shaped like a half moon, and it wasn't just a simple hole or opening in the wall. The rocks were expansive, and they looked as if they may crumble onto anyone who dared to walk into the cave underneath it.

A shiver of glamour swept over her, like ripples in a pool of water, and all around the cave. Of course! The looming stones were a deterrent, like a spell of reluctance to whoever passed by, making them fear the large hanging rocks and stay clear of them. As Ewan spoke softly, the glamour melted away, revealing an enormous double door. The door had intricate carvings and was made of heavy wood that appeared old and weathered. Shade drew in her breath, amazed by how beautiful it was.

The wood blended into the shades of rock around it and seemed to fade into the background if she did not stare right at it. Wow, what kind of people live here to make such a fascinating place? She watched as the group gathered around the great doorway while Ewan gave the enormous doors a good shove. They creaked loudly as they opened. The groan they emitted made it clear they were rarely used. He motioned for the group to follow him.

As they entered the archway, the darkness swallowed them. Soon after, a flickering light ignited from the torches that lined the walls. The doors slammed behind them with a thunderous clap. Everyone jumped, and some had even drawn their weapons while staring at the large doors. It seemed they had closed by themselves, because no one in the group had closed them. There was no one else in the room. This is unsettling. Shade turned back toward the darkness ahead. Where is everyone? She followed her group while thinking this, wondering when the people who lived here would greet them.

They walked deeper into the dismal cave to where it led into a massive room. There were tall stone columns that reached high above them; they were made of the same grey-streaked white rock as the rest of cave. There appeared to be no one there, but to Shade's surprise, the torches around the room began to light up by themselves to brighten the space. Soon after, figures appeared out of the shadows, also holding torches. They materialized from the darkness in the blink of an eye. Each one of them was dressed in guard's uniforms, and they were engulfed in white and blue flames while electricity crackled along their skin. Shade thought of Jack and his powers. Surely, they must be Teleen.

The guards came to a stop in the middle of the room, completely surrounding them. Their eyes shone luminously, and their bodies rippled with the heat of their fire. They scared Shade, and she struggled to contain her shock. They were much more frightening than Jack had been, maybe because there were so many of them. She hoped they were not going to harm them. They made her hair stand on end as their magic and power buzzed across the room. It was like a swarm of bees or static tingling on her skin.

"Um, Ewan, are we in danger here?" Sary shouted to the giant. One hand on her bow and the other with an arrow ready to fly if needed.

He waved back at her, shaking his head but not responding. His other hand flew up, palm facing the guards as he spoke. "Guard of the Teleen, we're here under invitation of your queen. Our Queen, Zinara, has sent word of our arrival. Please stand down. I demand to speak with the Captain of the Guard."

The group tightened together as the guards' proximity grew closer. Everyone backed into each other as sword after sword was drawn and arrows nocked. Knives were also unsheathed and glinting. Everyone was ready, except Shade.

She was sweating and feeling her stomach knot into a tight cramp. She pulled one of her own knives out of her pack, shaking profusely as she gripped it. Once again, she realized her lack of training for a fight. She felt naked and exposed as she shrank into the circle of bodies around her, and let them shield her from the guards.

The Captain of the Guard stepped up and pointed his sword to the ground. He glowed a brilliant white blue all over his exposed skin. The fire burned so brightly, it hurt Shade's eyes to look at him. He seemed to realize this and immediately weaved glamour over his lighted body, assuming a more human appearance. The tan skin over his large muscles still seemed to glow slightly as the fire receded. His eyes were a blue-green fire that slowly turned to steel grey and gleamed in the torchlight. He was extremely handsome, and his long, black hair pulled taut into a low ponytail. In awe of him, Shade sucked in her breath. His charm ended as he spoke and narrowed his eyes at them, smirking.

"So, this is Queen Zinara's last hope? Don't really look like much, do you?" He laughed, but it sounded full of spite more than anything.

"Dylan," Jack responded. "Good to see you again; it's been a long time."

The captain briefly scrutinized Jack but barely acknowledged him. "You were so easy to surround and entrap. I thought for sure that she'd have known better than to send such a weak force to do the job of soldiers. I'll never understand her ways." He walked around the group, eyeing them with distain. Their weapons were drawn, but no one seemed to be holding them in readiness. Everyone was waiting. Waiting for what? Shade wished she knew.

Dylan came around to stand by Shade, having passed by the ring of warriors in the group as if they were not even there. He inspected Shade with an intensity that dug into her skin. He reached out to her to touch her cheek, but she stepped back, remembering what Jack had told her about touching a Teleen. He could electrocute her if he wanted to. She was not going take the chance to find out.

"Are you afraid of me?" Dylan sneered as his hand returned to his side. He seemed to be pondering a thought as his eyes pierced back at her. Shade made no further movements but avoided his glare. Leaning forward, he tilted his head slightly, whispering just loud enough for her to hear him. "You rightfully should be."

He gave his head the slightest of shakes and spun back around toward his guards. Signaling them to back off, he turned back to the travelers and addressed them all.

"I have announced you to our queen. She'll be most pleased to meet all of you, especially your precious halfling." He chuckled, sending a tingle across Shade's skin. He wasn't just Teleen. She was willing to bet he was something else, too. She was almost sure of it. Even so, she wasn't quite sure that he knew it. Jack couldn't do magic with his voice like this one could. Shade shivered from the aftereffects of his rippling laughter and close proximity. She ran her hands up and down her arms, trying to rub the feeling away with the warmth of friction. Shade wondered why she could sense that he was different. Maybe a power of hers was finally waking up.

After the captain signaled for them to leave, the guards departed, falling into step behind each other. No one was quite relaxed yet, remaining on alert. The group fell in behind the soldiers and followed. The hall seemed to stretch on forever, and Shade's stomach grumbled again, making her glad that all the noise of the footsteps absorbed the sound of it. She hoped they would find a nice banquet waiting for them. She could only hope for such a thing from what she'd seen so far.

The ground was also made of stone; smoothed down and worn from years of use. It was a darker grey, and sandy in color with bits of red and yellow speckled throughout it. The entire hall was the same color. There were no decorations, and nothing but the burning torches to indicate that anyone even lived there. They reached the end of the great hall as it funneled into a smaller tunnel.

The torches continued along each side of the cave. The stone did not change much, and Shade could not find any doors, much less windows. Claustrophobia seemed to creep in as she tried to slow her breathing to remain calm. The air was cool, and never seemed to change in temperature. The smell of earth, mold and humid dirt grew stronger the deeper they went. Shade swore she could hear water echoing far away and vibrating against the walls. These tunnels probably ran so deep that you could pop out on the other side of the world. Not really a comforting thought.

The hallway finally opened up once again. To Shade's surprise, it wasn't to a lair or anything she expected. A huge underground crevice loomed beneath them, opening up into a dark void. They were standing on a ledge that led to a creaky old bridge. The roof of the cave loomed high above them with small streams of sunlight spiking through and piercing the rocks above.

A bridge, Shade thought nervously. No way would she cross that; it was made of rope and wood, and it didn't look very sturdy. She sighed as she looked down over the ledge into a shadowy abyss. She could hear some water echoing and splashing down the sides of the ridge just to her right. There was probably an underground river down there, but it wasn't visible from this far up. The air was cooler and filled with light misty water sprays that she didn't find comforting. Shade had been so engrossed in staring at the rickety bridge that she didn't realize the captain was now standing by her. He was watching her reaction intently with a slight smile playing on his lips. He seemed to be enjoying her horror at having to cross the creaky bridge.

"So what's so special about you? You look less than ordinary." Dylan regarded her, his breath pressing on her ear−he was that close. She turned and almost bumped noses with the captain. He didn't budge but seemed to lean closer, invading her space so much Shade actually took a step back. He was still glamoured, and before she could complete her step, he gripped her arms to pull her back toward him. His fingers dug in with just enough pressure to hurt her skin. Shade's breath caught in her throat, and she was half-relieved he hadn't shed his glamour to shoot her up with electricity. She knew darn well he could at any time.

"Let go of me! What do you want?" She pulled, but his grip was firm. His breath was hot and sent shivers down her neck as he pulled her to him. His arms embraced her like a lover sweeping up his mistress. Her skin prickled as he let some static electricity seep around her, making her gasp with fear. She heard clinks of swords drawn behind her. He ignored it.

"You almost slipped off the edge." He gave her an amused grin. "Is this how you say 'Thank you,' human? I was just watching out for you. You don't have me fooled. I don't know what Queen Zinara really has planned, but the Teleen will not fall for her jests. She can fight her own fight. You are not true fey. You barely reek of fey blood. I have more magic in my finger than you possess in your entire body. I intend to find out what trick is behind this so-called quest that will supposedly save us all." With that he let her go abruptly, making her lose her step as she stumbled to regain her balance. Soap caught her mid-stumble as Jack stood before the captain.

"That's enough, Dylan," Jack stated firmly as he put himself between the captain and Shade. "We have no quarrel. We are here under Teleen protection, and you act hostile toward your own guests. The Queen will not be pleased knowing your hospitality was so lacking." His chest puffed out and his head tilted down, clearly challenging Dylan.

Relieved that someone had come to her aide, she turned toward Soap, who was holding her tightly. Her nerves were shredded, and she was afraid her knees would crumble beneath her.

Dylan snickered and turned back to the bridge. Walking forward to the edge of the landing, he turned around gave her a smirk. He was enjoying the growing terror on her face as he continued walking backward over the ledge.

Shade screamed but stopped suddenly, not believing her eyes. The captain continued walking backward as he floated on air and started laughing loudly while shaking his head. He then turned and continued while the rest of the guard also laughed, following behind him. They obviously got a kick out of watching their visitors panic when they learned about the invisible bridge. The entire guard walked across and did not fall into the ravine.

They have an invisible bridge? Shade and the group followed, slowly sheathing their weapons. They stepped tentatively onto the bridge which was seemingly made of air, still not convinced it was solid. Shade cautiously walked forward. It was like standing on glass, and she was surprised her legs didn't go through. Peering down, she could see the looming darkness below swallowing up the rocks.

Shade took a deep breath and continued following the rest of the warriors, trying not to look down and through the glass bridge. The cool air wasn't comforting, for she didn't know where the sides of the glass bridge were or how narrow it could very well be. She made sure she didn't step anywhere the guards hadn't stepped already.

On the other side, they re-entered a cave, but this one branched into three tunnels. Everyone stayed to the left and continued down the dark corridor until they reached another large room. It was so brightly illuminated, it was as if the daylight sun was shining in, but Shade couldn't find any windows. However, she did see other Teleen, scores of them.

The guard had split up around the room; they lined the walls in a single file. Great stone columns with veins of multi colored cracks laced with gold were at the room's edges. Large drapes of fabric spilled down the walls in colors of crimson and jade, bringing warmth to the cold, stone-lined walls. Everyone inside the room wore brightly colored clothing, the women with long flowing dresses. The men were more conservative with crisp tunics and pants made of either linen or leather.

The Teleen were all staring, as though they'd never been taught that it could be considered rude. Maybe it wasn't. It could be commonplace among the fey to stare. Whispers floated around the air as people commented on the new arrivals. Some reached out to touch them, pulling at their clothes in soft tugs of curiosity. Some of the women even blushed and giggled as Jack walked by them.

Some of the Teleen wore glamour, covering their electrifying blue-fire skins, looking ethereal with their translucent skin and large eyes. Some glamoured to appear human but were far too beautiful to pass as them. Their noses were thin and straight, and they had large almond shaped eyes with perfect, luscious rose-colored lips. She wondered how much time they actually spent with humans outside this morbid place. Jack and Soap did a fine job on their own glamours. At least they could blend in. They had studied well.

There was a throne in the center of the far wall; it had large grey, sleek and worn stone steps that led to the massive dais. The queen's throne sat upon the great platform. It was also stone, but was lighter, harder and more intricately carved. It looked to be made out of marble, but Shade was no expert. Different colored veins ran through the stone, but they did not break up the smoothness of the carvings.

The Queen observed Shade with large obsidian eyes. They were very similar to Lady Blythe's luminous insect eyes, and she didn't glamour herself either. Her fiery blue skin glowed brightly and seemed to hum with the crackle of electricity or lightning. There were constant flames flowing over her body. Her hair also looked afire, but didn't burn; it was dark with a highlight of blue crackling through it.

So that is what a full Teleen woman looks like unshielded? Shade thought. She'd noticed some of the guard and attendees were in full Teleen glow as well.

They had reached the throne when Ewan knelt down before the blue lightning queen with his head bowed. Everyone followed suit as he spoke. "Your Majesty, Queen Gretel of the Teleen. We've come from the Guildrin clan in the city of Aturine, and greet you with open arms and love from our Queen Zinara. We were told of your great hospitality and ask of you permission to rest the night and continue our journey tomorrow."

The Queen glanced around at them, taking in what she saw. She nodded the slightest of nods and spoke with a voice that echoed off the walls and rippled through the air like a cool mountain breeze. "Please stand, I am aware of your coming from my sister Zinara. She has spoken well of all of you, and I find you most deserving of her praise.

"Please also forgive my Royal Guards. They find tormenting any visitors to be quite amusing. We don't get too many visitors here, as you can see. We're an isolated clan and the last of the Teleen bloodlines. I find it a great pleasure that I'm able to aid you on your quest to the Santiran fountains. Please, make yourselves comfortable and accept our great hospitality."

She waved her arm over the crowd as they stood and found that tables had been set up in two rows, one on either side of them. One by one, tiny flying demi-fey servants came out and placed candelabras, bowls, goblets and overflowing platters of food on the tables. They were dressed in great long robes of flowing linen that rustled around them in smooth waves. Fruits, meat and rolls of soft bread filled the middle of the great tables. Shade felt her stomach rumble with hunger, and all of them were looking at each other with glee dancing on their faces.

They filed around a table and eagerly sat down at the end nearest the Queen. The Queen had a table set up right in front of her with anything she asked for. There were stone plates and wooden forks and knives already set up in front of each of them. The small faeries, which had laid out the table and food, were now darting back and forth. They were so quick and efficient at their job; all that could be seen of them was a blur of wings and hands.

Shade watched them, fascinated by how tiny they were with their wings as thin as tissue. Still, they held the tiny stick-thin figures effectively in the air. The ones she was able to gaze upon longer showed her their tiny faces with perfect tiny lips and straight noses. Most had jet-black, body-length hair. Some tied their hair back, and some left it hovering around them like capes. Their large almond, insect eyes were black as night and blinked at her curiously. None of them smiled but just flitted by her, leaving a gust of cool air as they raced by.

Shade could feel the exhaustion seeping from her bones. The food was working on her already and helped fill the void in her stomach. Sleep was pulling at her eyes, and her body ached with every stretch and movement. She looked around at her friends, who also they seemed tired as they quietly munched on the great feast. She had stuffed her belly full and felt a twinge of regret with the pain of her swollen stomach, making it hard to breathe.

Shade sat back in her chair and looked across the table. On the parallel stone table straight across from her was Captain Dylan. He stared at her and smiled. His face took on a softer look as he nodded to her with his cup held up in the air. He set it down and interrupted by a guard to his left. Shade glanced at the man who was now leering at her as he spoke softly to the captain. He had a similar facial structure, but looked a bit younger than the captain.

Shade was betting they were related. She had barely noticed they were both looking at back at her now. The other guard's dark stare was just that much colder than Dylan's. She probably had stared too long and felt her cheeks flush, turning quickly away to hide behind her goblet of sweet punch. She pushed away her plate and glimpsed at her friends, praying they'd be heading to their rooms soon to sleep.

"Shade, are you done? We're headed to our chambers soon. Ready to go?" Braelynn asked as she gave her a flashing smile. Relieved, Shade nodded and stood, following them as they began to file out.

A dark-haired and pale-skinned Teleen woman stood in front of them and waited for them to gather around. She smiled broadly at someone and held her arms out. Shade craned her neck to see whom she was grinning at. Jack melted into the embrace, hugging the woman tightly. As he began pulling back, the woman hung on a little longer. It was just long enough to whisper something into Jack's ear. He then pulled back abruptly, frowned at her, shook his head, and answered her sternly but softly enough that no one else was privy to the conversation. Shade wondered who the woman was and how she knew Jack.

Jack turned back to the group, now composed, with a face of serenity. He cleared his throat and spoke loudly for all of them to hear. "Okay guys, Sylphi here is going to join us and show us to our rooms. We'll be spread out some, for these are natural caves and are quite large. Don't go wandering either. These tunnels travel far and it's easy to get lost. If you absolutely must, please only leave your room accompanied by someone else." He waved to them to come forward, and they all filed in by twos behind him and Sylphi. Sylphi kept trying to inch up near him, but he avoided her advances by stepping back and cramming in beside Shade and Braelynn.

"Shade, how are you finding the trek? Getting too tired?" He smiled down at her and completely ignored Sylphi's raging glare. The woman turned back toward a large tunnel that they all entered. Joining her were Captain Dylan and his near-relative looking guard from the table.

"Um, it's ok. My muscles are killing me. I've never felt so sore in my life. I think I might have some blisters on my feet that are hurting something awful. I'm really not an outdoors type; this is really a big push for me."

"Ah, you will need Sari's famous foot soak. That'll take care of anything on your feet for sure. I am sure she will have something for your muscle aches; this journey will take a toll on us all. I'll have her stop by your room after she gets settled," Jack said.

Sylphi was giggling and turned back toward them. "Shade, you might like Darren's famous massage. He'll definitely make you forget any pain you ever have felt. And more...." Her voice had a singsong way, but with a definite malicious tone to it. She playfully patted Darren's back.

"Thank you, Sylphi. I'll try to make myself useful for anyone who wishes." Darren, Captain Dylan's sidekick, snickered. Shade swallowed, as she thought the massage somehow did not sound like something she'd need at all.

"That's enough from both of you. I'm sure they're much too tired from the long journey and just want to get some shuteye. Just show them their rooms already," Captain Dylan snapped. He grumbled under his breath and gave Shade a dark look. She wondered why he didn't like her. He doesn't even know me. Why would he be so mean?

It's because the unknown is a thing to fear, Shade. Never forget that, the voices chimed in.

Shade sighed. She had to agree with them. She just wasn't so sure about the company here tonight. It was Darren in particular, who gave her the heebie-jeebies. He just seemed to radiate some kind of evil. She wasn't sure why he was chosen to be one of their escorts; it didn't seem very appropriate somehow. Shade glanced at Sylphi. She's no better.

The dark-haired Sylphi was hanging off of Jack's arm now, whispering something into his ear. Shade wondered if those two had a thing for each other or if it was one-sided. From the look on Jack's face, he did not seem to mind her hanging on him, but frowned every now and then at some of her comments and giggling.

She reminded Shade of the mean girls back at school, always finding a victim to torture amongst the high school kids. Sylphi was the kind of girl who would make snide comments to a good girl and send her the bathroom with tears of humiliation streaming down her face. Shade narrowed her eyes and shook her head. Those kinds of girls thrive on others' suffering. It'd probably be best to straight out avoid her, Shade thought. At least they were only here for a night and would not have to endure the Teleen's "hospitality" too much longer.

"What are you thinking about, dear Shade? Have we offended you in some way? You're shaking your head with such disdain. Has your stay been so unpleasant so far?" Sylphi asked, suddenly at Shade's side. She slipped her hand around Shade's arms and bent closer to her. Her pale skin shone like moonlight, only with a slightly bluer tinge to the glamour she wore. The smell of roses and another fragrant scent surrounded her as she invaded Shade's personal space.

"Jack's mine, you know; I do hope you understand, That's if, of course, you were getting any ideas about him." Syphi whispered to her. "We're to be married soon. I know that, being a woman, you'd understand how rare it is to find such a wonderful strong and handsome man like Jack. Just letting you know how very much he has missed me. I feel so overjoyed to have him back; he stays away far too long. Oh, here we are now!"

She paused, smiling deeply for Shade. It was a smile that seemed to cut into Shade like a knife, full of things wickedly unsaid. "Your room, my dear. Do have a good rest. You'll need it!"

Shade scurried into the room and turned to see Darren leaning by the open door with arms crossed, smiling at her.

"Do let me know if you change your mind about the massage. I find you most fascinating, Shade. I've never met a human before. It's been quite a delight." He snickered, bowing as he left. Darren had shut the door for her and when it clicked, Shade ran to it and turned the lock as quickly as she could.

Leaning against the smooth wood, she finally let her breath out. Somehow, she did not feel right. Something about this place was setting alarms off in her head like crazy. She pulled her pack off and rubbed her shoulders, looking around the room for the first time.

The room was gorgeous. It was a cave, and it didn't have any windows. The air was cool with an undertone of dampness that left a bit of a chill. There was a nice large bed at the far wall, just opposite the door. It was piled with fluffy pillows and soft blankets and was neatly arranged to not seem messy, but comfy. There was a wooden table to one side of the room that she placed her pack on; it was long and polished smooth from use. Above it was a silver mirror with a vine design frame; it had crystals embedded all around the edges. It was breathtaking but seemed out of place in that room.

Shade stood there, staring at her reflection. She looked tired; a thin layer of dust seemed to stick to her skin and hair. That wasn't what stopped her though. The mirror looked like it had a tiny ripple in it. It was as though she was gazing at her reflection in a still pool of water. It looked smooth and almost see-through. She reached out her hand, letting her fingers almost caress the surface.

Suddenly, almost as if something had turned it off, the mirror was once again solid. Shade's fingers clinked against the hard glassy surface. It was nothing more than a plain mirror. Shade stared at it for a moment longer, shaking her head again. Nothing is as it seems here. She felt like Alice, deep down in the rabbit hole.

She let out a breath and turned toward a door in the wall of the cave that was next to the table. She turned the crystal and wood knob slowly, praying that nothing awful would jump out at her. It turned easily and opened into a well-lit bathroom. She laughed, relieved by the normalcy of it. A bathroom.... It was both modern and well-equipped with a massive claw-foot tub on one side and a large shower. The shower itself had several showerheads installed, but no door and a drain on the floor. She reached in, turned the curved silver knob on the wall and watched with amazement as water fell like rain pouring out of the spouts. She beamed; the water was the perfect temperature. Soaps and a sponge were on a ledge near the end of the shower, wrapped in twine and topped with a bow. Shrugging off her clothes, she stepped under the pouring water. It felt amazing. The hot water ran down her skin and rinsed the day's soil away, swirling dirt down the drain.

Shade hadn't checked for towels before entering the shower, but a glance around the room revealed a neat stack of them set out on the counter. Turning the shower off, she stepped out and pulled one out of the stack, wrapping it snugly around her body. She didn't feel any cold since the steam and warmth of the water seemed to remain with her. She pulled another towel out to rub her hair, twisting it around her head to absorb the water. She'd left her bag with her clothes in the bedroom. Groaning, she hoped it wasn't too cold when she exited the warm cocoon of the misty bathroom.

The room was as she had left it. Glancing toward the door, she listened for any movement or voices. The stone walls seemed to insulate the rooms very well, and she didn't hear anyone. Natural soundproofing, she pondered, rummaging through her pack. She managed to find and pull out a deep blue nightgown with a pair of underwear. After quickly dressing, she noticed that the cold air from the bedroom had started to penetrate her skin.

Shade shivered and rubbed her arms. Her hair was still wet from the shower and felt cool on her shoulders. There was something else though, making her stop what she was doing as she felt goose bumps flare across her skin. She looked around the room and couldn't figure out why she was suddenly so cold. She heard what sounded like a whisper, but saw nothing. Where had that voice come from? She held her breath, listening hard for anything else.

Her eyes darted around as she waited. None of her spirit guides responded to her inner pleas; it was as if a mute button had been pushed. She didn't like it one bit. Something was very wrong. Shade grabbed one of her daggers from her pack and listened once more. Nothing jumped out at her, and there were no more whispers. Her heart raced and pounded in her ears. She held her breath, listening and frowning. It was probably nothing. Shaking off the crazy feelings, she tossed the dagger on the vanity table and walked to the bed. She slipped under the soft sheets and pulled one of the thick quilts on top of her. Looking around one more time, she stared at the mirror one more time.

Is it rippling again? She shivered and felt uneasy. I need to rest; I'm just really tired and exhausted. That's why I'm starting to see things. Tomorrow will be here before I know it. She then decided to reach for her pack and pulled out her cell phone. It still had a charge on it, but she doubted there would be an outlet here to top it off. It read 10:45pm. Ugh, it's getting super late!

They had planned to regroup for breakfast at six am and after that, continue on their journey. She pulled out her charger and glanced down the wall near the floor. The lamp plugged into the wall so there had to be an open outlet just next to it. She couldn't believe her luck as she plugged her cell phone in. Faeries with modern technology! She wondered if all the rooms were like this, or was she the only one with modern comforts in her room. For certain, there'd be iron in the conduits running through the stone walls.

Shade shrugged; she'd have to ask Jack about it later. The Teleen wouldn't be bothered by it, but what about her friends? It was something to ask about. The palace at Guildrin didn't have such amenities. The light had come from torch and candle, and from some weird magical spell that illuminated the place as brightly as natural sunlight.

Shade lay back, sinking into the bed and sheets. She let the blankets envelope around her, embracing the body heat trapped in the soft sheets, which made the bed feel like heaven. Reaching over, she clicked the lamp back off, trying to avoid looking at the creepy mirror again and instead closed her eyes, letting herself slip away into sleep.

Chapter Seven

"SHADE."

The blue fire was glowing all around her, crackling and popping on all sides. The walls seemed to be close to her, enveloping her like a cocoon. She stood up from the ground where she'd woken. Is this real? A dream? She didn't know. Feeling the walls with her hands, they felt hard and rough with cool stones. The sound of her own breath echoed around her, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary besides the fact that she had no idea what was going on. The fire came from the other side of the room. It stood like a pillar the size of a man. In fact, as she stared longer into the flowing flames, the image of a man surfaced in the fire. She gasped. The man's eyes remained closed and his hands laid crossed over each other on the hilt of a gleaming sword. The blade also glowed with wisps of blue fire. Its hilt was made of dark red rubies; the red flames spread from his hands onto the blade of his sword.

Shade walked toward him, asking him who he was. He didn't respond to her inquiries no matter how much she pleaded. She kept going and although her feet were bare, she did not feel cold as she thought she would. Her heart pounded in her chest as she reached out to the man.

"Help me," Shade whispered to him, her voice faint and weak. Her fingers were almost touching the blue flame engulfing his body even though she felt afraid. She didn't know if the flames would burn or scald her hands. Somehow, she needed to wake him and make him help her out of this place, this tomb. Taking in his face, she realized that he looked a lot like Dylan, the way he would look had he been resting and peaceful.

Suddenly, his eyes and mouth flew open, and a bright, white light poured out of them in piercing rays. A sound like loud ethereal music filled her ears to the point that it sent her to the floor, covering them. The music seemed to scream into her, filling her with prickling pain.

Then the words came, and they were excruciating:

"WAKE UP AND RUN, SHADE!"

*****

SHADE'S EYES FLEW open as she gasped, thrashing in her bed. It was still very dark, and it took a moment or two for her eyes to focus and readjust.

Am I alive or dead? Where am I? She felt panicked and couldn't breathe, her chest arrested with a searing pain.

She reached over to the lamp, but without any light, she fumbled and sent the lamp smashing to the floor. The nightmare had left her with a dull, disorientating ache in her head. Just then, the room lit up around her like a blinding floodlight, making her pupils contract painfully.

She stopped fumbling and stared at the changed silver and crystal mirror. It was on fire with blue flames dripping out like liquid molten rock. It crackled with white electricity and poured out of the rippling surface, down the table and into the middle of the room. The pillar it formed shifted and morphed into a man.

Darren.

Run! Run now!

She screamed as the voices returned, panicked and jumbled in her mind. However, she soon realized no one could hear her through the solid rock walls. She pulled the blankets off but never made it out of the bed before he jumped on her. He pushed her down and smacked her face. His cold laugh rang through her ears as he snarled down at her, watching her squirm and kick helplessly.

His eyes were facets of blue white light, blinding her even more as he pinned her under his legs and squeezed her arms so hard she felt them aching and burning in protest. There were surely bruises forming on skin. He smacked her again so hard that stars flared in a sea of darkness. She almost blacked out, fighting to stay awake and tasting the iron flavor of blood in her mouth. The left side of her face felt on fire.

When her vision cleared, she took in the horror of Darren completely engulfed in fire. His blue flames roared around them but nothing burned, as though his fire was cool to the touch. To Shade's surprise, she wasn't burning under his grip, giving her a renewed urge to struggle. His grip kept her in place while the room spun. She wondered briefly if he had given her a concussion or something. Her stomach lurched with nausea, threatening to spill her dinner.

Blinking, she tried to focus. "Darren, let me go!" She coughed up a mouthful of blood and spit at the faery.

He snarled at her. "You pathetic mortal, I forgot how much you bleed and injure so easily. No true fey would be so fragile. My apologies, of course. I do wonder, though, why you aren't burning up into crumbly ash. I always did like to watch mortals turn into dust while I burnt them. I'm just a little bit sick like that." He snickered and hopped off the bed, never letting his glare slip from her. "Show me what you've got, Shade. I want to know why you're so special. What's your secret? What is it that Jack won't tell me?" His face morphed from mocking to angry as his fire was flickered in and out. The fire flashed rapidly, making the room pulse like a bright strobe, serving to disorientate her even more.

Shade tried to stand by grabbing the nightstand and pulling herself upright. She could barely balance on her shaky legs, which didn't want to work at the moment. "There's nothing special about me, Darren. I'm just a halfling. I'd think you'd have heard that by now. Really, there's nothing else. I don't really have any magic. I'm still learning. I swear, I don't know anything else!"

She stood and stepped toward Darren but fumbled, tripping on her sluggish limbs. He caught her as she slipped and spun her around to where they faced the fiery mirror, still aglow. She stared at their reflections as her mind scrambled to find a way out of his embrace.

Darren smiled coldly as he yanked on her hair with one of his hands. His other arm encircled her chest, holding her arms tightly to her sides. Squeezing her even more, he nuzzled her neck and whispered into her ear. "What do you see, Shade? Don't you like my fire? You see how pathetic you are? No human should be so special. I really don't get why they chose you. You're so fragile, weak, and pathetic. Why not choose a great faery warrior, like myself, for instance? You're a tarnish to our race, and I think I will be doing us a great favor by getting rid of you." His flames began to burn higher and licked the air around them, making it so his face no longer could be seen in the mirror.

Shade stared at her reflection. Her cheek had an angry red welt from his blows, and as the flames grew around her, she felt her panic rage. Soon she began to see his face again as it grew more serious. He appeared deep in thought, pondering her reflection.

"Maybe we can have some fun first. You're not so ugly. What do you think about that, love? Don't you find me appealing?" He pulled her head back, making her gasp, her scalp stinging with pain. His nose grazed her cheek and earlobe, making her cringe at his touch. "This'll be fun, no?"

He will never touch me, never.

Shade attempted to pull her head away from his hot breath. He laughed again and let up on his hold so she could see their reflections again. "Do you like my mirror? I placed it here just for you, just so I could watch your every move. That's my magic. It's a special talent not a lot of Teleen possess, the gift of traveling through mirrors. I have the matching one in my room, so wherever I place this one, I can go, even into your locked chamber. What good did the locks do you now, Shade? No lock can keep me out; no door could close on me. It'll be our little secret." He laughed hard, his chest shaking behind her back.

He abruptly loosened his grip on her head for a moment, and Shade took advantage of his careless release. She shoved him back with her entire body weight, making him lose his balance for a moment, throwing him to the bed. She ran to the mirror and looked around for something to smash it. The dagger she'd left on the table gleamed as brightly as Darren's fire. She laced her fingers around the hilt, squeezing it hard until her knuckles turned white. She swung her arm and shoved her strength into it, ramming the metal into the mirror. The crash echoed in the cave as it smashed into a thousand glittering shards.

"No! How did you know...what have you done?" Darren had just reached her and grabbed her free arm, yanking at Shade. His momentum came to a sudden stop as he was instantly pulled into the glass, along with a flash of lightning. The last glint of it blinded her and plunged the room into darkness.

Her eyes focused on the dim glow of the dagger as its light grew a bit stronger in the black room. She stared at the mirror shards, scattered and shimmering all over the room. They didn't look unusual in any way. Just plain mirror pieces glittering across the floor like diamonds. She limped to the light on the nightstand, jabbing her bare feet on the glass. Blood trailed her steps in smudges and drips from cuts stinging her flesh. Her legs, weak and shaky, began to drag under her. She fell to the floor by the bed and slipped into the developing darkness. The glow of her dagger faded into the dark, and the whole world with it.

Chapter Eight

"SHADE, CAN YOU hear me? Shade? Braelynn! She's rousing, not quite awake yet though. It's ok, Shade. You're going to be ok. You're safe now. No one will hurt you. Can you hear me, Shade?"

The voice sounded familiar, safe, and gentle. Shade wondered if her mother had come. Maybe this was the hospital. Maybe she was dreaming, or worse, dead. She couldn't open her eyes yet, but she could hear the commotion all around her. She tried to move, but her body did not respond.

"It's all right. You're still hurt, so don't try to move too much. We've healed most of your wounds, but you should still move slowly. Your head is still healing."

Shade opened her eyes a sliver. The room's light was blinding and it stung her eyes. Blinking, she quickly reached up to cover them. A thousand prickling, sharp pains shot through her arm and down her side. She flinched and stopped moving, groaning as she sank back down onto the bed. Every movement resulted in pain screaming down her body. She felt like she'd been hit by a freight train.

"Shade, are you still feeling some pain?"

She managed a slight nod as she gasped for air.

"Take this liquid. It will make you feel better," Braelynn's soft voice echoed in her head. She felt the warm liquid touch her lips and slide into her mouth. It tasted sweet across her dry, parched tongue, like honey-sweetened tea. Letting it coat her mouth, she sighed with relief. A moment later, the sharp aches faded even more, making it easier to open her eyes to the dimly lit room. Somehow, it didn't seem so bright anymore. They must have dimmed the lights when they realized she couldn't see.

"What happened?" Her voice was a harsh whisper for her throat felt rough and dry like sandpaper. The room came into focus, and she noticed not only Braelynn but also Sary standing near her. She slowly sat up as Braelynn slipped a few pillows behind her, propping her up. She glanced down at her arms, studying a scatter of healing, scabby slash wounds. Her left hand also had stitches across the palm and was in a good state of healing. Holding it up to her face, she studied it more closely. Most of the wounds were in the mid-stage of healing as if she'd been hurt days ago and not hours.

"How long was I out of it?" Shade dreaded to hear the answer.

"You were attacked in your room about five days ago, Shade. You've been unconscious since then. You'll be fine; your wounds are healing well. Braelynn was able to stop the bleeding inside your head, but it drained her so much, she was unable to heal all of your cuts completely. She was unable to wake you up, too, even though your head is fine now. It's almost like you were under some sort of spell."

Sary sat on the bed next to her. A sweet, concerned smile lit her face, crinkling her sparkling eyes as she patted Shade's arm. Her hair lay draped around her neck in soft waves of crimson fire.

"It was Darren. He attacked me. He came out of the mirror in the room!" Shade swallowed back her panic, feeling the events of that night rushing back. "Where is he? He was really going to hurt me. He wants me dead!" Tears stung behind her eyes and for a moment, she wished to be back home with her mother. Her room seemed like a distant sanctuary in a forgotten dream. Sary hugged Shade tightly as her sobs overcame her.

"It's all right, Shade. I don't know how you did it, but somehow you trapped him in the mirror when you smashed it. He was incredibly angry and rendered quite harmless. He was released from the mirror prison by the Teleen warlock and placed into one of the cavern's confinement cells, where he has been ever since. We've waited for you to awaken; The Queen is most upset and anxious to seal his fate," Sary said with her eyes shining. They were lovely and burned like jewels on fire. She stood up and retrieved a cup from beside the bed and handed it to Shade, encouraging her to drink it. "Drink, Shade; you must be very thirsty. We gave you fluids similar to those in an IV in the human world, but nothing refreshes like real fluid drunken into your body."

Shade nodded and gripped the cup. The cool water felt amazing going down her throat. She immediately felt better, not as upset and instantly more awake. She finished the drink and handed the cup back. She was really starting to like faery food and drinks.

Glancing around the room, she was relieved it wasn't the same room she'd been attacked in. It was similar but lighter in color and had no mirrors. She didn't think she could handle any more mirrors quite yet. Her backpack lay on a table by the door, and the sheets and blankets were all crisp and white. This was probably their version of a hospital room.

"What are they going to do to him?" Shade's voice seemed small, her eyes staring down into the floor while she thought about her attacker. Shivers crept across her body as the memory resurfaced. He had stolen something with his brutality. She felt more vulnerable than ever and weak. How could anyone be cut out for this magical place? She'd have to start training right away if she was going to survive the rest of this journey. Two threats on her life in one day had been two she could have lived without. She had no idea what she'd gotten herself into and didn't like how it made her feel. Darren had taught her a harsh and vicious lesson.

"That will be up to Queen Gretel. I hear they take offenses quite seriously among the Teleen. He'll probably be expected to pay an equal price for your attack. Most attempted murders are punished harshly," Braelynn explained. "Even death is considered an adequate punishment if he was planning to kill you. This, I expect, is what he was out to do from the state of things in your room and the amount of injuries he caused you. He must pay for what he did to you, Shade." She looked seriously at Shade from the wicker chair near the end of the bed. Shade suspected that she'd sat there a great deal during Shade's period of unconsciousness.

"He said that he could travel through a matching pair of mirrors. He placed that mirror in my room to get to me. I even locked my door, but it didn't matter." Shade's voice quivered as she recalled his dark words. "He said he was going to kill me, and that I tarnished the faery races. I didn't do anything to him, and he hates me. Why?"

"That is the question, is it not, Shade?" Jack interrupted from the doorway. He took up most of the entrance with the bulk of his muscle-bound body. "During interrogations, he refused to speak of his reasons. He won't even say if he had any accomplices." He walked closer to the bed, his face weary and tired. "I have come to summon all of you--that is, if Shade can walk--to Darren's trial. The Queen has gotten word that you have awoken and is anxious to proceed. We need you there for Queen Gretel to issue his sentence. How well are you, Shade? Can you come?" He exhaled, rubbing his eyes as if he hadn't been sleeping well.

Shade looked at him, feeling almost petrified at the thought that more fey may be out to get her. Trying to shake off the feeling, she nodded. She was feeling a lot better now with the potion they had given her. She shifted her legs out to the side of the bed and felt the cool stone under her scabbed feet. She paused, wondering if her legs would hold. She stood up slowly and found her legs sturdy and strong. Her smile stretched across her face. That medicine is good stuff; I'm going to have to stock up on some for my whole clumsy family!

She straightened, flattened the mess of her hair as best she could, and accepted Sary's support as the warrior princess jumped to offer a hand. Shade smiled at her, grateful for her encouragement. Sary returned it tentatively, and nodded in understanding as she slipped her arm under Shade's. Braelynn placed two soft leather slippers in front of Shade's feet. The leather was so smooth it was almost like silk against her skin. She shuffled forward and headed toward the door.

Jack took her free side, letting her hold his arm for support. They walked slowly down the hall to the great chamber, which glowed bright as daylight once more. For the first time, Shade peeked up at the roof and noticed how much it looked like a bluish-white sky at mid-noon. They were deep underground, and the sky stood there as natural as it was outside. She still couldn't make out the source.

Looking around them, she saw that everyone, including all of the Teleen clan, were there waiting for them. The room was crammed full of faery people, like on the night of their welcome feast. She wondered what had been going on the days she'd been unconscious. How much time had been wasted of their journey, all because of what had happened to her due to Darren's treachery?

Her friends ushered her up some steps and Queen Gretel stood up from her throne as they approached. She glided toward Shade, stepping down slowly and bowing her head at her. Shade followed along, noticing how Sary and the others reciprocated the bow. Queen Gretel, who now wore human glamour that shielded her fire, reached out and held Shade's hands. Her pale, blue-tinged skin looked odd for a human, but sufficed enough to glamour her. She smiled warmly but spoke quickly and seriously. "Dear Shade, I am most pleased at your quick recovery. I apologize for my guard's indiscretion and most unfortunate actions. Please, come with me." She pulled Shade further up the steps to sit at a chair placed next to the massive stone throne. Shade complied, sitting down and turning toward the queen as she addressed the crowd standing before them.

"My people, Shade was attacked, here in our own great cavernous dwelling. Our home has been the scene of bloodshed and pain. This is not allowed among the Teleen, and such brutality will come with a dear price. Accused for such crimes against our guest is Darren, one of our own Teleen guards. He stands now for his punishment."

Shade sat up straighter and sucked her breath in at the mention of the perpetrator. She'd been feeling much better. That is, until she spied Darren approaching. The crowd opened for a double line of guards who were escorting Darren through the room and toward the throne. His head was hanging down with his long, dark hair disheveled and riddled with tangles. He looked like he had not rested in days, and his wrists were bound with strips of thick leather. Each arm was held firmly by a guard. Captain Dylan stood in front of them and bowed before the queen.

"My queen, Darren has confessed to his crime. What price shall our queen make him pay for his violations?" Dylan appeared strong and commanding, in full Teleen guard attire but without his helmet. He remained bowed and awaited her answer. Darren and his escorts mimicked his movements, though Darren appeared to be shoved into submission.

"Please stand, Captain Dylan, guards." Queen Gretel motioned. "I have come to the conclusion that only one punishment will suffice for such a deliberate and violent attack." She looked up and scanned the crowd. The silence was heavy and hung in the room like thick smog. Shade was sweating, and her heart raced with nauseating anxiety as she waited. She just wanted to have Darren gone, away from her sight, or to run from him as fast as she could. His presence was like a bad nightmare come to life, a suffocating presence.

"Darren must now pay tribute to Shade. A blood debt created demands payment. Only blood from death will be appropriate for such a crime." Gasps rippled through the mass and whispers ignited like flames through the shocked crowd. There were even heads shaking while others began to holler out protests.

"My decision stands. As your Queen, my judgment is final. Silence!" The crowd hushed as quickly as it had erupted.

"My Queen," a voice interjected. The Teleen queen turned to look upon Captain Dylan, now kneeling before her, head bowed and stiff. "May I speak, Your Majesty?"

"Rise and speak, Captain Dylan. Your Queen has acknowledged you. Darren being your only brother, I am sure you have much to say." She held her hand out as if to summon him to rise. Dylan rose slowly and stared back at the petite woman. His face was a well of stillness, eyes empty and blank with no feelings escaping from their pits.

"I beg thee to please reconsider. I ask you, my dear Queen, to spare the life of my only brother, Darren. I carry an oath to our long deceased mother to care for him in her absence. Please, consider an alternative price." Dylan bowed his head again and did not look back up. He seemed to be acknowledging the Queen's dominance over him and over all the people that called the caverns their home.

Shade blinked as she glanced between him, the Queen and Darren. Brother? So that's why there was a resemblance. Darren is Dylan's brother! Of course, she thought, putting it all together.

Dylan seemed genuinely concerned, but his face remained hard. He did not seem like the snickering captain of the guard she'd met her first day at the Teleen caverns. He stood still and humbled before the Queen. She wondered if he was holding his breath while he waited for her answer. Why he would defend such a rotten man, even if he were his own flesh and blood was beyond her.

"Dylan, my faithful captain, you have served me well for so many years. I'm afraid only a fair blood trade would suffice. Knowing your mother's wishes for you and your brother, I will consider this in my decision." She tilted her head and watched him, studying his stoic demeanor as if reading his innermost desires. "What if I amend my judgment, let's say, for an equal payment? Would you trade your life in your brother's place, then? I will only amend the death price if you trade your blood and services for your brother's life."

Captain Dylan looked up at that remark. His eyes widened in surprise and seemed utterly tortured. He studied the Queen in confusion. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but what sort of blood price trade do you mean?"

The Queen smiled, glancing at Shade before speaking again. "I require that you say yes before I explain. Will you trade your life for your brother's? I promise this will not mean a death sentence on your part if you do so. Your brother will be freed, but only if you agree to the terms in full."

Dylan stared intensely at the Queen for what seemed like an eternity. Letting his eyes drop to the floor, he let out a defeated sigh. Shade watched him gulp and think hard on the Queen's words. He nodded to himself, blinking back up toward her. He visibly straightened, regaining composure once more. "Yes, My Queen. In place of my brother, I will assume punishment for crimes he has incurred, short of death." He dropped his gaze again, hiding his face as it flushed with a scarlet heat. He was probably not too happy about having to learn his fate after he swore to trade places with Darren.

In eager anticipation, Shade glanced between him and the Queen.

"Well then, Dylan, I am glad to hear that an honorable man such as yourself would assume a lesser man's punishment. He's undeserving of such a thing, even if he is your brother. So, in consideration of your own innocence, I hereby proclaim that your blood payment will be a blood bind to Shade. You are to protect, follow and serve her until the blood price is paid in full. Release from it will only come when the land of Faerie deems it fulfilled. Any failure to do these things will revoke the trade, and the original judgment on Darren of death will stand."

Shade shook her head, shocked at what the Queen had just done. "No, please, Your Majesty, I don't need a servant or a guard. I have an entourage already. My friends will guard me. He didn't do anything! I can't do this. Please release him! It was Darren who did it." She looked up at the Queen and knew immediately that protesting wasn't going to do any good.

"Shade, he cannot reject this punishment; to do so is to bestow death upon his brother. You must accept this, or you condemn Darren to death. Only time will tell when Dylan will be deemed worthy to be released from the blood bond. For now, please come here and give me your hand." The Queen's still face gave nothing away. Defeat hung in Shade's shoulders as she complied, giving her left hand to the petite woman. "I must bind you to make this trade complete. It is the way of the Teleen. Dylan will serve you faithfully, protect you and keep you safe. He cannot betray you or cause you any harm, for if he does, he will break his oath, and death will consume his brother immediately. Don't be afraid. Come." She slipped her hand into Shade's, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Shade held her breath. She was trembling so hard that it shook her entire body, leaving her unsure if she could stay standing for much longer. Fainting would be a very bad thing right now.

"Dylan, come here and give me your hand, too."

The captain stepped up to stand across from Shade, holding out his hand without further argument. The Queen held out a small, sharp knife with a hilt which gleamed with blood red rubies. Shade felt its magic rush over her in a ripple of warm energy. It was an oath maker, the Queen explained, made especially for blood bonds.

She took Shade's hand, palm up, and pressed the knife softly into it, dragging the blade across her palm. Soon, deep red blood seeped from the wound and trickled down her wrist. She repeated the process again on her other palm; amazingly, they did not hurt at all. For all Shade knew, the knife's magic took the pain away. The Queen turned and did the same to Dylan. She then took both their hands and clasped them together.

Shade looked up at Dylan as their warm, thick blood mingled. She could feel his fiery aura spilling onto hers, but it did not burn. Shade felt powerful as Dylan's aura licked the edges of her own, revealing sides of him he'd kept hidden, making Dylan's grip tighten. She felt his strength and magic, but did not feel threatened. Looking into his grey steel orbs, she noticed how they had somehow gone dull and blank. A touch of contempt seeped from them as he bore his eyes into her. If he felt anything more, he did not show it.

His face had hardened like a statue. None of his feelings bled through, and his magic slipped away from her once more as he regained his full control over it. His aura had turned solid and hard like a shield. He had accepted his fate coldly, and she could no longer feel his emotions.

"It is done then. You may let go. Captain Dylan of the Teleen, you will forfeit your position and assume your place in Shade's entourage until the land of Faerie decides that you have fulfilled your oath."

Their hands dropped down to their sides. Dylan turned and walked back down toward Darren, stopping about a foot away. He turned his head and glared at his younger brother, who looked a lot like him. Dylan's cold eyes narrowed and burned with a tinge of hate. He reached out and cut the binds on his brother's wrists with a rough, uncaring jerk.

"Darren, this is the last time I ever save you. You're on your own now, for we're no longer brothers." He turned once more and disappeared into the thick murmuring crowd. Many gasps sounded out at his declaration. The ultimatum was unexpected, and had stunned Darren. He stood still, tilting his head down to avoid the looks from the crowd. His eyes squeezed shut as some tears formed in his lids. He whirled around suddenly and pushed his way across the crowd, shoving anyone who got in his way. Both men were gone in a matter of seconds, leaving Shade frozen beside the Queen.

Shade glanced down at her bloody palm. The cut had knitted itself closed and was now healed, leaving a light, pink-colored scar that was thin and tight. Finding her group awaiting her, Shade found Soap holding out a hand for her. Taking it, she felt relieved to see his smiling face as he helped her down from the dais. She joined her entourage and shuffled out of the grand room. She could finally breathe, even if it was just for a moment.

Chapter Nine

THE GROUP HUDDLED together near the glass bridge, silent and solemn. Their backpacks laid strewn about, reminding Shade of a summer camp she'd visited in the thick forests of California. People were still skittering about, stuffing packs with rations and supplies.

Shade sat on the ground with her own backpack already stuffed, since she'd never really had a chance to unpack before the attack. It sat balanced between her crisscrossed legs, ready to go. She held onto it as a child would a precious stuffed animal or blanket for comfort. It felt like the only thing in the world that really did belong to her. They had risen early the day after the trial to reassemble and continue on the rest of the journey. Shade felt almost fully healed, but her spirits remained dampened. Her head ached with everything that had happened to her. Taking comfort in her solitary spot, she watched the others frantically rushing around. At least Sary had retrieved her clothes, cell phone and charger from her old room. Shade had refused to enter it ever again. Her phone sat fully charged and put away, for there was no signal penetrating the deep stone cavern.

Her chestnut brown hair was pulled back into two thick, tight braids, making her look even younger than her seventeen years. She'd let Braelynn fuss over her this morning, even though she'd already pulled it back into a sloppy ponytail. The tight braids Braelynn had woven her hair into were intricate but restrictive. However, she could deal with it since it had made Braelynn feel so useful and motherly.

Soap came by and lingered before her. His tall figure seemed gigantic while she sat scrunched on the ground. His hair was also tied back, but lay in a simple half braid, with leather and beads streaming through it and shimmering under the torchlight. He was looking at her with his bright eyes, so deep in color in the dim light that they seemed to glow with their own light. "Hiya there, kid. You feelin' all right?" His voice twanged with a made-up southern drawl. He winked and tipped an imaginary hat to her.

She smiled up at him and nodded, not feeling quite as gloomy as before. He was definitely in a joking mood. "I'm okay. Maybe just a bit tired; I'm not sleeping so well since...." She laid her chin on her pack as she pulled it tighter against herself and closed her eyes.

Soap sat beside her on the ground and sighed as he watched the rest of the group tidying up. He turned toward her with his smile gone and his eyes immensely serious. "Are you having nightmares?"

She nodded and breathed in slowly. She closed her eyes, still leaning her head on her pack and arms. Sleep was definitely lacking, severely affected by her anxiety and paranoia throughout the night. Every creak, every rustle made her eyes fling open and her heart jump from her chest. She had resorted to sitting up in bed with a dagger in hand, just in case.

Shade wondered if she'd ever feel safe going to bed again.

"Well, let Braelynn and Sary know. I'm sure one of them can whip you up a dreamless sleep potion. It might help for the first few weeks. We're leaving in five minutes. Did you eat anything this morning?"

"Yes, I ate some toast and fruit. I wasn't too hungry, though." Opening her eyes, she sat up as she saw Dylan enter the area. His captain's uniform was gone, replaced with different leather and metal armor. It was probably his traveling armor. His helmet was also gone, but his sword was still strapped to his back. His brown tunic was soft under the leather and lacked any kind of ornamentation at all. Wrist sheaths were strapped securely on his upper arms and as he moved, they flashed slightly, revealing silver knives. He also had a sheath strapped to each thigh and his belt had pouches with more weapons laced throughout. He was well armed and carried a small pack strapped to his back. The long locks of hair he had previously possessed were now cut to a normal length for a human male. Shade wondered why he was sporting the short style, especially when he was the only faery man she'd met so far who didn't have long hair.

"I guess this means he's joining us now," Shade said with her voice lowered. "Soap, why did he chop his hair off? It was so long; did he have to cut it for the journey?"

Soap shook his head and leaned in toward her, his voice just above a whisper.

"No, Shade. The fey do it as a sign of mourning. He's probably in mourning for his brother, treating it like a death. It may also be because it's a sort of enslavement that he has to be with us. He might just be mourning his freedom and former life. Your guess is as good as mine." He jumped up to stand so fast, he appeared to have just floated up. He held out a hand to Shade again, smiling. "May I have this dance, oh ye fair maiden?"

"You know what? You're such a dork." She took his hand but gave him a playful whack when he started to dance, swinging her around in a circle. "Stop it already!" Shade smiled again, feeling him radiate calming warmth, too. Somehow, she just knew it was for her benefit that the fey did that. What they gave off in their magic was like happy juice to a moody teenager. It made her feel safe at least, and that's what she wanted most of all right now.

Dylan was watching them from across the way. His empty, blank stare made Shade shiver as her happy mood faded with his icy look. She couldn't blame him for being mad, but it really wasn't her fault he was stuck guarding her. He was going to have to just deal with it.

He started walking towards her and Soap. Holding her breath, Shade hoped he wasn't going to be a pain. Dylan stopped right in front of her, causing her to take a step back as he invaded her space. He seemed to know that it made her nervous to stand near any of the Teleen, even if they were shielded with glamour.

"Dylan of the Teleen clan reporting for duty, Miss Shade. What will you have of me today?" He stood still, so close to her she could feel his warm breath across her cheek. His steel eyes were smoldering. She was not sure if it was just his eyes or a twinge of hatred swimming in them.

"Nothing, Dylan, I...." She let her words trail off and shook her head. It took a moment or two for what she wanted to say to come out right. Straightening, she decided to go ahead and glare right back at him. "I'm not your master, boss or whatever. I didn't want this, so go do what you want, okay? I really don't care." Shade took another step back to dodge around him but stopped herself. "If it's any consolation, this was not my idea. Darren should've manned up and taken his punishment; though I do think death is an easy way out. If there's anything I can do to help you unbind us, you just go right ahead and let me know." He remained glaring at the ground with his jaw set hard. She sighed when he gave her nothing but silence as she swung her pack onto her back and walked away.

Jack motioned her over, as well as all the others. Everyone quickly finished their packing and circled around him. "Okay, everyone, we are way behind schedule. Today we anticipate to at least make it to the river lands. We will be near a large iron city, so once we approach, we must be very careful. We should stay near the rivers and be out of sight. If we are spotted, we might have to do memory charms on any humans that may be nearby. I would like to avoid that. You know how much fun that is," he said sarcastically.

"Oh, and we have two newcomers on our quest. Everyone welcome Dylan, former captain of the Teleen." His arm swung out toward Dylan, who stood just outside the circle, his arms crossed and his gaze at the ground. "Also, Miss Sylphi of the Teleen has so graciously volunteered to serve as a tracker. When our supply runs low, she can help us track down food around the Santiran fountains; there are no cities for miles. Please welcome them both with open arms."

He held his arm out to Sylphi, who came over and gave him an aggressive hug, clearly invading his space. He stumbled back a bit as he shifted his weight, but he did avoid losing his balance. She laughed and smiled, as though it was nothing to volunteer on a treacherous mission.

Shade glared at her. She hadn't forgotten how she friendly she'd been with Darren the night of the attack. Sylphi caught her glare and smiled sweetly to her, ignoring the look on Shade's face. I wouldn't trust her as far as I could throw her boney, pointy body, she thought.

"Everyone should be ready by now. Let's go!" Ewan's voice boomed in the cavern, echoing down the ravine. The group all swung packs onto their backs and sheathed the weapons they'd been cleaning. In about a minute, they were all crossing the great glass bridge. Shade held her breath as she walked across. Unfortunately, looking down made her stomach ache, so she avoided it at all costs. She'd be happy never to cross this blasted bridge again.

They journeyed through the same tunnels and large rooms they had first passed on the way in. Shade felt relief wash over her as she caught sight of the great doors. They creaked open and a stream of early morning sun beamed in and grew wider to meet them. Shade increased her pace and laughed when she felt the rush of the cool spring morning air. The sun was warm on her face, and the tension she'd been feeling seemed to be easing. Somehow, she knew she was not going to miss the Teleen Caverns.

Chapter Ten

THEY TRAVELED UP and around the base of one of the mountains, which were at the top of the caverns they had called home for a few days. The trail winded around lazily through a canyon made from a dry, dead river. The path was packed with flakey clay and crunched underfoot as they traversed through it. Rocks that had been smoothed by centuries of water littered the ground in different sizes. There were signs of drought as they walked along the riverbed. They spied dead bushes and wilted desert sage still holding on, though barely. The occasional scent of sage bushes and wildflowers permeated the air, but so did the slight odor of old, rotted vegetation mixed with dirt.

The sand got into everything; it clung to Shade's pants, shoes and gritted against her skin inside her sneakers and socks. She had to stop to empty the dust and gravel out of her shoes quite often. Most times she'd sit on the smooth boulders that were scattered along the path. The advantage of the canyon was that there were many shady areas blocking off the blaring sun and heat that intensified as the day wore on. The occasional desert lizard or jackrabbit darted across their paths. They shimmied their bodies into the cracks of earth beneath the stones or bushes. How could anything survive out there? It was mind-boggling. Water was scarce, and Shade was grateful she had some to enjoy.

The group stopped for a rest under a large overhang of striped red, white, and orange stone. It hovered over them like a massive giant, threatening to fall at any moment. Ewan assured her it would not fall because it was well-anchored and more under the ground than above. Shade sat at the edge of its shadow. She wanted to be ready in case she had to bolt to avoid being crushed alive.

She opened her pack and pulled out her canteen. She drank quickly, and the cool water felt refreshing as it tumbled down her throat. She'd have to thank Jack for the canteen. It refilled itself with the magical water and never ran dry.

Pulling out a bag of rations, she began munching on the nuts, dried jerky and flat bread. She immediately felt more alert and less tired. Glancing around, she noticed how the desert seemed to be transitioning into a more grassy and bushy area. Off in the distance, greenery weaved itself into the barren desert. It grew thicker and thicker the farther her eyes scanned. Great pines and coniferous trees shone small but bright in color, speckling the mountainsides. She wondered if they would be heading into that forest before nightfall.

Dylan parked himself at the edge of the shadows, too, but not close enough to be considered sitting with her. He had his head down, also stuffing bits of food into his mouth. He never spoke with anyone in the group. If he was angry or sad, it did not show. His antisocial behavior made her wonder what he was thinking.

It was tempting to inch closer to him and try to pry some information out of him. He didn't seem hostile, but he wasn't exactly welcoming either.

Sary, Braelynn, and Stephen were sitting together and chatting loudly. They were in good spirits and enjoying the outdoors. It seemed as if they had felt suffocated underground, too. They had told Shade that they drew their powers from the Earth and the elements. Outdoors, the sun, nature, and life replenished their strength, what stone could not do alone. The other men were sitting near each other, remaining somewhat quiet as they chomped on their rations. They chatted amongst themselves occasionally, laughing and nodding with full mouths. Their manners were a bit atrocious, and it made Shade giggle to herself. She was enjoying their company, and they were beginning to feel like a surrogate family.

Speaking of family, Shade's thoughts wandered to her mother and siblings. What were they doing right now? Had they forgotten her? She wondered how strong the memory charm Ilarial had used on her family had been. A sinking feeling in her stomach made tears sting her eyes. It's going to be okay, she told herself. Remembering the times they had all gone camping when she was younger and her father was still alive made her smile and savor the memories.

Camping had been a constant distraction from the everyday problems her family had faced. She would share her tent with her younger sister, Anna, who was three years younger and, most of the time, quite a pest. She enjoyed following Shade around like a puppy, which had annoyed Shade to no end. Anna would butt into Shade's stuff or activities all the time, messing with her Barbie dolls, kicking her arrangements over or even resorting to just stealing her toys or accessories. Shade hated it at the time, but now she'd give anything to have Anna bugging the crap out of her. Maybe she'd be sitting with her, sharing food, and drawing in the fine sand with a twig. Anna did have a great big imagination; she'd tell Shade the longest stories about her day at school or simply made some up. It always took hours to tell it just right. She'd love to hear an Anna story right now.

Taking a bite of jerky, she tried to distract her thoughts by concentrating on chewing the tough meat. It was suddenly lonely, though she knew her new friends would not let anything happen to her. She still longed to hear from her best friend Brisa, who could be counted on for a quick joke when things were bad. She pulled her cell phone out of her pack and stared at the reception bars. For one reason or another, they were nonexistent, even out here, above ground.

Tears broke through the tension on her lids and slid warmly down her cheeks as she stuffed the phone back into the pack. Pulling her knees up to her chin, she nuzzled into them, hiding her face.

This will not last forever, and soon I'll be home. She sniffled and pulled a soft washcloth from her pack, wiping her face and clearing her drippy nose, exhaling as she stuffed the cloth back into the pack. Jumping with a start, she realized Dylan had crouched down next to her and was now staring with his intense, steel-grey eyes. His face was alert and observing, as if waiting for some sort of word from her.

"What?" Her voice came out sharper than she'd meant it to, but she did not like him interrupting her melancholy memories.

"You're in distress."

She fought the urge to be a smart ass. "Really, you think so?" Shade snapped.

He smirked, settling down next to her, not waiting for an invitation. "Don't get angry; I only meant to help. I am bound with blood to serve you, aren't I? Well, if you're in distress, I can feel it now, and I have to try to fix it. I'm compelled to. It's part of the magic." Avoiding her glare, he studied the dirt with increased interest.

Shade gawked at him. His face froze as he retreated into his own memories while his hand sifted through the fine sand. Then he became so still, she could not see him even breathing. She waved her hand in front of his face, and he jerked out of his trance, shifting his eyes back to her. "Are you all right?" She asked.

"What do you care?" He asked coldly.

Shade pulled her gaze away first and back to the ground, smearing her tears away with the back of her hand. His words stung and put an ache in her chest. "I just thought that maybe, um, well I...oh, never mind." She pressed her lips together, shaking her head. It was useless to talk to Dylan; the walls he built around himself were too thick. She could almost feel them pressing up against her, palpable and frigid.

"Why don't you just go away?" She hissed at him, irritated. She began scooting away when he grabbed the sleeve of her hoodie. Looking up, she expected an angry glare but found an ocean of pain floating behind his eyes.

His mouth tensed with unexpected emotions, making her consider the seriousness of the situation. "I would, but I can't. Like a cord between us, it binds me to you. Where you go, I must then follow. If you go too far, I am compelled to search for you until I find you. If I try to run, I would freeze in my own steps and be made to turn back. I'm anything but free; I'm your slave. I intend to see this to its finality, and end it." He snickered then and let her go. "Till death do us part, Shade." He ripped off a bite of his jerky and chewed without looking back at her.

Shade didn't try to leave again. A tight knot had formed in her stomach, making her want to throw up what little she'd eaten. Nothing about this seemed right. She could feel the ties pressing down on Dylan. She didn't even like him and didn't believe he liked her either, for that matter. It was like having to choose the kid that no one ever picks for your team in gym class. You didn't want to do it, but you had to and it sucked.

"Alright, everyone, let's get going again. We have to make it to the Emerald Forest of the River Lands before nightfall. That's where we will stop for the night." Ewan motioned the group to follow as everyone jumped to their feet. Packs were slung back on and weapons were put away.

Shade followed suit, watching as Dylan re-strapped his sword sheath over his thin armor. He stretched his arms and legs as he stood, displaying well defined muscles that rippled in his arms. His golden-brown tan meant he had seen some sun, unlike the pale Teleen in the caverns. She wondered if the Teleen guards were the only ones that spent any time outside the caverns. The Queen had been so chalky-pale, Shade doubted she ever ventured out.

She had unanswered questions about the Teleen and wondered whom she could ask for answers. Glancing at Dylan, she pondered asking him but quickly decided against it. Dylan would be her last resort.

She jogged up to Sary, falling into step beside her. Stephen moved to the side when he spotted her, giving her a curt nod as she passed. He and Sary were always glued to each other's side. Shade flushed at the thought of them as lovers. Of the entire group, these two were the most inseparable.

"Hi, Shade! Everything all right?" Sary's sweet voice flowed from her cherry red lips. She was quite pretty, beautiful actually. It was no wonder she was royalty. Why she'd be out here in the middle of who knew where, getting all dirty, grimy and really sweaty, Shade would never know.

"Um, I was wondering about something."

"What are you wondering about?"

"Why I didn't get burned when Darren touched me. I wasn't electrocuted or burned. Jack told me I would be. Darren wasn't in glamour at all, and Jack and Soap said that if you touch a Teleen when they're not glamoured, you could get electrocuted or burned. Darren did seem surprised that I hadn't. He became frustrated when he realized that, but then I think he found it fascinating and intriguing." She heard her voice quiver as a lump began forming in her throat. She could see everything so clearly in her mind, as if it was happening all over again.

Sary's eyebrows furrowed as she thought about Shade's question. "Oh, Shade, I know it's hard for you to talk about that night. Honestly, I don't know the answer. You might want to ask Jack about it. He might know of some instances or possible reasons why Darren could not harm you. Somehow I think one of your powers is some sort of protection from the fire and lightning of the Teleen fey. I find it quite interesting."

Shade nodded and thanked Sary for her thoughts. Jack would be the one to ask about this. She'd meant to chat with him about the effects of Teleen powers on her for some time.

"Jack! Wait up!" They were on a hill, and the rocks stood jagged on the trail. She slowed her pace to maneuver around the razor edges of stone until she was right behind him.

"Hey there, what can I do for you?" Jack's cheerful mood was infectious.

She matched his pace but could not walk beside him with the trail narrowing and twisting around the large, rough boulders. Keeping an eye on the shifting dirt underneath, she continued. "I've been meaning to ask you some things."

"Go for it." He pulled himself up a steep part of the trail and turned to help Shade over the hump.

"Thanks. I was wondering, when Darren attacked me, he let his glamour fall away as he touched me. Why didn't I burn or get electrocuted like you said I would?"

Jack stopped cold and turned toward her. Horror flashed across his face, his eyes growing dark with shock. "What? Are you sure he let his glamour slide? No, it would have killed you. There's no way you would've survived." He narrowed his eyes at her, studying her face for something unknown to her. "Are you sure you're remembering right? You don't think that when you hit your head, you might've thought he let his shields down?"

Shade shook her head; there was no way she was remembering wrong. "No, I know what I saw. He let his glamour melt away as he held onto me, while he was on fire. His skin burned with bright blue flames that lit the entire room, flowing over his skin, like sparking electricity. I remember it as clearly as I see you now."

"I know what you're saying, Shade; I'm not doubting you, but it's just that it's not possible. I don't know what to tell you. I've never heard of anyone, especially a Halfling, surviving a full-blown Teleen touch. That's exactly why our race is dying." He grunted, half sliding down a boulder.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," He wiped the sweat on his brow, taking in a deep breath as he rested. "We...we can't breed outside our own race. It would be fatal to get close enough to anyone other than a Teleen." Jack pressed his lips into a thin, hard line as he started walking again. His face remained pensive.

"But Jack, isn't Soap a Teleen halfling? You're saying it's not possible, but he's evidence against that, isn't he?" Shade hurried to keep up with Jack, for his step had quickened.

Soap, who'd been walking ahead of them, paused and followed them with great interest.

"Soap is also part changeling. Changelings can 'change' into a Teleen if they want to. I think that's one of only a few ways pairing outside our race could be possible. Changelings are all, but extinct, though. We don't even know who his parents were. To find a changeling to mate with would be like hitting the lottery for a Teleen-born; it just doesn't happen. The chances are so slim. Only those with fire affinities could ever pair with one of us. Wait, maybe...." He stopped again and was really staring at her now. Shade stopped too, suddenly feeling the weight of his stare, like she was under a microscope. "You're not a changeling, Shade. Are you?"

"No, well, not that I know of," Shade stammered.

"Have any fire magic?"

"No, sorry. I can't change into anything, or start any kind of fire. I'd think I would know if I could." Her voice cracked, leaving her suddenly unsure about anything. She was part faery, but she didn't know what type of faery.

Me, a changeling? That's highly doubtful, Shade thought. It was already unnerving to think she was anything more than human.

Jack shook his head before looking at her again. His friendly smile was beginning to light up his face once more. "Nah, I don't think you're a changeling, Shade. I know all this sounds really strange, and I wish I could help you more, but I've never come across something like this before. If I ever find out anything about it, you'll be the first to know, okay?"

Shade nodded as he patted her back and turned to walk down another narrow and rocky hill. Shade sighed. She wasn't sure if she knew anything more than she had before.

Chapter Eleven

SHADE SAT ON a large, smooth rock near her tent, proud that she had erected it all by herself. The cool breeze rippled the nylon violently, but it held. She'd staked it down well, just like her father had shown her. She'd had lots of practice staking down tents for herself and her sister. Every time they went camping, she was in charge of tent setup. Remembering how much she had loathed it made her chuckle. She thanked her lucky stars that her father had pounded the basics of camping and surviving in the wild into her, just in case. She doubted he had ever considered how useful the knowledge would be on a perilous faery journey.

Dinner was cooking atop a blazing fire. There was a fox roasting over it which Than had skinned, gutted and staked to a spit. It turned round and round over the flames, giving off a pleasant but smoky aroma. It looked like he'd done this many times before. The fox was a good size, nice and plump, and would feed them all. She wished she could take a shower, but that wasn't going to happen out here. Once again, she was covered in dirt, and a film of her salty sweat stuck to her skin. She was sure it would never come off.

The air was cooling rapidly as the sun sank over the mountains. Shivering, she rubbed her arms to warm them. She'd traded her hoodie for a jacket but wished she had brought a thicker one. She felt somewhat unprepared for the cold nights, even after layering her clothes and wearing a thicker sweater. Unfortunately, the extra clothes were not working too well at guarding her from the cold.

Dylan plopped down next to her, disturbing her thoughts before draping a large, thick, fur-lined blanket over her shoulders. She jumped up, letting the blanket spill off her into a cascading heap. Dylan grabbed it just before it hit the ground.

"What are you doing?" Shade glared at him, her face flushed with anger. It wasn't nice to intrude on her space, and she was through tolerating it.

He held his free hand up, smirking a little at the same time. "The polite thing to say is thank you. I'm not sure what humans are accustomed to, but when someone gives you a blanket to keep warm in the cold, our kind is grateful. But who am I to say so? I might be wrong to think that way," he added sarcastically.

"You're a prick, Dylan, you know that? I can see it's in your blood, by the way. Just stay away from me. You and your brother can just go to hell!" Shade stood there staring at him, her breath steaming in the cool air as her words came out in a huff. The night pushed hard against the remnants of the day, making her feel suddenly over exposed. Dylan remained calm while he watched her. He lifted the blanket up to her once more. His smirk had smoothed out, and the former captain's face fell flat and unreadable. His eyes did give away some feeling; there seemed to be a spark in them that showed he was amused by her reaction.

"Shade, just take the blanket, okay? It's cold out," he muttered. "I'm not really affected by the cold, but, being that you're mortal...." He looked like he was working hard to suppress a smile. "Well, I packed for two. I knew you'd need help out here." His smile returned as he continued. "Really, it's a warm blanket. Think of it as a peace offering." Standing up when she did not go to him, he moved closer until he was in her face, almost touching. He swung the blanket around and draped it over her shoulders. Shade stiffened but let him place the blanket on her, and she held onto it this time, unsure of what to do. He nodded, looking satisfied before turning to walk away.

"Dylan, wait," Shade choked out. Her voice was tight in her throat. She turned to look at him as he stopped in his tracks. He didn't turn around but paused, waiting. "I... I'm sorry, Dylan. I feel like you don't like me, but you don't even know me. Maybe that reminds me of Darren a bit, and that freaks me out. You two are pretty similar, but I know you aren't like him. I know that... I can feel it. I...." She sighed, frustrated with her stumbling tongue. "Thanks for the blanket. I do appreciate it."

"You're welcome, Shade," he answered with a little more warmth than he had ever shown before.

She glanced around and noticed the others working on their own tents. Jack had one, and so did Ewan. Sary and Braelynn looked like they were sharing, and so were Stephen and Than. Shade thought that maybe some of the group were probably pairing up because they didn't have enough tents. Soap had his own tent, and unless they were sharing, it was unclear where Dylan was going to sleep.

"Don't you have a tent, Dylan?"

"I do, but I find it really confining. Besides, I have to stay by you, and there isn't enough room for another tent here. The ground is my bed tonight." He tilted his head slightly, one eye watching her intently.

"Why do you have to camp by me? Do you really have to?"

"No," he stated simply.

"Then why are you hovering? I feel like you're suffocating me."

"No, I wouldn't ever do that. I'd never hurt you!" He had whirled back around, his face now serious and his eyes wide. He'd taken her words at face value.

"Whoa, I don't mean literally! It's like an expression." Relieved as he relaxed, she sighed. "Look, you don't have to be stuck to me like glue. I'm not an invalid, and you're not my bodyguard. Get this straight: I do like my space." She'd lost her patience with him and headed off, with the blanket still wrapped around her, toward the smoking carcass that was dinner.

*****

DINNER HAD BEEN satisfying. The fox had tasted amazing, or maybe it was just because Shade had been starving. It had been such a long hike that day, her muscles ached and burned intensely. She had never felt so hungry before, and now, so tired. Sitting on a fallen log by the main campfire, she watched the flames lick the twigs and branches smoldering with soot. Ashes littered the ground around the fire as it flickered and crackled. The heat felt comforting, forcing the chill of the evening away.

It felt cozy in the blanket Dylan had provided, making her feel just a tad bit guilty for snapping at him, especially since his gift had turned out to be so useful. Okay, I'll try to be nicer to Dylan. This isn't his fault. She hadn't meant to snap at Dylan, but everything was really overwhelming her. She'd been attacked twice in less than a week. It was hard enough for her to keep up with everyone in the group physically; her lack of appreciation for outdoor activities didn't help. Taking a deep breath, she knew these were the least of her problems.

Dad... isn't my real dad, she thought sadly. It was difficult to accept. She wasn't glad he was dead, but she was relieved he would never have to know this. How would she deal with it? To make matters worse, she was bound to Dylan, sharing some kind of mutant blood bind connecting her to him, and to Darren in some weird sadistic way, too. Dylan's blood is Darren's blood.... She cringed at the thought.

Her life was not turning out quite as she had planned. She was supposed to be in high school, cramming for finals and graduating in three weeks. This was not supposed to happen, and she missed Brisa so much. Who else could tell so many jokes, especially around a warm campfire on a freezing night? She wished Brisa had somehow been pulled into this mess, so at least Shade would not be alone right now. Even with her new friends surrounding her and their happy chatter floating about the fire, she felt the loneliness creep in again.

Sary walked over and sat next to her on the log. She winked at Shade and then settled her gaze on the fire. The silence between them was thick; Shade could sense she was aching to ask her something. She wondered what it could possibly be. Sary was quiet for the most part, unless she was with Stephen. Shade had seen how she stared dreamily into his eyes whenever they were talking. His face was a mirror of hers; their devotion radiated around them like some protective, blissful bubble. Shade couldn't help but feel a little envious of their bond.

Shaking the thoughts away, she scolded herself. She wasn't the type to get jealous. She was actually quite happy being the responsible older sister in a single parent home of four kids. It gave her tons of freedom to do whatever she wanted to, and she felt like she was the other adult in the house. She had no time for boys; they just mucked things up, anyway.

Her thoughts wandered to her mother, Jade. She had shoulder length hair a nice shade of brown, with caramel highlights streaked throughout it. It was wavy and never wanted to stay where she'd like it. She was happy just running her hands through and did not fuss much with it. Her big, brown eyes were interesting, too. They had a glint of grey and honey running through both of her irises. The hazel coloring in her eyes definitely stood out with only a touch of makeup on her olive skin. Shade was glad she took after her mother; she'd always seen her mother as a beautiful woman.

"Shade?" Sary's voice gently broke into her thoughts.

"Yes, Sary?"

Sary paused for a moment, studying Shade's face before speaking. "When this is over, will you return to Faerie at all? Or will you want to forget this all happened? I wonder because, you see... I can feel your reluctance even now about completing this task. I know it's a hard thing to ask of you, being that our world is so alien." She sighed nervously before continuing. "But we need you more than you could possibly perceive or understand. I can't even imagine what you think of all this, especially after everything that's happened so far."

Shade felt anxious and slightly guilty because she'd been so caught up in herself and hadn't thought about the rest of the group. She hoped she hadn't seemed too antisocial tonight; maybe it had an adverse effect on them. She let her eyes linger on the fire, thinking hard on how to answer Sary. It was so difficult to predict the future; she never thought this would be happening to her. She searched for the right thing to say.

"Sary, I hope you don't feel like I could just say goodbye and be done with everyone so easily. You've helped me so much already. I have to admit that this new world is confusing to me. It scares me to death, and I don't feel like I belong here. I don't have the strength or the right training for this. Everyone has said I have magic in me, but I don't know how to use it. How could I ever survive in your world? I just feel terribly vulnerable. I would love to visit you guys when this is all done, but I don't think I could live here.

Sary was staring at Shade, an amused look dancing on her face. She started laughing so hard she almost fell off the log.

"What's so funny?" Shade asked, annoyed at her reaction. She was definitely confused. What the hell could be so funny about what she had said?

Sary stopped and shook her head as she cleared her throat. "I'm so sorry, Shade. I don't mean to insult you. I just never thought of our world as that different. It's nice to get an outsider's view. You're right; how inconsiderate of me. Of course you don't feel safe. Ilarial did tell us that it was our job to show you how to use your magic. You have more in you than you think you do. I am still baffled on how you managed to trap Darren in the mirror shards; he was bloody mad about it. I can't say he didn't deserve it though. He deserved that glass prison and more for what he did to you." She paused, looking a bit more serious. "So how would you like your first official magic lesson?" She grinned, her eyes twinkling in the firelight.

"Oh, I don't know, Sary. I'm kinda tired and was about to go to bed. Maybe tomorrow?"

"No, no, right now. I promise it'll be a short one." She watched Shade squirm uncomfortably. "How 'bout it?" she pushed.

Shade pressed her lips tight in frustration. There's no sense in fighting it, she admitted. "Ok."

Sary jumped up and clapped her hands; and her vibrant enthusiasm cheered Shade up. "Okay then, pick up any stone-really it can be any one that you find. Come on Shade, just pick the first one that catches your eye," Sary repeated when Shade hesitated.

Shade groaned but bent down from the log to study the ground. Searching the particles around her, she looked at each possible stone, but none seemed to stand out. Sitting up, she shook her head slightly, about to complain that she couldn't find one, when a glint of rock flashed in the corner of her eye. She reached out toward the edge of the log and retrieved it. The grey and white stone looked slightly out place among the other white ones imbedded in the sand. Dusting it on her jeans, she placed it in the middle of her palm. "Like this one?"

"Yes, perfect! Now, take your stone and place your other hand over it. You have enough power within you; I can feel it radiating off of you like a fire." Sary waved her hand at her to make her go faster.

Shade protested but did what she was told. Her hands felt cold in the night air, and the stone was cool in the center of her warm palms. About to give up, she stopped, feeling it get warmer on her skin. She opened her hands, her eyes widening with amazement.

The rock was glowing with a dim yellow hue. The heat was radiating to her fingers from it, feeling as if it should have burned her, but it didn't. Shocked, she dropped it and cradled her hands on her chest. The sand puffed up around it like a meteorite landing. The stone lost its glow until it sat still and dusty once more. She peered up at Sary, who appeared pleasantly surprised.

"Wow, that was faster than I thought it would be. You just made your first light stone! You can make your own light with it and keep your hands warm too. It won't burn you, if that's what you are thinking. This comes in handy on a dark and cold winter's night," she said with smile. Bending down, she plucked the rock out of the gravel, holding it out to Shade.

"It's ok, Shade, take it; it will only glow when you want it to. Remember, to activate it again, put it between your hands once more. It belongs to you and only you now, so keep it near." She gave her a quick hug as Shade took it and stuffed it into her jeans. It was small and did not bulge out too much. "Good job! I'll let you get to your sweet dreams now." Sary jumped up and joined Stephen, who was calling out to her. They walked away from the fire and over to their tents, chatting quietly.

Shade let out a nervous breath. She'd been taken by surprise with the light stone, but she liked the idea of it. She fished through her pocket and brought the stone out once more. Reactivating it, it burned brighter this time in her palms and warmed her chilly fingers.

Staring at it for a moment before stuffing it back in its place, she rose and walked back to her tent.

Maybe, just maybe... I can do this after all.

Chapter Twelve

THE MURMUR OF voices amplified in the growing light of the morning. Shade moaned and wished she'd thought of bringing earplugs. Rolling over, she stuffed her pillow over her head, hoping to muffle the noise. It can't be morning already! It felt like she had just laid her head against her pillow and closed her eyes. Hiking was definitely not on her cool list right now. Her muscles ached and burned.

"Shade, get up, we have to pack and get going. I brought you breakfast, you're going to need it." Shade felt her pillow fly off her face. Dylan stood crouched at the entrance of her tent, his lips tight with disapproval. He looked wide-awake, making her wonder how long he'd been up. Was it possible he didn't need to sleep? He motioned to a plate of food and drink lying by her. In an instant, he was gone.

Shade blinked and rubbed her eyes. Stuffing the pillow under her neck, groaning and wanting more sleep, disappointment ran through her mind. Sleep was a pleasure of the past now, something she couldn't quite remember having enough of. She glanced at the food he had brought; bacon and fresh scrambled eggs with a bread roll were still steaming. It looked amazing and smelled even better.

This coaxed her out of her warm bed as she pulled the food and drink toward her. Inhaling the savory aromas, she was amazed at how hungry she was. Slurping down the sweet, warm tea that Dylan had provided made her instantly feel more alert. She wondered what was in that drink; it was always so revitalizing. She'd have to ask someone. Besides, it was curious how they had managed to have bacon and eggs so fresh out here in the wild. Munching on the rich, thick slices of bacon, she enjoyed every bit.

Well, this is my one pleasure out here in this hellhole. Shade sighed, frowning at her empty plate, the food was gone much too fast. Good things just do not last around here. She stretched and fumbled through her bag, and pulled her brush, washcloth and towel out, hoping there was somewhere to wash up. She yanked on her shoes then wrapped the blanket around her like a cape.

Stepping out into the cold morning air was like being electrocuted. It stung her cheeks and sent a thrill down her body. Yaay, winter weather. She wondered how it seemed to be a different season every place they went in the faery lands. It didn't seem possible it was spring back home.

Walking up toward the main fire, she looked around. She wanted to find and ask Braelynn or Sary where she could wash up, but Soap popped up in front of her instead. He grinned at her, showing off his pearly white teeth. "Where do you think you're sneaking off to, young lady?"

Shade froze in her tracks, her face flushing and feeling guilty without reason to. Tilting her head, she gazed back upon his still smiling but suspicious face.

"I'm not sneaking off anywhere; I just want to get cleaned up. You wouldn't happen to know where I could, um, go to uh, freshen up?" Her face flushed up scarlet once more under the cold air. Soap wasn't the one she'd wanted to ask.

"It's down that side of the hill a bit. It's a large red tent. Girls on the right, boys to the left." He winked, spun and trotted back to the camp. Shade gaped at him as he walked--no, skipped--away cheerfully. She shook her head. She couldn't get over how strange he was. They hadn't spoken much since they had arrived at the Teleen caverns, making her wonder if he was just being cautious with her, since it had been a Teleen who had attacked her. It was something she'd have to talk to him about later.

She turned back in the direction he had pointed her, gripping her supplies. Approaching the bathroom tent made her stop in confusion. It didn't look like anything special; the flaps were wind-worn and faded. She wondered how it was even big enough to hold two dressing rooms, let alone anything close to a washroom. She shrugged, too tired to contemplate it for long, and willed herself to get moving.

Inside, she was shocked at how warm and humid it was. The scent of flowers blooming in the springtime permeated the air, and the tent was definitely much bigger than it appeared on the outside. It even had a foyer with a table and hanging mirror. To the right of the wooden table hung a red curtain, and beside it a blue curtain. She supposed the colors were to separate the women and men.

Heading through the red drapery, assuming it was for women, she followed the hallway as it turned toward the left. At the end it turned again to the right and opened onto a large room filled with mirrors on one side. On the other side were stalls with toilets and two showers next to them.

This reminds me of camp, only better. Shade was impressed but not curious enough to wonder for long how it was all possible; she was just grateful it was here. She laid her stuff on one of the chairs and pulled it near one of the shower stalls. She was definitely surprised to find actual flushing toilets in the stalls. Really, I can't believe the faeries have all this. She just shook her head in disbelief and undressed, stepping into a shower stall. Soap, shampoo and conditioner were provided, and she was thankful the water was hot. The steaming spray felt exhilarating on her skin and eased her aches. All too soon, she stepped out of the stall, dried her body and hair, and pulled on her fresh clothes. Running the brush through her tangled hair, she gritted her teeth then pulled it back into a tight ponytail.

Her reflection stared back at her from the mirror. For the first time since the attack, she saw her face. It made her suck in her breath. Her face was covered with small, healing pink lines, like spider webs, all across her right cheek. She looked down at her arms where she saw more of the same thin scars. They're all over me.... Tracing them with her fingers, she found them smooth and a soft pink, nearly invisible to anyone who wasn't really looking.

She studied the mirror for a bit longer to make sure it didn't ripple or look magical in any way. A shudder ran through her as she did her best not to be reminded of Darren. Turning away when she was satisfied it was just a normal mirror, she gathered her things and grabbed the blanket Dylan had given to her the night before. She wrapped it around herself, realizing she was in dire need of a coat. The weather here is so annoying. She didn't want to think about the scars, at least not yet. In a way, the blanket served like armor, covering them up and hiding her skin away. For that, she was grateful. Bundling up her old clothes in the towel, she turned to leave and ran right into Sylphi. Shade gasped, stumbling back with her eyes wide, regaining her balance.

"I'm so sorry, Shade, did I frighten you?" Sylphi sneered slightly, studying Shade with inky black eyes. Her dark hair was down and a bit tousled, like she had just rolled out of bed. However, it still managed to have some shine. She also held a bundle of clothes and a towel in her arms, pressed to her chest.

Shade gave a small, nervous laugh. "Oh... hello, Sylphi. No, well, maybe just a little. How long were you standing there?" She tried to swallow her anxiety and stand a bit straighter. Nothing about Sylphi made her feel warm and fuzzy. The girl radiated iciness like an open window in the late winter.

"Not for too long, really; I was just going to freshen up." She smiled her sickly, sweet smile, batting her eyelashes innocently. Her eyes were so dark, it was like staring into a pair of black holes. She continued to stare at Shade with her intensely black eyes and didn't make a move to get out of the way. A chill ran through Shade, but she pressed her lips tight, attempting to smile back at the faery. The sight of her was unnerving to say the least. "Well, ok, I was just leaving. See you later." She had to side step a bit to get around Sylphi, who was still not budging from her spot.

"Why don't you just go home, Shade? No one really wants you here."

Shade hung in mid step as she listened to Sylphi's icy voice. The woman was still not moving but slyly snickering. "You're too weak for this quest. Why don't you give up before you fail miserably? No one wants to be out here in this forsaken wilderness with you anyway. Do us a favor and quit already, half-breed." Sylphi hissed through her teeth, a menacing twinkle lingering in her gaze.

Well, heard that one before...

Shade glared at her in disgust. Shaking her head, Shade sneered right back. "I'm not a quitter, Sylphi. I need to do this, and nothing you say will change my mind. I don't believe you have to be here, though. You came by choice, remember? So did I... maybe you should go home." She dodged Sylphi and stepped hurriedly through the doorway, ignoring Sylphi's snide laughter.

I wonder what the hell her problem is.

The cold air slapped her hard once she left the facilities tent, and her hair felt instantly frozen. She didn't stop, though; she hurried as fast as she could to her own tent, or what should've been her tent. All she found was Dylan sitting on the ground, patiently waiting next to her pack.

"What the...? Where's my stuff? What'd you do with my things?" Shade felt her anger tipping the scales and tried to grab a handle on it before hollering at him. She breathed in slowly and deeply, averting her glare away from him. It wasn't his fault that Sylphi had such a strange effect on her; she felt discombobulated. Her breath steamed like clouds floating out her nose and mouth.

He rolled his eyes almost as impatiently as she had jumped on him.

"Well, Dylan?"

"Ok, calm down. I, so graciously, put away your things for you, since you were taking so long in the bath. We're leaving in just a few minutes, by the way." He stood up and held out her pack, dangling it from his fingers.

She snatched it from him with her free hand, biting her lip as he walked off to the main camp without another word. She sighed, realizing she hadn't even bothered to thank him. Why did it seem they clashed over everything? If they were going to be forced to spend so much time together, this would definitely have to stop. Kneeling down, she opened her pack and pulled out a sack for her dirty clothes. She stuffed them in and shoved it back into the pack.

This will just have to do until we reach the river. The clothes had a slight odor and they needed a wash badly. Shade marched down the path to the main camp, joining the rest of the group. Ewan was already waving his arm around to capture everyone's attention as she chose a large boulder to sit on and rubbed her sleepy eyes. It's already been a long day, and it's only the butt crack of dawn.

"Alright, is everybody present? Soap, Jack, Braelynn," the brawny man glanced about, squinting his eyes at the group. "Where's Sylphi?" Heads whirled around and searched the group.

"I just saw her in the bath tent. She's probably still there," Shade muttered.

"I'm right here." Sylphi stepped out from behind a tree and smiled at the group. Her hair was dried and slicked back into an even tighter ponytail than Shade's. She looked radiant in the morning sun, all dressed in white furs with her pack strapped to her back. She waved at Shade, a sly smirk on her face. Shade frowned back, but not as confidently. She wondered how Sylphi had bathed, dried, clothed herself, packed and made it to the group so fast. It's probably a fey thing.

"Alright, that should be everyone. We are heading to the great rivers. We will be getting wet, by the way. Shade, see Braelynn for water repellant charms so your stuff doesn't get soaked," he added as a side note, and then continued on. "We will be camping in the middle of the river lands. It's made up of seven rivers that wind, turn, and meet together at the Pacific Ocean. The rivers are pure Faerie territory, close to human towns. There is to be no wandering across the borders, because the iron cites are too close to us along the coast.

He held up a large piece of parchment with a drawing of the rivers. They were vivid blue lines that twisted and curved around the vast green areas on the map. He pointed out the boundaries and again warned of the dangers of wandering too near a human city. Shade stared at the map, utterly confused. It looked so unfamiliar. If her sense of direction was right, they had to be near the coasts of California and Oregon. She didn't recall seeing such a tangle of large rivers there before. This revelation had her waving down Ewan.

"Those rivers are not on ordinary maps. You said it is purely faery territory? Does that mean that the river lands are hidden from humans?"

Ewan nodded, smiling at her curiosity. "Why yes, Shade, aren't you just sharp as a knife this morning. Yep, human maps look quite different from faery maps, but we have the real world maps. Mortal's maps are only splices of the actual world. They don't know it, but there are vast areas of fey lands that are protected by enchantments and wards. So in essence, the land looks a lot smaller to them than it is." Ewan continued on, letting his finger trace along the borders on the paper. He then quickly rolled up the scroll map, ordering everyone to prepare to leave.

The desert wasteland twisted and blended into the lush forest of emerald green leaves and bushes. The land was riper and more fertile here, almost an artificially vibrant green. No matter which trail they took, Shade could hear rushing water in the distance. It surrounded them like endless background noise. The river lands were strange; there were islands between some rivers where they intersected and weaved together like a tangle of noodles. Then there would be long stretches of land that didn't run into a river at all. Some of the islands sported bridges, while with others had none, forcing the group to wade through each river carefully. Even with the waterproof charm which Braelynn and Sary had placed on everyone and their items, Shade couldn't help but feel the cold embrace of the water stealing the warmth from her body. It flowed around her thighs and the icy cold still seeped through her clothes.

She was left stiff from the frigid waters. With the charms, she did not feel wet, but felt quite dry, even though her teeth chattered and her body shook from the chill. It was a relief to emerge from the cold, wet trek through a river. Once out of the water, the sun warmed her immediately. Her stiff, frozen clothes stuck to her, remnants of a watery grave.

After about four of these submersions, she was ready to smack Ewan. Did they really have to walk through all that cold, muddy and swirling water so much? Her love of the outdoors, what little she did have, was washing away with each turbulent wave of river water.

Once they stopped to rest, eat, and do their best to warm up, Shade pulled the warm blanket Dylan had given her from her pack and wrapped it tightly around her body. Turning her head up to the sun, she soaked up its comforting rays. It felt amazing, like hot cocoa warming the core after playing in the snow and getting frostbite on your toes and fingers. She closed her eyes, not wanting to move. She felt frozen down to her inner marrow, and her lips were chapped and surely a sickly shade of blue after spending most of the day in the water.

"Hey, drink some hot tea. It will warm your soul." Dylan handed her a steaming cup, his own secured in his other hand.

"Thanks, Dylan." Shade happily accepted it, wrapping her fingers around the warmth of the drink, soothing her stiff joints. She drank it down in a gulp. The hot fluid felt great against her throat, warming her from the inside out. Still huddled in the blanket, she was afraid to break her cozy cocoon if she dared to move.

"Tired of the rapids, huh? They get old really fast, don't they?" Dylan asked, attempting to sound friendly. "I don't miss crossing them at all. You would think some idiot would've put a bridge or something on every river here by now. But faeries are lazy, you know. They'd rather fly right over these banks any day. Of course we aren't all able to fly, let alone carry anyone else with us," he said with a sigh. "So we have to do it the tried and true way, on foot. I think it's because us faeries don't like to disturb nature too much, so progress is limited." He chuckled, shaking his head as he took another large sip of tea.

He was sitting next to her now, their sides slightly touching, she could feel his body heat closing the gap between them. Shade turned to watch him more closely. His unusual, steel-colored eyes glinted in the bright sunlight. The deeper they ventured into the wilderness, the more relaxed he appeared. His face had grown softer and younger in the light of the afternoon. She wondered if nature gave off some kind of natural Xanax to the fey. Everyone seemed more at ease, maybe just a touch tired, but no one was complaining. She guessed that it was better than having a group of grumpy, pissed-off faeries. Who knew what they were all capable of doing if pushed too far?

Dylan's hair was still short, but growing faster than a human's hair would. It was dark and shiny, with silver highlights peppered throughout. He had shaved that morning and his skin still shone smooth, with no lines to betray his age. She wondered how old he was, remembering that Ilarial had mentioned how they were immortal. Besides Soap, no one had volunteered to say how old he or she really was.

"Dylan? Can I ask you something?" He turned toward her, eyes wide with surprise. She should probably speak to him softly more often because it was nice to see him shocked.

"Yes, of course. Go for it." He placed his cup on the dirt in front of him and sat Indian-style, his arms relaxed on his thighs.

"How old are you? How long do faeries live?" She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs, clinging to the blanket and keeping it shut.

"I'm two-hundred and forty-six years old. My brother Darren is only one-hundred and fifteen. We're immortal, but only to a certain extent. The fey are kind of delicate in a way, more so than humans. We can wither away, if we choose. We barely exist on the little strength that human hearts give us. Imagination and strong belief in us keep us going; your world is fragile when it comes to this matter. It's almost like a human curse. We are tied to mortals in more ways than one." Dylan paused. He glanced at Shade but quickly turned back to stare down at his cup as he continued.

"When we wither, we choose to leave this world. Our mother was five-hundred and three when she decided she no longer had it in her to carry on, allowing herself to wither into dust. It only took two days. Just two days and slowly, what was a strong, bold, and amazing woman turned into dust and ash," he said with a hint of emotion leaking through his cracking voice. "Life is not easy for the fey. The exiles wither faster because of the toxicity of living in or near the iron cities. Smaller faeries go faster, too. We have stronger clans, like the Guildrin Clan, and our enemies, the Unseelie are much stronger than our group of Teleen. Our sized faeries are the closest to humans in appearance. My people, the Teleen, are more fragile, dying off as time goes on. Very slowly, of course. There are not many Teleen born each year, so our numbers have dwindled as some of us die. If the world was stronger, and the magic in Faerie was not so faded, we could be true immortals and live forever."

"Why is your clan dying? I would think you would be the strongest since humans have a lot of iron in their blood. It would be hard for any fey to live near us or among us, but you guys are fine with it."

Dylan was staring back at her now. His eyes narrowed, amused as he thought about what she was asking and saying. He licked his lips and looked back over the river. The constant roar seemed to fill the silence between them like an unwanted third wheel. Shade waited impatiently for his answers. She stared at the river while she waited for him talk to her. At least I beat the rivers, she thought, knowing she'd bested the icy waters today and had nothing to prove.

"Well, it has a lot to do with there not being many mated pairs in our clan. Teleen females are rarely born to our clan now, and those who are get paired off quickly and stay together for life. If you're not paired with one, as a male, you are out of luck. That is, unless a free Teleen faery woman shows up out of nowhere," he said quietly as if he didn't think that was possible. "What's bothering you, Shade?" Dylan's deep voice was more like a harsh whisper. He was even leaning a little toward her to muffle his voice so no one else could hear.

"I don't know. It's just that compared to all of you guys, I'm so weak, Even though you say you have vulnerabilities, you are still more powerful than me. I don't know how to do magic or any kind of fighting. Without you guys here, I would be useless... helpless." Shade took a deep breath before continuing. "It's all so intriguing, but it scares me so much. There are so many things I don't know. I'm as good as dead out here against other fey.

"Ilarial told me to learn, but how do I learn? I don't know a thing about fighting or handling a sword or knife." She sighed, closing her eyes as she cradled her head on her knees, tears prickling behind her eyelids. She thought back to about what he'd said about not being paired with a female Teleen. She wondered if he had been paired or not, and if he had, where was his mate?

Dylan watched her thoughtfully. He nodded as though agreeing with her. His eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment as he was in deep thought.

Shade wondered what it could be that he was thinking.

"I must train you, then. You're right; you are weak without any kind of protection. If you were to be separated from us... well, I don't want to think about it. You have a sword, right?" She nodded, thinking about the beautiful sword in her pack Ilarial had given her. "Great. Then we train today." He stood, offering her a hand. "Grab your sword; I'll teach you a move or two."

Surprised, she took his hand, standing up and fumbling through her pack for the sword. Finding it, she waited, holding it slack in her hand.

"Alright, you need to stand ready; the easiest thing to do is to stand with your feet apart, knees bent. You can put one foot forward a bit. That's right. You need to keep your body balanced, so you can move any which way during an attack." He moved to stand next to her, his body facing her side. Reaching out, he adjusted her arms to put both hands on the hilt of the sword, bringing her elbows to a bend. He tugged and pushed at her limbs, making her almost fall over as he adjusted her legs. Coming behind her, he placed his hands on her hips and back, pushing again to make her straighten up her poor posture while still bending her knees. Her thighs screamed in protest.

"You need to relax, I'm not going to bite." He snickered. Shade frowned but tried to do as he told her. "There. See? Flexed, ready to pounce."

Shade nodded, feeling nervous at his proximity but excited at learning something about using a sword.

"Now, I want you to do this exercise: step forward, then back, then side to side, holding the sword opposite the direction you head, like a dance, counterbalancing each other, like partners." His voice was just above a whisper, near her face. It sent a thrill down her spine.

"Wh-what?"

Dylan groaned, motioning to her to give up the sword. She did and watched him as he showed her what he meant. His movements were fluid and well-practiced. She gulped, hoping she could look more like he did and less like a clumsy ogre.

"See? A dance. Practice it." He handed the sword back and stepped back to give her some room.

"That's it?" she stammered.

"That's it."

Shade felt slightly disappointed but didn't push him any further. Learning that "dance" would be plenty for now. "Okay, I can do this. Oh, Dylan?"

"Yes?"

"Were you paired off at birth?" She risked a peek at his face as she attempted her first move to the left.

"No, I was never paired at birth. But, our oracle, who's about eight-hundred years old, did tell me a prophecy about it." He sighed and stared out across the river.

"What'd she say?"

"She said that I'd meet my mate one day, one who'd never resided among us, and that my life would change forever. It'd be filled with great and challenging events, some unfortunate and some amazing."

"Really? So, did you meet her yet?" Shade watched his face, calm and handsome. She found him intriguing in a way she could not explain. And to think just hours ago, he was getting on her last nerve.

Dylan turned toward her and studied her face, his flashing eyes amused at her questions. Giving her a smile, he reached out, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. Shade felt her heart jump, sending her skin flaring up at his touch. "I don't really know. Maybe." He continued to watch her, a sad smile playing across his lips. "Once camp is set up tonight, we will work on more sword fighting. Be ready!" He grabbed his cup from the ground while dusting off his pants. He walked away then without another word, leaving her stunned.

"Wh-what? More tonight? Dylan?" She stuttered and couldn't spit out the rest of her words. He was gone and nowhere near her now. Shaking her head, she laughed to herself.

He's so strange and drives me insane! Maybe that's a good thing.

*****

SHADE STRETCHED HER legs out before her, massaging her calves and working out some of the knots deep under her skin. They had stopped for a rest again after another horrible river crossing. She wondered if the fey ever even got sore. Probably not. She kept wondering what Dylan was thinking, too. Some of the things he did and said confused her. It made her frown at the thought of how nervous he made her feel.

Standing up, she took her teacup back to Stephen, who seemed to like being the group's cook and occasional dishwasher. He gave her a short nod, smiling as he continued to wash the soiled dishes. He wasn't actually physically washing them, he was just moving his hands over them, making them rinse themselves in the river.

I need to learn that! That'd be useful back home! Shade thought, turning back toward the group where Jack was talking seriously to Ewan. Maps sat spread out before them on a table. Who brought the furniture? Shade thought as she walked toward them. She still couldn't get over the bath tent and the constant use of magic here. When she reached the two men, they were pointing at several spots on the map, plotting their journey.

"I think going over Fable's Fair Bridge would be a better option, it goes closer to the cliffs of Raenin. We need to go past the cliffs and end up in Solare's Beach. There's a cave road there we can take to the inland forests, around the Santiran lands. If we go down to Maziel's Pass, it will take us longer to make it to the beach, and it goes too close to Unseelie territory." Jack's hand was darting around the map at several points on the unfamiliar land.

Shade studied it while the men stood there thinking. She could see the cities of Portland and San Diego along one side of the great fey territory. There were areas marked off that showed the highways and smaller human towns. The vast wilderness that belonged to the fey was unbelievable. She traced the river lands with her fingers and found Solare's Beach on the map. Shaped like a crescent moon, it was not very big at all. It had a small river that emptied into the ocean along one side. Next was Craven's Cave Road, which wound around the cliffs of the beach and disappeared into a cave. Shade shuddered at the thought of going into another cave again.

"How do we make it across the cliffs?" Shade asked Ewan and Jack. They turned toward her and smiled.

"You have to walk down the west side of the cliffs or take a long rope bridge across this great river." Ewan pointed at a line crossing across the largest of the rivers that bisected the cliffs.

Shade cringed because crossing a bridge held together by rope was not much of a comfort either. Caves and unstable bridges; it's my lucky day. Her throat ached from nerves, and it felt as if there were a knot in it. "Really? Ah man, do we have to go on a rope bridge?" She glanced at Jack and Ewan. "And another cave?"

"You afraid of heights, Shade?" They said at once and laughed at the disgust all over her face.

"No! Of course not! It's just, they're so flimsy! It rocks a lot, and it just isn't safe!" She crossed her arms and huffed away. Jack started coughing, trying to hold back his laughter while Ewan slapped him on his back.

When they had stopped snickering, Ewan cleared his throat, his face flushed and his eyes twinkling bright. He motioned for everyone to gather their stuff and fall back into line to leave.

Shade fell in with the group, still grumbling under her breath. She followed everyone out along the bank of the rushing river. She began to wonder just how long it was going to take to get to the Santiran Fountains. It felt like they had been gone forever. Her patience was wearing thin, especially with nature. Seeing the map made her feel even more sullen. The territory they were crossing was enormous and so vast that it seemed like they hadn't really gone that far. So much had happened already, and they were not even close yet.

"Hey, having fun yet?" Soap asked as he hung back from the others and fell in step with her. She gave him a nasty look and didn't like the fact that someone else from the group was making fun of her.

"Ok, Ok, no need to be harsh," he said, losing his usual grin. "I was just wondering something, Shade. And I hope you would answer this for me."

She sighed and turned back toward Soap. His contagious good mood was already flowing over her and taming her gloomy demeanor. She grinned back, nodding. "What is it?" She slipped on a damp, mossy rock in the slick grasses. Soap caught her arm and cradled her with his other one. Her face was so close to his, he could have kissed her. She laughed a bit and thanked him for catching her before he answered, straightening herself up.

"The voices, the ones you said are your spirit guides. Are they still bothering you? What do they say about us?"

Shade took a deep breath and thought about it for a moment. She hadn't really heard from her spirit guides since they'd left the caverns. As a matter of fact, she hadn't heard the voices at all since waking up from the attack. It had actually been kind of nice not to hear any noise in her head but her own thoughts. She stretched out her mind to find them but no one answered her inner thoughts. Panic suddenly swirled inside her as she felt a kind of emptiness without them.

Why have they been silent? Maybe they're gone for good now.

"Honestly, I haven't had them talk to me since Darren attacked me. It's funny, my whole life I wished they would just shut up and now-now I miss them."

"Well, it's probably just the rivers; they're quite magical, you know. They say that the rivers are the roads of dreams. Once you stand by one, the magic is too strong. It can literally turn a fey into a near mortal. We can't use too much of our magic here; the river won't have it. That's the myth, anyway. It's like dead space to our kind, the in between of worlds. I think it might be affecting you, too. I literally can't change around the rivers. I can only use a simple glamour and charms. It's strange...."

Shade nodded as they continued down the slippery banks without speaking again for a while. She wondered if Soap wanted to ask her anything else. He seemed more quiet than usual. This would have bothered her more, but concentrating on not slipping on another rock or mossy wet patch kept her attention for now. They reached the edge of the bank to another crossing area. She groaned as she watched the front of the group submerge themselves up to their waists in cold river water. The rush of the current wasn't as strong at the crossings points, but she loathed the cold feel of the water. She reached the edge of the bank and watched as Soap strode right on in without so much as a whimper. Man up, already! She sighed and dipped her feet into the icy water, sucking in a breath.

She was near the other side when she heard some shouting. She straightened up to see further up the bank where Ewan, Jack, and Than were wildly shouting at someone, someone she couldn't see from her position in the river.

"Shade, come on, I think we're being attacked. Hurry!" Sary waved at her frantically and held her other hand out to her. She took it and pulled herself up out of the rushing waters. The chill was there again, and her teeth chattered together. She was pretty sure her lips were blue with cold. Sary kept half turning and pressing her on to follow, practically dragging her along.

Soap had already left his position in front of her to join Jack and the others, who were now taking shelter behind some trees and drawing weapons. Shade found a large tree trunk to hide behind as arrows started sailing by, buzzing like bees as they flew. She felt drugged and sluggish from the cold. She had the blanket on, but in the cover of the trees and with no hot tea to drink this time, she was not recovering as well as before. Huddling against the tree and pulling the blanket around tightly for warmth, she was still shivering. She peeked around the tree as there was a break in the flying arrows. Whoever was attacking them had either run out or was restocking their weapons.

Jack was yelling at someone. Everyone stood their ground, hiding in their makeshift covers. She couldn't see who or what they were yelling at. She strained to hear anything... and then suddenly it came, a voice. The gravely laugh was in the distance, but whoever it belong to was not too far away.

"You can't hide forever, little half-breed. I know she's with you. Just hand her over, and we'll be on our way." The voice screeched through the trees.

Who is that? I've heard that voice before, Shade thought as the cruel laugh made her cringe. She strained a little more to see across the trees, spotting the owner of the voice. Lady Blythe was perched on a branch not too far above Ewan and the others. The Queen of the Dryad's skeletal, translucent wings were fluttering so fast that Shade could barely see them. If there hadn't been a slight breeze whirling around her, the tiny wings would have gone unnoticed altogether. Shade's heart pounded; she knew just what they wanted but not why.

"We will never give her to you, Blythe! You are far beyond your borders, and you have no rights here. This is neutral territory. Be gone already!" Jack's voice was strong and sturdy. He did not seem afraid but was definitely on the side of caution.

"You stupid fool! You dare insult me? I am Queen here. The trees are my domain, no matter where! You give me the Halfling and I let you leave alive, otherwise you can all die, and I still take the girl. Choose wisely!" Her cackling voice echoed through the air.

Shade didn't think it was possible, but she felt even colder than before. She worked hard to keep her teeth from chattering again, praying silently that the old hag of a faery would leave her alone. She didn't look like a nice faery from the 'fairy' stories of Shade's childhood. She looked vicious, dark and ruthless flying up there in the branches. Shade's heart was racing as she glanced around, trying to think of a way to get away from there.

"No, Lady Blythe. We can't do that; it is our oath to protect her and that we will, to the death even." Jack was holding his sword out; it glinted in the few rays that escaped the canopy of tree leaves above.

"So be it, die then," she said without feeling. Lady Blythe laughed even harder as more arrows began to fly.

Shade ducked back behind the trunk and looked around for the others. Sary was pulling out daggers and weapons from behind a tree near her. Stephen was already returning arrows to whomever it was that was shooting them. Some screams of pain howled through the trees, but she wasn't sure who was behind it. Cracking branches and thumps in the bushes made her jump. She pulled out her own short sword and held it tightly in her hands. Taking a deep breath, she stood up and pressed herself to the tree, trying to become one with it. If only she could change into a tree, she could hide pretty well then.

The battle spilled around her as Lady Blythe's warriors pushed back against them. Jack was clanging swords against one tall but slender fighter. He had bulging muscles and pale skin much like Blythe's, and long white hair. All but his eyes were pale; and his skin was almost translucent. A pair of wings were tightly folded and pressed against his back to avoid being sliced by a sword. He wore thin metal armor that glinted in the streams of light as he fought. They all looked similar to the queen, and they worked and moved together like a hive of drones.

Shade ran for cover at the edge of the battle and hid behind some large looming trees. The best way I can help everyone is to stay hidden and avoid getting hit, she thought. Part of her wanted to help, but she was sure there was no way she could fight.

Suddenly, the arrows stopped altogether, and everyone was on the ground fighting. Even Blythe had joined the fight with her own dual slender swords. She was holding off Than, who was fighting with his daggers, their silver sheen glinting with every movement. She kicked him hard in the stomach and laughed as he flew back onto the ground. Dirt was flying up everywhere. Blythe caught Shade watching her and a sinister smile crept across her face as she started toward Shade.

"Come here, little girlie." She started marching toward Shade but ran right into Jack and his swords, losing one of hers in the collision. She blocked him with her remaining sword and began battling his two. The metallic resonance filled the air as Shade backed away into the shadow of the forest. Her heart was pounding in her chest so hard that she could feel the beat vibrating in her throat. She felt flushed as her blood pumped rapidly throughout her body, and her breaths grew short and quick.

"Shade!" Dylan was now next to her and tugging at her arm. He led her deeper into the woods, and she tried hard to not stumble or fall on the branches and dead shrubbery that scraped at her legs and sliced at her arms.

"Slow down, Dylan! I can't go that fast!" Her hand slipped from his as she fell to the ground, grinding her knees into the dirt and rock.

Dylan didn't pick her up. He was now occupied, swinging his sword against another warrior dryad. As they fought around her, Shade managed to get to her feet. Mud streaked across her jeans and hands, making her wipe even more of the mess onto her pants. It was then that she noticed her sword had fallen onto the ground. She looked back over her shoulder at Dylan; he and his foe were still clanging their swords together. Dylan had a cut along his left forearm that was streaked with blood. Shade stepped forward and bent down to grab her sword, swearing as she did, for her right knee was on fire. I must have scraped it or bruised it when I fell. She stumbled to another tree and pressed her back to it, gripping the sword in her hands; the blade and hilt also caked in mud.

Her eyes were stinging with tears, although she hadn't noticed that she'd been crying. Swallowing back a sob, she shook with fear. Breathing deeply, she looked around the large tree trunk and tried to see through the woods for anyone else in the group. She heard screams, yelling and swords clanging, but she wasn't as close to the fighters as she'd first thought. She couldn't hear them clearly anymore, realizing she'd stumbled too far away. Her heart jumped as morbid thoughts crept into her head. What if they're hurt or dead? She couldn't even see Dylan anymore but continued to hear the clank of swords.

Shade moved slowly from her spot and crept closer to the voices, using the trees and bushes for cover. She hunched behind them, pressing herself into them, wishing she could blend into them and disappear. The hilt of her sword was cool but reminded her of playing pirates with fake swords as a child. She tried her best to slow her breathing, feeling slightly dizzy from her frantic panting. Shade listened intently, but it seemed like the fighting had died down. The silence was even more frightening than the noise. Leaves rustling above her like a flock of birds flapping their wings, startling her. She could hear a loud roar of rushing water behind her but nothing else.

This can't be good. What now? Where is everyone? Shade waited for an answer. Her spirit guides were silent. What happened to you guys? The silence made her feel utterly alone. The forest was daunting, dark, and forlorn. She let the tears flow but bit her lip to swallow her sobs. Sliding down the trunk, she curled herself in the oversized roots that veined the dirt. Her legs bent up under her as she hugged them, her sword still dangling loosely from her hands.

Time seemed to have stopped now. She still couldn't hear anyone but felt afraid to move. A cool breeze rustled the canopy of the trees, and it felt like something, or someone, had brushed against her, making her jump just a bit. It prickled along her arms like cactus spines, making her realize someone was very close. She held her breath and slowly stood up, still pressed to the trunk. Listening, she knew that whoever was around was trying to blend in too.

Shade could feel eyes burning into her as though they were waiting for her to give herself away. She wiped the last of her tears from her face and gripped her sword more tightly. Her hair flew about her face, stuck with sweat and stringy. She could taste salt on her lips, dirt and tears, knowing she was a disheveled mess. She thought about her family and Ilarial and didn't want to disappoint them. There was no giving up. There was more than just fear inside her, she could feel it. Straightening up, she breathed out slowly and began scanning the woods.

"I can smell your fear, little girl. Why don't you just give up? Lady Blythe won't hurt you, at first. I just want to talk for a bit, and then maybe the hurt can start after that," she sneered.

Shade was so disgusted by the old woman's cackling laugh; she could almost feel it rippling down her spine. Shade couldn't see her, but she could feel the old faery's magic dancing along her skin. The faery radiated power like an unchecked flame that touched Shade with its fingers. She estimated in her head that the faery was just on the other side of the tree. It was then that she squeezed her sword, feeling her fingers digging into each other and turning white from the pressure. She let out a primal scream, swinging the sword hard as she flung herself around the corner.

The blade sliced Blythe in her shoulder but failed to cut too deeply. She screeched and jumped back, bringing her blade up in defense. Crimson blood dripped down her arm and oozed off into the dark earth. The queen did not seem very tall to Shade. Even standing up made her still look like a short, bony thing of a sprite. No wonder she spent her life up in the trees, anyone can look intimidating from up high. Shade retreated behind the tree but readied herself to sprint or fight.

"You stupid girl! How dare you attack me!" There was a loud thump against the trunk of the tree.

Shade's bravery was being used up way too fast, and she was pretty sure the old woman had just tried to blast her with something. She stepped back from the tree and readied her sword once more. Blythe suddenly jumped in front of her from the side, hollering in another language, her pointy teeth flashing and her sword held high. Then she charged. Shade dodged her but tripped on a tree root. She scrambled to stand but stumbled backward, forced to crawl on her hands and feet to get away.

Lady Blythe hit the roots with her sword, making it stick. She tugged with her scrawny arms, but failed to budge it from the earth. The tree seemed to grip it tighter the more she fought to retrieve her weapon. Shade took the moment to get back onto her feet and run. She ran as fast as she could, glancing back only to find Blythe without her sword running just as fast and quickly gaining ground.

Shade dodged and wove her way through the trees. The roar of the river water was closer now, but the rush of wind blowing in her ears made it impossible to calculate how far away it was. She prayed that the land would not run out for her. She had the feeling the Dryad Queen could cross the river faster than she could.

Shade forced herself to make an abrupt stop as the land narrowed to an edge. Stuffing the sword away in her pack, she prepared to cross the river but she was shocked to learn that instead, she found a drop-off. One of the rivers emptied over a cliff and formed into a waterfall.

Oh my God....Water clouds rose from the rocks below and she could feel herself pale as the height of the cliff became more evident. The land stretched out beyond the drop-off with more forests, hills, rivers and jagged mountains.

There's nowhere to go but down.

Shade turned to see Blythe slowing her run to a jog and snickering at her. Her large eyes flashed with her wicked smile. Her pale skin had a slight flush to it now, and she slowly stepped toward Shade. Shade felt her heart thudding hard in her chest and tried not to be afraid. The Dryad Queen licking her lips didn't help, but it made Shade feel like she was about to be dinner.

Blythe took out her dagger. "You have nowhere to go. You're so weak. I wonder why Zinara could even fathom that you could save them. The Unseelie will be greatly pleased to have you as their prisoner. The Unseelie Queen will owe me, and she will be sick with my victory. Come to me now... I promise it won't hurt much." She sneered but her eyes were cold and serious. She stepped closer, pulling a rope from her waist belt.

Shade shook her head and turned her eyes back to the waterfall. There was nowhere to go. She strained to hear her comrades but heard only the rush of water overwhelming her ears. No one was coming to save her. She glanced back at Lady Blythe and her evil smile. No, Shade could not go with her. As Shade stepped farther back, she realized that the edge was inches from her feet. She knew with certainty that her fate was sealed.

"You don't want to fall now, do you?" Lady Blythe asked, eyeing her with words coming out like sweet, poisonous honey.

Shade wasn't fooled. She could feel her knees wobble but concentrated on not falling. She wasn't sure how long she could steady herself with a horrid witch in her face. Letting out a nervous sigh, she began to reach for her backpack. This is crazy and it won't work! Stuffing the warm blanket Dylan had given her into her pack, she pulled it onto her shoulders. After a moment, she turned from Blythe and jumped.

The wind lashed at her body and howled in her ears. She could barely hear the queen's furious scream as the icy water swallowed her whole.

Chapter Thirteen

THE FRIGID WATERS had shut down her senses, and Shade couldn't feel a thing. Everything was dark, but she heard a faint call of sparrows high above her over the gurgling sound of water. She attempted to move her fingers and arms, but they barely responded. Her eyes felt like weights were on them, gluing them shut. She was blinded, moaning as she rolled to her side. Her bones creaked in protest at the shift, and her fingers sent a sharp, stinging pain up her arms.

The light was searing as she opened her eyes, blinking a few times so they could adjust. Am I dead? Where the hell am I? God, my body is burning! She was sure if this was heaven she'd feel nothing but peace. Hell, on the other hand... well, you can burn in pain there, she thought nervously.

Lying there on the bank of the river, she could feel her feet, soaked and frozen, still in the water. The earth was cold underneath the rest of her body. Her backpack felt dry, probably due to the spells Braelynn had cast. Shade's clothes were another matter; they were sopping wet and melded to her body, making her teeth chatter involuntarily. It felt like she'd never be warm again. She sat up very slowly and surveyed the muddy embankment, seeing nothing but the sand that irritated her skin.

At least the sun still shines, she thought, trying to hold on to the slightest bright spot in this situation. It occurred to her that she had to at least try and move or she'd freeze to death. If I don't get moving, heaven will be my next stop. She groaned, feeling the sting of every scrape that marked her body, remembering the rocks on the bottom of the waterfall. She wasn't sure if anything was broken and struggled to get to a drier area on the shore. Her left arm was sore and wouldn't cooperate. Craning her neck to the side, she found her shoulder not quite in the right anatomical position.

I must have dislocated my shoulder.

She thought it was strange that it didn't hurt until she'd looked at it. Whimpers escaped her mouth, but she continued to drag herself up the embankment with her good arm and two heavy legs. A rush of nausea from the pain pressed at her, threatening to make her pass out. It hung on like sticky syrup until she leaned to one side and let whatever was left of breakfast shoot out. Her dark blue lips trembled, her hands cyanotic and oddly pretty in the glowing daylight. The color reminded her of arctic blue ice.

When the heaving stopped, she found herself sobbing. She didn't hear anyone around her, and fortunately, she had probably lost Blythe in the froth of the falls. What was so great about getting away if she was just going to end up freezing to death, anyway, covered in filthy mud? Shade prayed that her mom would find her here, helpless and in dire need of a doctor, and whisk her away. All she wanted was to believe this was all a bad dream, and that she'd wake up and find herself in a safe and warm place. Shade lay there for what felt like an eternity before she heard the crunch of crackling leaves. Swallowing down the last sob, she blinked through the tears in her eyes. Her heart beat like a fluttering hummingbird, banging in her chest.

"Who's there?" She heard the crack in her voice, sounding faded and rough. She wondered how long she had screamed heading down the falls.

"Hush now, you're hurt. Don't move or you'll hurt yourself even more. One moment; this might, unfortunately, hurt a bit," a gentle voice warned.

She felt a hard tug on her body and screamed as an unbearable pain flared up her left arm. Her body shifted and dragged farther up the shore, over more beach sand and onto a dry blanket before she looked up at her rescuer. It was becoming nearly impossible to keep her eyes open. Her head rolled from side to side as the pain from her damaged shoulder burned through her body. Before the darkness came, she caught sight of a pair of gleaming green eyes, dried autumn leaves and a flash of brown linen. Trying to open her mouth to speak was futile as she slipped away into the silence of unconsciousness.

Chapter Fourteen

SHADE, FORGIVE US. We have tried to reach you, but you've cast us out. We're here to help you heal and awaken you from your deep sleep. Now only dreams will find us. The voices were gentle, but spoke with urgency, echoing in her head.

Shade stood in an open field; the mountains and rivers were nowhere in sight. The breezes caressed the tall grasses and swirled about her hair, dancing and playing with the strands like unseen ballerinas.

Where the heck am I now?

Astrid, Duende and Elaby stood before her. She knew them. Her spirit guides were familiar and comforting. They were flesh and bone standing in front of her now. The three sisters were carbon copies of each other. Their long black hair and gowns floated around them as if suspended in water. Their pale skin shone like moonlight glistening on the surface of a lake. She could not see their feet; it was as if they hung above the grass without touching the ground. They were beautiful.

"What's going on? Where am I? Why can't I hear you guys anymore?" Shade felt the sting of tears as her voice wavered. She was through with crying; there had been enough sorrow surrounding her, making her feel suddenly so tired. She brought her hand to her left shoulder and found it no longer dislocated, hanging normally in its place. It moved effortlessly, without any pain. She hoped she was dreaming and not dead.

"Shade, we know you're afraid, but we won't harm you. It could not be helped that we were away," the sisters told her all at once. "Somehow your magic trapped Darren in the mirror, but it also pushed us out of your head, too. We are unable to communicate with you, our ties now severed. We've worked hard to find you again. Your magic shields you, letting us in only in your dreams."

Shade pondered their words for a moment. Damn it... Darren! He had scarred her far worse than she'd even imagined. The loss of her spirit guides was like having a chunk of her soul ripped away. She sighed and watched them smile at her. Each sister finished the others' sentences. It was intriguing to listen to them as they harmonized in one voice.

"So where am I? I was on some shore, freezing. My arm was probably broken and not in the right place. Am I awake? Dead? Dreaming?"

"You are still asleep. Fear not, dear Shade, we have healed you with our powers. We have been away for too long," said the women. "Now, we are unbound."

"What do you mean? I won't hear you in my head anymore? How could I have let this happen?" Shade felt her knees weaken but caught herself before they failed.

"We are so sorry. We had no idea this would come to pass. We can only believe that any further communication with us will be only through your dreams."

Shade nodded at the revelation. No point in trying to undo what was already done. Even so, the loss twisted in her chest, making it hard to breathe.

The dream shifted rapidly, and the bright warm sunlight faded into a deep grey and cloudy day. Shade spun around, watching the swirling dark grey clouds grow above her. "What's happening?" The wind howled around her, whipping the grass across her legs.

"We must go, your dream is breaking. It's time to wake up Shade; wake up." The clouds came down around in a deep, billowing fog that swallowed the spirits, landscape and Shade alike.

"Wake up...."

*****

"WAKE UP! IT'S just a bad dream, wake up!"

The voice sounded familiar, but Shade couldn't place it. She squeezed her eyes together before slowly opening them to a dimly lit room. Her eyes narrowed in at the shadowy figure in front of her, focusing on its blurred edges. His face was partially covered by a dark, hooded cloak. The hood only allowed lips to show through, obscuring the rest of his face in darkness.

The figure reached toward her, making her scramble in a panic, pushing away until her back hit the wall. Her left arm throbbed with a dull ache, but she found she could use it just fine. Still confused, she wrapped her arms around her legs, gripping them while she stared at the stranger. She concentrated on keeping her eyes in focus; the room tilted in a wave of dizziness. She'd sat up way too fast.

The figure stopped advancing and eyed her. Seeing her pull away, he retreated, stood straighter and waited. When he did finally speak, his voice was soft but thick and flowing, like rich syrup.

"I apologize; I meant no harm. Please, I only want to help you. My name is Ursad and I live here in the forest by the ocean." He paused, waiting for a reaction from her. When none came, he proceeded. "Is there anything I can do? Do you need anything? Water? Are you hungry? Any pain? You looked like you've been through a wringer." He spoke quickly, overly eager to help her.

Shade's face flushed, and her eyebrows furrowed in further confusion.

"Sorry, I don't mean to frighten you," he apologized.

"Where am I?" Shade relaxed a little, as he did not try to come closer again.

"You're here in my house; it's not much, but it's home. I hope you found the bed to your liking. I really don't have a lot of room, but it's comfortable enough for me, at least." He studied her closely, chewing on his smooth, plump lips.

Shade stared right back at him. He looked pretty harmless, but the hood hid too much of his face for her to read him well enough. Trying to relax, she sat cross-legged on the bed, pulling the soft, threadbare blanket around her. Her body was cozy warm, and her aches weren't as sharp as they had been. She sighed; at least she wasn't in Blythe's care. This was definitely the better half of her current situation.

"I'm sorry. My name's Shade. I just wasn't sure if it was safe here. I was being chased...." She stopped, wondering if she should trust this stranger with anything, especially with her story. Maybe he knew too much already. "I guess I lost them. How did you find me? Was I out of it for long?"

"Shade?" The way her name spilled out of his mouth made her shiver. "Well, nice to meet you. I found you on the beach. It shares the shore with a small pool of water that feeds from a small stream that breaks off from one of the great rivers. I live near it, and I happened to walk by when I saw you. You passed out after that. I am truly sorry that I hurt you pulling on your shoulder like that. I didn't know it was dislocated, but somehow it's not anymore. You must be full of healing magic, you've healed quite rapidly. It's amazing, if you don't mind me saying so. I would love to know how you do it." He was smiling, but she definitely did not like having his face so hidden. She reached toward him to pull the hood back as he spoke, since he was not too far from the bed. It was his turn to pull away and crouch by the door.

"No, please!" He shook his head and hid the rest of his face in his sleeve. He bounced nervously back and forth on his feet as though the thought of pulling off the hood caused him great anxiety.

"Why not?" Shade demanded. "I don't feel very comfortable talking to you when I can't see your face. Let me see. Is there, um, is there something wrong with your face?" She sat back down and blushed with embarrassment, realizing just how forward she'd been, possibly even rude. She hadn't meant to offend him; her nervousness had her reacting without thinking.

Maybe he's deformed under there. She gulped, shaking the thought out of her head. How bad can it be?

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that, but really, you need to take it off. It's okay; you'll scare me more with it on." Shade waited and watched him bring his arm down.

He seemed to be thinking about what she'd said because he let his gaze linger on her for a long time. Unexpectedly, he nodded. "You're right. I am what I am, but please don't be afraid. I tend to frighten everyone. I don't get too many visitors here at all, not even other fey. I've gotten used to solitude. It has been so long since I've been around others." He sighed and lifted his chin. Tentatively, he reached up and pulled the hood down, letting it fall away from his face.

Shade tried to keep in the gasp that fought to escape her lips. She knew, however, that her shock showed in her widening eyes. She immediately composed herself, hoping the slip would not anger him. His face was unusual, but she wouldn't say it was scary; not with such sad eyes staring back at her.

"Ursad, can I ask you something? What exactly are you?" I've never seen anyone like him, she thought as she observed his face. Where the facial hair ended, his skin grew like tree bark, all tan and dark with lines trailing through it. His hair was made of green, thin leaves with twigs and small thin vines springing from his head. She could definitely tell he was faerie or human, but he'd been transformed into what appeared to be a tree man. His hands were smooth and human in appearance, but nothing above the neck resembled a normal human face.

"I didn't always look this way. I was cursed a long time ago, and my face and hair have been affected in this way ever since." His face turned sad, and he lowered his eyes to stare down at the floor as he continued. "I guess I should explain further." He looked up at her and paused, waiting for her approval.

She nodded to him, eager for an explanation.

"I was a faery prince once, a long time ago. I was very handsome, and women threw themselves at my feet, catering to my every whim. I had my choice of any fey or human woman. Well, you could say I was arrogant, knowing my effect on women. I thought myself undeniable and irresistible. That is, until one night I was in a tavern, enjoying the party and drinking a bit too much liquor. I was surrounded by beauties and laughing with the lot of them. It was quite fun.

"One woman approached me then. She wasn't the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, but definitely not the ugliest. She was quite plain in appearance, with flat brown hair, plain brown eyes and nothing remarkable in her smile to speak of. It was as if when she was created, no animation or personality of any kind was added. I was just not interested... but she had other ideas.

"She told me, 'I am Elinia, daughter of Talik, the were-stone maker. I am here to offer marriage to you. I love you and would be honored to be your wife,' It came out cold, lacking any kind of warmth and stiff as a board.

"Of course, I didn't know who she was or what she was for that matter. I laughed at her request and snubbed her in front of the whole tavern in my drunken stupor. Everyone laughed at my smart antics, and I gave her a quick shove to get her out of my immediate sight. I didn't know what it was I was doing. I laughed and laughed until she scrambled off the floor and ran out of the tavern crying, to my satisfaction. I was glad I didn't have to ridicule her anymore, relieved that she was gone.

"I finished out the night laughing and having a fabulous time. Not once did I give another thought to the girl. When I readied myself to leave, I walked out of the tavern and to the stables where my horse was waiting. When I was untying my horse, she approached me from behind.

"'I curse you, Ursad, Prince of the lands of Santire. Prince of nothing you will be! Fair as the bark of a tree, I curse you for infinity! Return you to how you are freed, gentle kiss from a queen-to-be!' I stared at her as she finished her words and started laughing again.

"'You'll regret this, Ursad. You will look back with a heart broken and filled with remorse. I promise you that.' She disappeared then, as suddenly as she had come. I was left alone in the silence of the dark stables. I didn't feel different, but curses are not taken lightly in fey culture. I began to wonder what she meant by her words. I shrugged them off and rode away into the night, back to my kingdom."

"It was a long journey home, so I had to stop for the night. As I walked to a lodge at the side of a country road, I wiped my face because it was covered in dripping sweat. I felt sick then, and wondered what was going on. I checked into the lodge and fell into a deep sleep, exhausted.

"The next morning, after I woke, I walked to the mirror hanging in the room to comb my hair. My hair and my face had changed. What I saw was what you see now. Horrified, I fled my country, for no one would recognize me looking like such a monster. I haven't returned since. So, here I am, alone." Ursad looked back up at Shade and their eyes met.

"I'm drawn to the forest, the ocean, and the pools of water. They pull me like a magnet so I chose this place to live. They give me solace in my pain and exile. The waters bless me with their favor, leaving bits of the world, and food is easily attainable here on the banks. Now they've brought you to me, and I can't help but wonder why. You were hurt, so I had to help. I hope you are not afraid of me; I mean no harm, really." He sucked in a deep breath, the memories wearing on him. "I guess you could say I have been humbled from the years of isolation." He was watching her so intensely, speaking rapidly, making it clear that he was lonely and excited to be with another person.

Shade fought to look away. His face was smooth and serious, but his deep green eyes were wrought with sorrow. When she found him still watching her, she spoke. "I'm sorry. I hope I didn't insult you."

"No, you didn't," said Ursad with a kind smile.

It was alarming to look at him at first, but she could see his handsome features underneath all of it, and in a peculiar way, found him striking. Time had not withered this man; he was preserved in the prison he had made for himself. I wonder if he really was a prince. This is so strange, she thought to herself. A prince of the Santiran lands, of all things, the very place she needed to go.

"Ursad, I'm thirsty and hungry. I could use something to eat, if you have anything to share. Oh, do you know where my things are?"

He nodded as he turned toward the door. "I will get them for you. I left your pack near the fireplace to make sure it dried out a bit, though it seems impervious to water. I couldn't take anything out; it has a personalized lock charm on it and would not open for me. I do hope your things are not ruined." He ducked out the door and Shade was left staring after him.

She suddenly became aware she was not wearing her own tattered muddy clothes from before, but wearing soft cotton, drawstring pajama pants and an oversized tunic instead. They were clean and soft but she pulled the blankets even tighter around herself. She tried not to imagine him changing her out of her soaked, dirty clothes. Squirming at the thought, she felt her cheeks flush red.

Ursad returned with a tray of fruit, a meat sandwich and a cup of juice. Her stomach growled at the sight of the food. He set it gently in front of her, not smiling but extremely serious. She tried to smile and soon forgot her embarrassment. She settled in and started to inhale the meal. Food in Faerie seemed to taste so much better than in her world. She wondered if it was really better or if she was just ravenous having not eaten in hours, not to mention all the exertion of the journey. She chewed and ate so fast she started hiccupping. She guzzled down the juice, hoping to stave them off.

As Shade finished, she realized Ursad had stayed and watched her. She'd been gorging herself and, embarrassed, she slowed her chomping to a moderate chew. Swallowing the last bite, she observed Ursad a little closer. Brilliant green eyes shone in the dim light of the room, piercing into her soul.

She raked her eyes over his hair of vines and leaves. It was so long, it tumbled down past his waist like tendrils of flowers. Would it hurt to pluck a leaf off the thin vines that draped him like a shroud and dangled over his shoulders? He was dressed in dark brown clothes; they hung frayed and well worn, reminding her of peasant's clothing from fairytale stories.

Shade chuckled to herself. Maybe this was her "fairytale" in a way. Nothing is as it should be. Nothing is going the way it should be, for that matter. The world was not normal here, and Shade wasn't sure she liked it that much. And now, I'm lost.

"Is everything all right? Was the food good, Shade?" Ursad asked, breaking her thoughts and dragging her back to the present. She nodded and pushed the food tray away, signaling that she was done. Ursad promptly stood up, collected it and left through the door. He was now smiling widely and humming softly with a happy skip in his step.

Shade shook her head. Faery men are so strange! She sighed and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She grabbed the footboard and stood up slowly, feeling her legs wobble beneath her. Standing for a minute and relaxing her muscles, she breathed through the dull pain that resonated throughout her bones. It was a cold reminder of the chill of the river, making her shudder.

She glanced down at her fingers and flexed them. They felt slightly stiff but functional; the slight ache wasn't bothering her much at all. She'd been counting her blessings. Somehow she had healed her horrendous injuries; maybe her spirit guides had done what they had promised.

Thank you for this gracious gift. Shade hoped that somehow they had heard her.

Ursad entered the room, holding out her pack and a folded pile of clothes that she'd been wearing before. They were washed, repaired and folded neatly. Shade gave him a small grin and let him place it on the bed next to her. "I took the liberty of repairing your clothes; the rocks nearly ripped them to shreds. Your pack is dry. I take it you don't want to be staying very long, which is really too bad. I would like to get to know you and hear your story. Like I said, I haven't had any company in such a long time." His voice drifted off, a longing clinging to his words.

When she didn't say anything, he continued. "I mean, you shouldn't hurry out. You're welcome to stay as long as you like, of course." He waited again, shifting nervously back and forth on his feet before turning to rush out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Shade laughed quietly; his nervousness seemed to calm her anxiety.

Rummaging through her pack, she pulled out a fresh set of clothes and stuffed her repaired rags into the backpack. She wondered if there was a shower or restroom in the little cabin. Slipping some house shoes on that she'd thrown into her pack, just in case, she opened the door and peeked out, calling to Ursad when she didn't find him there. "Is there a bathroom I can use? I could really use a shower."

"It's to your right," he called from an adjacent room.

Shade stepped out and looked down the darkened hallway. The walls were made of wood, twisting and curving in such a way as to create the rooms and halls. They must have been inside a large tree that had been converted into a cottage. Still in awe, she retrieved her light stone from her pack and held it in front of her. The glowing light was bright in the dim surroundings and comforted her a bit. The hallway was not as long as it had looked in the dark. Entering the last door at the end of the hall, she found a modern-looking bathroom; nothing elaborate, but it was clean. She placed her clothes on the counter, along with the light stone, which continued to glow. She smiled and was glad it didn't need to stay in contact with her to stay lit. She whispered a soft thanks to it and turned the shower on.

I wonder how this all works? There isn't any electricity in the cabin, but it appears to have modern conveniences. It was still hard to take in the idea that magic and faeries were real, even after everything she'd been through and seen. The water ran over her skin, the heat and steam reviving her with every drop. Pure bliss.

When Shade was done, she returned down the hall to her room, slipped in and putting her things away. She put her shoes on and held her backpack in one arm as she left the room to check out the rest of the house and find Ursad. The main room was small but cozy; a blazing fire crackled on one side of the room in a simple fireplace. There was one reading chair made out of old red velvet, and it sat in front of the fire along with a fluffy couch placed on the right side of the room. It had a warm, cotton throw blanket sprawled across it with bits of yarn loosened from its edges. On the left stood a small table and two chairs made out of wood, which appeared to be hastily nailed together. The wood was smooth and worn, showing signs of age.

Ursad sat in one of the chairs and had his hands on his face when she entered the room. He pulled his hands away and stood up suddenly when he realized she had approached. He looked momentarily distressed, but composed himself immediately.

"Oh, you're done already? I guess you will want to be leaving, then." Sinking back into his chair, he looked devastated. His green eyes glowed with the fire dancing in them, his face darkening.

"Yes, I have to. I wanted to thank you for your hospitality. I don't know what would've happened to me if you hadn't found me." She stopped. He looked almost agitated at her words. She bit her lip nervously and approached the chair that sat opposite of him. Dropping her pack, she sat down and looked up at him. "Ursad?"

"Yes?" His voice sounded quiet and dejected.

"What's wrong? Are you upset? Did I do something wrong?"

His green eyes drifted up to meet hers. She realized that his cheeks were wet with tears and waited uncomfortably for a response. She felt compelled to stay. A moment or two wouldn't hurt.

"Ursad?" she said, but he didn't respond.

"You don't have to go. You're safe here. Whatever was chasing you will not find you here. I have wards all around this area that prevent even other faeries from wandering in or knowing of your presence. You don't have to go and risk your life again, Shade. Stay here. Stay here forever, please?" He had his hands grasping the table, his knuckles white with the strain.

Shade studied them, moving her eyes carefully back to his face. She shook her head, feeling suddenly drowsy, like she'd been drugged. No, I'm just feeling really tired, that's all. "Ursad, I can't do that. I have people counting on me... I've been asked to do something, and I can't give up. I have to do this, or the land of Faerie faces a war between the two faerie courts. Queen Zinara needs me to get to the fountains of the Santiran lands and get the magic water to help them keep the Unseelie court from waging war against them. So if I stay, the war would spill out of Faerie and into the mortal world. I live in that world, and my family does, too. I can't let that happen, Ursad. I can't." The warm spill of tears streamed down her cheeks as she spoke of her family. She missed them more than ever at that moment.

Ursad clasped his hands together on the table, his eyes no longer flaring, but once again filled with sadness. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have ever asked you to stay here. I know you're meant for great things. I can feel it. It's selfish of me to ask such things from you." He frowned, but handed her a handkerchief.

She wiped her face, blowing her nose and sniffling. Standing again, she felt her exhaustion growing. When will I be able to go home and sleep in my own bed? she thought sadly, frustrated beyond belief. She looked at Ursad and an idea came to her. "You could help me, you know."

Ursad jerked his head up. He seemed to be wondering what was going through her mind but decided to ask instead. "What do you mean, Shade?"

"You're a prince of the Santiran lands. You would know the way to the fountains, wouldn't you? I don't know the way, but you could take me there, couldn't you? Please, my friends will probably be heading that way, and I could catch up." Shade found herself sitting forward in the chair, surprised at how eager she was for him to agree to the idea. She took ahold of his hands, flashing her hopeful eyes at him. "I've been feeling lonely and lost, too. It would be nice to a have friend with me."

He glanced down at their hands weaved together. Shade pulled back, her face flushed with heat and her stomach fluttering in an exhilarating way, making her wonder why it was happening. Maybe it was because she'd never had a man look at her like that before: his eyes full of hope and maybe desire. She glanced away, focusing on her hands now folded in her lap. Don't make something out of nothing... he's just a friend.

"Okay, I'll help you," he said.

Shade's face lit up as she jumped from her chair and hugged him, letting out a sigh of relief.

"Whoa, any tighter and I might not make the journey," Ursad chuckled, sounding winded. "I have to say your enthusiasm is contagious."

"Oh, sorry about that." She loosened her grip and stepped back. "You won't regret this, Ursad. Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I don't know what I would've done without your help." She stopped, enjoying his quiet smile. She fought the urge to hug him again, settling for a curt nod. She wasn't feeling exhausted anymore, but revived and ready to get started. "When should we go?"

"We can go now. Wait a moment, though." He opened a cabinet on the wall by the sink and rummaged through it. Tin cups and miscellaneous papers trailed out and clamored on the floor. Shade pressed her lips together, not wanting to laugh aloud and hurt his feelings. What a mess, she thought. His place was cozy but cluttered.

"Here we go!" He pulled out a piece of folded parchment that looked like it had seen too many years. He unfolded and shook it, letting dust puff out into the air. Coughing a little, he cleared his throat and laid the parchment out on the table. It was a map, another map of the faerie lands. It was extremely detailed, down to the tree stumps, and showed some rarely used paths.

Shade's eyes widened as she absorbed the amazing drawings and unusual names that were scattered throughout the parchment. She reached out and slid her finger over the area labeled "Santiran Fountains." "That's where I need to be." She glanced up and smiled at him, receiving his answering smile.

"We're here now." He traced the crescent of Solare's Beach and followed it down a crooked blue line. "This stream is the small river near where I found you." He traced the trail that led through what looked like a small town or village, past a small mountain range to a palace of stone near a much larger mountain range, which bordered all of Faerie.

"Yes, how long do you think it would take us to get there?" Shade asked, feeling the excitement flutter under her skin. They couldn't be that far from the fountains.

"It's a day and a half hike to reach the fountains. We can spend the night in the town of Genoden. The road is not what I'm afraid of, though." He paused, watching Shade's face fall. "The trail is filled with dark creatures and is probably already being watched by the Unseelie soldiers. We will have to sneak past them to reach the base of the Santiran Mountains, where the fountains are located. Staying off the road has its own dangers, too."

She pressed her lips together as she thought about what he was saying. Can't any part of this be simple? she thought, irritated. She was quickly learning life wasn't always easy or fun.

Chapter Fifteen

DYLAN'S FOOT SLIPPED as he climbed down the cliff of loose, muddy rock and dirt. He cursed under his breath as he grasped the jagged rocks firmly, feeling them rip into his palms. Looking down to see how much farther he had before reaching the lower banks of the falls, he eased himself carefully. He had seen Shade jump and could hardly believe she'd done that. He had been so enraged, stabbing Blythe had felt almost surreal. It had been only a second after she'd turned and faced him before he'd plunged his sword deep into her chest. Her deafening screech had filled the air while her warm crimson blood soaked his hands. When he had pulled his sword back out, he'd savored watching her crumble to the ground. Death had engulfed her thin body, shriveling it into a pile of ashes.

Reaching the edge of the cliff, Dylan had looked down into the misty cloud of river spray but had seen no sign of Shade. His blood screamed in his veins as a wave of pain crawled throughout his body, making him hunch over with its intensity. It let him know Shade had been hurt, and the blood tie would drag him to her as long as it was in place. The farther he got from her, the more it would hurt.

He cursed under his breath, wishing he had reached her before she had plunged into the falls. Glancing back at Blythe's withered body, or rather her pile of dust, he groaned. At least the dryad witch queen will not get in the way again. He knelt down, leaned over and scanned the area for a way down the falls. He didn't like what he saw; the way was treacherous. Sheathing his sword and tightening the leather straps that held it across his chest, he strengthened his resolve. Unfortunately, this had to be done. He glanced around for the rest of the group, but the fight had pushed inland rather than toward the cliff. He could no longer hear anyone. Damn, there's no time to be wasted.

He left them behind, afraid to wait too long to see if anyone survived--or didn't, for that matter. He had done well to protect Shade until this slip up. He mentally kicked himself for losing her. His hands burned and stung as he moved along the rocks while warm blood oozed from his cuts where the stone shredded his palms. Dylan gritted his teeth but continued. He could heal later; right now, getting down in one piece was the top priority. When his feet were firmly planted on the slick, muddy banks, he scanned for any signs of her. There was nothing that surfaced in the water or on the surrounding banks.

She has probably drifted away downstream, he thought. He ran as carefully as he could on the slippery rocks, splashing in small puddles and muddying up his boots to the knees. He didn't care; he had to find her, no matter where she was.

Dylan would never give up.

Chapter Sixteen

"WAIT!" URSAD WHISPERED urgently as he pulled Shade down behind some large boulders. She crouched next to him, reaching for her sword and quickly surveying the area.

"What? What is it? What do you see?" she asked. Her heart jumped in her chest as she waited, straining to hear a sound. The birds were singing, and the rustle of leaves swayed above them like an ocean wave. She saw and heard nothing, not a thing that would be considered off. Irritated, she turned toward Ursad, but he had a hand up to stop her from speaking.

"Look." He pointed out in front of them. She followed his finger out into the woods and narrowed her eyes. The vegetation was thicker here, with small bushes, vines and flowers covering the forest floor. Tall grasses shielded the dirt from the sunlight and made travel just that much more difficult. Shade scanned the area but shook her head. "I don't see anything."

Ursad placed a finger to his lips, pointing again slightly farther to the right. "There, do you see them? Right there, in the rays of light the sun has cast near the stream."

Shade looked again, not really expecting to see anything when she did. Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped. Unicorns! She watched the three creatures prance around the small stream. One was drinking the water, licking it up with its large, pink tongue; its coat was a shiny brown, with a stark white mane and tail. The other two were all white, like the crystal snow in winter. Their coats shone almost like diamonds. Shade exhaled a breath in amazement and smiled widely.

Ursad was also smiling, admiring the creatures with awe.

"Are they actual unicorns? I thought that they didn't exist. Wow!" Shade turned back to watch them after Ursad nodded. One of the white ones nuzzled the brown one then also began lapping at the water. They neighed happily, unaware of the watchers before them. Their long legs moved gracefully through the tall grasses, and their glistening horns reminded Shade of the swirls of a candy cane stick. She felt an almost uncontrollable urge to touch one. Her fingers itched as she clenched her hands into fists and fought the compulsion to stand and walk straight toward them. She didn't want to frighten them but didn't know why she felt this way.

"Come on Shade; unicorns like their privacy. They're a rare sight. I've seen these three many times, but that's only because I live near here. I thought you might like them. It's quite a gift that they're allowing you to see them, but we have to get going; it will be dark all too soon."

Shade shook her head. "But I... can I touch them, Ursad? They're the most beautiful things I have ever seen. Let me touch them, please!" she cried, her body trembling as she moved forward, filled with childlike excitement.

Ursad instantly had a hold of her arm and tugged, shaking his head. "Shade, look at me. Their beauty is unparalleled; it's part of their appeal, but if a human touches them, it could prove fatal. They will charm you then stab you through the heart. Only a winged unicorn would ever accept a rider, and as you can see, these are not of that breed. We must move on, Shade! You're bespelled; let it go, will it away." He tugged harder.

Shade felt herself needing to walk toward them but followed Ursad until they were out of sight and the overpowering urge subsided. "What was that, Ursad? Why show me the unicorns in the first place, if they can kill me? Really, what was the point if you were just going to pull me away?" An overwhelming gloom stuck to her as tears glistened in her eyes. Her weakness seemed so obvious, and she hoped he wouldn't laugh.

"The unicorns are gorgeous, yes, and they might seem harmless... but like the sirens of mythology, they lure you to your death. It's best if you do not think of them anymore. I just thought that it would be good that you saw them, so you could see and feel the weight of their pull and just how dangerous they can be. If you had been by yourself, who knows what would have happened?" Ursad cut down some of branches around them as he spoke. The forest's greenery thickened as they progressed. It was almost as thick as a jungle now.

"Well, thank you, Ursad. It's weird to be drawn to an animal like that. I feel strange, like I'm waking up from a drugged sleep or like I'm hung-over. Not that I really ever have gotten drunk or anything like that... you know, it's just an expression."

Shade yawned and pulled out her flask of water. The cool, sweet fluid met her lips and always seemed to chase the sadness away. She felt instantly better, revived. I wonder why my energy fluctuates so much. It made her think about feeling drugged at Ursad's cottage. A moment or so later she shrugged off her slight concern. I'm probably not healed completely. She was still shocked that she'd actually jumped into a raging, rushing waterfall.

"Yes. Not everything in Faerie is what it seems. Beauty can be evil and kindness can be a trap. Eating food from a Faerie could trap you here forever." He paused, glancing back at her for a moment before continuing. "Dancing to music in Faerie could make you dance until you die. Sprites and pixies can be quite devilish and conniving. The faerie courts may be glamorous, but everyone has their own agendas at heart. Goblins can be kind or wicked, friend or foe. It all depends. Entire dwellings could be just under your feet and you wouldn't even know it. Just remember Shade, trust no one and you'll be all right." He swung his machete like sword again, slicing the underbrush out of their way.

"Does that apply to you, too?" Shade chuckled, teasing Ursad but throwing him a playful smile. He continued to clear the underbrush without saying anything. She watched him, wondering what he was thinking. "So is it true, faeries can't lie?" Shade dodged a fallen log and turned into the slim openings of the grass that Ursad had made.

"Tell a lie? Well, faeries have a funny way of stretching the truth. Most, you'll find, try to be honest. You can also frequently run into the type that gets off by messing with your mind." Ursad paused, rubbing his arm and breathing slightly hard. He obviously wasn't used to so much physical activity and most likely preferred to hang around his cottage as opposed to traveling. "We're almost to the small faery town of Genoden. It's about a half an hour away. When we get close, use the cloak that I gave you and pull your hood over your head. We don't want any unwanted attention." He continued through the brush as she pulled the cloak out.

It was dirt brown and very plain in design. The brooch clip at the neck was like the wing of a bird, the bronze shimmering in the sunlight. She draped it over her arm and hugged the bulk of it to her chest. At least this would definitely not make her stand out. Walking behind Ursad, she could hear him curse the hard labor, crunching on the fallen twigs and debris. She focused on what he told her about faeries and lies, but more on the part about unwanted attention. Her mind pushed on to the thought of Genoden and what possibilities lay ahead for her there.

"Fey have a funny way of stretching the truth," Ursad had just told her. The part about them messing with the mind alarmed her the most. As they traveled closer to the town of Genoden she didn't think an old hooded cloak was going to protect her. Even so, Shade knew it was probable that she was going to get attention, wanted or not.

Chapter Seventeen

THE TOWN REALLY wasn't big at all. One could hardly call it a town. It was more like a small village, a one-street wonder. Its cobblestone streets and wooden houses reminded Shade of European cottages with thatch and ceramic tiles for roofs. There were people scurrying about all over the place. The market was the main street, and the second floors of the shops were apartments with living quarters. Shade pulled her cloak around her, hoping the anonymity of the crowd would make her almost invisible. She stayed glued right behind Ursad, holding a corner of his cloak as they weaved their way through the streets of vendors.

The faeries dressed in any and every color, from vibrant to drab, but it seemed the brighter the better. Some were without cloaks, showing off their slender, pale, perfect and muscular bodies. Ears and necks were adorned with glittering jewels and beads. They had long hair in braids with adornments of gold and silver. Most had eyes like Blythe, large and insect-like, but there were many who used glamour to appear more human. Some lived in a nearby human city and were just used to staying in their glamoured forms. Shade nodded in acknowledgement of Ursad's quick lessons on fey culture, whispered into her ear as they treaded along.

Shade scanned the faces in the crowd for her friends, without any luck. Something about what Ursad had said began to bother her. "Why can some live in human cities and some fey can't?" she asked, thinking about Jack and Soap. She always wondered how they could get away with roaming the iron cites longer than the other fey, even if they were Teleen.

"As you might know, most can't stand the iron in the buildings; it makes them sick. Only a few faeries are immune; most wear extremely strong glamours, like shields, to survive. Being part human helps, and some type of faeries are made to withstand it."

"Like the Teleen faeries?" Shade replied with better of understanding of fey culture.

"Yes, exactly," Ursad answered with a firm nod.

They passed by stands of fresh fruit and vegetables, collecting a bag full of groceries as they went. The day was fading quickly, and the late afternoon sun burned down on them as it was setting behind the houses. Ursad whispered the need to find shelter for the night and said he would take her to one of the local inns for travelers where they could freshen up. She was quiet and nodded again, too in awe of the folks around them to say anything. The air was filled with noise and excitement.

The inn was nestled on the town's main street. Ursad checked in, paying the innkeeper behind a bar counter without so much as a glance from her. She was plump and had her long, red hair bound into a tight bun at the base of her neck. Long strands hung from it, loosened from its tightness from the arduous workday. The rest lay draped down her shoulders and back. Her locks were a fiery red with a touch of orange. Shade had never seen anyone with that color hair, at least not naturally. The woman wore a work apron over her plain-jeweled blue dress. After handing Ursad a key, she waved them toward a set of stairs behind the bar area. Ursad nodded and thanked her, motioning for Shade to follow. They ascended the stairs quickly, before anyone could notice the unusual pair.

Reaching the room, Shade fell against the door as it closed. She sighed, happy to be out of the crowded bar. She had felt like everyone's eyes were staring right at her, even though they probably weren't. She wondered if anyone knew who she was and what she was trying to do. After being ambushed and attacked twice in such a short period of time, she was starting to feel somewhat paranoid. I need to just relax; they probably weren't looking at me and have no idea who I am or what I'm doing.

"You all right, Shade?" Ursad stood by the window, watching the crowds swirling below. He glanced up at her, his green eyes reflecting the last streams of sunlight.

"Yes, I'm fine; just tired, I guess. I was just wondering what happened to my friends. I thought they might have found me by now, but I don't know where they are." She stared at the single bed in the center of the room. Pressing her lips together, she felt the blood rush up to her face. She kept her eyes low and knelt down to rummage through her backpack.

Ursad watched her, a small smile played on his lips. "You can take the bed; I'll sleep on that couch over there." He motioned to the dark green couch with worn and loosely threaded upholstery.

Shade frowned and shook her head at it, almost letting a laugh escape. "Wow... that looks mighty comfy! Not gonna fight you for it, it's all yours, Ursad," she said sarcastically, failing miserably to suppress a laugh.

Ursad rolled his eyes, but his smile widened. Shaking his head, he walked over to the couch, pushed on it to test its strength and laid out on it like a large, lazy lap dog.

Shade continued to laugh and pulled out her pajamas. She headed to the bathroom and shut the door behind her. She'd been tired, but the joking had recharged her. Relaxing her shoulders, she turned to stare at the mirror and study her own thin and pale reflection. The journey was taking a toll; the exhaustion seemed permanently stamped on her face. She was gaunt and thinner than before, making her avert her eyes from the mirror. She didn't like her reflection anymore. Disturbed, she made efforts to avoid it.

It seemed like a chore just to put on her soft flannel pajamas. She suddenly felt drained again. Closing her eyes, she thought about everything and everyone. Ursad had turned out to be a good friend, but she worried about her other friends.

Where are they? Are they even looking for me? Maybe they think I'm dead and have retreated to the Guildrin caverns after all, she thought, almost feeling defeated. And what about Dylan? Her mind pressed with urgency. She wondered if their blood tie affected him when they were separated. She hadn't felt anything at all but hoped he was at least okay. She sighed, feeling a slight ache in her chest for her friends. Even Dylan's annoying presence was missed, making her feel his loss even more.

Shade scratched her head and squeezed her eyes shut. Darn that Blythe! What the hell does she want with me? Shade's eyes flew open, remembering what the Dryad had said about dragging her to the Unseelie's Queen. What did she want with her? They probably wanted the magic of the Santiran fountains for themselves. Why else would they even bother with her? Maybe they just want it to have some sort of advantage over the Guildrin court. Shade moaned, rolling her head around and massaging her neck, easing out some knots.

She looked back at the mirror and felt an odd sense of déjà vu. Reaching her hand out toward the smooth surface made her heart race before she abruptly yanked it back. The mirror did nothing; its hard surface lacked the ripples of Darren's mirror. Nothing but her careworn face stared, but her feelings of shock and fear were evident.

I can't believe I'm afraid of mirrors now. She was scaring herself. Darren was far, far away now. No one knew where she was, especially the one with the powers of mirror travel. He can't hurt me now.

She clicked the door open and walked back into the large room, their sanctuary for the night, dropping her clothes into her bag before walking toward the windows. Ursad must have opened them. A soft breeze poured in, lifting the curtains up like floating ribbons. She could hear the murmur of the crowd outside with a random shout or two every now and then. Shade stood just inside the window, afraid to peek outside. The sweet gusts of air caressed her cheeks, sweeping her now loose hair up into a streaming mass, tickling her neck. Closing her eyes for a moment, she relished the peace in this busy place.

"They wouldn't understand you. You and I have that in common. No one out there understands. We're different, but that makes us the same," said Ursad quietly.

She turned and studied Ursad, who was sitting on the couch watching her. They had yet to turn on the lights in the room, but his emerald eyes shone like two green beams of light. He stared intently into her face as their eyes met. Ursad then stood and walked toward her, but she didn't move from the spot, even when he came face to face with her.

Shade examined his very human hands as they reached up to cup her face. The blood rushed to her face, but she couldn't look away from his piercing eyes. She reached out and stroked the rough, bark-like skin on his face, running her fingers over the bridge of his nose and down over the softness of lips that remained. Glancing up, she took in the very human eyes that were staring back.

He was a man trapped in a shell that was not his. She could feel the deep resonating hunger and fear that ran through him as they touched. Something like sadness filled her inside, like she could feel him drowning inside of himself. She pulled away, searching for air to quench her burning lungs. His intensity was suffocating. Immediately, she felt like she was waking up from a dream. Groggy and confused, she backed into the bed and sat, looking back up at him. Inquiring with her eyes for answers, her head filled with suspicion.

"Ursad, are you using magic on me?" Shade waited, looking at her new companion, hoping to hear something comforting come from his mouth. His head dropped down as his gaze fixed onto the worn floorboards. The grain of wood snarled and wove through every plank, the veins of a long-dead tree. Ursad backed away and slipped onto the couch, his face still and calm.

"I'm sorry, Shade. I couldn't help it. I thought I could make you stay with me back at my place and here, too, but I can see that my magic is not strong enough to work against you. Your power, it pushes against mine so easily. I−I'm so sorry, Shade; I didn't mean to ever harm you in any way. I hope you believe me. I just can't be alone again." His face hung down and his hands came up to cradle it as he sank to the floor.

"Ursad, how could you? What do you mean now and back at your house? What did you do? What have you done?" She glared at him, unmoving and dark. When he didn't respond, she ran over to him, but managed to hold herself back. "What did you do, Ursad? Answer me!" She pulled at his arm, making him look at her once more. Green-tinted tears spilled down his rough cheeks, glinting in the dim light.

"Shade, please don't be mad. I thought you were just a human. I couldn't have known that you were part faery! I would have never tried to trap you if I knew that. That's probably the whole reason it didn't work." His fear leaked into his voice.

"What do you mean? What, exactly, didn't work?" Shade had started to back up now, afraid to know what he would say next.

"When humans enter the land of Faerie, they can be trapped here forever, especially if they eat something, food or drink, from a faery. If the faery who gives a human food or a drink wants them to stay, and the human eats what is offered, they belong to that faery forever, or until the faery lets them go. I thought if you ate my enchanted food, you would not be able to leave, and stay longer... and I wouldn't be alone anymore." Ursad pulled himself up and knelt on the floor before her, grabbing her hand and rubbing his cheek against it. "I swear I would never harm you! You have to believe it, Shade. Please don't go. I just wanted someone to talk to; no one ever looks at me like you do, without disgust, without judgment. I wanted it to stay like that forever."

Shade backed away out of his grasp, pressing against the footboard of the bed as she sank to the floor. Her sobs poured out as she curled up into a tight ball, hugging her legs to herself. He crawled toward her but stopped when she held her hand up and he froze.

"Don't touch me, Ursad." Shade sniffled and wiped her tears on her sleeves. She glimpsed up at him. He was sitting on his knees with his head hanging down, a beaten man. He was hard to figure out, looking small and harmless in his hunched-over defeat. She huffed, wondering what she was going to do. It seemed it wasn't going to stop, all the hell she'd gone through the past week, and it wasn't going to get any better. The tricks, treachery and lies were everywhere. At least Ursad hadn't tried to kill her, but what of his betrayal?

What if it had worked and she had become his slave? She shivered at the thought and held back her last sob. She felt violated and needed time to think. "Are you done then, trying to mess with me?" Shade asked after a few moments. "Like you said, your magic doesn't work, right? You can't keep me here; you don't own me." She wiped off more drops of tears, watching him, and waiting for his answer.

Ursad's eyes were wide with surprise and fear. "Yes, I−I promise; I'm done. I would never try to hurt you. Please understand, it was foolish of me to try any magic on you when you have been so kind to me." He reached into his coat and brought out a soft, baby blue handkerchief. He crept toward her and held it out, trying not to get too close.

Shade snatched it from him and watched him jump back, concern and relief both flashing across his face. "You better not try it again. I can feel it every single time. I guess I am part faery after all." She paused and looked at him before letting out a laugh that made him jump. "It didn't work. So it was for nothing, and I have nothing to fear from you at all." She blew her nose and stood up, frowning as he pulled himself back up onto the couch and sat, wary of her.

"Tomorrow, we're going to the Santiran Fountains, Ursad. From there, you're on your own again. Just take me there and we're done. The maps you showed me, they're correct, right?"

He nodded sadly.

"Okay, then. I want to get some sleep now. So goodnight. "

He nodded again and pulled a blanket from the arm of the couch before lying down and folding his arm for a pillow.

Shade slid down into the sheets and pulled the pillow around her head. She pressed her face into it, wishing she could dig her way into the fluffy feathers of it and fade away into the softness. She reached over and turned off the lamp by the bedside. Staring out into the darkness now covering the windows, she gazed at the soft moonlight, a small beacon from the outside world. The curtains danced in the gusty, warm breeze. It was spring now in Faerie, constantly changing with the hours. She'd never get used to the weirdness of this place.

Drifting off to sleep, she listened to sound of Ursad's slow and rhythmic breathing. Cocooned in her warm blankets, she slipped away into dreams.

Chapter Eighteen

"SHADE."

"Who's there?"

"Shade, it's us, your spirit guides. You must hurry! The Unseelie court moves to stop you. You must get to the fountains tomorrow and retrieve the magic waters quickly!"

"What then? What do I do with it? Where do I go? How do I get back to the Guildrin Caves?"

They smiled at her with their ethereal faces and smooth hair infinitely suspended in midair, like there was a silent unseen wind that blew just for them.

"You will know. Dylan is waiting for you; he needs you, Shade. You and only you can save him."

"Where is he?" Shade furrowed her brow at the sisters, worry permeating her thoughts.

"Just follow your path; it will take you straight to him. Remember, when all is dark, you are your own light. Don't forget the stones Ilarial gave you. They can make a path where none can be seen."

Shade looked at them, her face filled with confusion. Why is it they never made sense? Their faces left no hint of what exactly they meant. She shouted out to them, but her voice was gone. They shook their heads and smiled, waving a goodbye. Shade screamed to them but felt the grey and the darkness grow around her, obscuring them from her sight.

*****

SHADE WOKE WITH a start, her heart drumming in her chest. Her pillow was stuffed and wadded into a ball under her head as she laid on her stomach. She looked around the dark room. The moonlight was dim now, dark grey misted across the room; it was probably near morning. She sat up on her elbows, looking toward Ursad, fast asleep on the small couch by the wall, gently breathing.

The short rays of dawn mixed with moonlight as the minutes ticked by. Stretching, she stood up and shuffled over to the open window. The streets were quiet; only the occasional person with baskets or a pushcart filled with fruit meandered about. The morning market was prepping itself for the needs of many. Shade breathed in and felt a sense of peace filling her with each inhalation. She turned and grabbed her bag before heading to the bathroom.

When she emerged, the soft sunlight filled the windows. She had showered and brushed her long hair into a ponytail. Her fresh jeans and hoodie were worn over a t-shirt to keep the morning chill out. She pulled on socks and sneakers and tied her laces. Shoving everything back into her bag, she glanced at Ursad, still fast asleep on the couch. His soft snores told her that he was definitely out, making her grin and shake her head. She was ready to go, and he was out like a light. It was hard to be angry with him when he looked like that, innocent and peaceful. However, she wasn't ready to forgive what he had done.

She looked at the pile of maps on the small table next to the couch, scooping them up and placing them into her pack. Donning her cloak, she headed toward the door but stopped. She turned and watched Ursad sleeping, dead to the world. Leaving her pack by the door, she approached him, staring at his rough face and soft eyelids. He seemed so calm and almost handsome, deep in sleep and dreaming.

She wondered what he saw behind his lids, in a world that was his alone. She hated to leave him like this, without a goodbye, but she had to go. His intentions had not been honest, and she couldn't tolerate that. Deep in her thoughts, she squeezed her eyes shut. Shade liked him, but felt betrayed by his magic. It hurt that he'd done such things without her knowledge. He could've been so much more than just a friend. Flinging her eyelids open, she knew what she had to do. Bending down, she let her lips glide softly over his still very human-like ones. One lonely kiss for the road.

She stood back and saw that he had not stirred, that he remained oblivious. She silently wished him a goodbye as she left the room. At the door, she swung her pack onto her back and shut the door softly behind her. As it clicked, she never looked back again, but she'd forgiven him after all.

The streets had filled up quickly; she pulled the hood of her long cloak over her face, hiding her hooded sweatshirt and jeans effectively enough. She took a look around and watched the people scurry by, none of them giving her a moment's glance.

Well, I'm alone again. She breathed in deeply and walked toward the edge of town, feeling her newfound determination filling her with purpose.

Shade felt no fear and embraced the anonymity of the crowd. It was a most welcome protection. As their magic swirled around her, she drew it in for comfort. She continued to weave around the people and made it to the edge of town. Walking along the road, she followed it until the town fell out of sight. Now she truly was alone. The gravel crunched under her feet, and the leaves of the trees rustled franticly in the breeze. Pulling out the maps she'd taken from Ursad, a feeling of regret washed over her as she thought about the way she had left. After what he had done to her... no, leaving was the only way she could forgive him. If this whole experience taught her one thing, it was that forgiving wasn't the same as forgetting.

It was time to get a move on. Obviously, this wasn't the kind of place where you make lifelong friends. I've got something more important to do, anyway. She smoothed out one of the maps on a flat boulder that was close to her height. She traced her finger along the road that she had followed out of the town. According to the map, she was heading north toward the mountains. She could see the great mountain peaks just beyond the forest. They seemed to be taunting her, appearing closer than they really were.

Sighing heavily, she folded the maps up neatly and placed them into her backpack. Pulling out an apple and a roll of bread at the same time, she munched on her small breakfast as she walked briskly along the road.

The day wore on, and she stopped frequently, checking the maps and refueling on the many snacks and drinks she carried with her. She made sure to put any garbage back into her bag in a trash bag or bury it. Frequent stopping to listen out to see if anyone was following her ate up the time quickly. She would go many miles on the desolate road before she came across anyone; then she'd crouch behind trees or fallen logs in the tall grasses of the forest floor until they passed. She wondered if any of them had been Ursad. Shade highly doubted it since they all were on carriages or small carts that wheeled on by.

She thought about him constantly and his unfortunate curse, wondering what his real face looked like. She didn't like the fact that she'd left him alone again, especially when they had agreed to travel together. She shook her head. It had been unavoidable. He screwed up. She was not going to have people around her who she couldn't trust completely; not now, when she was in so much danger.

Glancing around the lonely road, she pulled her pack tighter to her back. It was lonelier still without him. Where was everyone? Her thoughts wandered to Sary, Braelynn, Ewan, Stephan, Than, Soap, Jack and Dylan. Somehow, probably because of the blood bind, she knew Dylan was not returning to Teleen without her. He was out here somewhere, with or without her friends. She hoped she'd run into him soon. The forest seemed so vast and lonely without them joking beside her and chatting vibrantly, making her miss them terribly.

A sound made her pause as she listened to the woods. She heard the animals scurrying around and the birds singing high up, hidden in the canopy. Swearing she had heard something, she turned, straining her ears for any little noise. The blue sky above was swallowed by the trees as the branches swayed in the soft breeze. The strong scent of pine and damp mulch swam in the air, circling around and penetrating her nostrils. Nothing showed itself, so she trekked on.

It had happened slowly, but she realized she'd been changing and actually was enjoying the woods. So much had happened to her, she'd barely noticed this subtle difference in her personality. Somehow, though, it was clear she was now different; her life had been altered and would never be the same.

She rubbed her arms in the coolness of the late morning breezes. The altitude grew with each step as she walked toward the mountain range in the distance. I'll have to use Dylan's blanket soon. Already it felt colder as she edged closer to the Santiran Mountains.

As the day wore on, Shade decided not to walk on the gravel road anymore; it was becoming congested with travelers. More traffic could be heard as carts and bands of people shuffled by, heading away from the mountains mostly, in the opposite direction of her. She wondered why there weren't as many people headed toward the mountains. The tension of possibly being seen and not knowing if the others were harmless or trouble was fraying her nerves. She'd hide behind trees until the road emptied and the people passed.

At one point, the road had filled with soldiers, and she'd hidden behind a large fallen tree for about half an hour before she could get moving again. The soldiers wore armor similar to Blythe's army, and the sight of them made her heart jump and her breath tighten inside her chest.

The flashback of the fight in the river lands made her want to vomit. She had to breathe in slowly and close her eyes, praying she wasn't going to be found by this strange militia. Who knew where their loyalties laid? She was relieved when they'd moved on without a moment's glance in her direction. Shade was paranoid after that and dashed between the trees, pausing often to listen for any movement or snap of twigs. Every noise made her jump. It was hard to stay focused; she was starting to feel exhausted as the day wore on. She was about ready to hike farther from the road to camp for the night when she heard something that made her skin crawl.

"That little bitch killed Blythe! When I get my hands on her scrawny little neck, I'm gonna snap it like the twig she is!" a husky male voice echoed through the trees.

"Yeah, and give her a stab for my friend Mike; he died as well. Those warriors were no joke, where did she find them? That red-haired one got me on the shoulder, and the darn stitches hurt! That's okay, though; I knocked her out before she got too much of me. Wish I could've finished her off. Whoever called retreat was a chicken shit," another harsh voice replied.

Shade's eyes widened at the description matching Sary's looks. She gripped her backpack straps until her knuckles were white and her fingers ached in protest, fighting the urge to scream. She wanted to pull out her sword and charge the two soldiers. She closed her eyes and slowed her breathing again, shifting on her legs, which were going numb from crouching too long. Shade cringed as she heard the snap of a twig under her sneaker. She held her breath and waited.

"Hey, did you hear that? What was that?"

"It's probably a squirrel stupid!" the second the soldier snapped.

"Shut up, moron, someone's there," the first solider responded, clearly sounding irritated.

The scratch of metal sliding out of a sheath made Shade swallow hard, her throat tight with nerves. Oh no!

Now they were whispering, so she couldn't hear them any longer. Their careless footsteps crunched on bits of wood and dead mulch under their boots. As their steps grew closer, her panic intensified. She heard them come to a stop, but they didn't speak. They seemed to be waiting for her to betray herself. The wait made her impatient, and she decided to risk peeking over the log to get their position.

She spotted them not too far from her. They were scanning an area to the right, but soon enough, they would be near enough to see her. She glanced behind her, into the endless forest for an escape route.

"There she is! Get her!" they grunted as they turned toward her and began sprinting, dodging other logs and debris. Shade's eyes widened, and she bolted, running as fast as she could through tangled branches, twigs and wet leaves.

"Stop! You're in a lot of trouble! Stop and we won't kill you," one of the men called. He did not sound very convincing.

Yeah, that's gonna make me come to a halt.

She jumped over boulders and logs, occasionally slipping and sliding as the terrain became uneven and full of dips and hills. Falling to her hands and scraping them on twigs and rocks, she felt no pain but was sure it was going to leave marks. She came to a rock bed where the boulders were enormous and bobbed out all across the land. She hopped on the flattened tops, nearly losing her step as her feet slid over the smooth surfaces. Her arms waved in the air, catching her balance just in time before she fell into one of the crevices.

"Get back here you little... Damn! Reike, my foot's caught! Get her!" One soldier was struggling to pull his foot from a crack between two boulders. He waved at his partner to follow her.

Shade glanced back, but was near the end of the boulders when she missed her step and slammed against one side of a large stone. She tried to grip the rugged rock but only scraped her hands as she slipped down into the large hole between the rocks. She slid and slid, down under the boulders until the hole morphed into a tunnel, sending her spiraling down into darkness.

Chapter Nineteen

THERE WAS NOTHING but darkness and silence surrounding her. Shade was face down in the fine, sandy dirt floor. Sparks twinkled in her vision as she moved, causing her to slow down and breath through the wave of dizziness. She must have hit her head when she landed. Moving her arms under her body, she pushed herself into a sitting position, or what felt like it, because the darkness seemed to cancel out her sense of direction. This did not help her stomach. She lurched the last bits of her afternoon snack into the black dirt around her.

Yuck! Shade spit onto the ground, trying to expel the remnants of the nasty taste in her mouth. Breathing in deeply, she sat up again, balancing herself with her hands in the dirt. Bending over to let some more blood rush into her throbbing head, she let her senses normalize. I think need a doctor or something. As the moments passed, the pounding lessened and her stomach settled. She was able to sit straight and fished through all her pockets for the light stone. Finding it in the back pocket of her jeans, she wrapped her hand around it, willing it to life.

The soft glow grew with every breath she took. Her fear subsided just a bit when the light brightened and showed more strength. Holding it in the center of her palm and stretching her fingers straight, it lit the room like a small lantern. The light was dim, but she could see that the room was rounded and made out of stone. Dirt, rocks, and debris littered the floor of the underground cave. She studied the smooth walls all around her, not seeing any exits or cracks in the stone. The ceiling where she was sure she'd come from was sealed and just as smooth as the walls.

What the...? How the hell do I get out of here? How the hell did I get in?

Shade once again scanned the room to no avail. It was like being inside a very hard bubble. She placed the stone in front of her in the dirt, thinking Please, just keep glowing. She prayed as she watched the warm yellow light, her only solace in the dark. She smiled, proud that she'd managed to do some sort of magic. She attempted to stand up and take a better look around, but the floating stars in her vision caused her to kneel back and wait out the dizziness.

After a few moments, Shade felt well enough to stand and was glad she didn't hit her head on the ceiling. Walking along the side of the walls, she felt along the stone, finding it rougher and grainier than the boulders aboveground. The bumps scraped against her already wounded and sore hands. After inspecting every inch of the surface, she was sure there was no way out. Spinning around with her heart pounding in her chest, she felt claustrophobic and frustrated. All kicking the stone wall and punching it with her hands gained her was more pain. Her hands were burning as her closed fists irritated her excoriated palms. Shade slumped to the floor, leaning against the cold rock. She hugged her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth until sobs shook her body and her tears soaked her cheeks. Her cries echoed in the cool, still air. She could smell the dampness and mold intermingled within it.

The time ticked by, and she didn't know how long she had rocked herself, but it was long enough for her tears to dry up, staining her dirty cheeks. Even her hands had stopped throbbing. She pulled off her pack and dug through it for some water, hoping that afterward, she might be able to think more clearly. Her ravenous chewing on a small snack filled the emptiness for a moment or two. She wished her spirit guides were still with her and giving her advice. She wondered why the attack had caused her to expel them along with Darren. She rubbed her arms and felt a chill run down her entire body. Pulling out Dylan's warm blanket, she wrapped it around her until just her eyes were visible from its within folds. The warmth provided by the blanket was instant, and her eyes were drooping with drowsiness, heavy with sleep.

Feeling the solitude pressing on her, Shade breathed in the faint scent of Dylan's skin on the blanket. She sighed and watched her light stone glow softly in the dark. What now? She pulled out her sleeping bag from her tent and laid it on the soft dirt. Setting her pillow down, the exhaustion overwhelmed her body, and her bones ached from the events of the day. She hadn't realized how tired she'd become after being chased through the forest. Wrapping the blanket around once more, she drifted to sleep, hoping to find someone, even in her dreams.

*****

SHADE'S EYES FLUTTERED open, adjusting to the blue flickering light in the room as it intermittently broke up the darkness. The rock seemed to bounce the glow around and reflect the blue coloring. She blinked again and sat up, confirming that she was still in her stone dungeon. Realizing her light stone wouldn't be as bright as the glow shining in the cave, she rubbed away the sleep from her eyes and looked around.

Did someone just call my name?

"Shade! It is you! I knew you were close but I never thought that you would be here!" a male voice said, filled with relief and eagerness. She stared at the figure; electricity crackled and flames radiated from him like a torch. She stood up quickly, wavering for a moment, eyes wide in disbelief.

Dylan! It was Dylan, without glamour, aglow in the most amazing blue fire swimming along his skin. It licked the air around him.

"Dylan? How did you get here? How did you find me?" Her eyes scanned him, waiting for his still-familiar face to change into someone else. Her heart leapt with the utmost happiness at the sight of him. She smiled and tried to stand until a sway of dizziness changed her mind.

"I don't know. I came along an ancient riverbed with enormous boulders throughout it. I was compelled to be there, and I'd been tracking you for a while. I can feel when you've been in a place, almost like I'm experiencing a feeling of déjà vu. It felt so strong there, but I didn't even know where to look. Suddenly the land opened up and sucked me down between the boulders and, here I am. That's never happened to me before, definitely a first." He paused, beaming at her. "I was meant to find you. I can't even explain it. It's the weirdest thing to fall and be right here with you. No, wait, don't get too close; you might get burned." Shade retracted her hand, just realizing she'd been reaching out to him.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

He smiled and nodded. "It's ok. You know how we look without the glamour to encase our true bodies. If you were to touch me, I could hurt you."

Shade pressed her lips together, confusion flashing across her face. "Darren touched me when he was unglamoured, like you are now, and I didn't get burned. I asked Soap and Jack about it, and they had no answers for me. It makes me think that I might not be harmed if I do touch you." She admired his flames and took in his handsome face.

It was a mask of shock as he shook his head. "I don't know about that, Shade. Maybe it was a trick of his. He could do so many things with mirrors that would make you believe things were real, when they were really just illusion. He was a genius at that." Dylan's face was grim at the thought of his brother.

"No, I know because he was shocked when I didn't burn. He said that much. And I saw it in his eyes." Her eyes glazed over with the memory of the malice that had been stamped on Darren's face. He had been filled with so much pleasure when he'd seen the fear wash over her. She looked at Dylan and almost expected to see Darren standing before her. They were similar in appearance, but even as brothers, they didn't exactly look alike. They certainly didn't behave the same way.

"Well, if you must, Shade, I will tone the flames down. Then you can touch my skin with just a finger. That way it won't hurt you too much. Deal?"

She nodded and watched his flames shrink back into just embers glowing across his skin. She studied it and watched how his skin looked smooth and untouched under the heat. He watched her as she walked forward, extending her arm and hand up toward him. They both held their breath as she reached her finger up to his skin and slowly ran it up his arm. Dylan was still holding his breath when her soft touch reached him, seeming to freeze time.

Nothing... is happening. He felt warm, not hot. There was no pain, flying ash, or fear. She extended the rest of her fingers out to brush his forearm. His flames extended to full glow, and she remained unscathed. She brought her hand back and studied it. Dirt and drying scrapes peppered the skin across her hand but no burns or soot. She looked at Dylan, who was as stunned as she was. He was observing her intently, making her suddenly aware of his closeness.

"Dylan, nothing happened. What am I? Why am I protected from your fire?" She stared at him, awaiting an answer.

Dylan seemed to come back into himself, shaking off whatever was holding him in his thoughts. Gazing at her, he shook his head. "I-I don't know, Shade. I wish I knew. There are so few who can do what you just did, so very few. Most are just Teleen, but you...." He kept his head shaking back and forth in disbelief. "Amazing," he whispered and then looked back at her, a smile now hiding the seriousness of his face.

"Do you know what that means, Shade? You could marry a Teleen. You could, without difficulty, find a mate within our court. Being a female, you have no idea how rare you are, and how well you shall be received."

"What? I don't want to get married. Well, at least not yet. Where did that come from? I-I'm just a kid; why would I even think of that yet?" She huffed, flustered at his statement. "Dylan, what do you mean there are so few who can do what I did? Do you mean the not getting burned part? Who else besides a Teleen can do that?" She waited and watched his smile fade just as fast as it had come.

"Our race is dying out, Shade. We can only marry another Teleen and very few of us are able to have children. Only another race compatible with us would help strengthen our line. Our clan dies otherwise. The only other races of faeries that would even be compatible with us, strong enough to withstand our powers, are even rarer than the Teleen."

"Who are these people?" she asked impatiently. The look on his face was definitely disapproving that she'd even asked him.

"Changelings, for one thing, or elementals of fire, such as fire-witches. Finding someone like that is so rare. I have only known of one changeling and one elemental fire-witch ever, and they were paired already." He paused, narrowing his eyes at her. "Do you know if you are either of those, Shade?"

"Me? No, no way. If I am, I wouldn't know it. I mean, what's a changeling and an elemental witch? How would I know which one I am, if I am one of those?"

"Well," he offered, "a changeling is simple; they're capable of changing into anything they want to. Human, bear, squirrel, different types of fey, like Teleen, Enlors, which are sprites, or Gidals, which are trolls. Anything really. It's a rare ability, like I said. An elemental fire-witch is, well, a human mortal witch--in every meaning of the word--but with an affinity to fire. They can control it, wave it around, and send it roaring across a forest. Whatever you can imagine doing with it, they can do it. They can cast spells, charms, curses and things of that nature. There are many kinds of witches, Shade, but rare is it to find elemental witches. They're special." His face darkened as his eyes met hers.

"Shade, if my people knew that you could be one of these kind of special individuals, especially since Darren exposed it with his attack, I have to warn you and let you know that upon returning to Teleen, all unmated, unmarried males in my race will be courting you for your attention. You'll probably be bombarded by them, pushed to choose one of them for a mate."

"What? Oh no, no, no. They can't make me do anything. I won't choose anybody. I won't be staying there at all. I wouldn't return there after what happened, and besides, I'm going home."

Dylan nodded and sighed. "Yes, Shade, of course you will want to go home. But I must warn you: even at home, you will not be left alone. Teleen men are relentless. Our Queen will not stop them, either, not until you choose one of them as your mate. Only then will it be ordered by our Queen to leave you alone. It is vital for the survival of our people. I'm sorry, Shade. At the very least, I had to warn you before that happens."

Shade let her face screw up in disgust. Marriage was the least of her worries. She wished he hadn't said a thing about it at all. She turned and slumped down onto her sleeping bag again. She still felt tired and now irritated on top of it all. She stared up at the ceiling, lit up in Dylan's glow. The whole cave was flickering in the light. There was still no sign of a way out. She pulled the blanket over her head and curled up into a ball.

"Dylan, how are we getting out of this place? I looked everywhere. I don't even see where I came in! What is this place? I feel claustrophobic, and it's cold down here." She closed her eyes and waited.

"It's a place to forget oneself or forget about someone. It's either a blessing or a curse, depending how you look at it. This cave is one of the ancient prisons of Faerie. People were left here for years to forget about themselves, wither away or to emerge fresh, with a clean slate. It's an immortal's dungeon, or oubliette, Shade. I am surprised you stumbled across one; usually it can trap only immortals." He paused. She listened to the silence, waiting for him to continue while pondering his words. "It does make me wonder why you are down here. You must be immortal then, to end up in such a place. You could be a powerful changeling for all we know."

"Who gets people out of these things? Who made them? Was it the Unseelie?" she muttered. She felt her eyes become heavy with sleep, rubbing them as she struggled to stay awake.

"No. As I said, this room could be used as a prison but not always. It can be a safe place, you know, like when you're being pursued and you need to seek a sanctuary. No one gets people out of these places except for the faery who put you here. In your case, it's you. You must will it so yourself-to escape, I mean; you must get us out here, Shade."

She thought of his last words as she drifted off to sleep.

What a bunch of crock.

Chapter Twenty

SHADE WOKE UP in darkness yet again. She heard soft breathing across the room. Was she still in the oubliette? The cool, damp air confirmed her disappointment as she sat up, pulling the blanket down from her head. She felt around for her light stone, which sat cold and dormant in the center of the room where she had left it. Grasping it, she reignited it. Her eyes focused in the dim light as it grew. She watched the bundle that was Dylan softly sleeping. He wasn't aglow anymore; he must have slipped his glamour back on like a robe before bed.

She set the light stone down again, wondering if she should wake him and also how long she had slept. She didn't know what day or time it was anymore. It could have been hours or minutes and she wouldn't even know it down here in the dark, dank bowels of the earth. Her cell phone was long dead, since she hadn't charged it recently. She leaned against the smooth stone and thought about everything they had spoken about before she'd let sleep win her over... had it been the night or day before?

Shade felt bad for doubting Dylan, but he didn't make much sense to her half of the time. She was glad that she wasn't alone down here anymore but pondered the subject of escape. Just will it so? What the heck was that about? Like, tell the stone to open up and let me out kind of thing? Shade thought with frustration. She was pretty sure she hadn't asked to be placed here, at least not on purpose.

She stood up again and shook her head. Oh, whatever, this entire place doesn't make any sense. Changelings, witches, faeries and whatever the hell else pops up. She wondered how much of the world she'd grown up in was real at all. It seemed like none of it was; it was just a lie, just a façade that the fey had played on all of humankind. They probably got a good laugh out of it all the time. Oh, what dumb humans they are, can't figure out that more than half their land isn't even on their maps because it's ours. We can do whatever the heck we want, and they don't know any better. Idiots!

She kicked the wall again, but not hard enough to hurt her foot. It did force her to grunt, though. She thumped her back against the wall, groaning.

"You all right there? The wall isn't going to kick you back, you know. It didn't really do anything to you, anyway." Dylan had his hands behind his head while he remained lying, head up and staring at her, grinning.

"Oh, shut up. How do we get out? We need to get out, like yesterday, Dylan! How do we do it?" She stared at him, huffing out her anger as she marched back to her sleeping bag. She shook it out violently and stuffed it into her bag. Pulling out her canteen, she gulped down the cool drops of water. She tossed her bag to the side as she sank down to the ground, feeling the tears sting her eyes. Darn it if she was going to give Dylan any more signs of her current breakdown. She just couldn't take the mortification.

Dylan sighed and stretched out. He stood up and held his hand out to her. "Come on, we gotta go." He waited as she stared back up at him, tears still pooling in her eyes. She took his hand and stood up, swinging her pack onto her back as she followed him over to the smooth walls of stone. "Now, to leave these prisons, one must believe in impossibility. Lay your hands on the stone and think. Think about the mountains you saw before you got here and the fountains. Wish your way out. Make a road in your head that will lead you to the place you want to go, and it will happen. Make a way for yourself, for us."

Shade studied his face, feeling a prick of hope mixed with disbelief as he spoke. She licked her lips and did as he told her. Closing her eyes, she wished the stone would open and let her out into the sunlight, into the wilderness she so longed to see again. She prayed and wished as hard as she could, caressing the cool rock and waiting for the stone to do something under her dirty fingers.

Nothing.

Shade opened her eyes and frowned at the rock. She looked over at Dylan and shook her head. "Nothing's happening, Dylan. What if we're stuck here forever?" She stared at the curved wall, wanting a way out where there was none. She sucked her breath in. "Wait!" She'd just remembered something and grabbed her pack, rummaging through it frantically. She pulled out the rune stones Ilarial had given her. She held them in her gritty hand and stared at the symbols. How was she supposed to know what she had to do with them? Ilarial said they would help me find my way when there is none, but how? She stared at them and closed her eyes, silently praying for a way out of the oubliette.

"Shade! Something's happening!" Dylan pulled her out of her thoughts. She glanced around to find the rock fading in front of them with a soft rumble. The bubble was no longer a bubble but extending into an elongated hall. It grew longer into the earth until it reached the top of the soil. Steps formed out of the smooth rock, and sunlight gradually began streaming in through dirt. Roots dangled down from the forest floor.

The walls stopped rumbling, and the ground stilled. She looked over to Dylan as they now stared down the small corridor to the stairs. She smiled and looked at him as he reached back, grabbing his cloak and her light stone from the ground. He tossed the stone to her as they walked up the stairs. "Way to go, Shade. See, you just have to believe in yourself."

"It worked! Ilarial gave me these rune stones that would help me out when I needed it. I didn't even do much but wish for there to be a way out. Wow, it's amazing Dylan!" They both shouted with glee as they scurried up each step.

The sun bore down on them like a spotlight in their faces. Shade's eyes cramped in pain as they adjusted to the bright sunlight. She blinked and shaded her eyes with her hands, looking about. They were no longer in the river of boulders but at the base of the Santiran mountain range. She pulled herself up and out of the hole in the ground with Dylan just behind her. The ground seemed to swallow up the darkness of the prison as they watched it close. Only grass and leaves lay where the exit used to be. She bent to touch the patch of grass and dirt. It felt firm and undisturbed.

"Look, Dylan!" She pointed up the massive wall of mountain. "It's the Santiran Mountain! We must be so close to the fountains! We're almost there!" She walked with a little skip in her step, almost bursting with anticipation. She'd find the magic waters of the Santiran fountains, and then she'd be that much closer to going home.

Home. Going back to her snotty-nosed brothers and bratty sister; she missed them so much her heart ached in her chest. She'd be able to hug her mother again. She wanted to run up the mountain as fast as possible; she could barely contain herself.

Dylan grabbed her arm and tugged hard. She was about to curse him out when he pressed a finger to his lips and pulled again for her to follow him. Her eyes widened as she strained to hear what he heard. She followed him behind a boulder near a dip in the mountain's side, almost like someone had taken a scooper and scooped out a chunk of the rocky base. She wasn't sure she liked being inside the hollowed stone, but whatever Dylan had heard had tripped his alarms at full force.

"What is it, Dylan?" Shade whispered. She was about to ask him again, when she heard it. Murmurs of voices seemed to dance off the rock walls and made her turn her head in all directions to discover which way they were coming from. Maybe this hiding spot was not such a good idea. The voices grew louder and echoed even more, like they were hitting a concaved amplifier.

They waited quietly, barely breathing in fear of discovery. The voices continued to dance around them, as they would in a crowded arena. She knew they were coming from the side they would have to follow to get to the fountains. She gritted her teeth with impatience, willing the men to move along already.

When the murmurs faded away, Dylan peeked over his shoulder at her and nodded his head in the same direction as the voices. The strangers were going where they needed to be. Shade nodded in agreement, but the pit in her stomach flipped with anxiety. She wasn't sure how many people might be waiting for them around the bend. How many Unseelie were guarding the mountain?

They found the path deserted. They were breathing out sighs of relief as they crept out silently up the gravelly path. They climbed the rocky path, slipping frequently from the loose dirt. They eased their way up the mountain, the altitude shifting into thinner and cooler air. The view was breathtaking, with emerald green treetops. The forest spread out for miles. The mountains stood tall, like a row of kings standing around the valley and framing the forest with their embrace. Shade took it in and smiled, finding nature beautiful even in her current situation. Again, she felt as if she'd changed somehow. The woods felt alive all around, as if breathing in the air along with her.

A cool breeze caressed them as they ascended. The forest began to grow again as thick as it had been in the valley below. The mountainous path turned into a narrow crevice as they slid through one by one. Inside was a plateau cove, green and partly shaded by the mountain. Trees stood in all sizes around the path that led to the other side of the cove's rock walls, where a carved opening stood in a shadow that never reached the sun's rays.

Shade followed Dylan, taking refuge in the shrubs and tree trunks that kept them hidden from the sight of the two soldiers; they were both standing casually by the entrance. The men were chatting loudly and hadn't noticed the intrusion. Shade snickered, sure the Unseelie queen would not be happy with the help around here. Dylan glared at her, warning her to be quiet.

He studied them and then sank back down to a hidden crouch. "I only see the two guards. The Santiran fountains are inside that darkened doorway. If we can get through them, we should be all right. It seems that they weren't expecting us to be here at all." He paused, furrowing his brow in deep concentration. "Unless, of course, it's a trap." He bit on his lip, furrowing his brow again in thought.

"How are we going to take on two guards?" She glanced over at them. They didn't even have their helmets on. They were the same height with the same color and length of hair, blonde strands that hit their shoulders. They were tossing jokes back and forth and giving each other friendly pushes and punches. As she looked closely, she could see that they were identical twins.

Great, double the trouble. How am I going to take on two husky guards? She squatted back down and out of sight, glancing at Dylan with worry spread across her face. "I'm not a fighter. I haven't learned enough to take on one of these guys. They're each as huge as a house! They could crush me with a finger!" She took a deep breath, attempting to calm her nerves.

"Shh, it's all right; you can distract them, and I'll take them out. They won't know what hit them." He smiled and began pulling out his weapons, unsheathing his sword and draping a rope across his chest and shoulders. She watched him prepare, her face contorted in horror.

"You mean I'll be the bait? Wait a minute. I don't know; that doesn't sound very promising. You might as well mark me for death. What do I say? How do I distract those two big buffoons? They don't look that smart, but who needs brains with brawn like that?" Shade rambled on nervously. She wrung her hands over and over, feeling almost faint with anxiety. She grasped Dylan's tunic as he started to leave.

"Hey, don't worry. You have to trust me a little, Shade. I've done this before, many times. I was captain of the Teleen Guard, remember? One doesn't become captain by letting their wards get killed." He snickered but stopped, catching her daggered look. "Calm down, just prance out there and act like some lost little maiden who needs their help. They will fall for it, believe me. Just act dumb, shouldn't be too hard." He laughed quietly but stopped again when she threw another nasty glare at him. He turned and started to move, keeping cover in the trees, until Shade could no longer see him.

Shoot, shoot, shoot! She looked again around the tree she was hiding behind and watched the twins. They were still cackling at each other's jokes. Okay, Shade, you know you have to; sometimes we have to do what we don't want to. Just get it over with already!

She crept closer to the twins. Peeking at the guards made her stomach twist in a bad way. Taking a deep breath, she stood up straight, fixing her hair as best as she could. She put her most convincing clueless face on, including a broad smile. She then walked straight into their line of sight.

"Um, excuse me, boys, but do you know where the nearest town is? I've done gone and got myself lost. Would either one of you gentlemen care to show me which way to go?" She batted her eyes at them in the girliest way she could think of. Flipping her hair back, she didn't think she looked irresistible, but she'd figured what the hell, it's worth a shot.

"Stay put there, miss. Andre, grab her and make sure she ain't got no weapons." Draden waved at his brother. They were immediately at full alert and converted into the soldiers they were trained to be. Shade swallowed hard and stiffened but recovered almost immediately, trying to act like it was no big deal.

"Oh, come on now, boys, why would a little lass like me be carrying around a weapon? I wouldn't touch those filthy things if you paid me. It would ruin my nails." She curled her fingers into her palm, hoping they wouldn't notice her dingy and short cuticles. She cranked up her smile and flashed her eyes at the approaching guard again, the one named Andre. He crouched by her and signaled her to hold her arms up as he did a quick sweep of her sides and yanked her pack from her back. She was about to protest but decided that silence would be the safest choice. She hoped the glamour charm Dylan had waved onto her pack was good enough to hide all her stuff, especially the weapons.

"I don't see any, Draden. She's got nothing but makeup, a brush and some clothes in this thing." He tossed it back to her, and she caught it as it whacked her chest. She frowned but slipped it back on, widening another smile across her face, twirling her hair. It dangled from her ponytail and flew about like a wispy halo around her face. She waited, observing the other guard, who was squinted his suspicious eyes at her and frowning.

"What's your name, girl?" Draden approached her with his sword drawn. Shade held her breath as he came up to her, bending his head down to meet her eye to eye. With the cold stare of ice blue eyes, he appeared more menacing than his twin. His long blond hair was pulled in a loose braid and dangled partially in his face. Up close, his face was worn with years of hard fighting; deep lines creased his eyes and mouth and stubble grew, sprinkled across his skin. His twin looked just as hard, but maybe not as cold. She swallowed and wondered how to answer this big man with his sword pointed right at her. She took a breath, staring back into the warrior's eyes.

"My name is Alice, Alice Coleman. I'm sorry, I must have interrupted something. I'll just leave then and go along my merry way. I really didn't want to impose or anything." Draden, pressed his sword into her clavicle, cut her off. She stepped back, but he grabbed her arm to stop her. She felt her panic rush over her.

Where the hell is Dylan?

"I don't believe you." He pressed the blade a little more, and her skin burned with the tiny cut. She held back a cry and stared back at him, anger spilling across her face as she clenched her lips together.

"I don't care what you think. I said I'll be on my way now." She continued to stare and waited, since he did not let up on his grip. He glared back and seemed to ponder her face, stamping it into his memory. She wondered if he would actually hurt her or even kill her. She didn't want to find out, but her impatience grew with every second.

She decided to chance another step backward. Slowly she retreated, but watching him dart his eyes just a moment made her pause. He continued to press the sword into her but did not push it in any further. She stared at his eyes and willed him to drop the sword. She beckoned with her eyes, like a silent prayer. She felt her magic swirl within her, inside her heart, spinning around like a mirror ball and growing with each moment. It felt like a breath flowing out of her, up to her wound and down the sword Draden held firmly in his hands.

The moment it touched him, she saw him waver. He looked away, down at the sword and back up to her face. His face fell, eyes widening and fear creeping up into his icy stare as his eyes darted from the sword to her, and back again. Finally, he stepped away, relenting, letting his sword slide down until it grazed the soil and hung slack in his hand.

"What did you do? How did you... who are you?" He stepped away, and his firm stare met her gaze, mixed with confusion and suspicion. "Who sent you?"

Shade licked her lips and watched him as he backed away. Andre approached with his sword in hand but halted with a wave from Draden. The dominant brother was obvious to her. She hoped that whatever had just happened would save her.

"Drop your swords, or we will not stop. She will churn your insides into pulp, and she will not hesitate." Dylan had two swords readied and crept up behind the twins, cautiously poking them in their backs simultaneously. They both froze, surprise and anger spilled across their faces. Draden glanced at Dylan and then back at Shade, seemingly contemplating the situation, probably pondering their chances against them.

Whatever magic had filled him from Shade had gotten the best of him. He dropped his sword and straightened, holding his head up and puffing his chest out in some male attempt at superiority. Andre followed suit and dropped his sword, hands in the air for surrender.

"Shade, tie them up, and hurry; I don't know when their replacements could show up." Shade hurried over, kicking the dropped swords out of reach and grabbed the spool of rope Dylan handed over to her. She took the slim ropes and walked over to Draden. "Ok, tell your brother to turn his back into that tree there, and you can back into it, too. Stand next to him with your arms behind you."

Draden glared at her with tense lips and hard eyes. She waited patiently, not letting his stare creep into her again or letting any fear slip out. He did what she said and waited as his brother walked over and turned around behind him. Shade snickered and hastily tied the ropes around their wrists. She silently thanked her mom for those scout campouts where tying knots was a requirement to earn those nifty badges her mom would carefully sew onto her uniform vest. She still had that vest, hanging neatly in her closet.

Once she had them tied, she directed them to a tree where she wrapped the remainder of the rope around them several times, as tightly as she could get it without cutting off circulation to their bodies. She knotted the ends securely. She looked at the brothers and beamed with satisfaction.

"I know what you are. You're a changeling. Only changelings can send magic into others to make them weaker. I met one once. He's dead now. He was powerful, though. You will never be that strong." Draden sighed and looked down at the ground, pensive and serious. "You look like him, though; your father, I mean."

Shade stopped him, her face frozen in surprise. "What did you say? Who are you talking about?"

Draden snapped his head up and watched her face, smirking.

"What are you smiling at?" She felt anger flush over her face, but she tried to contain it, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

"You don't know, do you? You didn't even know you were a changeling. How'd you do it, then? Wild magic flows through you like a cancer; he had the same powers. I could help you, you know. I knew your father. He was a powerful man. I was his second in command for centuries until he died and that crazy queen took over." The husky man squirmed in the ropes, grimacing and obviously trying to loosen the ties. Shade was no longer smiling, but at least there was no way in hell he could break loose.

She turned to look at Dylan. He was standing nearby, his dual swords ready in hand. He was not as sure as she was that the rope would hold. His lips were firm, straight and almost colorless. His eyes furrowed in concentration, contemplating what the soldier had said. "Don't listen to them, Shade. He's trying to trick you and delay us. Let's go to the fountain before someone else shows up." He brought the swords down, turned and motioned for her to follow.

Draden's eyes widened, seeing the two of them walking away. He fidgeted again and yelled after them. "I swear it's the truth, girl. I know things you need to know. I was his second in command. Your father would have wanted you to know these things. Stop!"

Shade turned her head, still following Dylan and glanced back at the brawny warrior. His wild eyes watched her intently, waiting for her to turn back. She shook her head and looked away. She had a strange feeling that the soldier was telling the truth. If not, he was an excellent liar. A part of her wanted to go back and ask the warrior so many questions, but she knew it wasn't the right time.

The doorway to the fountains lay in shadows. They stepped into the darkness and waited as their eyes adjusted to dim light. Following Dylan and activating her light stone, she grimaced at the stone walls. Another cave. Great, thought Shade.

Just as she thought that, a light shone through another doorway, making her realize the hall they were in was more of a semi-circle. It led to an open courtyard in the shape of a full moon. Here in the middle of the mountains, the sun streamed down above the sharp cliffs that reached up to the sky. Shade drew in her breath, amazed at the sight; hidden from any prying eyes was a vast, rich garden. It was large, and the sound of water trickled and gurgled all around them. The grass was a brilliant, glowing green with the most brilliantly colored flowers and vines weaving throughout it.

The air was moist and warm here; it felt akin to being in a large greenhouse, like one she'd visited in her childhood with her father. It had contained an immense glass dome as a ceiling and held in butterflies and birds of all types. The warm mist felt much the same and made her want to curl up under a tree and take a nap. It was a piece of untouched land that seemed to be heaven on earth.

They stood in awe of the sights. Dylan motioned her forward again and broke her out of her thoughts. She followed but was stunned by the beauty of the place. Near the middle of the garden, they came upon what looked like a massive natural fountain, made of rock and crystals of every color. The crystals glinted and parted the light into beams of rainbow all around the fountain, making it hard to look at because the jewels shimmered so brightly.

Dylan stopped. He reached into his pack and pulled out a glass flask with a stopper. He held it out to Shade, signaling for her to take it. "Here, I can't touch the waters, but you can. Take this and fill it. Then we will be done."

Shade took the flask and smiled. Excitement hummed through her veins as she approached the fountain. She paused at the edge and stared down at the glowing crystals. The water swelled around them and trickled down the rock, spraying up a slight mist of warm water. She wondered what made it so special; it looked like water, plain water. The fountain itself was impressive, but that's where it ended.

She licked her lips and took the stopper out of the flask, dipping it into the warm embrace of the water. She let it fill as it bubbled up around her hand. She felt the magic stir. As she immersed her arm in the water, the magic seemed to intensify. She felt it crawl up her arm and deep into her core. Her eyes widened as the euphoria overwhelmed her.

Shaking her head to clear it and think better now that the flask was full, she pulled the flask out to examine it. Rainbows swirled in the glinting sunlight inside of the glass. She felt the cool liquid run down her arm and drip onto the moist earth below. The dirt vibrated with life as green vines and leaves sprouted at every drop and reached for the sunlight. She smiled, enjoying the euphoric feeling and peace all at once. She realized she was glowing, reflecting light off the pool of water. It felt amazing.

"Shade? Are you okay?" Dylan's eyes were wide in concern. His face appeared paralyzed in shock and disbelief. She looked up at him and smiled, nodding as she pushed the stopper into the flask.

"That was amazing, Dylan! I feel like someone just jolted me awake with a million double shot espressos; I feel great!" Shade laughed and hopped back to where Dylan stood, drying her arm on her hoodie. He approached her and smiled, watching her illuminated face and feeling the warmth spill onto him. He reached out and touched her cheek, sliding his fingers over her skin, the vibrating magic spilled onto his skin too. His hand glowed and the light crept over him as it did her. They stood in a cocoon of light and peace.

He laughed and smiled at her. Her smile was contagious. Her cherry red lips seemed to beckon him, and her dreamy honey eyes seemed to pull him into the deep abyss of her soul. He moved closer, cupping her face. Bending forward, his lips brushed against hers, warm and soft, sending Shade's heart sighing in bliss. A feeling of drunkenness filled him, as though he had been empty and now was filling up to the brim. He gave in to the embrace, letting it swim around them like honey dripping off the trees and leaves around them, imprisoning them in a bubble of swirling magic. He wanted to kiss and hold her forever.

"There they are! We have you surrounded! Drop your weapons!"

The shout jerked them back to the garden and the trickling water. Dylan spun and stared at the squad of soldiers pouring in through the door in the rock wall and fanning out to surround them.

"Drop your weapons, or we will be forced to kill you, warrior. We only want the girl with the flask of water. Give her to us, and we will let you live." The leader stared at Dylan's swords, now loose and unsheathed, held in a fighting stance. The captain of this band shook his head and laughed. "You can't win; we outnumber you, young man. Drop the swords."

"Sir, I can't locate the twins. It's like they've disappeared. I found pieces of their armor, but they're nowhere to be found. Maybe the little witch dispatched them before we arrived. I've heard strange things about her, sir." The captain waved the subordinate away, furiously shaking his head.

"Don't be stupid! Just as well. We'll assume they're dead. Now, secure the girl and let's get back to the palace before dark. The Queen will be most pleased. Move in!" The circle of soldiers began to press in on them.

Shade turned to watch the soldiers closing in on them and backed into Dylan, her hands clasped around the bottle. Her eyes darted nervously at the soldiers. "What now, Dylan? There's no way out! We're trapped!" She bit her lip as the fear spilled over the fading euphoria.

"It's all right, Shade. Listen to me, and do just what I say. Hold onto me. I'm going to drop my glamour and call my powers." Shade looked up at him, eyes wide in terror.

"What are you gonna do?"

"I'm going to call my power of lightning. When I discharge it, the first ring of soldiers will drop with the shock. Hold onto me tightly; I have to control it so it doesn't go too wide and fry the garden. Come on!"

Shade shook her head as she turned into him, letting his arms embrace her tightly. "I-I don't know if this is a good idea. What if I get electrocuted, too?" She trembled in his grip. Dylan looked down at her and smiled softly.

"Believe, Shade. I believe since you are able to touch me, you are immune to my powers. It will be all right." He whispered the last words and hugged her tightly. They closed their eyes as the blue flickers of fire crackled over his skin. The next thing she knew, she felt the bolt of energy discharge from his body, like a small earthquake vibrating through her. The bolt snapped and sent a thunderous boom around them. When it was done, just a moment later, she peeked around his chest to see that the first ring of soldiers surrounding them were down, most knocked out while others moaned in distress.

"It worked, Dylan!" She stopped as she watched the next wave of soldiers creep in, stepping over the others cautiously and staring at the pair of them in disbelief.

"Damn it! It's a blasted Teleen; grab the lightning rods from the armory stash now! We've got to control the lightning before we can overpower him!" The captain's face was beet red and sweat beaded on his face as he fumbled back from the fallen ones. "Hurry up!" he yelled.

The soldiers stood back as they waited for the rods to be handed out.

"Lightning rods? Dylan, what are they gonna do with the rods?" Shade turned around and watched the soldiers pass stacks of rods around the group.

Dylan breathed in and shook his head. "The rods will render me powerless; they will draw my power into the rods and leave me harmless. We've got to get out of here now." He spun around and watched the soldiers gear up and advance again. He then turned to Shade and looked down into her shining brown eyes.

"Shade, listen to me. There's a legend that says the holder of the water of the Santiran Fountains can use it to wish for anything they want, just once, and it will be granted by the water's magic. Now I'm going to hold onto you, and you try to think as hard as you can of the Guildrin forest and imagine being back there once more, got it?"

"Yes, but, there's no freakin' way that will work!"

Dylan re-sheathed his swords, pulled her into his embrace and smiled. "I guess we'll find out. Now wish us home, Shade. Do it now!"

Shade closed her eyes, feeling the soldiers' auras vibrating around them and closing in. She breathed in, thinking of Queen Zinara, Ilarial and her newfound friends. She visualized the steps leading down to the Guildrin living quarters, the only place she had ever felt safe in Faerie.

Dylan's arms felt warm and strong around her, and she only hoped he would continue to hold her this way. She wished him safe; herself and the others too. Unscrewing the cap of the flask, she whispered her thoughts into the bottle she had grasped tightly in her hands. She felt Dylan's lips on her head, warm and firm as she wished them all back home safe, as hard as she could.

A peaceful feeling washed over them like a crashing wave. In just that instant, yelling and cursing blew up around them, followed by an intense silence. The sound of tree leaves rustling and birds chirping in the slight breeze made Shade open her eyes. They stood by the great tree to the Guildrin Court as if they never had left. She gasped, looking up at Dylan.

"You did it! Oh man, you did it, Shade! We're home!" Dylan jumped and hopped about, hollering out his joy. Returning to her and lifting her up with his arms, he swung her around. Shade breathed in with relief. A moment later, another whoosh sounded around them. The entire gang stood there, looking startled and shocked.

"Oh, wow!" She ran and hugged the tall sorceress Braelynn and turned to embrace them all one by one. Hot steaming tears streamed down her cheeks. Every one of them was there. Everyone but Sylphi had returned, just as she had wished. They were all shocked and surprised but intact and safe. Shade did not ponder very long about where Sylphi had gone. Shade wasn't missing her.

"What just happened? We're home! How the...? What the...?" Soap was spinning around, looking at the landscape, absolutely petrified. Shade ran, hugged him tight and pulled back an inch to see his face. He grinned back to her and nodded. "This can only mean one thing. You did it; you actually did it, and without us to aid you, at that! You made it to the fountains, didn't you? Incredible; how did you do it? How did you get us all home? One minute we were searching for you around the base of the Santiran mountains; we had just picked up your trail, and now here we are, home sweet home." He sighed and hugged her again even tighter.

"Okay, let go; I can't breathe!" she cried happily. He let go abruptly but caught her as she stumbled backward.

"Sorry!" He grinned and laughed. She laughed along with him, feeling elated.

"Do you have the water, then?" Shade nodded at Sary, who had worked her way up to her. "You did it, Shade. You saved our people!" Sary hugged her and joined the laughter.

"Let's go home, everyone. It's been a long journey, and it's time to celebrate! Queen Zinara will be absolutely delighted. We will win this war against the Unseelie after all! We have new allies joining us for victory!" Jack smiled widely as he hugged everyone in the group. Everyone agreed and nodded. The stairs to the underground opened and they each descended, laughing and chatting with each other, all the strain of the journey lifted at once.

"Who are our new allies, Jack?" Shade inquired.

"Oh, sorry, you probably haven't heard about it yet, but, on our way to the Santiran fountains, we ran into a group of villagers who proclaimed that Prince Lotinar had returned and sided with Queen Zinara. This will prove most useful to our cause." Shade pondered what he had said, not really knowing of whom they spoke, and suddenly thought of something else.

"Wait, um, was Sylphi with you guys? Where is she?" Shade asked, not that she really cared.

"Sylphi? She ran at the battle with Lady Blythe. She probably returned to the Teleen Caverns. She most likely got too scared to fight," Ewan chuckled.   
Shade wasn't the only one not missing Sylphi.

Shade approached the first step to the mound but turned to see Dylan watching her.

"The blood bind is still in place. I thought it might be fulfilled at journey's end, but it's not," he whispered as his eyes stared off into the forest, glazing over. His face was serious and contemplative.

"I'm sorry, Dylan; you know I would break it if I could. What do you think has to be done to end it?" Shade placed her hand on his arm to pull him back into the present. He returned his gaze to her and smiled through the sadness.

"It's all right, Shade, I know now that this is my destiny. I'm not meant to be captain of the Teleen guard anymore. I'm glad I met you, Shade. Changes are good." His eyes sparkled in the dimming light of the dusk. The orange glow spread across the sky and dimmed the forest floor as the sun crept away to slumber.

"I'm glad we met, too. Come on, let's get some real food and rest for once. After we give the flask to the Queen, I can go home and see my family."

Dylan's face darkened in gloom as he stared back at her. "Home? You're leaving? Well, I guess you would want to go home, wouldn't you. I won't be returning home, probably not for a long time." He pressed his lips together and stepped forward toward the stairs. "I have to warn you, Shade. I have to stay close to where you are, or my blood burns inside me."

"I know. You could come, you know. You could meet my family. I'm sure I could think of something to tell my mother. You could definitely pass for a teenager. I could say your family is moving out of town, and you need a place to stay so you can graduate at our high school. What do you think? We do have a guest room; my mom rarely uses it, but I'm pretty sure she'd agree to letting you stay with us." She stood before him, staring down the stairs of the faery mound.

He suddenly turned, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Yes, that would be good. I think that since our blood bind is still in place, I will have to stay near you somehow. I guess that would be best, at least until the bond's requirements are fulfilled and it lets me go home."

Shade beamed. She could feel his anxiety pulsating out toward her. Something about the fountains had linked them even closer. She flushed red as she remembered the burn of his lips against hers. She hoped for Dylan's sake they wouldn't be bound for too much longer. However, as they descended into the faerie court and out of sight, she knew she wasn't ready to let him go.

About the Author

Alexia currently lives in Las Vegas, Nevada-Sin City! She loves to spend every free moment writing or playing with her four rambunctious kids. Writing has always been her dream and she has been writing ever since she can remember. She loves writing paranormal fantasy and poetry and devours books daily. Alexia also enjoys watching movies, dancing, singing loudly in the car and Italian food.

Alexia Purdy's Blog

Alexia Purdy's Facebook Fan Page

Ever Shade (A Dark Faerie Tale) Facebook Fan page

Reign of Blood Series Facebook Fan Page

Goodreads Author Page

ALSO BY ALEXIA PURDY:

Novels:

Ever Shade ( A Dark Faerie Tale #1)

Ever Fire (A Dark Faerie Tale #2)

Ever Winter (A Dark Faerie Tale #3)

Reign of Blood

Disarming (Reign of Blood #2)

Short Stories:

Evangeline (A Dark Faerie Tale #0.5)

The Cursed (A Dark Faerie Tale #3.5

The Faery Hunt

Never Say Such Things

Poetic Collections:

Whispers of Dreams

Five Fathoms

Anthology:

Beyond the Never

Soul Games

# ABOUT THE AUTHORS

TARA MAYA has lived in Africa, Europe and Asia. She's pounded sorghum with mortar and pestle in a little clay village where the jungle meets the desert, meditated in a Buddhist monastery in the Himalayas and sailed the Volga river to a secret city that was once the heart of the Soviet space program. This first-hand experience, as well as research into the strange and piquant histories of lost civilizations, inspires her writing. Her terrible housekeeping, however, is entirely the fault of pixies.

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Blog: <http://taramayastales.blogspot.com/>

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**ELLE CASEY** is an American writer who lives in Southern France with her husband, three kids, Hercules the wonder poodle, and Monie the bouvier. In her spare time she writes women's fiction and young adult novels (you can find her Women's Fiction work under the pen name Kat Lee.)

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**JL BRYAN** studied English literature at the University of Georgia and at Oxford, with a focus on the English Renaissance and the Romantic period. He also studied screenwriting at UCLA. He enjoys remixing elements of paranormal, supernatural, fantasy, horror and science fiction into new kinds of stories. He is the author of The Paranormals trilogy ( _Jenny Pox_ , _Tommy Nightmare_ , and _Alexander Death_ ), the biopunk sf novel _Helix_ , and other works. _Fairy Metal Thunder_ is the first book in his new Songs of Magic series. He lives in Atlanta with his wife Christina, one baby, two dogs, two cats, and assorted attic squirrels. His website is http://jlbryanbooks.com. You can also follow him on Twitter or Facebook.

**ANTHEA SHARP** spent most of her childhood summers raiding the library shelves and reading, especially fantasy. She now makes her home in the Pacific Northwest, where she writes, plays the fiddle, and spends time with her small-but-good family. Contact her at antheasharp@hotmail.com, find her on Facebook, <https://www.facebook.com/AntheaSharp> and visit her website - www.antheasharp.com

Anthea also writes historical romance under the pen name Anthea Lawson. Discover her acclaimed Victorian romantic adventures at http://www.anthealawson.com.

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**JENNA ELIZABETH JOHNSON** grew up and still resides on the Central Coast of California, the very location that has become the set of her novel, Faelorehn, and the inspiration for her other series, The Legend of Oescienne.

Miss Johnson has a degree in Art Practice with an emphasis in Celtic Studies from the University of California at Berkeley. She now draws much of her insight from the myths and legends of ancient Ireland to help set the theme for her books.

Besides writing and drawing, Miss Johnson enjoys reading, gardening, camping and hiking. In her free time (the time not dedicated to writing), she also practices the art of long sword combat and traditional archery.

For contact information, visit the author's website at: www.jennaelizabethjohnson.com

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**ALEXIA PURDY** currently lives in Las Vegas, Nevada-Sin City! She loves to spend every free moment writing or playing with her four rambunctious kids. Writing has always been her dream and she has been writing ever since she can remember. She loves writing paranormal fantasy and poetry and devours books daily. Alexia also enjoys watching movies, dancing, singing loudly in the car and Italian food.

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