 
### Sanctuary

### By

### E. Edgar Price

### Smashwords Edition

### *****

### Published by:

### E. Edgar Price on Smashwords

### Sanctuary

### Copyright 2012 E. Edgar Price

### *****

### Smashwords Edition, License Notes

### This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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### Chapter 1: Overlook

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The mountains of Colorado looked strange and alien to Sarah. She'd never seen anything like them. They were jagged and sharp, covered sparsely with trees that only highlighted the visible stratum. Unlike the red, sandy mountains of Grand Junction, where Sarah and her family had flown into, the Rockies further south were dark: black and silver and gray. Oddly, they still had adornments of snow even though it was the end of May. Miles away, back home in Mobile, Alabama, it was already hot and humid, but here the air was thin and cool. It was like a whole other world.

Sarah was startled out of her window gazing when the SUV came to a jarring halt. She turned from the pretty view and watched with knots in her stomach as her dad got out of the vehicle without a word and marched to the edge of the overlook where they were stopped. Benji, her thirteen year old little brother, began to pound the dashboard in front of him. Looking around the seat in front of her, she watched as Benji continued to vent his anger on the rented vehicle.

Sarah pulled her headphones, which had been serving to block out the continued arguments in the front of the car, out of her ears. She looked between Benji's scrunched up face and her father's rapidly retreating back with wary apprehension.

"What just happened?" Sarah asked once her brother calmed down.

Benji's face was splotchy with anger. He didn't answer her. Instead, he glared out the window at the tall pacing figure of their father. They'd pulled off at a tourist's overlook and Todd, their father, was currently ping ponging in anger between a low stone wall and a brief picnic area.

Benji and Todd had been fighting over this trip for weeks now. The problem: this wasn't a vacation. This was a move. And Benji wasn't bothering to hide his unhappiness about it.

Sarah looked over to her older brother, Tyler, sitting next to her. His ear-buds were in, his iPod was on, and he was indiscriminately ignoring all of them while reading a book. Sarah, sighed, patted Benji's shoulder, and attempted to calm him as she unbuckled her seat belt and opened her door.

"This isn't helping, Benji," she said softly, "Dad's just trying to do what he thinks is best for all of us." Benji snorted and kicked the dashboard again. She hadn't really expected him to listen to her. "Hang on for a minute and we'll get a snack and work it out," she told him diplomatically.

Sarah rudely shoved Tyler's arm to get his attention and motioned towards the grocery bag filled with snacks between their feet and then to a picnic table she spotted nearby before getting out of the cumbersome rental car. She checked to make sure he was following through with her gestured suggestion (he was, though his headphones were still crammed in his ears) before she took a deep breath and started toward her pacing, red faced, father.

It had been like this since their father, a professor of anthropology, had announced, with no preamble, he was going to Australia for a year to study aboriginal religions. That was two months ago. It had been only nine months since their mother, Annie, died in a horrible car accident on a rain soaked bridge back in July. The one year anniversary was now looming ahead, barely a month away.

Todd had never been the world's best dad, always working and traveling periodically for research, but he tried to make time for his kids and his wife. He showed up at their sports games or school plays when he could manage it and took Annie out to dinner or a the theater at least once a month. He was a good dad, Sarah thought. He just couldn't handle being a _single_ dad.

Their small family was stopped about an hour south of Grand Junction, Colorado at yet another scenic overlook (people in Colorado must love to look at the scenery, Sarah surmised). The rental SUV was crammed with all the stuff they could reasonably pack and they were about a half an hour away from a town called Natalie where Black Rock Wildlife Sanctuary was apparently situated. And, of course, the closer they'd gotten to their destination the more vocal Benji became and the angrier and more nervous Todd seemed. Sarah was grateful that Benji had at least waited until they were off their numerous flights and out of the airports before he'd thrown this particular tantrum.

The sun shone brightly, at odds with her family's mood. When Sarah reached her father, Todd stopped pacing and stood with his hands in his back pockets looking over the low stone wall and down to the cliffs and valleys below. He took slow deep breaths, but Sarah thought he still looked tense and red.

"Daddy?" she said cautiously as she approached him. "You okay?"

He didn't look at her, but said, "I forgot how thin the air is up here. Funny how you forget little things like that."

"How long has it been since you've been here?" Sarah asked, not willing to push into talking about Benji just yet.

"Not since your mom and me got married," he said quietly. This was new. He hadn't talked about her mom directly since her death and Sarah was startled into listening. "She stayed with us, me and your aunt and my parents, during summer holidays. She went to the university in Denver with Aunt Rachel. That was how we met." Todd's shoulders had relaxed, his hands drooped at his sides and his voice was nearly a whisper now. With a quick shrug and rapid change in demeanor he huffed, "I'm fine Sarah. Your brother just got me riled."

He hugged her to his side before looking back towards the SUV. "I see you've got them setting out snacks," he commented. "What do you say we eat before we get going again?" He smiled at her and walked over to the picnic table where Tyler and Benji now sat, munching chips and cookies without enthusiasm.

"Sure, Daddy," she said quietly to his retreating back. "Sounds like a good plan."

As she walked away from the overlook, she watched her father with a worried frown. She could have sworn he'd looked almost frightened when he was talking about Mom. But that was stupid. He was just sad. They all were. But the thought brought on a small fear in herself, and the more she thought of it, the more she was sure he really had looked scared. Not sad, but scared.

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### Chapter 2: The Middle of Nowhere

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Twenty-five minutes of hairpin turns and sheer drops later, Todd turned off the highway and into a very small town. Smaller than small, Tyler thought. Tiny even, his resentful mind asserted. After passing a Burger King and a gas station, there was a church, what looked like a little park beyond that and bunch of crushed together shops that could have come straight out of a wild-west picture book. There'd been a sign just before the church that said "Welcome to Natalie" in big bold letters and beneath that, in much smaller print, "The biggest town in the county." Carved in relief beside these declarations was some semblance of a pioneer (maybe?) that appeared to be winking. Right back at'cha, Tyler thought and briefly considered flipping the whole town the bird just to make himself feel better.

A glance at Sarah next to him revealed that she was looking up and around instead of reading, and he really didn't want to be the recipient of any of her patented dirty looks, so he refrained. At sixteen, Tyler was a year and two months older than Sarah, but she had the uncanny ability to make him feel like an errant two-year old when she put her mind to it. Especially in recent months.

He knew she'd taken the brunt of everything after their mom died, but Tyler really couldn't help that. He'd just had to get out of that house and away from his suffocating family. At first he felt bad about it, but, after a few illegal beers with his buddies, he forgot about her and Benji and his dad. More importantly, he forgot his mom was dead and his life was permanently changed. He suddenly felt free to party with his friends and see how many girls he could make out with while he was at it. When he finally got home, Sarah was usually waiting, and somehow she made him feel guilty without even saying anything. As if it was all his fault. And since it wasn't and he certainly didn't want to feel guilty about, he went out again as soon as he could.

Things had been getting better, he thought as he stared out the window at a low brick building with peeling blue paint. Valley Time Video, professed the plain black and white sign. A small hand lettered piece of poster board claimed they also had tanning beds in bold red letters. What a wonderful place, Tyler mused sarcastically.

He could see that Sarah was having a hard time. She never went out anymore and, even he noticed she put on weight. To his chagrin his friends used to ask him if she'd go out with them, they'd thought she was pretty and smart, which she was. Not that Tyler ever admitted that, of course. But not long after Mom died, his friends stopped asking about her. Maybe at first they were just unsure of what to say even if they could get a date with her, but Tyler slowly realized that his sister had taken on the appearance of the walking dead. And who would want to date that?

He was also aware that Benji was going nuts. Benji would be fourteen this summer and a freshman in high school this fall. But now the little kid was constantly yelling and punching at the nearest thing at hand. Tyler was home once when Benji'd started screaming and punched a hole in the wall because Sarah wouldn't get him take-out or something. Sarah just stood there, blankly staring at her little brother. Tyler guessed she simply didn't know what to do. He didn't either, but he tried to be around more after that.

Sometimes he couldn't help shutting himself up in his room with his music. His siblings still made him feel irrationally overwhelmed sometimes, but he thought he was coping. He even started talking to the goofy guidance counselor at school like he was supposed to. But, of course, Dad had to go and ruin it.

"The change will be good for us," Dad said. "You'll make new friends," Dad said. "You can play basketball again," Dad said. And with every word Dad uttered Tyler wanted to run further and further away. Since he couldn't, he shut himself up in his room and drowned out the world with music. Tyler didn't think this move would be good for any of them, and he certainly wasn't going to help Dad run away to Australia. Especially since that was exactly the kind of thing Tyler himself wanted to do. But he still felt guilty about Sarah and Benji.

Tyler figured they both needed somebody, probably Benji more than anyone else. So he didn't fight the move, either. Instead, he kept his mouth shut and his music on and did whatever was needed to get this all over with. Maybe once Benji and Sarah were in a place where they could be taken care of, he'd finally stop feeling guilty. And maybe his Dad would start, he added meanly.

After the video/tanning place they turned onto a road lined with a few crappy apartments and some log cabin-like houses. There was a sign to his right that said "This way to Uphill Lake 6 Miles, All Uphill". Tyler guessed it was supposed to be funny.

"Uphill Lake?" Sarah wondered.

"It's a big lake further into the valley," Dad told her. "It's good fishing, but the edge of the lake is really steep, kind of like the edge of a crater. It's quite a climb, hence the name."

"Sounds interesting, huh Benji?" She tried to get a response from the morose little guy in the front seat.

"Maybe," Benji said with a shrug.

They passed a road that went off to the right labeled "Uphill Rd." with what looked like an abandoned gas pump and garage on the far corner. Instead of a sign, the white painted cinder block structure was covered with black spray paint declaring it Seymour's Service Station. More to break the stifling silence that was descending than out of curiosity, Tyler asked, "Is that place still in operation?"

"Probably," Dad answered. "It's looked that way since I was a kid, but old Mr. Seymour keeps it going."

"If he's still alive," Tyler pointed out.

"He's probably still kicking. He was a tough old man and pays kids in free soda if they haul around some of his junk."

"I think I saw some guys in the garage part," Sarah added.

"Then it's probably still running. If a car's broke down, Seymour's is pretty much it if you want it fixed around here. At least it was the last time I was here," Dad amended.

"How come we've never been here before?" Benji asked abruptly.

Dad was quiet for a moment. "It's ten miles from the service station to the main gate," he said instead of answering Benji's question.

Apparently, Tyler thought, he can't even answer the kid's simple question. He glared at the back of his dad's head and began to put his ear-buds back in, resuming his music, but Sarah put a hand over his. She shook her head with a pleading look. Did she have to look so sad all the time? Tyler grunted and put his iPod in a backpack on the floor. "So, what is there to do around here?" he asked with a look at his sister that asked, "Happy now?"

"Yeah, what did you do as a kid, Daddy?" she asked in a too-bright voice. Tyler rolled his eyes at her.

"Well," their Dad began, "There's some cool stuff up at the main house. A pool, for instance, and a croquet field. And a life size chess board."

"Really?" Benji asked doubtfully. "Like in Harry Potter?"

Tyler had to hand it to his sister. She sure knew how to defuse the tension in their family. Not for the first time he thought she should go into diplomacy or something. Benji now looked grudgingly interested and was gazing out the window instead of staring down at his feet (his handheld video game died hours ago). Even Tyler was a little bit intrigued. What kind of place had a life-size chess board?

"Yup," Dad replied with a little laugh. "One of your ancestors built it after he made it big in the gold rush. He liked chess and used to play the game with his wife. The pieces don't move on their own or anything, but it can still be pretty fun. You'll have to get your Grandpa to teach you," he added.

"What else?" Benji asked.

"Umm . . . let's see," Dad started hesitatingly. "There's lots of animals and a fish pond; a big old barn with a wooden swing inside the hayloft," Dad started listing things off. "There's a garden that has a big hedge maze. It was another showy contribution by our gold rush ancestor." He gestured behind them towards the town. "The town has a park with a few duck ponds and it used to have a mini-golf course. The teenagers generally hang out at Uphill Lake," he said glancing back at Tyler and Sarah. "There isn't much in the town square, just offices and a diner, but on the other side of town are a movie theater and an old restaurant. The high school art club used to show old movies in the gym, classic black and whites."

Sarah interrupted his list with a laugh, "Gee Dad, I thought all you guys had back then were black and whites!"

Dad laughed a little too before defending his age by saying he wasn't that old and continuing to name off a few things, like the video store they'd passed. "You're Aunt told me they built a community center near the elementary school a few years ago. They do little league teams and exercise classes and bingo and stuff. Probably not too interesting for you guys," he said, "but maybe worth checking out." Dad paused to navigate a sharp curve that ended in a bridge over a river.

"This is the Springy River," he informed them. "Too shallow for swimming, but sometimes kids get together and float down it in inner tubes. It widens out to a little lagoon further downstream where you can get out have a party or a picnic. It's pretty cold, though."

"What if you get really, really bored?" Benji prodded. "I mean that's really not much stuff when you think about it."

"True," Dad agreed. "I suppose if you got really bored you could go south for the day. Durango is about an hour south of here and it's a pretty touristy-type place with lots of shops. There's river where they do white water rafting there too. And between here and there are a few other 'tourist traps' you might say: Ouray is a town famous for having a singer from the seventies as mayor, Silverton has little shops and skiers and a train that goes to Durango, and to the West is a place called Telluride which has a film festival and some celebrities have cabins or ranches up there. That enough stuff to do?" Dad inquired.

"Maybe," Benji hedged, but Tyler could tell he was satisfied. Then he let out a quickly smothered gasp and pointed ahead. "Is that where we're going?"

Dad only nodded as Tyler and Sarah leaned forward to get a better look. Ahead of them was a massive carved wooden gate set in a thick stone wall twice as tall as Tyler; at least twelve feet, maybe more. As they approached the gate, the road turned to gravel and Tyler could see the stone part of the wall ended about six feet away on each side to be replaced by a wooden fence.

"Does that fence go all the way around?" Tyler asked. "How big is this place?"

"Yeah," Dad answered. "I think it encloses the whole sanctuary, but it becomes mostly barbed wire later on. And I honestly have no idea how much land is here." Dad sounded oddly nervous.

"Black Rock Wildlife Sanctuary," Sarah read off of an engraved bronze plaque bolted to the right stone wall.

Tyler read a similar plaque on the left. "Trespassers Will Face Punishment." That was weird. "Nope, that's not ominous at all," he commented sarcastically. Tyler shared a look with Sarah.

"Isn't this a farm, too?" Sarah asked.

"Part of the land here is used for farming," Dad said slowly, "but most of it is for the animals and plants that live here. Your grandfather keeps track of the animals in the sanctuary and the government pays him in grants for the upkeep, but that's not always enough. So he also runs a farm and sells milk, eggs, and produce for extra income."

"That's smart," Sarah observed as they passed through the gate. "This is a long drive way," she observed a few minutes later.

Tyler had to agree. Dad had slowed because of the gravel, but they were at least a mile into a dense forest that started just beyond the gate. As the minutes passed, the SUV eked along what must have been nearly three miles before there was a break in the trees. This time it was Sarah who gasped and Tyler let out his own gurgle of amazement. His objections to the move were momentarily forgotten as he stared at the weirdest house he'd ever seen.

A long, thin oval drive, at least half a mile itself, fronted the obnoxious building. Tyler saw gardens to the right (and maybe the hedge maze?) before a huge, round, stone tower rose up. The tower was attached to the right side of the house, also stone, which had a flat roof like a castle's. The stone then gave way to a wood and plaster-type wall that made up the front of the house. Tyler wouldn't have been surprised if it had a thatched roof, but a glace up revealed normal shingling. The left side of the house was more modern looking, if anyone could call gothic Victorian modern, that is. The roof jutted up like a high cathedral complete with a round stained glass window at the top.

Of course the weirdest part of the house, Tyler realized, wasn't actually part of the house. Four white Doric columns stood on a (marble?) platform to the far left of the house. There was a long stone beam across the top of them with some kind of carvings in it. Behind the columns was a blue swimming pool flanked by an identical set of columns on the other side. To left of the pool was another small building made from smooth, white stone. It was like a roman bath or something, Tyler thought.

The whole place looked like Sleeping Beauty's castle meets the Seven Dwarf's cottage meets Frankenstein's manor meets the Parthenon. It was . . . weird, Tyler decided. There just weren't a lot of other words coming to mind. He suddenly realized that Dad had stopped the car and was staring silently just like Tyler, Sarah and Benji, minus the open mouth. "So this is it?" Tyler prompted, struggling to put a shrugging nonchalance into his voice. "Doesn't look like much of a farm."

"No," Dad said, starting to ease the car into the circular drive. "I guess not."

Tyler confirmed the north side of the house with the tower was where the garden and the hedges began as they drove past it. Ahead, the double front doors opened and two men and a woman stepped out. The front steps were wide, almost like a porch, and shallow.

When the SUV came to a stop, Dad waved a hand towards the building. "Welcome to Black Rock Manor," he said nervously.

Nope, Tyler thought, not ominous at all.

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### Chapter 3: Rooms of Their Own

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Benji's Aunt Rachel looked a lot like his father. She was shorter and softer, but she had the same dark brown hair, the same blue eyes, and even the same freckles scattered across her nose. She was slovenly dressed in an oversized white button up shirt that had seen better days and denim cutoffs. There were splotches of dirt and maybe paint all over her and her hair was fixed in an untidy braid over her shoulder. She smiled as she opened the passenger door.

"Hello, Benji," Aunt Rachel said cheerfully. "You've grown nearly a foot since last I saw you." Benji frowned, thinking that every relative always said that after not seeing you for a while, whether it was true or not. She gave him a brief hug and then opened Sarah's door and ushered her out of the back seat. "Goodness, it's wonderful to see you all! I'm so glad you made it safe and sound."

"Why wouldn't we have?" Benji asked in a surly voice. Everyone ignored him.

The older man behind Aunt Rachel went around to Dad's side and shook his hand. His hair was thick, white, and long. It fanned out around his head, like an aging lion, Benji thought. He wasn't bent or hunched and didn't wear glasses like Benji's other grandfather. Grandpa Lee was tall and stout and still muscular. And he always looked vaguely threatening to Benji.

"You remember your Uncle Matt?" Aunt Rachel said, bringing Benji's attention to the other man now helping Tyler at the back of the car. Benji nodded, though, he hadn't actually seen Uncle Matt since he was around six or so and didn't really remember him (Uncle Matt had not come to Mom's funeral the previous summer). The man had curly carrot colored hair that was long enough to put in a ponytail which, with all the curls, Benji thought looked like an orange bunny tail. He was tall and lanky, taller than Dad and Tyler, so over six feet. He wore black wire framed glasses almost too small for his face and had wide smile, which he aimed in Benji's direction. Benji did not smile back.

He ignored everyone and, instead, took the opportunity to look at the house. "This is an ugly house," he said loudly. He heard his sister's voiced objection from behind him, but Aunt Rachel just laughed. She was far too happy to be normal.

"Yes, it's very ugly," Rachel agreed. "This is what happens when too many opposing ideas come together. It's even stranger on the inside," she continued, "but there's lots of room." She put her arm out as if to hug him, but Benji skirted the attempted embrace and bent to pick up some of the bags Sarah was emptying out of the SUV.

"Don't worry about the luggage," Aunt Rachel said, gesturing to all three teenagers. "Why don't you just grab what you can carry for now and I'll show you to your rooms."

Tyler shrugged in apathy and Benji ignored her, but Sarah said she'd love to and followed Aunt Rachel into the manor. Benji stared after them into the strange confines of the house. It looked dark inside, like a smelly and dank cave or something. He looked around for his dad, but found him talking intently with Grandpa Lee. Tyler had grabbed a suitcase and was walking toward the yawning front doors with Uncle Matt.

"You coming?" Tyler asked, but he didn't wait for an answer and disappeared into the house.

Benji spared another glance at his dad. He and Grandpa Lee looked like they were in the middle of a heated argument. They were both stiff and red-faced, talking to each other through their teeth, but Benji couldn't hear what was being said. Maybe Grandpa would make Dad stay. Benji hoped so. This was one creepy place to be abandoned in, he thought before grabbing his backpack and a duffle bag and following his brother inside.

The interior was gloomy and smelled of antiques. The front doors opened onto a hall with a large staircase on one side and doorless archways on the other. A hall that ran underneath the staircase vanished to the right and a woman with a red-headed girl came out of it.

"This is my daughter, Jessie," Aunt Rachel said. "I think you've only met once or twice."

Benji couldn't actually remember ever meeting his cousin. Jessie was an obvious tomboy in athletic shorts and a pink t-shirt. She looked a lot like her mother, but had her dad's red hair and lighter eyes.

The woman with Jessie stopped to introduce herself as Sylvie Landy. Her voice rose and fell in a pronounced British lilt.

"Sylvie and her husband, David, are the sanctuary caretakers," Aunt Rachel explained. "They help us run things around here."

"Nice to meet you," Sarah said politely. Tyler sent a brief wave in their direction, but Benji put them on his list of people to ignore. Everyone here was too nice. It was already starting to get on his nerves. Aunt Rachel herded the teenagers upstairs to see their rooms, and Benji followed in glum dissatisfaction

"All of your rooms are on the third floor," Aunt Rachel began, as they ascended the big staircase. At the first landing she pointed to the left. "Your Uncle and I are down that hall on the second floor and Jessie's room is the farthest room in the other direction." Tyler snorted at this, and Benji wondered at his sense of humor. Aunt Rachel continued as if she hadn't heard him and they went up the next flight of stairs. "At the top here and down the left hall are your grandfather's rooms and your rooms are down the right."

The stairs continued up another flight into what Benji assumed was the attic, but Aunt Rachel guided them all towards their new rooms and Benji didn't get a chance to investigate. His Aunt pointed out guest rooms, closets and bathrooms along the way until they reached a curved wall marking the end of the hallway.

To Benji's right was a short staircase that led up about three feet to a door about four feet tall. To his left was a big white door with a silver handle instead of a knob. Directly in front of him, the hallway actually curved around a bit and ended at another white door. Although, that one had a porcelain doorknob.

Aunt Rachel directed Tyler to the silver handled door on the left. She opened the door and waved him inside. Tyler carried his bags inside before letting out a subdued whistle. Benji shoved past his Aunt and sister so that he could see what had surprised his brother. If Benji could have whistled, he might have done the same thing, he thought looking around.

The room was huge; twice as big as their living room in Mobile. The vaguely nautical navy blue room had a wall of windows looking out over the back year. A pair of white doors were positioned along the left which their aunt labeled as a closet and bathroom.

"Where does that door go?" Benji asked pointing to a glass door hidden in the wall of windows. In answer, Aunt Rachel stepped around him and crossed the room. She opened the door to reveal a wide stone balcony that ran beneath the windows.

"That goes to the terrace," she informed them with a smile. "It has a staircase that leads down to the patio just outside the kitchen. It's kind of treacherous in winter," she warned, "but in summer it will make a nice shortcut for breakfast."

"Kind of cool," Tyler approved before dumping his bags onto the bed. The large bed was the only furniture in the room besides a short dresser and was covered with a thin quilt of red, yellow, and orange star shapes on a blue background. The only other thing in the room was a light wooden mantle and fireplace between the bathroom and closet doors.

"It's a bit bare," Aunt Rachel admitted with a wave of her hand. "I figured you guys would like decorating the rooms yourselves. We've got tons of furniture and odds and ends in the attic, so you can put whatever you like on the walls and add furniture or change whatever you want." She grinned at the three of them like it was Christmas.

It was sort of, Benji admitted looking around again. They'd been told they each had their own room and bathroom, which had been cool enough, but this was definitely unexpected. Three teenagers sharing one bathroom was never ideal and Benji's room in Mobile was hardly more than a closet. Tyler and Sarah's rooms weren't much bigger. This place was a palace in comparison.

Aunt Rachel waved them back into the hall and pointed up the strange stairs to the little door. "That one is your room, Benji. You'll have to duck," she advised, "but it's larger inside and kind of neat. It used to be a nursery years ago."

What could be big about a nursery? He wasn't a baby, so why were they putting him in here? Benji's thoughts turned pessimistic and gloomy. He hoped it was at least as cool as Tyler's room, but suspected it was similar to his old room. With a frown, Benji turned the little brass door knob, opened the door and quickly ducked through it.

The room beyond was actually much larger than Benji had suspected. It was long and narrow like an attic. The walls were painted a light shade of blue, and the trim was a natural wood that matched the flooring. A built in bookcase surrounded a large fireplace at one end and at the other was a big four poster bed and a matching dresser. Four tall narrow openings looked out over the front drive and opposite them were two narrow doors leading to a closet and bathroom. Benji surveyed his new domain with unexpected satisfaction.

Imitating Tyler, Benji threw his burdens onto the bed and noticed the headboard was carved with grizzly bears fighting in relief. He, too, had a quilt, though Benji's was fashioned of multicolored squares in dark greens, browns, reds, and blues. Benji figured it was at least a queen size mattress and couldn't help but collapse backwards onto the soft quilted pillows.

Sarah came up beside him and ruffled his hair. "You're moving up in the world, Benji." He certainly felt like he was and he was far too pleased at the moment to be annoyed with his sister. It was almost enough to make him forget that Dad was dumping them with strange relatives for a whole year. Almost.

"Let's see what your room is like, Sarah," Tyler suggested from the doorway. Sarah nodded and went back down the stairs where Aunt Rachel was waiting. Benji hopped up from his bed and followed her back to the hall. Sarah's room was probably epic, girl's rooms generally were in his experience.

"Ready for yours?" Aunt Rachel asked.

"You know this is great, really," Sarah said, "but isn't it a little much? These rooms are huge. I'd be happy in something small."

"Don't be ridiculous," Aunt Rachel admonished gently. "We have this huge house and hardly anyone to fill it up. Besides," she continued, "the only 'small' rooms in this place are closets."

"If you're sure?" Sarah still hesitated. It made Benji feel a little guilty, but he didn't know why.

Aunt Rachel put her arm around Sarah's shoulders and led her around the curving wall to the last white door. "I'm positive," she said firmly opening the door and pushing Sarah inside.

Benji was right, Sarah's room was epic. The best out of the three he surmised. It was in the stone tower. The whole room was round and tall like a coffee can and painted a peacock blue color that made it feel exotic. Aunt Rachel crossed the room to another door and opened it to reveal another bathroom. Benji followed to get a look.

The bathroom was girly. Just what Sarah would like, he thought, and her quiet gasp of astonishment proved him right. The center of the room held sunken bathtub tiled in tiny jade green squares that was as big as a hot tub. Alongside the door a shelf was built into the wall like a desk with mirrors above it and an ornate red and gold guilt chair sat in front of it. Makeup table maybe? Benji wasn't exactly sure what girls did in bathrooms in the first place. And eased back out of the opulent room.

"I thought you'd like it," Aunt Rachel said from behind Benji when Sarah giggled in delight.

Back out in the main room Tyler was investigating a bare floor to ceiling window with double doors concealed among the panes. They opened out onto a balcony overlooking the hedge maze. A wicker set of outdoor furniture was positioned outside with a couch, a table and two chairs.

Benji noticed another door that he assumed was closet. Next to that was a black laquered wooden dresser, painted with gold feathers here and there. An iron canopy bed hung with gauzy white curtains was against the far wall. Sarah also had a quilt, but hers was patterned with pink and yellow squares and had the figure of blue and green peacock stitched across the bottom.

"What's with the quilts?" Benji asked, gesturing to the bedspread.

Aunt Rachel walked over to the bed and fingered the coverlet. "Your grandmother loved quilting," she said. "She used to win all sorts of contests and sold her work in a shop in town." Benji felt a little uncomfortable at his aunt's nostalgic tone.

"Oh," was all he said before joining his siblings at the opposite side of the room.

They were investigating a bi-level built in bookcase surrounding another fireplace, all curved to fit the round walls of the room. A heavy black and gold iron ladder was attached to a bar at the top so a person could reach even the highest of the shelves.

"Jesse's room," Aunt Rachel said from behind him, "is directly below this one and almost identical." She gestured toward the balcony where Tyler was reentering the room. "There's a stone spiral staircase outside that leads to her balcony and then into the garden."

Sarah looked out the window, but didn't go outside. "Thank you," she said turning to Aunt Rachel. "This is pretty amazing." Benji rolled his eyes at the awe in her voice. Aunt Rachel just smiled at her. "I guess we should finish bringing up our stuff," she added.

"Go ahead and get your things," Aunt Rachel agreed. "Jessie will give you a full tour tomorrow, but I imagine you guys are pretty tired." They each nodded, except Benji who was trying to recover his apathy and annoyance. "Once you've got your things sorted, come down to the parlor and I'll introduce everyone you haven't met," she said heading for the door herself.

Benji took a second to pop back into his room and take another look around. Yep, still awesome, he thought. This time, it was a struggle to keep his countenance impassive, but he worked at it before heading back downstairs.

At the bottom of the stairs, the luggage was piled haphazardly. Benji shoved a few things around and grabbed what was his. He carted it upstairs and let the weight and drudgery rekindle his ire.

### *****

### Chapter 4: The Big Scene

### *****

The parlor was actually a big living room, Benji discovered. It was large but cozy, with a big fireplace and lots of paintings on hunter green walls. Red china pattern curtains framed long gothic windows looking out on the circle driveway. When Benji came down after hauling all his stuff to his room, he found his dad staring pensively through the glass. Everyone else was grouped throughout the room talking and drinking what looked like lemonade.

Sarah was talking with Jessie and Aunt Rachel near the dining room entrance. Tyler was leaning against a big bookcase perusing the selection, while Uncle Matt and a teenaged boy Benji hadn't seen before sat on a couch beside him talking animatedly. There was a man about Dad's age sitting on a couch with a little girl on his lap and Sylvie sat next to them. Grandpa Lee was sitting in an armchair in front of the fire place watching the gathering with a scowl.

As Benji came in, Sarah asked if he wanted some lemonade or tea from the buffet table. He answered in the affirmative and let her get him a glass of lemonade from a narrow waist high table against a back wall. He sipped it indifferently and wandered to the window by his dad.

Maybe Dad would stay, Benji thought. Maybe he'd realize leaving his kids with a bunch of strangers was wrong. It was abandonment. Not that these weren't nice people, but they weren't his family, not really. He hardly knew them. Dad was family, even if he wasn't winning any father-of-the-year awards lately. Surely he'd realize what a stupid and senseless idea this all was and they could be on a plane for Alabama in the morning. Benji wouldn't even mind going back to his tiny room if he could get back to Mobile.

Benji's train of thought was making him frustrated and angry. He tried to think more sensibly as he approached his father. Before he could say anything, though, everyone's attention was drawn to the archway where Aunt Rachel stood, clearing her throat. Everyone focused her and Benji lost the opportunity to corner his father.

"Before dinner gets on the table, how about I introduce everyone?" She smiled and congenially and gestured about the room. Aunt Rachel started introductions and Benji moved away into a corner near the fireplace, resentful of his missed chance.

The man on the couch was named David Landy. He was Sylvie's husband and was also English. They'd worked here for twenty years Aunt Rachel said. The little girl was their daughter, Kimmy who was eight and half and the teenager talking to Uncle Matt was their son, Adam, seventeen. Grandpa, Uncle Matt, Aunt Rachel, and Jesse they obviously already knew.

After the short interlude everyone began talking again, asking Sarah, Tyler and Benji about their ages and interests. A sudden noise from the window quieted the room again and the gathering turned to look at Todd. This is it, Benji thought, and he hated himself for the brief flair of hope. He studied his dad and tried to keep his features neutral. Dad would either take them home now or leave them here.

With the attention on him, Dad's face got a bit red and he had to take a breath before he spoke. "I guess I should go before it gets dark," he said and his voice seemed boomingly loud to Benji. He looked scared and silly and weak standing framed by the window glass all by himself, telling his children he was leaving. He looked small, Benji thought, angrily. An evil imp, maybe, instead of a father; some changeling that was going to bail on his kids. Benji liked the image he'd conjured. It was a satisfying characterization of the man before him.

Benji nearly lost his composure when a hand suddenly landed on his shoulder. It was Sarah. She looked scared and worried. Benji hated the pleading expression in her face. It was obvious she thought he'd go berserk or something, even though he promised her earlier he wouldn't.

Before coming down, he was piling some of his clothes into his new closet. Sarah knocked twice on the door and asked if she could come in. Though he hadn't wanted to admit her, he said okay anyway and she ducked into the room.

"Could we talk for a minute?" she asked softly. Benji hated her gentle voice. It was too much like Mom's.

"Maybe I don't want to talk," Benji said. He knew it was whiney, but he couldn't seem to help it. What did she want from him?

"I'd appreciate it if you could control your temper this evening," she told him. Her face was stern and Benji shrugged rather than say anything. She continued softly, "I know you're upset. I know this sucks. It's not fair and all the huge rooms in the world won't fix it."

"But?" Benji prompted acidly.

"But you need to listen to me," she pleaded. "Dad's going and nothing will change that." Sarah cut him off when he tried to object. "Dad needs to go and we need to stay and be someplace else for a while. Think of it as yearlong vacation," she suggested.

"Aunt Rachel is nice," Sarah continued. "Uncle Matt seems like a good guy and they act like they really want us here. It will be good for us to be around them. And I think it will be good for us to be away from Dad. Maybe if Dad's gone, you won't be so angry all the time."

What a stupid way to think, Benji thought, but he didn't say anything. His sister was speaking out of desperation. She just didn't want him to embarrass her in front anyone, which he resented. He didn't care, so he said nothing, just shrugged again.

"Benji, promise you won't throw a tantrum or start yelling when Dad leaves," she begged.

"He might not leave," Benji said stubbornly. "We might all leave and go home."

"Promise me," Sarah repeated. She was looking at him with tears in her soft brown eyes. Her expressiveness didn't sway him. He just wanted her gone, so he gave her a stiff promise and went back to his suitcases.

She probably wanted to hug him, cry a little maybe, but he ignored her until she left, shutting the dwarf sized door behind her. His breathing became heavy with pent up anger. This was not fair and he shouldn't have to promise anyone anything. He was nearly fourteen. His life shouldn't be controlled by the stupid, irrational whims of other people.

His mother was dead, his father was going to leave him and now his sister didn't even want him to voice an objection. She couldn't really believe that a father leaving his kids was a good thing? That was just crap. It was all crap! He threw another bag into the closet and it landed with a gratifying bang. He wanted to rage and yell, and if she'd stayed in the room he probably would have so she could see how much pain he was in, how much pain their dad was causing.

Of course that didn't really work with Sarah. Sarah hadn't even cried when Mom died. Those troopers came into their home with their quiet, devastating words. Dad slumped in the foyer, practically laying in the doorway sobbing. Tyler stood beside him and cried silently, his hands turning into white-knuckled fists. Benji didn't even believe it at first. But when the words got through, he clung to Sarah's hand crying and screaming with each breath before he knew he was even doing it. Sarah hadn't though. She didn't shed even one tear.

Benji recalled Sarah standing next to him in the foyer. It was still raining outside and the troopers were leaving with their funny hats in hand. He heard her take in three short gasping breaths and then she let out a short wail and that was it. She let Benji cling to her while he sobbed, but she did not cry. He'd caught her a few times afterwards, crying silently when she thought she was alone, but no more than that. Mostly she was robotically calm about everything, which just made Benji angry.

Sarah didn't get angry either. She spoke softly and never complained, even though she started doing all the housework. She was like a machine, the Terminator that cleaned.

Benji couldn't stand it. He was angry and sad all the time. He knew his behavior wasn't the best, but how could anyone expect him to act normal? His mother was dead; didn't he deserve to throw a tantrum or two? It was really a miracle that was all he did. At least he hadn't taken up drinking like Tyler.

The worst thing about Sarah, though, was that she looked like Mom. Sarah was a carbon copy of their mom. Benji couldn't stand it. He was glad when she started getting fat and sloppy, so she didn't look so much like Mom anymore. He was perversely grateful that she'd become a pale and puffy zombie.

At the moment, her pudgy hand felt heavy on his shoulder as he struggled with his feelings. He had promised, but did it really matter?

Dad was just staring at them, melancholy and nervous. Suddenly, Benji couldn't take it anymore. He yelled a wordless sound of outrage, shoved past his sister, and escaped the room. He ran up the stairs, all the way to the very top landing and collapsed in front of the only door. He pounded the floor with his fist, rapping his knuckles against the wood with an accommodating sort of pain. He yelled and didn't care if anyone heard him. He deserved to be angry and his dad deserved the full force of that anger. Benji only regretted that he hadn't been able to punch Dad with the same harshness he pounded the floor.

Benji's anger consumed him and he let it carry him into a numb stupor, collapsing limply to the floor. Silent, salty tears coursed down his face as he listened to the sound of a distant engine coming to life. Closing his eyes, he tried to block out the scrape of gravel against rubber as his dad drove off, not even bothering to find Benji and say goodbye.

### *****

### Chapter 5: The Great Goodbye

### *****

Dawnlight caressed Sarah's face and coaxed her awake. It was early, but the huge curtainless window made it impossible to shut the light out, so she began a leisurely stretch then abruptly realized she wasn't even under the pretty peacock quilt of the bed. In fact, she wasn't even in her pajamas. She was wrapped in a soft white terry cloth robe with bright green leaves embroidered on it. She sat up and tightened the belt on the robe trying to remember how she'd gotten there.

The robe, she recalled, had been on a hook on the back of the door in the bathroom. She hadn't been able to go to sleep the night before. Insomnia was a familiar friend to her, and at some point she made use of that enormous jade green tub in the bathroom, hoping a hot bath would sooth her into sleep. Then she remembered Benji, her Dad's last goodbyes and groaned, suddenly feeling tired and un-rested once again.

When Todd said it was time for him to go, she feared Benji was going to lose it. Sarah tried to get him to behave, making him promise her not to throw a tantrum, but she was still unsure of him. She laid a hand on his shoulder when they all turned to look at their father, partly to comfort and partly to restrain. Benji's face was red and scrunched up tight with emotion. However, he didn't scream or throw any wayward punches. He turned and ran. Sarah started to move after him, not wanting him to be alone, but instead stayed put. She knew he would only begrudge her presence if she tried to follow him.

Todd's hands were in front of him, as if he might have been reaching out to Benji for a hug. He ran both hands through his messy hair instead and said, "I have to catch a flight to San Francisco." As if that explained everything.

The roomful of people was quiet for a moment, before the Landy's rose and murmerd that it was good to have met Todd. They veered off to the dining room with their two kids. Uncle Matt did likewise and Aunt Rachel gave Todd a brief hug before walking into the kitchen, pulling Jessie in her wake. Then it was only Grandpa Lee, Tyler and Sarah facing him. For a moment they stood there, frozen in some warped tableau almost as if battle lines had been drawn and Todd was the only soldier left on his side.

Grandpa spoke up first. "You ought to see to your son."

"He'll be fine. He's been . . . overly emotional of late."

"Fine," Grandpa said sharply. "Then you'd best get going before we remember we're supposed to missing you."

Sarah watched, startled, as her father's face turned an alarming shade of purple. It sounded like a fight was on the horizon, but she was completely clueless as to why. Hadn't their grandfather wanted this, too? She had thought he agreed with Dad leaving and his children staying here, but apparently not. Grandpa ended the strange tension by turning brusquely and marching into the dining room. The harsh color on her father's face receded a bit.

"Tyler, .. ." Dad hesitated. "Tyler, I know you'll do well here." Dad reached out to hug him, but Tyler backed out of his arms mumbling "whatever" and "bye" before leaning against the wall again.

"Sarah?" Todd said, as if her name was a question.

Sarah loved her father. She loved her family, and she wasn't sure that leaving her, Tyler and Benji was the right thing to do, despite what she told her little brother earlier. But if she was honest, and she tried hard to be honest at least with herself, Sarah knew that she wanted to be here. She wanted to be far from Mobile, far from the pressures and responsibilities that inhabited her old life. She wanted a new start. If that happened without Todd around, she would learn to be okay with it.

"I'll miss you, Daddy," she said and hugged him tightly. He seemed relieved as he hugged her back.

"I'll call and write or something."

"I know and you'll be back for Christmas, too," she reminded him.

He nodded, hugged her again and took his leave of them. She listened to the front door shut, the rental's engine roar to life. The sound of crunching gravel rose and faded as the SUV headed down the drive, away from the sanctuary.

When she looked at Tyler, he was staring at her with an emotion close to outrage or indignation. She smiled faintly in response (no need for more negative feelings) and when her aunt and the others began wandering back into the room, she volunteered to go find Benji, so dinner could get underway.

She got halfway up the dark central staircase before she collapsed with her head in her hands. She would not cry, she could not cry. Gulps of air filled her lungs until she could breathe normally, again, until she could think. The scene in the parlor exhausted her. She'd never imagined it like that. Her father desperate to leave, but still desperate for their affection. Her brother with hate in his eyes. She could barely tamp down on her own emotions, why did everyone insist on throwing theirs at her too?

Grandpa's reaction was the strangest. She noticed he didn't seem pleased with Todd earlier, but he seemed perfectly nice when dealing with Tyler and Benji. He had looked at her funny when she stepped out of the SUV with a gaze that reminded her of the fear she saw in her father at the overlook. But it was gone so quickly it must have been her imagination at work again. Then that . . . . disappointment. Yes, that's what it was. It was disappointment in his voice when he'd cut down her father. Sudden and jarring in its fierceness, it was wholly unexpected to Sarah.

Wondering at the odd behavior of her elders calmed her mind a bit and after a moment Sarah stood and considered where Benji might be. She hadn't heard him leave the house. After trying his room and finding it empty, she impulsively decided to investigate the top of the stairwell before heading anywhere else.

At the top was what she assumed was the attic, and she found Benji lying in front of its door, bent over at the waist with his face in the floor and arms spread eagled. When she touched his shoulder he sat, but didn't say anything.

For a moment, Sarah was scared. Benji looked fierce and oddly blank, but she told him dinner was ready and led him downstairs, thinking food and some supportive company would help. It didn't.

Benji didn't speak to anyone even when they asked him a direct question. He sat and ate and glared at nothing at all. After dinner, and a delicious blackberry cheesecake dessert, Benji swiftly retreated upstairs while Sarah and Tyler sat in the parlor with the others.

Sarah loved the dinner. It was obvious Aunt Rachel had gone to some trouble to make it special. The dining room, which looked out over the pool, was long and narrow. A large table in the center had been decorated with pink and white flowers as if for a party. The meal was three courses and the plate settings were a fine china edged with silver. It made Sarah feel rich and sophisticated despite the informal mannerisms.

Everyone talked and laughed and told stories. It was clear these people were a family. Even though the Landy's and their two kids were unrelated, they were unequivocally included. There were a few moments during the evening when Sarah felt like an intruder, an outsider. But she was soon drawn in again by a question or conversation that piqued her interest. Even Tyler was at ease, getting into a heated discussion of basketball with Adam Landy and Uncle Matt.

At the end of the evening, Sarah actually felt content and comfortable. Jessie and Adam were going to give them a tour of the farm tomorrow morning and Aunt Rachel promised to show her something special. It was a good evening, despite its rocky start. Sarah hardly missed her father, which made her feel a stabbing guilt as the night wore on, but she tried to brush it away like a fly. Let me alone, she thought, winding down for the night. For once, she wished her unchecked emotions would let her alone.

### *****

### Chapter 6: Sleepless

### *****

Alone in her room that night, Sarah snuggled under her quilt. But after hours of trying to relax, she still couldn't sleep. There was a bit of time difference and some jet lag, but that wasn't what kept her awake. Once by herself, she began to worry about Benji and Tyler. Tyler seemed alright, but Benji was still struggling. She worried about herself, too.

Sarah pushed off her quilt and walked to her immense windows. Twilight shrouded the mountains. Their fierce and jagged beauty stood out even in the darkness, highlighted by the layers of snow still clinging to their peaks. It made Sarah long for home. It made her wish that at least her mother were here.

Sarah's mom had been a nurse. She worked part-time at a pediatrics clinic and was one of those moms everyone wished they had. She gossiped and told stories with her kids, planned amazing vacations and outings, and always had a cup of tea and a cookie for when you were hurt or upset. To Sarah, she was the most loving and wise woman in the world. Sarah, Tyler, and Benji never felt neglected or unwanted, even if their dad was sporadically unavailable, because they had their mom. Then Annie died.

For much of the past eleven months, Sarah had taken her mother's place. She consoled her brothers and her dad. She picked up the slack in chores and errands. She tried to help Benji with his homework and remind Todd of his meetings and classes. She tried to keep an eye on Tyler, who took to staying out more than in, and reign in her younger brother's evermore frequent tantrums. Sarah had been desperately trying to keep what she had left of a family together. Not that it had worked out so well.

They actually had other family back in Mobile: Annie's parents and her brother. But Grandpa James and Grandma Shirley were very old and living in a retirement home. They could do very little to help. Sarah's Uncle Steve wasn't much help either. He was the eternal bachelor and ran the family auto garage now that Grandpa was retired. After the initial shock and grief that came from Annie's death, when everyone in the entire city seemed to be showing up with casseroles and condolences, Todd and his children were left on their own.

Todd soon took to burying himself in his work and leaving abruptly if anyone even mentioned Annie or started to get teary. He couldn't handle her absence. For Tyler, it meant rebellion and apathy. He began to frequent parties and came home drunk more than once those first few months. Benji, on the other hand, reverted to some kind of toddler mentality. He was increasingly selfish and needy, prone to rages and fits of tears.

Sarah herself took up the responsibilities her mother had left behind, though no one asked her to. Her guidance counselor (it was mandatory to go once a week for a year after a parent's death) told her it was unhealthy. Sarah knew that. It was pretty obvious. She quit gymnastics and cheerleading so she could chauffer Benji around and run the household errands. She began canceling outings with friends because the laundry and dishes never seemed to get done. She stopped putting on makeup and going anywhere but school because, really, what was the point? Sarah shoved down her own feelings and got on with taking care of everyone else, hoping and praying that eventually they'd all be able to move on.

Sarah's gaze was tinged with guilt as she took in the stunning mountain view before her. Craggy, snow topped peaks surrounded a deep valley with a darkly silver river running along its edge until it disappeared in thick forests surrounding her new home. Despite it's beauty, she took no pleasure in looking at the vista. It was partly her fault Todd had decided to pack up the house, put their stuff in storage and go on this research sabbatical while leaving his kids with their distant family in the middle-of-nowhere Colorado.

Sarah stepped away from her windows and turned to face her room. Her luggage was stacked haphazardly in the corner and begged to be organized so, since she wasn't sleeping, Sarah decided to unpack. There were a few boxes of books and three suitcases of clothes, mostly stuff that was actually too tight these days. Still, she had to do something, so she hung her clothes in the closet, organized the books on the bookcase and filled her dresser with socks and underwear and t-shirts.

In less than an hour, only a box of framed photos and desk supplies remained. Since she would be getting more furniture from the attic sometime this week, Sarah decided to wait on putting those things out. Unfortunately, she still wasn't sleepy. The balcony looked appealing, but Colorado was much colder than Alabama. The chilly air wasn't exactly comforting. It was then, she thought of the bathroom; the big jade green tub and all of the pretty tile work.

The huge tiled room was warm, and the glass block window was dark. Not much of a moon tonight, Sarah guessed. She flipped a key shaped switch jutting out of the wall and bronze track lighting lit the room. The decorative tiles were meant to give the illusion of a forested lagoon with dark purple squares on the floor and lighter green and blue ones on the wall. The sunken jade tub was an oasis in the middle.

Sarah began investigating and found the soft robe stitched with kelly-green leaves, along with fluffy white towels and cloths. Opening a tall cabinet she discovered shelves lined with woven baskets. Upon closer inspection, she saw they were filled with various bath items. Some had what looked like homemade soaps with various colors and scents, another held bath crystals, another shampoo, conditioner, bath oils and so on. They all had handwritten labels identifying scents and uses. Sarah wondered if they made them on the farm.

She grabbed the robe, a towel, some salts and oils that smelled faintly of roses and cinnamon. It was rather like a spa, she thought. After filling the tub with warm water, she added the salts and oil and sank into the tub. The curved edge was perfectly comfortable and she relaxed, but thoughts and memories still swirled in her mind.

Sarah's counselor, Mr. Ramirez, had become extremely concerned about three months ago when Sarah admitted to binge eating. She wasn't getting much exercise anymore since she quit her extracurricular activities and she'd gained some weight. She wasn't sleeping much, either. Agitated and unable to sleep, Sarah was getting up in the middle of the night after everyone was asleep and stuffing herself with as much chocolate, chips, and sweets as she could possibly stand. Right after Annie's death it had made her feel better. But that feeling didn't last.

She became ashamed of her late night eating, especially after her clothes stopped fitting and her weight gain became noticeable. Naturally (or unnaturally, really) she contemplated throwing up everything she ate. The thought scared her, more because it felt like a solution than because she realized it was wrong. Her own feelings and behavior scared her. She wasn't herself anymore. So she confessed all to Mr. Ramirez who immediately informed her dad.

Three weeks later, Todd was going to Australia and Tyler, Sarah, and Benji would be moving to Colorado for a year. Which, of course, made Sarah feel like it was her fault.

Todd told the three of them that he felt like he wasn't being a good father (and he really wasn't), but he thought grieving for Annie would take time and distance. Todd said he needed to get away and Benji, Tyler and Sarah needed real parents again. They needed family that could take care of them instead of the other way around.

Benji was furious. He would have to leave his friends, his school, even most of his stuff to go live with people he hardly knew in a town that wasn't even half the size of the city of Mobile. And it was so far away; Alabama and Colorado were practically on opposite sides of the country. Sarah recalled his angry declaration that their father just wanted to get rid of them. Todd merely endured the assault, silent and blank faced.

Tyler didn't say anything. He didn't even look at Todd. He just grabbed his phone and left. Soon after, Benji finished his rant and slammed himself into his bedroom. The living room became quiet, neither Sarah nor her father said anything for a while.

Todd finally looked at Sarah and asked, "I suppose you're quite upset as well?"

She felt sad, but not angry. She looked at her feet and wondered out loud if her own problems were the cause of Todd's sudden decision. "Is this because of me, Daddy? Is it because I can't handle it?" Her throat was thick with unshed tears, but she swallowed them back and looked up at her father with dry eyes.

"No, honey," he said. "This is because none of us can handle it. We need a change and we need time. This may seem extreme," he paused to run a hand through his already untidy hair, "but I think it will be a good thing for all of us." He hugged her tightly and she returned the embrace, but she felt nauseous with guilt inside.

Todd explained their grandparents in Mobile couldn't take care of them and Uncle Steve didn't have the time or the space, so they were going to Colorado, to live on the farm where Todd had grown up. Todd hadn't been there in a long time, but he'd spoken to Rachel at Annie's funeral and when he called them, they said they'd been happy to have the three teenagers stay for a year.

The idea of letting go and giving others her burdens was a nice one, but in reality it felt like jumping off a diving board blindfolded. She had no clue what to expect or how to behave, and she felt strangely out of control. Sarah tried to lock the memories away and let her mind go blank. She let the warmth of the bath and soothing scents envelope her, calm her.

Before she knew it, she dozed off. She woke, unsure of the time, after the bath water had gone cold. Groggily, she recalled draining the tub, drying off and wrapping up in the robe. She'd gone to the bedroom and curled up on top of the covers. The next thing she remembered was the golden dawnlight waking her.

The previous evening, Aunt Rachel said breakfast was, "early if you want it hot, late if you want it cold." Sarah wasn't exactly sure what Aunt Rachel classified as early or late, but figured she had a good chance of landing in the early category if she went ahead and got up now.

It was half past six according to the cell phone on her dresser. Sarah gathered her clothes and went into the bathroom. She chose a lemon scented shampoo and a bar of soap that smelled like honey before stepping into the shower. With clean hair and teeth she felt better and dressed in a baggy sport shorts and a loose t-shirt. She was lucky she used to be so athletic, she reminded herself. If not, she would have been forced to buy new clothes ages ago. As it was, she tended to dress as if she were always going to the gym.

Sarah tied her long blond hair back into a stringy ponytail and shoved her feet into a pair of black and white sneakers before starting down to breakfast. She didn't hear either of her brothers stirring, yet, and her sneakers carried her silently down the stairs.

### *****

### Chapter 7: A New Start

### *****

The kitchen was a sunny yellow room with red checked curtains at the windows that reminded Sarah of picnic blankets. Aunt Rachel was at the double stove, sliding bacon onto a serving plate when Sarah came through the door. She greeted Sarah brightly before setting the plate on the center of a large round table in a windowed breakfast nook. Uncle Matt was already seated with a newspaper open doing a crossword puzzle.

"An early riser, huh?" he said, looking up.

"I guess." Sarah sat down at the table, which was laid out with pitchers of milk and orange juice, plates of bacon, scrambled eggs and ham, a few bowls of strawberries and blackberries, and several kinds of cereal. The center was like a raised dais that rotated so all of the food items were within easy reach. "Neat table," she commented, spinning the middle around to grab a bowl, some berries, cereal, and milk.

"That it is," Uncle Matt said, to which Aunt Rachel snorted. She had a pink apron over ratty jeans and a Tasmanian devil t-shirt and was brandishing a spatula in their direction.

"Don't tell him that," she grumbled. "His head's big enough as it is."

"You made this?" Sarah guessed.

"My dad was a carpenter. I actually went to school for engineering, but decided to settle down to a simple farm life after being convinced it was paradise by pretty girl." He winked at Aunt Rachel when he said the last part and she rapped him lightly with her spatula, although she was grinning while she did it. He set the newspaper aside and grabbed a blueberry muffin from a plate Aunt Rachel set down.

"Neat," Sarah commented politely. She spooned up some of her cereal. The berries were sweet and fresh.

Grandpa came through the kitchen door and gave everyone a gruff '"good morning." He was dressed for labor, in jeans and a blue work-shirt. "I see you're up and about with the chickens," Grandpa observed. He took a seat across from Sarah.

Sarah nodded. She wasn't sure what to think about her grandfather after yesterday, but he seemed nice enough this morning. His shock of white hair floated around his head like a mane of cotton candy and his light blue eyes seemed keen, but friendly. He filled a plate with bacon and eggs, while Aunt Rachel fixed herself a bowl of berries with honey and purloined two muffins before sitting down next to Uncle Matt.

"This is the early crowd of the day," Uncle Matt informed Sarah. "Jessie won't be up for at least half an hour, though I can't imagine why anyone would laze about until the morning's half gone." He chuckled.

Grandpa asked, "Do your brothers sleep in? I know teenage boys tend to sleep the day away. Adam isn't seen until nearly noon in the summer months."

Though grandpa was smiling and cordial, Sarah hesitated to answer him. The truth was, she wasn't sure what her brothers' habits would be. She could make some guesses, but did grandpa want honesty or was he just making conversation? She supposed they would find out regardless, so she took the honest approach. "Tyler might be up, but he might not come down for a while. Benji is probably still sleeping and, will be," she added, "until someone gets him out of bed."

"Hmm .. ." Uncle Matt looked thoughtful. "I'll tell Jesse to check on them both after she has breakfast. Don't want to horn in on their rest, but the day's too beautiful to waste."

Sarah wasn't quite sure what she expected, but after months of having to regulate and reinforce her brothers' school schedule (they still tended to be late more often than not) she was relieved that it didn't seem to be a huge deal. Breakfast continued with Grandpa asking her questions while he dug into his eggs.

"Your father said you were a gymnast," he began, "but else do you like to do?"

Sarah answered in the past tense, since it had been some time before she'd done anything except look after the house. "I used to run track, too," she told her grandfather. "I guess I like to read and I can draw a little. I'm pretty boring," she hedged.

Grandpa was looking at her shrewdly. "I very much doubt," he said, "that you are boring." His manner made Sarah feel slightly uncomfortable and she was glad when Aunt Rachel interjected a question.

"How did you like the soaps and shampoos in your bathroom?" she wondered.

"They were great," Sarah replied enthusiastically. "They all had handwritten labels and I thought they might be homemade?" She turned her statement into a question.

"They are," Aunt Rachel answered. "We make them here. Well, mostly I make them," she added pointedly. She gestured vaguely outside with a coffee cup. "That's what I wanted to show you today. I commandeered a space in the stables years ago and use the flowers and fruits from the garden to make them. We sell them in a few shops in Durango and Grand Junction, and I take orders from some of the ladies in town, too."

That actually impressed her and Sarah said as much to her aunt. Aunt Rachel looked pleased and when Sarah finished her breakfast, suggested they go take a look. "I doubt your brothers will be interested," she said. Sarah doubted it too.

As they stood and took their bowls to the sink, Jessie came into the kitchen. Aunt Rachel told her she was taking Sarah to the stables and asked Jesse to check in on Benji and Tyler if they didn't come down for breakfast.

"No problem," Jesse mumbled. She sat down in Sarah's vacated seat and piled eggs and ham onto a plate with gusto. "If they're not down by the time I finish, I'll hunt them up, okay?" She looked to her parents for consent and they both said that was fine. Aunt Rachel then shuffled Sarah out a back door and into the early morning sunshine.

The backyard was huge. There were blooming hedges around the back of the house and a huge patio with a table set and a grill near the pool area. Beyond the patio were a large, gray tinged barn, and two small ponds and a few other outbuildings farther back. Aunt Rachel led her past the pond to a long, low red painted building, which she identified as the stables. She slid a tall paneled door to the side and entered the cool, dark structure.

"The horses are on the far side," she said pointing to a big opening on the left, "and Matt's workshop is in the back." She walked through an opening on the right, "This side,"Aunt Rachel said, "is my workshop."

Sarah thought 'workshop' was an understatement. The room contained a line of stainless steel countertops along one wall that had a large six-burner stove on one end and an industrial sink on the other. Pots, pans, bottles, and jars of every shape and size lined shelves on another wall. The far right wall had another sliding door that was half open letting in sunshine from a small herb garden. Above her, Sarah saw flowers and plants hanging from the rafters. Drying, she supposed. Aunt Rachel opened a cabinet near the shelves to show Sarah bins of dried citrus fruit, spices, and flowers. The finished products were stacked and grouped on a pair of big round tables in the center of the room.

"This is really sophisticated, Aunt Rachel," Sarah admitted. "Do you really sell all this stuff?" she asked as she began poking around.

Her aunt answered in the affirmative. "It actually makes a tidy profit. People like that its homemade and organic. Some of the celebrities up in Telluride send me orders and I can pretty much charge what I want."

"How did you get into this?" Sarah was curious to know.

"I made soap with my mother for a long time and we started experimenting with scents when I was about your age and just never stopped. After Jessie was born, I decided to see if I could make any money off my little hobby and set up a booth at the county fair. I sold out in two days," she explained proudly. "I gradually learned how to make more kinds of stuff, learned to extract the oils and make the bath salts and shampoo, and it just took off. Now that we have the internet I get orders from all over, not just local people." She sighed fondly over a few tins of soap. "It's really just something to do," she said, "I never thought I'd be making money at it."

"Do you make a lot?"

"Sometimes we get a better income from my 'smelly-goods' as your grandfather calls them, than we do on anything else."

"I guess you would," Sarah said. "Most people love natural beauty products and you're right," she added, "organic is in."

"I thought maybe you'd like to learn and could help me a bit this summer," Aunt Rachel suggested.

"Sure," Sarah agreed with little hesitation. "It might be fun. Do you make anything besides bath stuff?"

"I've been experimenting with makeup." Aunt Rachel pointed to a little desk in the corner stacked with books, note pads and a few jars and bottles. "That's a work in progress, but I make lotions and creams, too."

Sarah recalled seeing some jars and bottles of lotion in her bathroom cabinet. "Does Jessie help?" she wondered.

"Everyone pitches in now and then, but mostly I do it myself," she answered. "The others help with boxing and shipping and lend a hand sometimes, but they're not truly enamored of my little project." Aunt Rachel patted a stack of boxes that a scrolling green label. It read, 'Naturally Rachel' on the side, which Sarah guessed was what her aunt had named the brand. "I thought maybe you might have more of an interest," Aunt Rachel told her with a look that was both sly and friendly, as if she was laughing at her own cleverness.

It was pretty clever, Sarah thought. Everything she needed probably already grew on the property, most of it seemed simple to make, and Aunt Rachel made lots of money at it. Sarah liked the feeling of being surrounded by smells in the workshop. It was untidy and messy, but it sounded interesting and fun. Plus she'd always been a sucker at Bath and Body Works in the mall back home. If Aunt Rachel taught her, she'd be able to make her own stuff.

"Did you ever think about making body spray or perfume?" she asked hesitantly.

### *****

### Chapter 8: The Grand Tour

### *****

Jessie and Adam's tour began inside the house, since that was where the pair found Tyler and Benji, still dawdling over a cold breakfast. Jessie had fetched Adam earlier and together, they went over to the workshop first to get Sarah, who looked very different smiling and laughing with Aunt Rachel instead of the rather too serious girl she'd been yesterday upon her arrival. She greeted Adam and Jessie cheerfully and Aunt Rachel waved them off to begin their explorations with a reminder to stay inside the tree line.

The tree line, Sarah discovered, was the edge of a forest that surrounded the farm. It was technically where the wildlife sanctuary began. There were no paths and it was easy to get lost, so none of the kids were allowed to go beyond it, although Jessie said there were some blueberry bushes just inside to the south they could pick from. The main drive was also "safe" as long you stayed on the gravel, but it was a three mile walk, which Sylvie, Adam's mom, made every afternoon right after lunch to collect the mail at the gate. There was a bin disguised by the rock wall, Jessie informed her cousin, which was where the postman deposited the mail. Since they were so far out of town, they tended to get their mail a day late. "Which is why," Jessie said, "you'll always find yesterday's newspaper and not today's."

Sarah was amused by this assertion, which is why she was laughing when she entered the kitchen to find her brothers still at the table. This is also why both Tyler and Benji stared at her in shock and meekly put their dishes away before following Adam out into the main hall.

Tyler couldn't believe that was his sister and he shared a look with Benji; his little brother was obviously thinking the same thing. It was like invasion of the body snatchers in reverse, Tyler thought. Yesterday his sister had been the über-responsible robot they had come to depend on and today . . . . well, . . . today, she laughed.

Tyler had actually been dreading this little sight-seeing trip. Adam and Jessie were okay, but he wasn't ready to fully accept that he now lived on a farm in the middle of nowhere. More than likely, he thought, this "tour" would consist of instructions on how to feed the pigs or navigate animal droppings. It was not something to look forward to.

But his laughing sister surprised Tyler so much; he quickly fell into step next to Adam with Benji, Jessie, and Sarah right behind. Jessie and Adam began pointing out rooms and doors on the first floor and Tyler found himself actually curious about the house and grounds.

The South side of the first floor consisted of the parlor, the dining room and the kitchen, which they had all seen last night. Jessie showed them another room, which was more of an informal living room that Jessie referred to as the 'den' that opened onto the roman terrace with the swimming pool. It looked comfortable, with a big television at one end and a big sectional sofa. There was also a cellar accessible from this floor.

The North side consisted of a small bathroom and a windowless library with built-in book shelves covering the walls and a huge oaken mantelpiece above the fireplace. There were comfy chairs scattered about and tall lamps with green shades. Across the hall from the library were double doors that Jessie said led into the private study.

Curiuosly, Jessie and Adam veered away from that door insisting they move on. According to them, the room was where grandpa did the accounting, a delicate and sometimes frustrating task. Nobody but Grandpa and Aunt Rachel usually ventured inside. Tyler passed the door with some hesitation, before following his guides into the bottom part of the tower at the far end of the house.

The room's dimensions were the same as Jessie and Sarah's bedrooms. It had the same floor to ceiling type window, but the walls and floor were stone and there were potted plants and lounging chairs scattered about. Jessie called it the conservatory like in the game of Clue. It opened out into the garden, but Adam suggested they go out front first and save the garden for later. The three already knew what was on the second and third floors and that the top of the stairwell led to an attic, so Adam led the way back to the foyer and out the front door.

The front consisted of nothing but the circular driveway which had a little hedge garden and a bird bath in the middle. Adam said he sometimes ran the length of the drive to gate and back in the mornings, but usually only when he was in training. He explained that he played basketball and ran track for the local high school. "If you run the circle and lane all the way to the gate and back, that's seven miles," he said. Tyler had to agree that was a pretty good workout, but he wasn't anxious to join Adam any time soon.

Around the south corner of the house was what Tyler wanted to see since his arrival: the Roman pool. It was bigger than expected and ran along the side of the house. The columns gave it an air of impressiveness. Jessie said there were pipes beneath it that heated the water in winter, so they could swim year-round if they wanted.

To the left was a cabana-like structure that Jessie and Adam said was the pool house. They showed off a room with showers and wooden closets for changing and a giant storage unit filled with pool toys and filters and other maintenance odds and ends.

Moving on, they went around to the side of the pool house. The area was made up of a neatly mowed field with a shed. "For playing croquet," Jesse told them.

"Or football," Adam chimed in and Tyler and Benji both agreed it was just the right size for a game of touch football.

Next to the croquet field was the life-size chess board Dad had spoken of. The king and queen were as tall as Benji, but surprisingly easy to move. Tyler wondered aloud what they were made of.

"Plaster, I think," Jesse answered him. "They have to be put up during winter, but even then my dad has to touch them up a little every year."

Continuing westward, diagonal from the chess board, Adam led the way to the caretaker's cottage, where he and his family lived. It was a squat, square building with a wide front porch and large windows. As they approached the two story structure, an excited squeal came from the interior and suddenly the little girl from the night before was jumping up and down tugging at Adam's hand. She was talking so fast Tyler hardly understood her.

"We're going to make blackberry pies today!" she exclaimed happily, "but Mama said I could come with you guys since I know exactly where everything is and I've got enough energy to take you around the house twice at least!"

Tyler figured the kid must be driving her mom nuts and didn't really mind the addition. After the girl introduced herself to everyone ("I'm Kimberly Elizabeth Landy, but you can call me Kimmy because it's shorter!") the group set off towards the middle of the farm.

Adam pointed out the fish pond with its little dock and row boat on the other side of his cottage before leading everyone to the barn. He pushed a big gray door open and ushered everyone inside. The barn was longer than it was wide and not very tall. There was a group of milking cows in a pen towards the back and a hay loft above them.

Outside, Jessie and Adam led them around two small ponds that had ducks and geese roaming around, which Kimmy chased gleefully. They passed a chicken coop, a rabbit hutch, pens of pigs, goats and a few more cows before reaching the stables.

The low, red building housed five horses, each with their name above the stall door. Jessie said they were mainly used for going out and checking the sanctuary fences. Across from the horse stalls was a big, smelly workshop, which Sarah had already been to. She said Aunt Rachel made soaps and stuff there and sold them. Tyler shrugged at that, holding his nose at the overwhelming smell, and followed Adam and Kimmy through another door that led outside to a little garden.

Beyond the garden, was a huge tilled field growing profusely with rows of vegetables. Sarah was asking about the kinds of produce the farm harvested, but Tyler and Benji rounded the back of the stables with Adam before they heard an answer. Back here, there was a big glass structure partially concealed in the center of a small orchard.

"That's the greenhouse," Kimmy said, popping up by Tyler's side. She grabbed his hand began naming off the trees in front of them. "These ones are apple, and those are pears," she informed him solemnly. "We grow oranges, too, but they have to stay in the greenhouse because of the weather."

Strange kid, Tyler thought, but he let her lead him to a big shed farther back along the side of the field. "Daddy!!" she squealed and ran off ahead. David Landy was working on a big tractor-like contraption with Grandpa and Uncle Matt. The building behind him was a large equipment shed housing a multitude of farm-type machinery that Tyler fervently hoped no one expected him to use.

"I expect you've seen most everything by now, if you're back here," Grandpa greeted them.

Jessie came up beside Tyler saying, "Everything but the gardens. Adam said we should save the maze for last."

"Sounds reasonable to me," Grandpa said. Looking at his watch he reminded them that lunch wasn't too far away and told them not to get lost in the maze.

"I never get lost!" Kimmy declared, running from her father's arms back the way they'd come.

"She sure doesn't," Uncle Matt commented and David laughed.

"That's my girl; uncanny sense of direction and enough energy to go places," David agreed.

Grandpa waved them off with another reminder to keep track of the time. Tyler looked at his watch and realized they'd been wandering the grounds for over two hours! This place was larger than he thought. They had an hour and a half until lunch, which Jesse said was always precisely at noon.

The gardens were, Tyler admitted, beautiful. A gravel path led them into hollow spaces between flower beds with fountains or benches and then curved back out and around to more shrubs, bushes, and beds of flowers, most of which Tyler couldn't name. Jessie, Sarah, and Kimmy took turns classifying some of them. Tyler spotted some roses and recognized a big stone urn of violets before they finally reached a giant arch in the eight foot tall hedge that surrounded the main garden.

"After you," Kimmy said exaggerated politeness, waving the rest of them forward.

"We're not really going to get lost in here are we?" Sarah asked a little nervously.

"No," Adam assured her, "the maze isn't that big and there's not that much to it, even you actually got lost, you'd end up at the exit sooner or later."

"Isn't there some Greek myth where someone always turned left to get through a maze with some monster in it?" Tyler recalled.

"A minotaur," Jessie spoke up. "It's true that if you always turn left, or right for that matter, you'll eventually find the exit." She shrugged, "Luckily our maze is so small it only takes about half an hour or so to navigate."

"Then I suppose we should get to navigating," Benji interjected with attitude. Tyler thought he wasn't near as bored as he was pretending to be. He suspected his little brother was truly anxious to see the inside of the maze.

"Lead on, good sir," Sarah said with a smile, mimicking Kimmy's embellished manners and gestured for Benji to take the lead. Tyler vaguely wondered at Sarah's good mood again before following them into the maze.

The maze actually took them an hour to get through, mostly because Kimmy kept running off and no one wanted to leave her in the maze by herself. Benji grudgingly admitted the maze was one of the cooler things he'd ever seen, even thought it was small. There were shallow recesses cut into the hedge were statues stood and they found two round "rooms." One with a small wicker table and chairs that Kimmy declared was for tea parties, and one with a stagnant fountain and a stone bench. All in all, Tyler couldn't help being impressed with the ornate garden and the surrounding grounds. This wasn't an ordinary "farm" by anyone's standards.

### *****

By the time they finished, it was nearly time for lunch, so they each went their separate ways to wash up. Benji admitted he felt grimy from his trek around the farm. Jessie showed Benji and Sarah a stone stairway imbedded in the side of the stone tower. It led first to Jessie's balcony, then to Sarah's. Sarah went into her bedroom through the glass door on her balcony and Benji went to his room through hers. He couldn't help but think the farm and house were awesome.

Despite the irate feelings he'd gone to bed with, he woke up that morning feeling rested and fine. Jessie knocked on his door to tell to come to breakfast, but he was already up by then. He dressed, nearly forgot to brush his teeth, and went down to breakfast quickly, meeting Tyler in the hallway.

They found they were the last stragglers of the morning and Tyler groused a bit about the cold eggs but ate two helpings anyway. Benji gathered some ham, eggs, and toast and made a breakfast sandwich. Jessie told them she had errands to run before they set off on their tour and left them to it. Benji and Tyler lingered over their food in silence until she came back.

When his laughing sister came through the door with Jessie, Benji had just finished his sandwich. That was fortunate because he might have choked on it otherwise. Remembering his unkind thoughts about her robot-like personality, he had a hard time believing it was really Sarah laughing with Adam and Jessie. For a brief moment, he'd actually thought it was his mom entering the kitchen. The lost illusion left him sullen and resentful again.

The tour began before the shock wore off and Benji found himself traipsing along after the older teens through the house and then across the grounds. He thought the pool and the giant chess board were alright and liked all the animals they had around, especially the horses. He wondered if maybe Uncle Matt or Grandpa would teach him to ride over the summer.

Aunt Rachel's workshop smelled like an incense shop. It was overpowering, but also comforting and homey. The orchard was nice, but what he really wanted to see was the inside of the equipment shed. He regretted they hadn't been able poke around inside. Benji was curious as to what all that stuff actually did.

The gardens were sickeningly beautiful, Benji thought. It was something out of a fairy-tale with the stone tower rising up on one side and the hedge maze on the other. But Benji didn't put a lot of stock into fairy tales and tried to ignore the bright flowers waving in the summer wind. They irrationally annoyed him.

Now he washed his face and hands, relieved to get rid of the grime, but aware that he'd probably accumulate more dirt after lunch. Unless he went swimming. Perhaps he would dig out his swim trunks after they ate. Unlike Sarah, who he noticed had either unpacked or shoved all her suitcases in her closet, Benji's things were strewn about the room. His duffle bags and boxes were half empty and lying in the corners. He'd unpack later. Maybe.

He didn't meet anyone in the hall on his way down. Of course, Tyler and Sarah both had balconies with stairs that led to the yard so they could have gone down that way and Benji wouldn't have been the wiser. That wasn't really fair; Benji didn't have any outside stairs, but he began to hope his room had a secret passage or something equally remarkable waiting to be discovered. The way this house looked, it had to have at least one secret passage.

In the kitchen, Aunt Rachel recruited him to carry a heavy tray of fruit outside to the table on the patio. Most of the family and staff were there already, David Landy, Uncle Matt and Grandpa were sitting at the oblong table already. Sylvie Landy had Kimmy by the hand and was leading her over. Jessie and Adam seemed to be having a thumb war at one end of the table while Tyler slouched at the other next to Grandpa.

Benji set down his tray and took a seat followed by Sarah, Aunt Rachel, and Sylvie. Once everyone was seated they began passing plates around and piling them with food. There were three trays on the table, one with grapes and strawberries, one with turkey and ham sandwiches, and another with pickles, lettuce, tomatoes, onions and various dressings.

"Where do you eat lunch if it rains?" Benji asked around a mouthful of turkey sandwich.

"Sometimes the dining room or the conservatory," Aunt Rachel answered. She was sitting between Benji and Sarah gathering the makings for a ham sandwich. "Sometimes the breakfast table or we set lunch out on the buffet table in the parlor and we fend for ourselves."

"Do you ever eat out here in winter?" Sarah asked with a nod toward what looked like a large outdoor fireplace at one end of the patio.

"Not deep winter, no. Sometimes spring and fall, though. It can be quite picturesque with a blaze going, but winter up here is still a bit too cold for an outdoor dinner party."

"That's right," Sylvie piped up in surprise, "I completely forgot that you kids are from such a warm climate. Winter will be something of an extreme for you, but hopefully you'll enjoy it."

"None of us has seen much snow," Sarah admitted.

"Really?" Jessie asked curiously.

"Nope," Tyler answered her before Sarah could. "We went to Switzerland with our dad once for a conference. There was still snow in the Alps despite it being high summer, but we didn't really get out in it or anything."

"It's snowed a few times in Mobile," Sarah added, "but it never sticks to the ground and doesn't last long."

"You've been to Switzerland?" Jessie exclaimed.

The conversation seemed to bounce around the table, going rapidly from one subject to the next with so many people involved. It was nearly like a high school cafeteria, Benji thought. They never had meals like this back home. The thought made him bitter despite the energy of his table-mates. Even Tyler entered the fray and was talking to Jessie and Sylvie about places they'd traveled.

When the noise died down and people began to clear their plates, Grandpa cleared his throat for attention. He asked Benji, Sarah, and Tyler to come with him to the study after they helped clean up the table. It sounded slightly ominous to Benji, but the others seemed to think it was not unexpected. Uncle Matt and Sylvie and David Landy carted the now empty trays back to the kitchen. Aunt Rachel commandeered Kimmy and Jessie to help wash the dishes and threw a wet rag at Adam, telling him to wipe up the mess on the table. Since they didn't seem to be needed, Tyler led the way behind Grandpa to the study.

Grandpa's super-secret private study didn't look like anything special to Benji. It had a huge desk sitting between two wide windows paned with dark green glass. There were bins and book shelves along the walls interspersed with filing cabinets and what looked like old library card catalogues. It felt messy and crowded in here despite the fact that the desk was clear and the shelves uncluttered. It was actually a large room, but the desk took up a lot of space and the rest was taken up by four bugundy leather chairs and tattered blue couch in the far corner, so it felt much smaller than it actually was..

When Sarah entered behind Benji, Grandpa motioned for her to close the door. He took a seat behind the desk, propped his elbows on the surface and steepled his fingers. Benji suddenly felt like he'd been sent to the principals without knowing exactly why. He hoped none of them had done something wrong, they'd barely been here twenty-four hours. They weren't in trouble already, were they?

Tyler slouched in one of the burgundy chairs and Benji followed suite. Sarah sat gingerly on the edge of the chair farthest right, as if she, too, were suddenly afraid they might be trouble. Tyler also looked more than a little nervy and Benji was sure his own face betrayed his discomfort. Grandpa did that throat clearing thing again until he had their attention and lowered his hands, palms down, as if he was pushing against the desktop. He made a forbidding figure seated behind the massive desk.

Grandpa's sharp blue eyes rested briefly on each of them before he finally spoke. "We need to talk," he declared.

### *****

### Chapter 9: The Rules

### *****

Grandpa's face was too serious for Tyler's liking. "You're not in trouble," Grandpa said, surprising Tyler. "However, there are things we need to go over, rules you'll have to follow, and I need to make sure that the three of you understand and agree to those rules."

Tyler gave a mental huff, relieved that his grandfather wasn't using all this intimidating energy as a punishment for an unknown crime. He'd wondered this morning if there would be a list of chores or rules for them to follow and he supposed he was about to find out.

The old man still looked far too grave for Tyler's piece of mind, but in his experience, it was par for the course when dealing with authority figures. Maybe they thought if they were serious enough, their charges would be serious too. Tyler knew this tactic rarely worked, but he didn't think pointing it out to anyone would be very helpful or well-recieved.

"I don't have a lot rules for you and most of them are simple." Grandpa Lee rubbed his chin absently before continuing, "However, I know that you're more likely to listen to what I say if I explain myself and let you ask questions or lodge a protest here and now, instead of later on."

"That makes sense," Sarah agreed. She had loosened up, settling back into her chair, but she still sat upright and alert. She glanced at her brothers for their input. Benji just shrugged, but Tyler nodded in accord. He was curious now as to the exact nature of these new mandates for their behavior.

"Good," Grandpa said with a slight smile. He relaxed his arms and leaned back in his chair. Sunlight streamed through the green glass window and gave Grandpa's mane of white hair a melon colored tinge. It reminded Tyler of the first time Dorothy and her crew met the Great and Powerful Wizard of Oz. He hoped grandpa wouldn't turn out to be as phony as that guy.

"You've already seen this is a working farm," Grandpa began, "but this is also a place of refuge for endangered species. It is my responsibility to care for these creatures and see that they aren't harmed in any way. They must be able to live and grow in peace, hopefully, even in prosperity." His wrinkled hands were flat on the desk again. "For you, this means staying off the sanctuary property."

"Aren't we on that property just being on the farm?" Tyler asked.

"No," answered Grandpa, "the land the manor and farm occupy is not technically part of the wildlife sanctuary. The protected areas begin just beyond the tree line that surrounds the farm."

"Just how do you keep them separate? And what kind of stuff is out there?" Benji demanded.

"Just beyond the tree line we've taken precautions to prevent any animals from wandering the farm. We use certain scents and things repulsive to the wildlife population to keep them in check."

"What kind of wildlife?" Tyler was genuinely interested in what was beyond that boundary. It was the contrary nature of most teens to find breaking a rule extremely appealing simply because it was a rule. Tyler was no exception, but he also really wanted to know.

"The most fragile of the animals out there are probably the birds. We have some incredibly dangerous creatures, too, like wolves. There are also certain endangered plants growing here. Some of the caves are protected places, too," Grandpa added, "along with the animals that live in them."

"So, like birds and bats and trees and stuff?" Benji said disgustedly. "That doesn't sound too interesting, except for maybe the wolves."

"Yes," Grandpa agreed, "the more dangerous a thing is, the more interesting it seems to us. But the more mundane wildlife is just as carefully protected. Some of our inhabitants are the only ones left of their kind in the entire world."

Benji huffed at that. "Why does that mean we get to be trapped in the yard?" he asked pointedly.

"You might accidently crush and animal's burrow just by walking on it," Grandpa explained patiently. "That creature's home would then be destroyed without you ever knowing. The very oils in your skin can be harmful to certain plants and stunt the growth of rock formations in caves. It's very easy to cause harm and often it is done by an unaware aggressor."

"But don't you have to go into the Sanctuary?" Benji inquired acidly. His younger brother's antagonistic behavior was beginning to get on Tyler's nerves, but Grandpa seemed unfazed by it.

"Sure do," Grandpa replied genially. "I have to check on the living conditions, count the populace, and mend boundaries and fences." He sounded friendly, but Tyler was aware that his gaze was still stern and unflinching. He was glad it was focused on Benji and not him.

"This is why we use horses, instead of trucks or other vehicles," the old man continued. "It's an effort to disturb nature as little as possible." Grandpa rubbed his chin again and looked thoughtful.

"If you were to go beyond the tree line, you would not find any paths. There are no true markers or lanes that I follow when I go out. I take a compass and map of the territory when I go and even then I tend to get turned around," admitted Grandpa. "This is another reason not to go beyond the tree line: it's easy to get lost."

"So, to clarify," Sarah affirmed, "we're not allowed to go beyond the tree line?"

Grandpa nodded. "Unless you've got my express permission and are in my company, there should be no trespassing in the sanctuary."

"Do Jessie, Adam and Kimmy have to follow these rules too? Or are they 'more experienced' than us?" Benji interjected in voice dripping with sarcasm and disdain. It made Tyler want to groan. Instead, he asked Grandpa to clarify exactly what was out of bounds.

Grandpa ignored Benji's remarks and told them the circular drive and the lane up to the gate were 'safe.' They were allowed to take walks or runs down to the gate and back or get the mail with Sylvie, but they were advised to stay on the driveway and not wander into the trees on either side. "Getting lost is much easier than getting found," warned Grandpa.

"These rules apply to everyone," Grandpa said. "We treat everybody fair." He asked the three teens if they agreed to this rule or had any more questions. When all three shook their heads (except Benji, who just shrugged again), they were each prompted to consent to the rule out loud before Grandpa moved on.

"Another place to stay out of," Grandpa informed them, "is this study." His wrinkled hands gestured around the room. "I have to keep very detailed records, which means there's a heck of lot of paperwork. Besides the fact that I don't like to be interrupted, it would be easy for someone to misplace something important or shuffle papers that might have taken me a week to put in order. So aside from this meeting, I want you kids to stay out of here. Got it?"

Tyler resented being referred to as "you kids" and considered it vaguely insulting but he didn't have any objections to the rule, itself. There was the library if he wanted a book or a quiet place to read and this room was kind of creepy, anyway. He didn't have a problem staying out of it.

"Alright," Grandpa said, "let's go over chores and responsibilities."

Tyler heard Benji groan beside him and barely refrained from doing so himself. He might have been expecting such a conversation, but that didn't mean he'd been looking forward to it.

"It won't be so awful," Grandpa said frowning at Benji. "Each of you will have to help do whatever needs doing during the morning hours, which means you'll have to get up early with the rest of us." The old man turned to include each of them in his frowning gaze. "After noon, though, you'll be free to do what you want with your days."

"What exactly are we going to have to do?" Tyler wanted to know. He was no farmer.

"Your aunt will need occasional help with the scents and soaps," Grandpa clarified. "You'll also learn how to take care of some of the livestock and tend to the garden and crops. There's never a lack of chores." Tyler wasn't exactly comfortable with this, but he didn't figure he could get out of it, either. "I hope that's not unreasonable for any of you?" Grandpa asked them.

Tyler didn't complain and neither did Sarah. He really wasn't excited by the prospect of doing farm work (whatever that entailed) every day, but there were probably worse ways to dole out chores than giving them half a day's labor. It wasn't the slave labor Tyler had been secretly dreading, but it wasn't a free pass either. He could live with that.

He thought Benji would argue against the chores, but the kid stayed quiet. He'd folded his arms in front of him and was glaring defiantly, but it was just show. Benji muttered his assent with the rest of them.

"Before you go," Grandpa said, "I wanted to make sure we were clear on something else." He looked uncomfortable, but his pale blue eyes were warmer as he addressed them. "You're Aunt and Uncle and I want you to have no doubts about we feel having you kids here."

Tyler sucked in a breath, afraid the next statement was either going to be mean or sappy. He wasn't normally a fan of sappy, but right now, he was hoping it was the latter. The former would be too much to handle for all three of them.

"I don't agree with Todd going off for a year so soon after your mom's death," Grandpa began. His face hardened for a minute, but went soft again when he continued. "But I'm happy to have you three here." A breath Tyler hadn't realized he was holding whooshed past his lips. "For lots of reasons: time, responsibility and the like, I haven't been able to get to know you as well I would've liked. I'm grateful to have a chance to change that. I just wanted to assure you that you're wanted and that we'll all give you whatever help and support you need. And if you don't need anything at all," he added gruffly, "that's all right too."

Sappy it was, and an awkward silence followed his grandfather's declaration. Tyler was unsure of how to respond. He might actually like these people, but he still resented the sudden departure from his own life. He cleared his throat loudly, hoping to break through the awkwardness. Sarah said a soft "thanks" and Benji grunted in reply. They were both looking as uncomfortable as Tyler felt. Even Grandpa looked ill at ease.

"Yup," Grandpa declared abruptly, as if that summed everything up. He slammed his hands on the surface of the desk and pushed to his feet. "Talking's done, go find something to occupy yourselves and I'll see you at dinner." Grandpa opened the study door and motioned for them all to precede him. They filed out quickly and Tyler rushed up to his room for a much needed music break. He wouldn't mind cultivating a little forgetfulness after that meeting.

### *****

A huge splash erupted from the pool when Benji canon-balled in. The cool water engulfed him and he quickly stretched out and stroked to the surface. The pool wasn't very deep and he'd nearly sunk to the bottom after that last dive, so he considered abandoning the game when he gulped in air. He swam to the side of the pool and pulled himself out of the water.

"I wish it was deeper," he called out to Jessie. She was lying on a lounger at the edge of the pool in a dark purple swimsuit with a red ball cap shading her eyes. She seemed intent on a paperback book, but looked up to answer him.

"I know, it's pretty shallow compared to the community center, but I can trade in size for comfort and crowd control."

"The community center?" Benji inquired, grabbing a towel from a nearby chair.

"Like a YMCA," his cousin explained. "They just finished it a few years ago. It has a big outdoor pool with high dives. The depth goes down nearly twenty feet, but the whole town shows up during the summer; too noisy."

"I guess," Benji said. Jessie went back to her book and Benji commandeered another lounger to finish drying off in the sun. He put his hands behind his head and looked around at the pool. This had to be the most awesome house he'd ever seen, though, he'd probably keep that thought to himself for a while. He was still angry at having to be here at all, despite the cool house.

After the meeting with Grandpa, he went upstairs and lay on his bed willing his mind to process day. The tour had been alright, he wasn't much interested in the farm, but he liked the oversized chessboard and the maze. Lunch was different, all that talking and cheeriness. Everyone acting like it was okay that Mom was dead and Dad had pretty much abandoned his kids. Benji huffed to himself in disgust. And that pow-wow was . . . interesting.

When Grandpa said that he really wanted them there, Benji felt an odd mixture of relief and resentment. It was an awkward moment, but he felt slightly better about living here after that conversation. It helped to know that his grandfather was disappointed in his dad, too. Benji had wondered if he encouraged Dad to go, but it seemed like Grandpa was almost as upset by Dad's behavior as Benji was. It felt good to have his own anger validated and, by some contrariness it helped to reduce his anger, too.

Feeling more tolerant of his new (temporary) home, Benji decided he might as well take advantage of such a lavish place. He jumped up from his bed and dug around in a duffle bag until he produced a pair of orange swim trunks. He changed quickly and discovered Jessie and Adam already there and having a race in the blue water of the swimming pool.

Benji hesitated, he hoped that he could have some time to goof off by himself. He sat on one of the loungers and watched Jessie beat Adam in the contest. When she surfaced after sweeping her red hair back under the water, she spotted Benji. She and Adam both cajoled him into joining and eventually Benji did, but neither he nor Adam could beat Jessie. She was fast.

After Adam tired, he said he was going fishing and invited both Benji and Jessie to join him. When they both declined he went hunting for a more willing participant and they hadn't seen him since. Benji assumed he found someone and Adam was probably baiting hooks by now.

Jessie got bored with racing and stroked around lazily in the pool before getting out to dry off. She'd taken up her current position on the lounger about a half hour ago while Benji continued to swim. Now Benji was bored and tried to think of something new to engage in, somehow TV didn't hold much of an appeal.

A chill breeze wafted over the pool. In Mobile, he'd have considered the day too cold to swim. Despite the sunshine, the air raised goose bumps across his arms.

After considering a few options and rejecting them, Benji settled on checking out the chess board while no one else was around. He shoved his feet into a pair flip-flops and put on the dry shirt he'd brought with him. After a yelled goodbye to Jessie, to which she replied with an absentminded wave, he tromped around the pool house to the big chess board.

The tallest pieces were his height, but when he tested them, found they weren't hard to move. They seemed hollow. Benji was not a chess player normally. He knew the names of most of the pieces; the smallest were pawns, the castle-like ones were rooks, the horses were knights, and there was a king and queen. His fuzzy knowledge didn't include the pieces that looked vaguely like Papal hats, but that didn't overly concern him. The board itself was stone with inlaid marble squares in black and white.

Benji began moving pawns and rooks about, not really trying to remember the actual game rules, but rather imagining a raging battle. He shuffled the brigade of white pawns so that they clashed with the black ones. The white ones ended up with enormous losses, but they rallied their knights for a counter attack. Benji hazily recalled that chess was a mock battle anyway, so he figured envisioning a war was as good a strategy as any. The black knight ended the battle by slaying the white king and, though their numbers were decimated, the black side reigned victorious.

Benji began to reset the pieces and prepare for another battle when he found himself staring into the tree line. The chess board wasn't that far from the forested boundary. The trees didn't look special or anything, but, perhaps because of Grandpa's rule rather than anything inherent in the trees, they gave Benji a chilly feeling of foreboding.

What was beyond the tree line? Were wolves waiting in the dark patches of forest? Maybe they were watching from a distance, watching the silly human boy play pretend soldiers with giant pieces. The thought both scared and embarrassed him. He tried to push the fierce faces of wolves out of his mind, but didn't have much luck. The game lost its allure, too, and Benji left the chessmen where they lay.

On his way back to the manor, he felt a tingling between his shoulder blades. The sensation of being watched. He shuddered, but forced himself to keep going without turning back. He wasn't a weakling and he wasn't afraid of a bunch of stupid wolves that may or may not be in the forest. He rolled his shoulders to dispel the eerie feeling, but hurried a little faster towards the pool.

### *****

Dinner was a quieter affair this evening. Benji sat between Tyler and Uncle Matt facing Aunt Rachel. She asked him about his day and, but he was reluctant to talk, embarrassed over his afternoon imaginings. As conversation sprang up around him, he noticed that Sarah and Tyler were also hesitating to jump in. Grandpa may have said they were wanted and welcome, but they had yet to truly feel comfortable.

Aunt Rachel smiled at Benji from across the table and asked about his day. Benji gave her a typical vague answer. The unfamiliar chaos left him tense and ill at ease.

Luckily, the food was good and Benji could concentrate on that. There was soup, broccoli, carrots, and spicy tenders laid around the long table. Benji used mouthfuls of warm food to keep from talking too much, although he couldn't avoid it completely. He mumbled something about the big chessboard, which he instantly regretted when Grandpa butted. He offered to teach him the rules of chess if he wanted, but Benji declined.

"It doesn't seem like that much fun," Benji said.

"True enough, I suppose," Grandpa conceded. "The game takes patience and forward thinking. It's an ancient exercise in strategy more the anything else. Most people take it quite seriously."

"Including you," Aunt Rachel interjected with a chuckle.

Grandpa laughed in agreement. "The rules limit your moves and maneuvers," Grandpa went on with his explanation, though no one had asked him to. Apparently, the man liked chess. "The goal is not to defeat your opponent necessarily, but to confine him, trap him. That's checkmate."

"Why not destroy him, if he's your enemy?" Benji wondered aloud.

Grandpa chewed a bite of chicken thoughtfully before answering. "To destroy him might bring temporary satisfaction," Grandpa said. "But soon another would rise up against you and you'd just have to deal with him too, starting the game all over again. If you leave your opponent with no options and have studied him carefully before reaching that point, then you can get concessions from him, make an example of him or give him horrible punishment."

"Concessions?" Benji asked, wrinkling his forehead at the unfamiliar word.

"Land, money, titles. In older times enemies were publicly humiliated or kept around for a false sense of leadership. Lands could be ruled by puppet kings with an emperor holding the strings and collecting the profits."

"That sounds pretty brutal," Benji said, intrigued.

"Sometimes death and destruction is actually the least effective conclusion, rather than the most."

"Dad," Aunt Rachel said with a look at Benji, "don't scare the boy! You'll give him nightmares about marauding chess pieces!"

Grandpa just chuckled and changed the subject.

### *****

That night Benji did have strange dreams, but they weren't of chess. He was running barefoot in the forest, following a figure that glowed like moonlight. It was a woman in a white dress with a ragged hem, revealing strong iridescent legs that bounded quickly away. Benji tried desperately to get close enough to see her face, but she remained ahead of him in the shadows of the trees. He could hear her weeping, but she kept running.

As Benji followed, his brother came up beside him; somehow walking but still keeping pace with Benji's quick strides. He was dark though, like a negative copy of Tyler. When Benji tried to look directly into his face it changed. The skin roiled and became a black wolf's face with Tyler's body. It growled and lunged at Benji in the darkness and he stumbled backward to get away from it, falling and losing the white figure in the process.

Benji braced for an attack, but the Wolf-Tyler was gone and, he found himself huddled at the edge of a cliff. The bright woman was waiting a few paces away, her face turned to the sky. Benji stood up slowly, noticing for the first time that it wasn't really dark; everything was just gray like a bad black and white movie. He approached the figure, overcome with need to see her face. He reached out to touch her shoulder but just before his fingertips brushed the sleeve of her dress she turned and faced him.

It was his mother! She was here! She gave a curt shake of her head. No. It wasn't Mom. It was Sarah. It was his sister before him on the cliff with tears leaving even brighter tracks down her face. She was crying in rivulets of moonlight. Her eyes were frightened and sad, but it just made Benji angry. Why was his sister here and not his mother? He didn't care about Sarah! Where was Mom?! Sarah could not take her place! Enraged, he reached back without thinking to shove her over the cliff.

A howl stopped him, mid-motion. He and the glowing Sarah faced the sound. Three wolves stepped out of the forest. Pacing across the shadowy landscape, one wolf was black, one was gray, and one was a dark red, the only color in this washed out world. Benji took a step back automatically, forgetting the cliff and stumbling backwards. Sarah grabbed him before he fell and pushed him to safety, but the wolves sprang forward in attack. In the midst of claws and teeth, Sarah was ripped away. Benji watched her fall clutching the snarling red wolf in a desperate embrace. She disappeared into the darkness, her light going out.

The other two wolves had stopped to see her fall. The Black wolf looked up at Benji, before its fur disappeared, sucked into its skin, and it stood facing him like a human. It was Tyler again, except this Tyler had red eyes and black blood dripping from his mouth. This Tyler wasn't human. The Not-Tyler bared fangs and growled. Benji stepped back, but it rushed him with inhuman speed, teeth snapping as if it was still a wolf.

Benji woke breathing heavily. It was dark out, but regular dark, not gray. It was just a dream, a strange, stupid dream, he thought. Sleep was making his mind fuzzy. Benji untangled his covers and sat up. He didn't see any glowing Sarahs or Wolf-Tylers. Just a dream, he thought, collapsing back into his pillows. He fell asleep again, shoving the nightmare away.

### *****

### Chapter 10: Run

### *****

The tennis shoes stared at Sarah from the floor. They were white with jagged pink stripes along their sides. They sat in front of the bedroom door where they'd been for the last four days. Sarah thought they seemed more ominous and demanding this morning. "Wear us," they said, "Run with us, run away." Her imagination seemed increasingly drawn to Stephen King-like personifications of the shoes.

Sarah had placed the running shoes there after her sit-down with Grandpa and her siblings. Grandpa's assurances had made her feel confident and comforted, secure in her place in the world. She hadn't felt anything but sadness and fatigue in so long.

Many months ago, the tennis shoes had become a symbol of her old life, the life with gymnastics and cheerleading and Mom. After Grandpa's talk, Sarah had felt she was ready to go back to that, to exercise, to be happy again and healthy. She wanted to dispel the bloating sorrow that made her weary inside and out. So she placed the shoes where she would have to see them, as a reminder she wanted to take a run down the drive in the morning. Only she hadn't done that.

For four days, Sarah got up early— before sunrise, woken by the jarring alarm on her cell phone. She stretched and sat up and stared at the shoes. But she did not put them on and she did not run. She couldn't. Because every time she saw them with their happy pink swooshes, she became afraid. Afraid of her own emotions and how much the shoes represented. Those two simple items transformed into a weight she suddenly wasn't sure she could bear.

Every morning she would contemplate them despondently, all her good intentions buried under doubt and unhappiness. Eventually, she got up and steadfastly ignored them. She didn't move them, though, instead Sarah stepped around them to slide out the door.

Not today, she determined, glaring at the insistent faces of leather and string. Today she felt compelled to grab a pair of socks and shove her feet into the shoes. She would run today. It was a need for escape and release that Sarah only partially understood.

Without giving her doubts time to surface, she dressed in baggy shorts and a sport top. She carried the shoes down the stairs and out the front the door, her socked feet not making a sound on the polished wooden floors. In almost trance-like motions, she laced up the shoes and began a slow jog around the circular drive, the gravels crunching softly beneath her feet. Once around the circle, she sped up to a run, already breathing hard. She gritted her teeth with resolve and headed down the lane towards the gate.

Her breath came in puffs. The early June morning was still quite chilly, but the motions of her legs quickly warmed her. Left, right, left, right. Quick, quick, quick. Bend the knees a bit, swing the arms from the shoulders, push forward and forward and faster and faster. She focused on the activity with a near obsessive concentration and picked up her pace.

Sarah's legs blurred beneath her, her heart pounded in her chest, her blood roared up in her ears. She began to feel sick to her stomach and her muscles ached and burned, but she pressed on and sped up again instead of stopping. Her body, unused to the activity, protested harshly, and after only a mile or so, she involuntarily doubled forward and dry-heaved into the gravel.

Sarah tried desperately to get air into her lungs and calm herself, but she could not assuage a sudden burst of irrational panic. She couldn't stop— had to get up— had to keep going. If she didn't she would feel and she didn't want to feel anything. She just wanted to run.

Sarah tried to push herself up, but her knees collapsed and scraped the rocky ground. Pain. She felt pain, but not from the stones beneath her. This was why she was afraid to run, why the shoes were ignored day after day. Sarah couldn't stop the hot tears spilling from her eyes, mixing with sweat, stinging and distorting her vision.

Hidden from the house, surrounded by the trees, Sarah hugged herself tightly. She dropped her head to the sharp rocks beneath her and let go. She released her anger, her sadness, her broken heart spilling out of her, flooding the gravels with unseen blood amid salty tears.

Running was something from the old life. The life of happiness and laughter. The life where her mother woke her early, every day except Sunday, and they shared a cup of coffee in the kitchen. Mornings were quiet, no one else was awake. Mom talked and told stories. She listened to Sarah's exploits with friends and school and boys, without judgment. She offered advice sometimes, but more often she gave simple encouragement. Then when the coffee mug was empty and the talk done, she and Sarah grabbed their running shoes and headed out the door.

Sometimes they ran three miles, sometimes as many as ten, it didn't matter. They crisscrossed the neighborhood, speeding past houses, feet hitting the asphalt with muffled slaps. They slowed to a walk when tired and would pick up the thread of conversation that had dropped off when the run began. Annie told Sarah once that she ran to exercise her spirit and not her body. Mom believed in the spirit, in having a strong a soul and a good heart. During those runs she seemed nearly mythological in Sarah's mind. She was Athena of wisdom and war. She was Mom, comfort and love. And then she died.

Sarah never figured out to handle that. How was she supposed to continue her life without her mother? They were connected; Mom couldn't have just left her alone. Annie would have at least left some message, some sense that she was still there. If anyone could become a guiding angel or spirit it would be Sarah's mother.

Sarah held on to that thought for weeks. It made her strong and unflinching as she helped dad arrange the funeral. She gave comfort to her brothers and her father because Mom would have done it. She was gracious and smiled gently at the condolence wishers, even when she wanted to scream at them because they thought a kind "I'm sorry for your loss" would somehow alleviate the pain for her family. Sarah thought "I'm sorry" was the most useless pairing of words in the universe, but she smiled and gifted out hugs of gratitude because it was what her mother would do.

After the funeral— after the helpful neighbors stopped bringing over casseroles— Sarah pulled on her running shoes, still next to Mom's in the hall closet, and went for a run. She wanted to find some piece of her mother in that run. She knew if she got her feet moving, doing this activity that bound and tied her and her mother together, she would feel her mother's love again, her soul, her spirit. She knew it would wash over her and everything would be okay. She knew Mom had not truly deserted her; she who believed in spirits and souls would find Sarah and stay with her to guide her through life like mothers were supposed to.

But there had been no presence. Mom was not there. Sarah felt no comfort or joy. A once familiar daily rite was now alien and painful. The pain was fierce and had nothing to do with tired muscles. Sarah stopped abruptly after three miles. She breathed heavily into the hot, humid morning and stood alone on the street. She was alone, completely alone. Mom was wrong. There were no spirits, no angels. There was only pain, sadness, and anger. It flooded up through Sarah's being and settled into her bones like stone, making her heavy and silent.

Sarah did not run again. The shoes were discarded and packed away. They hadn't seen light until Sarah automatically slipped them into her suitcase when she packed for Colorado. She thought tennis shoes would be good to have on a farm, but after setting them in front of the door to her bedroom, she suddenly questioned that instinct. Had some part of her needed to run again? Had some part of her known this would happen? With the shoes staring back at her, she felt accused and afraid, but still bound to them and their purpose as if they were living things deserving of loyalty.

The morning was quiet except for Sarah's panting. Light began to suffuse the darkness with pearly gray color. Sarah's breathing had quieted, and her tears subsided. She realized suddenly this was the first time she cried since Annie's death. She'd held it all inside up until this moment.

Sarah successfully pushed up to all fours and then rose to stand. She felt somewhat weak and her hands shook a little when she scrubbed some of the wetness off her cheeks. She started a slow walk toward the gate, and then upped it to a jog. Alternating between walking and jogging, Sarah reached the gate and turned back toward the house. By the time she was back in sight of the big hodgepodge mansion, her eyes were dry and she was calm again.

### *****

The house was still relatively quiet when Sarah went up to her room. She thought she heard Uncle Matt in the kitchen, but no one else seemed to be up and about yet. Her excursion to the gate would go unnoticed, which was exactly how she wanted it to be. She didn't want any intrusion into her emotional morning, so she would keep her new habit a secret for now. That decided, she crept up the stairs in sweaty, socked feet and gently opened and closed her bedroom door.

She leaned against the back of the door for a moment, watching the early light caress the round walls in gold. The last few days Sarah spent her time helping Aunt Rachel in the morning and the afternoon. Today however, they were supposed to venture up to the attic. Looking at the bright, bare window, Sarah decided she needed curtains more than anything and hoped they found some the right length. She also thought adding furniture would render her room more homey. As it was, it looked naked and relatively empty.

Sarah dropped her running shoes in their place in front of the door and headed for the bathroom. She stripped off her sweaty attire and threw the clothes into a nearby hamper. Turning the shower knob, she stepped under the warm spray with a sigh. It felt like the water was washing away all of her emotions along with the sweat and tears. She felt empty, Sarah thought as she lathered up her hair. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling. It felt . . . clean. After getting dressed and gathering her long hair into a ponytail, she headed down to breakfast feeling strangely serene.

### *****

### Chapter 11: Finders Keepers

### *****

The top of the main staircase ended in a single door. Beyond the door was an attic that took up the entire roof cavity with the exception of the tower. It was huge and filled with furniture, clothes, and other odds and ends from several decades. Uncle Matt and Aunt Rachel accompanied the six kids on their sojourn; Adam, Jesse, and Kimmy were helping, too. They had given Tyler, Sarah, and Benji each a small cube of colored post-its to tag the items they wanted to bring to their rooms.

Currently Sarah and Kimmy were going through an old trunk filled with fabrics that unfolded to reveal curtains and table clothes. Kimmy was using a pink and green silk table cloth as a toga and modeling for Sarah.

"Where did all this stuff come from?" Sarah called out to Aunt Rachel who was hidden by a mound of stacked boxes and dressers.

"The original founders of the Sanctuary and their descendants," came Aunt Rachel's muffled answer. "The stone part of the house was built in 1795 before Colorado was even a state. The rest were later additions as the family and work force here expanded. This is pretty much all the furniture and belongings of every family that's lived here."

"Did each generation just redecorate?"

"Probably more than once," Aunt Rachel laughed. She came around the wooden blockade with an armful of curtains for Sarah's inspection. "This place has always been severely isolated. Changing up the interior can be a good way to relieve the monotony, especially during winter."

"I guess that makes sense," Sarah said. Kimmy twirled around her, displaying a new wrapping of iridescent mustard yellow curtains. "I can't imagine how some of these curtains looked hanging on the windows." She gestured to Kimmy. "That's the ugliest curtain I've ever seen."

"I'm sure you'll stumble across uglier." Aunt Rachel bent to open a cardboard box seemingly filled with brass monkey figurines. "I never said they decorated with taste."

Sarah laughed in agreement and sorted through more curtains. Benji had already found a ton of tchotchke's and furniture he just had to have. Tyler found a nice desk, but he was only looking halfheartedly, decorating wasn't his idea of a good time. Sarah, on the other hand, was having problems finding curtains long enough for her window.

Aunt Rachel brought a tape measure with her and Sarah handed her a pair of pretty pink silk drapes to measure. When she shook her head, Sarah dove back into the pile.

"We might have to get some specially made," Aunt Rachel said.

"Is that what you did for Jessie's room?"

"No, those curtains were something my mother bought back in the eighties. She redid that whole floor in black and white eighties-chic one winter."

"Well there must be more curtains for those two rooms somewhere in here," Sarah said slightly exasperated.

Kimmy was going behind her and putting the discarded curtains back into the chest when she gasped and squealed, wheeling towards Sarah and almost knocking her down. "Here!" she said thrusting some fabric into Sarah's hands. "I found them! I found your curtains!"

Sarah held up the fabric as Aunt Sarah came over with her measuring tape. Jessie came around a group of chairs and table with a purple umbrella stand on top to see what the commotion was all about. "Those are neat," she commented.

The drapes were rough silk in a light green color and had even lighter green embroidered leafy vines running up and down their length. They were long and heavy. "Like a jungle," Kimmy said, excited by her find.

The little girl was right. They did remind Sarah of a sunny jungle scene. They also looked incredibly long. "These will work," Aunt Rachel said in surprise. "And I think those sheer panels go with them." She pointed to a bundle of thin white gauze-like material. Jessie was closest, so she grabbed the curtains and handed them to her mom to measure. "Yes, these go behind the silk ones." She held them up together for Sarah's inspection.

"Perfect!" Sarah said. Kimmy squealed again and Sarah gave her a hug. "You did a good job finding my curtains, Kimmy." The little girl wiggled out of Sarah's grasp and put her hands on her hips.

"See, I can help!" Kimmy called out towards the other side of the attic where the boys were. She stuck out her tongue in their direction even though they couldn't see her. Sarah and Jessie both laughed.

"Of course you can," Aunt Sarah said more seriously. "We never doubted you."

Earlier, when Kimmy had asked to be included in the attic jaunt, Adam told her she was a pest and would get in everyone's way. Kimmy objected strongly to this and promised Aunt Rachel and Uncle Matt she wouldn't get in the way and she'd be really helpful. With her parents' approval, Kimmy had secured her place in the search over Adam's continued objections.

Kimmy dashed to the attic door, her arms full of the curtains. Sarah and Jessie decided to look for furniture while Aunt Rachel said she and Kimmy would go downstairs and put the curtains up in Sarah's room.

As Sarah and her cousin walked through the cluttered attic they saw that Benji had gone mad with his post-its. His were neon yellow and they graced the oddest assortment of lamps, desks, chairs and dressers that Sarah had ever seen. She walked past side tables carved with pineapples, a display of Samurai swords in black lacquered sheaths, a tall iron lamp with a bright green shade, and what appeared to be a suit of armor. He'd apparently put his post-its on as much as possible as if this were a game to see who could claim the most stuff.

"I am not helping him move all that," Jessie declared. Sarah nodded in agreement. She didn't think all that junk would even fit in her little brother's room.

Comparatively, Tyler claimed very few items in the attic. His blue sticky notes adorned a black lacquered dresser set that might have come from their grandmother's modern phase. He'd also marked an industrial-looking silver metal desk and several Japanese-style lamps. When Sarah and Jessie found him, he and Adam were going through a box of assorted bed spreads.

"Did you find curtains yet?" Adam asked.

"Kimmy found them actually," Sarah said with a smile. Adam groaned. "She and Aunt Rachel went ahead downstairs to hang them up."

"She'll be bragging about this for a week," Adam complained. He grabbed another cardboard box from a nearby pile and tore it open with disgust.

"You shouldn't have said anything in the first place," Jessie scolded him. He grunted and ignored her, asking Tyler about a set of bookends shaped like Arabian towers.

"Sure," Tyler gave the bookends his approval. He set them on a table and put a blue note on each of them. "There was a box on that glass table," he said pointing to the left. "It had some junk you might like."

Sarah and Jessie found the box and, upon opening, found it was full of tiny lamps. Sarah assumed they were meant to be desk lamps, being so small. She picked up a stained glass one decorated with images of roses and clover and tagged it with one of her orange post-its. Jessie found one designed to look like a beach umbrella and claimed it for her own room. Most of the lamps were rather plain and there were more than a few broken ones. At the bottom of the box, Sarah lifted out an old fashioned library lamp. It looked as if once might have graced the desk of Sherlock Holmes, but it was now spotted black with tarnish. The glass shade might have been blue or green, she couldn't tell which and the rest was brass. It needed a good cleaning, but otherwise seemed intact.

"Hey, that's mine!" Benji came up behind her. "Mine," he repeated and reached over her shoulder to slap a yellow note on it.

"Don't you think you've found enough?" Sarah asked.

"It's a big room," Benji said defiantly. "It takes a lot to fill it up. Besides, that was my last post-it." Sarah turned around and saw that his hands were now empty. "Uncle Matt went to get Grandpa and David to start hauling the bigger stuff down. He said we should finish up and help with the moving."

"Sarah hasn't found any big items yet," Jessie said. "The hunt for curtains took us a lot longer than we thought."

"It's alright," Sarah said. "I can always hunt for baubles and things later. Let's go ahead and see if we can find a desk or something for my room. I know what I'm looking for, so it shouldn't take us long." Jessie agreed and they left Benji with Tyler and Adam.

Sarah was right. It didn't take her long to find something that she liked. She discovered a white plush fainting couch for the bedroom and a pretty black vanity table. She stumbled across two narrow oak tables that had vines carved up the legs and an inlaid lion's head decorated the surface of each. Thinking to use them as a desk, she found two comfortable looking chairs upholstered in red and marked all four items as well as a few area rugs that caught her eye. By the time this was accomplished, the moving had begun in earnest.

It took nearly four hours to get everything moved and situated on the third floor. It was actually done much faster than Sarah originally thought. With everyone chipping in, the time went quickly. Benji's room was the caused a lot difficulty because of the tiny door and also because he had so much stuff. Sarah thought his room now resembled the attic itself.

Benji'd found a huge oaken desk carved with stylized leaves and fruit. He traded in the room's original chair for a big sofa and a rolling wooden desk chair. He also had them cart in several shelves in mismatching wood tones to display all of his newfound bric-a-brac. He seemed pleased with the result, though and was currently busy cleaning up model airplanes and cars which he wanted to hang from the ceiling with fishing line, an idea that Tyler had given him.

Tyler had opted to put old record sheaths on his walls in lieu of artwork. He tried hanging some from the ceiling, but hadn't liked it and took those down. Uncle Matt had found him some putty-like sticky stuff that Tyler used to press the albums on his wall without poking holes in them. Jessie had really liked this idea and she and Adam helped him until one whole wall was hidden by album covers.

Aunt Rachel, Sylvie, and Kimmy helped Sarah with her room after the furniture was set up. She positioned the white chaise in front of her bookshelf and put the two narrow tables back to back in the center of the room with the gold chairs on each side to make a desk. She and Kimmy had been left to hang up paintings and framed photos before they both got tired and took a break on the balcony.

"The garden's so pretty," Kimmy said, leaning forward in the loveseat to rest her arms on the balcony rail.

"I think so, too." Sarah agreed and mimicked Kimmy's position, laying her head on her arms. She had a wonderful view of the garden, hedge maze, and the forest beyond. "Perfect," Sarah declared. She was tired and sweaty, but happy to be sitting in the sunshine.

"It's going to rain," Kimmy told Sarah in a matter of fact voice.

Since Sarah had been at the Sanctuary she learned to trust Kimmy's instincts when it came to nature. Kimmy predicted rain and sunshine with unfailing accuracy. She had become Sarah's shadow in recent days and Sarah liked the golden haired girl's company. She never ran out of things to say and often talked to the flowers in the garden and the animals in their pens. Sarah had once come upon her having a very intent conversation with a rabbit.

"How do you know?" Sarah asked, already knowing the answer.

"Just do," came the predicted response. "It probably won't start until late in the night, though."

"Good," Sarah sighed. "I like sitting out in the sunshine."

"Me too."

A few minutes later they were both called to dinner and Sarah said goodbye to her friend as she scampered off to her own house. Kimmy was ray of sunshine herself. She was energetic and happy. She treated Sarah as if they had always been friends, taking it for granted that Sarah would play her various games.

In the preceding days they'd thrown a tea party at the round table in the hedge maze, had a breath holding contest in the pool and played several games of croquet. Sarah didn't mind. Jessie and Adam seemed wary of her and, of course, Tyler and Benji treated her as they always had. It was nice to be accepted without question even if it was by a precocious eight year old.

Dinner was a lazy affair. Everyone was tired from all of the activity and it had been Grandpa's turn to cook. He'd laid out a selection of croissants and cold ham and cheese for sandwiches at the buffet. They lounged around in the parlor, eating off paper plates. It was the first informal dinner Sarah experienced at the Sanctuary. Up until today, they ate in the dining room at the long table with the silverware and plates carefully set. It was nice, but Sarah liked the casual element of eating in the parlor as well.

After they finished with the meal and disposed of their plates, Grandpa invited her to play a game of chess with him at the table by the window. He had a polished wooden chess board with tiny wooden pieces. Grandpa had begun teaching Sarah and Benji chess two days ago when they'd been stuck inside on a rainy day. Sarah already knew the basics and was actually getting fairly good at it. She hadn't beaten Grandpa yet, but defeated Aunt Rachel yesterday when they played after dinner.

Benji declined to watch or wait for a turn to play. He said was going to finish putting things away in his room, but before he left the parlor he asked Aunt Rachel for some polish and a rag.

"I'd like some too," Sarah chimed in. "I've got a few brass items that need a good cleaning." Aunt Rachel nodded and said she'd hunt some up for them.

After Sarah's game with Grandpa was over (he'd won), Aunt Rachel stopped her on the stairs with a few rags and two tins of polish. "Don't forget to take some up to your brother," she said handing Sarah the items. "Sleep well," she added as Sarah started upstairs.

"Goodnight," Sarah said. She braced for the inevitable hug and scurried upstairs with a wave after Aunt Rachel pulled back. She had yet to become comfortable with hugging.

When she knocked on Benji's door, she got a muffled "enter" before ducking underneath the doorway. Benji had hung a giant feathered dream catcher above his headboard and model planes and cars were suspended haphazardly from his ceiling. He was sitting at his giant desk attaching fishing line to another airplane. "What do you want?" he asked uncharitably.

Sarah sighed. "I brought you the polish you asked for," she said looking around the room. Sarah studied the room thoughtfully. "It's actually pretty cool, even if it is little chaotic," she commented.

"The chaos is the cool part," Benji returned.

"I guess so," Sarah agreed before handing over one can of polish and a rag to Benji. With mumbled thanks, he got back to his models and she wished him goodnight before going to her own room.

She replaced her tennis shoes in front of her doorway before heading to the bathroom. The hot baths had become a nightly ritual for her. Sometimes they helped her sleep, sometimes they didn't, but they were always soothing. Perhaps if insomnia plagued her tonight, she could sit outside on her balcony and watch the stars. With this thought, she ran a hot a bath and hoped that tonight was one of the nights where it helped her to sleep.

### *****

Benji heard his sister's door close softly behind her when she entered her bedroom. It wasn't very late, maybe nine o'clock. He glanced at the digital clock now resting on his nightstand and confirmed the time. Sarah went to bed early and woke early so it wasn't unusual that she was already going to sleep. Benji, on the other hand, wanted to stay up a few more hours and finish his decorating. He hadn't been sleeping well anyway, plagued with unquiet dreams.

He hung up a World War II era fighter plane from a hook in his ceiling. It was cool that his Aunt Rachel was letting them do whatever they wanted to their rooms. Benji liked the eclectic mess that his room was becoming. The clutter made him feel at home. It was cozy and felt warm to him, like a secret hideout more than a regular bedroom.

His desk was old and scarred, but massive. He sat back down in the rolling chair next to it and pulled a brass lamp from a box on the floor. This was one of the things he'd wanted the polish for. It was dirty, nearly black, and the green shade was covered in dust. He wiped the dust off before prying open the polish tin and dipping the rag in. Unsure of exactly how to clean the metal base, he started rubbing arbitrarily with the polish.

A circle of brass appeared beneath his machinations, but it seemed almost too bright. As a matter of fact the whole lamp seemed brighter all of a sudden. It was hot, too. So hot, that Benji dropped it with a clatter on the desktop. It rolled to its side and Benji looked on in shock as a gold flash erupted from the lamp. He shielded his eyes from the bright light and saw spots of white when he finally lowered his arms.

Benji gaped. Standing on the other side of his desk was a boy dressed in a button down shirt and tweed trousers. He had thick horn-rimmed glasses and hair that had been gelled down into a severe central part. And he was blue. Sparkly blue. A sparkly blue teenager.

The boy cleared his throat and looked at Benji. "Do you mind telling me the year?"

### *****

### Chapter 12:Genie of the Lamp

### *****

"What the heck are you?" Benji yelped. He meant to sound louder and less scared, but his voice wasn't cooperating.

"Umm . . . you don't know? You didn't summon me on purpose?" The boy looked confused and then rubbed his hands vigorously over his face causing his glasses to go askew. "This always happens," he groaned, "now when I tell you, you'll have a lot of false expectations and there will be yelling and crying and more yelling and then it will end in bitter disappointment on both sides and I'm going to have go back into that stupid lamp!" He had gesticulated wildly throughout this speech and now his arms were thrown open in apparent frustration. He glared accusingly at Benji. "Do you have any idea how cramped it is in there?!"

"Ummm . . . no," Benji said, dumbstruck. "You live in the lamp?"

"Of course I do," was the boy's exasperated answer. "I'm a genie and all genies live in lamps."

"A genie?" Benji exclaimed. That would explain the blue sparkles he guessed, but . . . , "I thought genies lived in oil lamps, like in The Arabian Nights? That's a desk lamp and, no offense, but you sure don't give off a genie vibe." Benji crossed his arms, more curious and annoyed by the blue kid than scared anymore.

The teenager's shoulders slumped. "I know, I know. It's a semantics thing. Whatever the word "lamp" means at the time of a genie's creation," he explained despondently, "is what we get. And whoever creates us gives the genie it's form." He sighed and sat abruptly on the floor, resting his chin in his hand. "I suppose you want three wishes now, huh?"

Benji looked at the genie thoughtfully. What exactly were genies capable of? Could he wish for anything? What if he could wish for Mom . . . . Benji didn't let himself finish the thought. "Well . . . ," Benji sat down cross legged on the floor opposite the genie, but still a good three feet away. He asked, "Isn't that that the way it works?"

The genie groaned again. "For most genies, yes," he said morosely, "for me, no." He suddenly righted his glasses and looked more in control in himself. "I'm Marvin, by the way." He gave Benji a little wave. "This is going to take some time to explain, so at least you could introduce yourself," Marvin the blue genie said after Benji just stared at him without making a response.

"Benjamin Rose," Benji said. What kind of name was Marvin for a genie? "Everyone calls me Benji, though."

"Great, now we can get on with the humiliation." Marvin heaved a great sigh and gestured up to the lamp. "As you can guess, I was created more recently than most genies," he paused, "wait a minute, did you ever tell me the year or have I forgotten already?" He looked perplexed. Benji shook his head and provided the year as asked. "Geeze, I missed the turn of the millennium." A blue hand pushed black glasses up a blue nose. "Figures."

"When was the last time you were . . . out?" Benji wondered.

"The 1940s. There was a big war then," the genie responded. "I trust that got resolved?" Benji nodded. "I was being sent to Colorado, to a man named Harry, who would know what to do with me. Is that where I am now? Do you know Harry? I wasn't summoned back until just now and I've never met him." Marvin talked incredibly fast and asked questions like he was shooting bullets. Benji kept up, though.

"You're in Colorado, on a wildlife sanctuary," Benji confirmed, "but I don't know anyone named Harry."

"Oh . . . ," Marvin looked disappointed. "I suppose that makes sense considering you obviously didn't know what you were doing when you called me."

"So why can't you grant wishes if you're a genie?" Benji asked. A non-wish-granting genie didn't sound very helpful. Despite the novelty of having a blue teenager appear out of thin air, Benji felt disappointed.

Marvin sighed. "Most genies are created by Djinn," Marvin began. Benji could tell he'd said this before, like a practiced speech. "That's a powerful immortal who has cultivated the ability of magical creation. They can bring things into being, from rocks and trees to people and genies. I was not created by Djinn."

"Who created you?" Benji interrupted.

"I'm getting there," Marvin said, perturbed. He looked uncomfortable, but resumed his explanation. "I was created by a very intelligent, but selfish teenager named Horace after the stock market crash. He found a book with instructions on how to bring a genie to life and thought that by doing so, he could wish for his family's money back. They had apparently been extremely wealthy and were then facing severe poverty." Marvin stopped and looked thoughtful, like he might be remembering something.

"What does that have to do with granting wishes?" Benji prompted.

Marvin focused on Benji again. He said, "Djinn are inherently magical and have amassed lots of power by the time they get around to genie-making. Horace had no real magical ability and following the book's instructions created a genie, all right, but without having any magic himself, he couldn't imbue me with magic either."

"Okay . . . ," Benji commented, waiting for more.

"Horace envisioned himself as the genie he was trying to formulate, hence my appearance, and bound me to what he thought of as a lamp, hence the desk lamp. He's the one that gave me my name, too." Marvin gestured to the lamp still up on the desk. "I am bound to the lamp and can be summoned by rubbing it vigorously like any other genie, but I have no magic to grant wishes and have to inhabit the lamp again if directly asked." His shoulders slumped again.

"Why a lamp?"

Marvin shrugged. "Something to do with light, I think, but I'm not sure. I only know what I do because Horace gave me to a professor after he couldn't get me to grant his wishes. He, the professor I mean, found out what I've told you after extensive research on the subject." Marvin got the far-away look in his eyes again. "His name was Albert," he clarified when Benji looked blank. "He was really old, but kind. He died while I was back in the lamp one night. Then I ended up on a bank teller's desk." Marvin's blue face looked sad.

"My last master was a woman. She found out about a place she said was for things like me. I think she meant 'outcasts'," Marvin explained, "not un-magical genies. She said she was going to send me there and ordered me back in the lamp. That was the last time I was on the outside."

"So you live in the lamp?" Benji glanced at the brass desk lamp. He considered the possibility that he was dreaming and pinched himself on the elbow. Nope, he was awake. "Let me get this straight," Benji began, "you live in a desk lamp, you're a genie, and you don't have any magic to grant wishes?"

"Correct," Marvin said in a small voice.

"But you still have to do what I say?" Benji asked.

"I was hoping you wouldn't figure that part out," Marvin pushed his glasses up his nose again and glared at a space beyond Benji. "Yes, I am you're veritable slave until you command me back into the lamp."

"So," Benji thought a moment, "if I say, 'Marvin, go back into the lamp,' you'll . . . ." Benji's voice trailed off and he watched as Marvin gave a groan and then vanished in flash of bright light. Benji gaped at the empty space where Marvin used to be.

The lamp stood on the desk, just as before, with no change that Benji could see. It was still mostly dirty and there was only one spot of brass that shone through the grime where he'd polished it earlier. He got up from his sitting position and took a seat in the desk chair. He examined the lamp from all angles. He plugged it into the light socket and pulled a little chain to turn it on. The bulb seemed weak, but the lamp worked like any other. He hesitated, but then grabbed the rag and began polishing the base vigorously.

The lamp glowed again, got hot, and then there was another blinding flash of light. Marvin was standing on the opposite side of the desk with his arms crossed, glasses askew, and looking annoyed. "Happy now?" he asked. Benji nodded, openmouthed. "Great, can we move on? I really don't want to be in and out of that thing all night! You have no idea how uncomfortable it is."

"Itty, bitty living space?" Benji guessed.

"Unfortunately, yes." Marvin fixed his glasses and smoothed down his shirt. "It's like living in a matchbox."

"So not the Maharajah's palace?" Benji queried sardonically.

"It's a smoky, windowless room with cushions strewn about instead of furniture," the genie complained. "I think Horace was going for traditional," he added glumly.

"So now what?" Benji had no idea what to do with a powerless genie.

"You tell me," Marvin replied. "It's your call from here on out," he informed Benji. "I'd prefer to stay out of the lamp as much as possible, but most people tend to order me back in and leave me there since I can't give them eternal youth or mountains of gold."

"That's kind of mean," Benji said, "but understandable." Marvin made a non-committal noise. "I —." Benji dropped off as a knock sounded on the door. "Marvin, get back in the lamp!" he ordered quickly. He sat down at his desk and tried to look normal (what was normal about genies suddenly appearing out of desk lamps?). "Come in," he said, thankful that everyone in this household was polite enough to knock.

Aunt Rachel stuck her head through the door. "Were you talking to yourself?" she asked glancing around the room.

"No," Benji said quickly and became immediately aware that he sounded guilty. "Well, maybe," he amended. He tried to school his features. "Sometimes I do that," he added and hoped it sounded true.

Aunt Rachel laughed. "We all do it at one time or another," she said congenially. "You're uncle and I just wanted to tell you goodnight before we head off to bed ourselves."

"Oh, . . . ummm, yeah." Benji had irrationally expected her to demand to know what he'd been doing talking to a genie. "Goodnight," he said quickly with a little wave.

"Goodnight. Don't stay up too late," Aunt Rachel admonished. She hesitated a minute before leaving and Benji realized she'd probably been hoping for a hug. Grandpa Lee, Aunt Rachel, and Uncle Matt were much more openly affectionate than his other grandparents and uncle had ever been. They were always hugging each other or kissing cheeks and stuff. Benji wasn't as reserved about them as he'd been at first, but he didn't think he was going to be automatically hugging them anytime soon either.

When his aunt had closed the door behind her, Benji turned back to the lamp. Snatching up the polishing cloth he rubbed another spot clean in the brass. Brightness, heat, and white flash produced an unsettled looking Marvin standing behind the desk.

"What was that all about?" Marvin asked with a raised blue eyebrow.

"I'm pretty sure my grandfather, aunt, and uncle didn't know they had a lamp with a genie in it stored up in the attic," Benji replied, "and I want to keep it that way for now. If I told anyone about you, they might try to take the lamp or something." As Benji spoke he found that he really didn't want anyone else to know about Marvin. For the moment, Marvin was his secret and he liked that. It made him strangely powerful. He didn't want that spoiled by anyone taking the lamp away.

"So it goes," Marvin said. "I'm used to being someone's secret. I don't mind," he told Benji, "but I would like to know what you plan to do with me." His blue eyes looked concerned. "Or what you plan for me to do, as the case may be." He waited while Benji considered what he might want the genie to do.

Benji didn't want to order him back in the lamp. Marvin didn't seem to like that very much and he'd been in there for more than sixty years by Benji's estimate. That was a long time to be stuck in one place. "If I let you stay out can I finish cleaning the lamp without it getting hot and glowing?"

"Yes," Marvin answered. "Rubbing the lamp when I'm already out of it doesn't really affect anything."

"Don't you have to go back in there to sleep?" Benji doubted he would be able to commandeer a guest room for a glittering blue genie without someone noticing.

"I don't actually sleep much," Marvin said, "being a genie." The blue teen turned a little to indicate the fluffy beige couch behind him. "I could sleep on the sofa," he suggested.

"Okay then," Benji let out a big exhale, "how about you help me string up the rest of these planes and cars," he pointed to the box still half full of models and the roll of fishing twine next to it, "while I clean up the lamp and we'll go from there. Deal?"

Marvin was visibly relieved. "Deal." he said.

Benji took his time cleaning up the lamp. He asked Marvin as many questions as he could think of while they worked and Marvin queried Benji about the time he had missed in return. Marvin told him about both the world wars, he had actually been in Washington, DC during the last one. Marvin said that when he last entered the lamp, things hadn't looked good, but he was relieved to find out that the Nazis were defeated and he wasn't currently living in a radical society.

Benji told Marvin about computers and cell phones and color T.V. and Marvin listened enraptured. It was disconcerting seeing a genie impressed by digital cable and iPods. Apparently being a genie did not include foresight of technological advances.

Marvin was most impressed by the cars. Going through the models, he asked Benji about every single car. When was it made? How fast could it go? Benji wasn't that knowledgeable about cars, but was glad he knew enough from hanging around his Uncle Steve to answer most of Marvin's questions.

In a short time, all the models were put away and the lamp was cleaned. Benji would have to replace the bulb if he wanted to use the lamp as an actual source of light, but he figured that could wait until morning.

It was interesting talking with Marvin. Despite his nerdy, outdated appearance, Marvin was pretty funny and really smart. He had learned a lot, he told Benji, during his time with Albert the professor.

With the room finished, Benji headed for the bathroom to get ready for bed. With a sudden thought, he stuck his head back out the bathroom door to see Marvin sitting in his desk chair slowly spinning it around. "Do genies have to use the bathroom?"

"Nope, not part of the deal," Marvin said. "I don't need to eat, so I've got no need for it."

"Good to know," Benji said. At least he wouldn't have to worry about feeding a genie.

Benji changed into his sleep clothes and brushed his teeth. Marvin made himself comfortable on the couch and was reading a paperback when Benji emerged. He wished Benji goodnight, but kept reading after Benji turned the lights out. Maybe genies could see in the dark. Benji could here faint rustling sounds coming from the couch as he lay in bed looking at the ceiling.

"Marvin?" Benji asked softly.

"Yes?" the genie answered in an equally soft voice.

"If you had magic," Benji's question was hesitant, "could you bring someone back to life."

"No," Marvin answered. His reply was faint and sad. "A genie might be able to bring a body back, but not the soul."

"Like a zombie?" Benji asked.

"I guess," the genie sounded like he had no idea what a zombie was, but Benji got the picture. He shivered and didn't say anything more.

Benji didn't think he would be able to sleep with all the thoughts running around in his head, but after a few moments in darkness his eyes felt heavy. In no time at all, he was asleep.

A whining voice woke Benji up late in the night.

"Benji, Benji!" The voice was insistent. "Benjamin!"

He sat up abruptly, his eyes open wide. A startled and worried looking Marvin stood beside his bed. Benji looked around dazedly. Marvin's shining blue skin seemed to glow in the darkness and Benji was relieved to discover he was safely in his room.

"That must have been some dream," Marvin said. "You were thrashing and crying out, so I figured I'd better wake you."

"Thanks," Benji said. He sounded out of breath. He had been at the cliff again, watching Sarah and the red wolf go over the side and disappear into the void. It was the dream he'd been having almost since he'd arrived at the Sanctuary. Dreams were supposed to be the result of unexpressed thoughts and emotions. Benji understood the part about being angry that Sarah was not Mom, but he was at a loss to explain the rest of it.

"I'm fine," Benji assured the worried genie. He didn't want to talk about it. "I'll go back to sleep now."

"Okay," Marvin agreed easily enough. He went back to the sofa with another glance at Benji.

Benji sank backwards onto his pillows. There were nights when he didn't have the dream, but more nights when he did. It disturbed him on some level that he didn't understand, but in the daylight the details became fuzzy. It only left him with a vague sense of menace. Maybe he would talk to Marvin about it in the morning. He drifted back to sleep hoping that voicing his fears might undermine the terror of the dream.

### *****

### Chapter 13:Rule Breaker

### *****

The equipment shed was gray against the night sky. It seemed to shimmer in and out of view as Tyler walked around it. He shook his head to clear it, but the shed continued to fade in and out. I must be dreaming, Tyler thought. As soon as the thought entered his mind he understood the truth of it. He was asleep in his bed and this was a dream. Why was he dreaming about the shed?

He stood facing the shed for a moment, perplexed. Then he turned around. It wasn't the shed. It was the tree line. He was dreaming about the tree line at the northwest edge of the farm.

He followed the fencing around a field, keeping his gaze on the boundary of trees. They, too, looked gray in the moonlight, but they did not shimmer. They seemed solid, almost too solid, like a wall instead of a forest.

A growl issued from behind Tyler. Still aware that he was dreaming, he rounded on the source of it, unafraid. A gray wolf was running towards him, teeth bared with violent intent in his eyes. Dream or no dream, Tyler began to run, trying to find a break in the wall of trees. If he could enter the forest he would be safe. Somehow he knew that if he could find a way in, the wolf at his back would cease pursuit.

There! A gnarled black sapling hung in a vague arc over a rough path.

Tyler dared a backwards glance. The wolf was gaining, a few moments more and its claws and teeth would shred Tyler's back. Tyler pushed his legs harder and stumbled underneath the twisted branch just as he heard a jaw snap behind him.

When he looked back there was no wolf. There was no field and no farm, only a tunnel of trees. A look forward revealed the same.

Tyler was breathing heavily, but tried to remind himself that this was only a dream. It was just a dream and he would find nothing harmful through the trees. He walked on, following the path before him and tried not to look back again.

Ahead, Tyler saw light through the screen of leaves. It brightened as he got closer until he found himself in a clearing. There was a fire going in a large ring of smooth stones. Tyler was drawn forward to the fire and stared at the small gathering of flames.

In the flames a scene began to play out. A girl was dancing in the red-orange heat, a girl who looked a lot like Tyler's sister. A wolf entered the scene, dancing a waltz with the Sarah-like figure as if it was human. Suddenly the wolf bared it's glowing fangs and tore at her throat. Her mouth opened in a silent scream and the girl and wolf merged into one larger red flame. The flame twisted and danced like a hurricane before molding itself into a new form: a huge red wolf. The red wolf faced Tyler with flaming eyes and seemed to leap out of the flames. Tyler backed away instinctively, shielding his face from the heat. But there was no heat

Tyler lowered his arms and looked around. He was standing at the edge of a narrow lake. When he looked down, he found his face reflected in the water, but as he watched the reflection it changed . His skin roiled and blackened, but Tyler couldn't look away. Mirrored in the lake, where his face should be, was a wolf.

Tyler woke abruptly, his hands on his face. He'd known it was dream. He always recognized the dream for what it was, but he was, nevertheless, compelled to hurry to the mirror above his bathroom sink.

Human. A human face was reflected there. Tyler ran water over his face and briskly toweled it dry, shivering. Goosebumps ran up and down his arms. The dream gave him the creeps.

This was the third time he'd woken like this, with the same nightmare running through his head. At first, he chalked it up to Grandpa's rules and ominous warnings. Now he was not so sure.

There was something about the vision that seemed all too real. It annoyed Tyler and frustrated him. He wasn't a kid to be scared by night terrors. He was nearly grown. He was strong and capable and he didn't get scared. So thinking, he calmed his mind and schooled his expression. When he looked back at his reflection, it was serene, but his dark blue eyes still carried residual fear and worry.

His bedroom was faintly illuminated. The white drapes let in a little light and drawing them back revealed a dull early morning. It was drizzling outside. He stepped out onto his terrace, bare chested in just his pajama bottoms and shivered at the icy sting of the rain. He would never get used to the cold up here, he thought, ducking back into his bedroom. It always took him by surprise. It was June for Christ's sake! It was supposed to be warm and humid, but up here in the Rocky Mountains chill breezes still brushed chills down his spine and the rain was practically arctic. The view might be beautiful, but Tyler would trade the thin air and craggy peaks for the humidity and heat of the South any day.

He shucked a t-shirt over his head and changed into a pair of ragged jeans. A glance at his cell phone told him it was still early. He pocketed the gadget and headed down to breakfast.

He was usually the last one down and today was no exception. He found the kitchen table covered with lukewarm food and not a soul in sight, although, he could hear Jessie grumbling in the next room about dusting in the parlor.

Tyler sat and poured himself a glass of orange juice. He filled a plate with cold eggs and ham and polished it off quickly. Everyone else was probably already out and doing the myriad of chores that always seemed to occupy them. Tyler gave serious thought to returning to his room instead of doing his chores this morning. It wasn't much work really, but he didn't relish the thought of having to be out in this frigid rain. But he knew he wouldn't seek out the solace and warmth of his bedroom. Instead, he'd find Grandpa and Uncle Matt and do whatever random task they assigned him, but going back to bed was still a nice thought.

He grabbed a baseball cap from a rack near the back door and donned it to shield his eyes from the rain. As soon as he was out the door, Tyler regretted not grabbing a jacket too, but was stubborn enough to forgo a trip back inside to collect one. He loped through the dark and wet into the barn and found Uncle Matt and Benji milking cows. "Morning," he called. Tyler hadn't yet had the pleasure of milking anything and he hoped to skip it completely.

"Good morning," Uncle Matt said. Benji mumbled a response, too, but he was intent on the job at hand. "I think David and Adam need help in the stables," Uncle Matt told him, waving him off. Tyler murmured his ascent and jogged back out into the dreariness of the day. He passed Sarah and Kimmy feeding the rabbits in rain slickers. They were laughing at something Tyler could only guess at and waved to him as he went by.

Lately, ever since the dreams had started, Tyler experienced a sharp pang of worry every time he saw his sister. He felt a growing need to protect her. With each dream, it rose up more fierce than before. He didn't want anything to happen to her, but he wasn't thrilled at his newfound protective instinct either. Mostly, he just ignored it, like he did today, passing her by with barely a wave of greeting.

The barn was warm and smelled of hay and perfume thanks to Aunt Rachel's workshop. It was not unpleasant, but neither was it a comfortable smell. He could hear music coming from the workshop (Aunt Rachel liked to listen to jazz and swing while she worked), and headed in the opposite direction. He found David Landon in a narrow room beyond the horse stalls fiddling with several lengths of rubber hose.

"Ah, Tyler," David said looking up. "Just the man I wanted to see." David's English accent always startled Tyler. It seemed so out of place among the rough mountains.

"Good morning," Tyler said. "What's on the menu for today?" He wanted, like most days, to be handed his assignment and left in peace. But he also knew that, like most days, David would try to turn the day's labor into a social activity. The man could talk for days and was always explaining things in minute detail. Whether Tyler needed to hear it or not. More importantly, Tyler didn't want to hear it, but he endured anyway. He braced himself for the chitchat and was not disappointed.

"These are for irrigation," David said holding up the hose.

"It's raining," Tyler pointed out contrarily. "Why do we need irrigation hoses?"

David guffawed like Tyler had just told him a joke of singular hilarity. Tyler waited, annoyed but used to this kind of response. He liked David, but the man found absolutely everything funny.

"Well, we get our dry seasons just like anyone else," he said still chuckling a little. "These aren't for the outside fields, though. These," he said as if announcing something of vast importance, "are for the greenhouse. I found some of the old ones rotting and so we're going to replace them this morning and put fresh connecters on them."

Tyler listened as David described how the irrigation in the greenhouse worked and how they were going to improve it this morning. At the end of the unwanted lesson on irrigation systems and the operations of greenhouses, Tyler asked what exactly he needed to do.

"Well," the older man said congenially, "I sent Adam over to the equipment shed for a box of bolts and connectors. That place is always a mess," the Englishman shook his head, "and he seems to be having trouble finding it as he's not back yet. For now, why don't you go help him out and when you two get back we'll replace the tubes in the greenhouse before the morning wastes away?"

It was a question, but not a question. Another of David's habits. Tyler nodded and headed out the back of the stables. It wasn't an awful chore to be given, but honestly, Tyler would be more comfortable mopping floors. Not only would he be inside and out of the cold, but he actually knew how to mop a floor. Grandpa, David and Uncle Matt didn't seem to understand how 'farm work' made Tyler truly uncomfortable. It made him feel less-than somehow because he didn't know how to do any of it.

Tyler gritted his teeth against the rain and jogged over to the equipment shed. The rain faded the wood to a dark gray and it reminded him of his dream. He stopped just short of the shed, an idea percolating in his brain. Adam was probably deliberately procrastinating. He hated chores and his dad's repetitive and detailed conversation almost as much as Tyler did. That meant Tyler wouldn't be missed if he took a small detour. He decided to check on Adam first and walked to the door of the shed trying not to make too much noise.

Sure enough, Adam was sitting on an old tractor tire halfheartedly going through a deep tool chest. Tyler slunk past the shed door and ended up on the far side facing the tree line. Unexpectedly, his heartbeat sped up and he felt a coldness run up his spine that the frosty drizzle alone could not account for. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, he calmed his speeding heart.

Tyler followed the fence row that ran alongside the tree line, just has he'd done in his dream. He inspected the trees intently looking for something familiar with the vague hope of finding nothing. His nightmares would then be truly unfounded and perhaps they would end. The thought of a return to dreamless rest was incredibly appealing.

About fifteen yards down, the fence turned to the east and Tyler was brought up short at the corner. There, northwest of his current position was a blackened and gnarled sapling. It climbed and then dipped down low like an archway. Beyond it, Tyler could make out a faint path. It was barely more than a deer trail made more apparent because of the rain. Tyler froze, his widened gaze pinned to the trail and tree.

It was real. There was the tree. There was the path. Would there be a tunnel of trees beyond it? Would there be a blazing fire ringed by stone? Tyler was dumbfounded at the thought. He must have seen this before, he rationalized. Maybe that first day, on the tour with Jessie and Adam. Yes, that must have been it, although he couldn't recall coming this direction, but he must have. The rest was probably his own fancy created in response to Grandpa's talk of wolves and rules. Tyler tried to reason his way back to a comfortable understanding, but soon gave up.

Grandpa Lee was very insistent on keeping to the inside of the boundary. He reminded them often to stay inside the tree line as if worried they might forget. Despite most teen's typical rebelliousness, Tyler actually wasn't one to break rules without good reason. But determining the meaning behind the night terror that plagued him seemed like a pretty good reason to break a rule at the moment.

Not now, though, he told himself. He couldn't risk being missed. If this turned out to be nothing but excessive imagination, he didn't want to get in trouble for investigating. He doubted Grandpa would even believe him about the dreams, much less condone Tyler's forbidden excursion. Tonight, Tyler decided, while everyone slept. After all, in the dream the moon was up, it was night. It seemed fitting that he investigate during the nighttime as well.

Tyler hurried back to the equipment shed. Adam was still rummaging around in the same tool chest, but began to search in earnest when he heard Tyler approach. He slacked off when he saw who it was, though. After exchanging greetings, Adam described what they were looking for and, by unspoken accord, the two wasted as much time as possible finding it.

### *****

Lunch, Tyler was thankful to find, was a warm corn chowder with fresh baked bread. Adam's mom, Sylvie, made it. She'd filled up a soup tureen with the fragrant stuff and left bowls and utensils on a little glass table in the conservatory. Tyler ate with relish, glad to have the heated meal after the chilly showers of the morning. It was still wet outside, but the rain was gone and the weather was heating up with the reemergence of sunshine.

Benji was unusually fidgety and hurried through his meal before refusing Grandpa's offer of a chess match and running up to his room. Tyler shared a look with Sarah and they both shrugged at each other. Benji was probably playing with the numerous old toys he'd picked up from the attic. Tyler couldn't blame him. Benji was younger than everyone except Kimmy and far older than she. He was having a hard time of it, Tyler reflected, especially since Jessie and Adam seemed to view him as pest. Given his initial behavior, Tyler didn't blame them. He thought of Benji as nuisance more often than not himself.

Tyler also declined a game of chess. He already knew enough to play, but had found the activity boring the few times he tried it previously. He thought about staying inside and veg'ing out in front of the TV or playing a game on the Xbox, but Adam suggested a football game instead. Reluctantly, Tyler opted for muddy football with Adam, David, and Uncle Matt. Sarah and Kimmy went out to the gardens and Jessie said she'd oppose Grandpa at the chess board. So decided, they all went their separate ways.

That night, Tyler's muddy clothes topped the hamper in his bathroom. He didn't shower after the filthy game, knowing he would be venturing into the woods later in the evening. Still, he washed his face and hands before supper to be presentable. He didn't want his odd behavior to be conspicuous. He didn't want anyone to suspect his plan. Grandpa would most likely try to stop him if he confessed and Tyler was filled with a strident certainty that this was the only way to rid himself of the dreams.

Tyler dug through his bags, which were still half-packed and stacked in his closet, for something dark to wear. He came up with a dark gray pair of sweat pants and a long sleeved black T-shirt and quickly put them on. His black Nikes would serve well on this clandestine outing. He was grateful Aunt Rachel had given him a room with a terrace and outside staircase. He wouldn't have to risk creeping through the old house to get outside.

He checked his glowing cell phone in the dark. It was just after midnight. He turned his bedroom light off hours ago in case anyone was looking. Tyler knew it was overly cautious, but his plan had become steadily more imperative to him throughout the day. He couldn't have said why, but with the possibility of dreams leading to real, and heretofore unseen, places, he didn't ignore the feeling.

Tyler was careful on the stairs, the stone was slightly wet and slick from the earlier rain. He tried not to rush and hoped anyone still up and looking out a window would only see him as another shadow in the darkness. He paced to the equipment shed and from there retraced his path to the arching tree.

Tyler was both relieved and disappointed to find the tree exactly as he remembered. He didn't want the dreams to be real, that was just too weird, but he didn't want to be crazy either. Using his phone as a flashlight, he took a deep breath, ducked under the dark branch and entered the woods.

The path was still visible and took a curving route deeper into the forest. It was much longer in reality than in his dreams. He kept checking behind him to make sure he could still discern the way back. Tyler might feel compelled to go forward, but that didn't mean he wanted to end up lost in a strange forest after dark. The track climbed and rose with the landscape, but remained visible in both directions.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been walking when he spotted the light through the trees. It was eerily similar to his dream, but he shoved back any fear and pressed on. The trail curved away from the light briefly, then twisted towards it again. As he got closer to the source of brightness, Tyler was certain it was a fire due to its flickering nature. Again, dread threatened his resolve. He tamped down on it. He wasn't stupid and he wasn't weak. He was confident that whatever he found in the clearing would be something he could handle.

The clearing opened before him with startling immediacy. The tree line ended as if rudely cut off by an unseen force. Tyler's eyes were at first enticed to the fire. He could feel it's heat from where he stood, though, it was still some distance away. It was surrounded by stones, but there were other paraphernalia lying beside it, too: a small kettle and a few mugs and dented plates. Walking around to see the blaze at a different angle, Tyler saw a lidded pot hanging on a (iron?) stand like an old fashioned cooking set.

After a more meticulous study of the bare ground, Tyler realized it was a camp site. A rough shelter made of wood, stone, and covered with branches stood to the north. He could see blankets piled inside and a trio of primitive stone knives were scattered by a leather satchel near the entrance. Other stones had been deliberately placed near the hut and the fire. Tyler supposed they were for seating. Who lived here? Poachers maybe? They seemed to be gone for the moment, whoever they were.

It was now or never. Tyler advanced to the open flames of the campfire. The heat brought sweat out on his forehead. He braced himself, standing as near to the curling blaze as he dared and looked deeply into the dancing interior of the fire.

Nothing happened. Tyler gave it another minute, but no figures dancing in the flames appeared to him. He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. The dream meant nothing. It was just coincidence that he'd discovered a trail and a clearing. Obviously he had seen the black sapling before and it had imprinted itself on his subconscious.

Tyler backed away from the circle of stones. Leaving before whoever camped here returned was probably a good idea. He considered reporting the evidence of a trespasser to Grandpa, but decided he'd rather keep this adventurous folly to himself.

He made it halfway to the forest opening when he froze at the sound of a thudding footstep behind him. "What do you want?" a low, growling voice asked harshly. Tyler rounded slowly like the scary part in a horror movie just before the hapless actor on the screen becomes the victim of some terrible monster. Tyler couldn't seem to control his breathing and instinctually lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender.

The man behind Tyler looked rough. His hair was long and unkempt hanging in lank tangles around a narrow and thin face. His eyes were dark and predatory. His stance said he expected to fight. Tyler saw the thud he'd heard was not the result of a noisy approach, but the sound of a pair of dead rabbits hitting the floor of the clearing. The man before him had dropped them in order to better angle a wicked looking spear at Tyler's back. Tyler noticed with a detached curiosity that the man's left arm was bound up and resting in a sling. Would that give him a better chance of getting away? Tyler thought not, and fully faced the dark figure. He'd have to play this one by ear.

### *****

"I'm unarmed," Tyler said. He lowered his hands slowly to his sides. "I don't want anything except to leave."

The man considered Tyler as if he were an insect on a corkboard. His gaunt face was still mostly in shadow and Tyler could barely discern the movement of his jaw when he spoke. "What was your purpose here?" the snarling tone demanded.

Tyler considered lying, but quickly discarded that idea. The truth was simple enough, and if he stuck to it, he could probably leave the man in peace and keep from alerting Grandpa of his transgression as well. "I wanted to see something," Tyler said. He was pleased that his voice sounded strong and deep. "I had a dream and wanted to see if it was real," he explained further.

The hunter grunted and curled his lip at Tyler. Would the strange woodsman believe him? Or more importantly, believe him harmless and let him go? Tyler's stance relaxed a little when he saw the dark figure lower his spear. Sparing one last glare and waving Tyler off with his bound arm, he proceeded to ignore him and go about his business.

Tyler was very still, watching and waiting. He hoped this wasn't some sort of trick. The guy was probably quick if he'd been catching rabbits with only a spear as his weapon. If Tyler turned his back, it might take only seconds for that spear to pierce his backside. Another few minutes ticked by with Tyler watching the hunter warily.

The man was wearing leather and boots like an extra from a bad Robin Hood film. He stuck the dull end of his spear in the ground and picked up the rabbits where he'd dropped them. Using only his right hand, he added a knife to the bundle and proceeded to sit on a stone in front of the cooking implements Tyler had previously noted.

The hunter tied a limp rabbit body into a wooden frame before picking up the knife and setting to work. His movements were quick and precise as he began to skin it, all one handed. The sound of tearing flesh echoed in the clearing and Tyler couldn't suppress a cringe watching the easy carnage before him.

Was it safe to leave now? Should he risk it while the stranger was busy? It seemed odd that he'd taken Tyler's shoddy explanation for truth. Tyler again considered that the disinterest might be pretense and, with internal indecision, stood his ground. He kept his eyes trained to the huntsman and his gruesome work.

Still not looking at Tyler, the fellow finished cleaning his catch with practiced speed and began cutting the meat from the bones plunking it in the pot before him. Tyler heard a faint splash that indicated the container was already filled with liquid. A brief deduction led Tyler to conclude the man was making stew. When the bones were bare, the one handed figure put the lid on the pot, hung it on the iron frame and moved both into the periphery of the flames.

Now, Tyler thought. I should run now. But he did not.

The hunter gestured with his good hand to another stone near the fire without even a glance in Tyler's direction. A new thought struck Tyler: what if this guy could tell him about his dream? It took mere seconds for curiosity to crowd out apprehension and Tyler went forward to sit on the stone.

"Who are you?" he asked the stranger boldly. The man might be weird, but Tyler had questions for him and suddenly he was possessed with a strong conviction he'd get answers from the hunter.

The man looked at him calmly for the first time since he put down his spear. "I've been called Left Paw for many years." His voice still reminded Tyler vaguely of snarling dogs tinged with a distorting accent Tyler couldn't identify, but his expression was calm, not fierce, in the firelight.

The illumination gave Tyler a better estimation of the man. He was startled to note that Left Paw, probably so called due to his damaged left arm, was hardly older than Tyler himself. The impression of gaunt age was the result of shadows and scruff. Left Paw was thin, but far from gaunt. He was tall and his sleeveless leather tunic revealed well-muscled forearms. "I'm Tyler," his returned introduction caused Left Paw to look up at him again.

"What are you doing in my forest, Tyler?"

"Your forest?" Tyler exclaimed. "My Grandfather owns this land. If it's anyone's forest, it's his."

"Not so," Left Paw said quietly. "This parcel was gifted to me long ago."

"That's a lie!" Tyler ignored the faint outrage on the other man's face. "You're barely out of your teens, how long could you have been here? Are you from some sort of survivalist cult? Because you've got the crazy-creepy part down." Tyler spoke with self-assured righteousness. He couldn't believe this idiot frightened him in the first place. The guy was obviously some nut-job transient trespassing.

"I'm older than you think," Left Paw replied calmly and, setting aside the lid of the cook-pot, stirred his stew. "Tell me about this dream of yours," he said. His tone was unruffled.

Tyler was ostensibly being dismissed as a threat. It irked him, but Left Paw's composure invited confession instead of conflict and Tyler found himself wanting to respond. He questioned the compulsion briefly before adopting a more tranquil demeanor in imitation of the eccentric man before him.

"I dreamed of this place," he said softly, watching closely for Left Paw's reaction. "I found the tree and the path that led here from the farm and ended up in this clearing. I saw a vision in the fire. When I found the tree from my dream was real, I followed the path behind it and ended up here."

Left Paw stopped his stirring and returned the lid to its place. He gazed shrewdly at Tyler. His quiet façade was unnerving. Even when he moved, he seemed still. "This is real enough. So is the fire. Did your vision appear to you in the flames?"

"No," Tyler answered. "I thought it might have something to do with you, though." Tyler felt stupid saying it, but Left Paw nodded.

"I suspect that, also." The shaggy head stared balefully into the flames. "What was your vision?"

In for a penny, in for a pound, Tyler thought. "I dreamed of a wolf and a woman who looked kind of like my sister dancing. The wolf turns on her, killing her and then they merge into a larger wolf that attacks me from the fire." Tyler left out the part about the lake and his own wolfish reflection.

Left Paw snatched his eyes from the fire and studied Tyler intently. "That," he said slowly, "is very interesting." Silence descended again when Left Paw returned his attention to the fire.

"So what are you doing here? Poaching from the sanctuary?" Tyler wondered, breaking the intimidating quiet.

"No," Left Paw said with an ironic smile. "I do not poach," he asserted. "This territory was given to me after I sought asylum in the sanctuary."

"Asylum?" Why would some random guy be seeking asylum in a wildlife sanctuary?

"Safety," Left Paw clarified, though Tyler already knew what the word meant. "The world is unkind to those of us in my position," continued the hunter, "so, I allowed myself to be bound here after tiring of the violence outside these walls."

Tyler was extremely confused. This guy sure did sound crazy. "What do you mean your position? And being bound? That doesn't make a lot of sense."

"Not to you, no," Left Paw agreed. He was silent again. Tyler thought he might not explain further, but after a mute measure of time, he spoke again. "I am bound to this forest. I cannot leave it. I have only a small bit of territory to roam, but it is better than my life before." Tyler waited for more and his patience was rewarded again after a long pause.

"I was a poacher, once long ago. I killed something sacred and ate it's flesh. Its master was angry and, unbeknownst to me, very powerful. I was cursed for my crime. I have lived a long time, frozen in this state and running from those that would destroy me. Even the enlightened world fears curses."

Tyler knew his mouth gaped open, but could not seem to close it. Was this loon serious? At the very least, Tyler thought, the man believes his own fairytale. Even as his mind was condemning Left Paw to insanity, he wondered if the story was true. This guy was dressed like a renaissance faire reject, he lived like some tribal huntsman, and he spoke with a funny accent that belonged in a bad high school production of Hamlet. But, contrarily, he seemed genuine.

Tyler wondered sharply if he might be the crazy one. This could be another version of his dream, a piece of his subconscious. But he felt the heat of the fire, he could feel the uneven crags of the stone beneath him. He pinched his arm and felt pain. You weren't supposed to be able to feel pain in dreams, right?

Tyler was unbalanced and shaky, but he addressed Left Paw calmly enough. "Can you tell me about my dream?" If this was real, or even it did turn out to be another nightmare, Tyler wanted answers. If the dream became logical, it might stop. At least Tyler hoped it would stop. He and nightmares didn't keep good company.

Left Paw was checking his meal again. The flavor wafted into the night air with a fragrant spice. Apparently it was done because Left Paw produced two wooden bowls and tarnished, but hopefully clean, spoons from a large chest Tyler mistook for a rock. He filled each bowl and handed one to Tyler with a spoon. Though it smelled good, it looked murky and slimy with fat. Tyler spooned some into his mouth anyway and was grateful to find it actually tasted pretty good. Left Paw did the same before answering Tyler.

"The vision is strange, I grant you," he said between mouthfuls of stew. "I'd wonder who the wolf is and if the woman is, indeed, your sister." He chewed thoughtfully. "Fire is a consuming element. It shows no mercy and devours without consequence." Another mouthful of stew interrupted the hunter. "Suppose the large wolf is trying to consume you?"

"There is another wolf in my dream and it doesn't appear in the fire." Tyler interrupted. He told Left Paw about the gray wolf that pursued him the dream, but still left out his own wolf-headed reflection. Left Paw contemplated the fire again.

Tyler was finished with his stew before the hunter spoke again. "The gray wolf is pushing you, herding you, to a certain place. Perhaps it is forcing a conflict represented by the girl and the wolf." His look turned grave and his rough voice ominous when he said, "Regardless, it is you who are consumed at the end."

"Okay," Tyler said abruptly. "I think that's plenty of creepy for tonight." He'd had enough of this place and this weirdo. Everything was giving him the heebie-jeebies. He didn't like it. He tamped down his fear and stood handing Left Paw back his bowl and spoon. For a second, Tyler thought the hunter wouldn't take it, but he did. Left Paw was as unruffled as ever. Despite Tyler's deep suspicion that Left Paw was crazy, he envied the man's composure.

Tyler was nearing the start of the path back to the farm when Left Paw spoke from behind him. "Come again the next night," he said. "I have very little company and would enjoy the conversation. You will need to prove to yourself this is no dream, so I will look for your return."

When Tyler looked back, Left Paw had returned to eating his own stew as if he hadn't spoken at all. He was right. Tyler would have to decide if this was real or a fantasy for his own peace of mind. He determined to return as asked and hurried down the faint track back to the farm. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket to check the time (that was all it was good for anyway, as there was never great signal out here). It gave the time as ten past three in the morning. He crept back through the yard and managed to make it to his room without raising any alarms.

Tyler's clothes were dewy with the night chill and he quickly stripped them off, threw them into the hamper, and hopped into a warm shower. After drying off, he shucked on some warm flannel pants and crawled beneath his covers.

He didn't really notice the cold until Left Paw's campfire was well behind him. With his head cradled in a soft pillow, Tyler wondered if it was all made up, just his imagination at work. Part of him hoped it was fiction, and part of him hoped for fact. No not fact, Tyler corrected: truth. Left Paw seemed to speak with truth. That, Tyler rationalized, was why he was drawn to him. That was why he stayed and ate stew with a crazy man in the woods. The need for truth, absent in his life lately, provided a strong compulsion to listen to the strange woodsman.

Before sleep consumed his mind, Tyler had the foresight to hope that he wouldn't oversleep too much. He was tired, but his illicit journey through the tree line needed to remain a secret. He'd have to be careful.

Tyler felt groggy and drained when he finally woke. It was nearing noon according to his bedside clock. Light poured into the room from his windows. He rubbed his eyes and got dressed with lazy motions. On his way to the kitchen he ran into Sylvie carrying a load of laundry, she tsk-tsked at him, but didn't stop him. Looking back at her, he didn't see Grandpa step out of his study and crashed into him.

"Finally up, are you?" Grandpa wasn't asking a question and didn't pause for an answer. "I know teenage boys like to sleep in," said the old man. "I did it when I was young, but half the day is already gone. There are things that must be seen to and you should have enough frame of mind to get up at a reasonable hour." Grandpa spoke brusquely. "Aunt Rachel and Sylvie have already cleared away breakfast and will be setting out lunch in few minutes. You'll have to work with Uncle Matt in the heat of the afternoon since you missed morning chores."

Tyler gaped at Grandpa's retreating back. Thank whatever gods were up there he hadn't been caught last night. If this was how he got treated for sleeping late, he'd hate to have to endure the punishment for breaking a sacred rule. Sylvie came back through the hall, this time empty handed.

"You might as well help me with lunch as stand there looking like dead trout," she said, her accent made the words 'dead trout' sound oddly melodic. She never stopped walking, though, and disappeared into the kitchen without waiting for Tyler to respond. He followed after her and helped carry out dishes of cold pasta salad and grilled chicken to the patio table. On his second trip out, Sarah and Kimmy appeared in flurry of giggles and sat at the table.

"Tyler!" Sarah exclaimed. "I haven't seen you all morning. I thought you might have gone with Uncle Matt to Grand Junction."

"I didn't even know Uncle Matt was gone," Tyler said. If his uncle stayed gone, maybe he wouldn't actually have to work this afternoon. A chore free day sounded good.

"Did you just get up? You look like you're still tired." Tyler muttered in the affirmative. "Have you been sleeping well?" Sarah asked.

Tyler narrowed his eyes at her. It seemed an innocent enough question, but maybe she knew something. Was she having weird dreams too? "Have you?" he returned her question.

She shook her head. "No, but I've been doing better lately. I think all the work in the mornings makes it easier for me to fall asleep at night. I don't have as much trouble as I used to. What about you?"

Tyler scrutinized her face. She hadn't said anything about dreams or nightmares. It didn't look as if she was keeping something from him. Nothing seemed to be disturbing her. She was waiting patiently for an answer. Her calm expectancy reminded him a little of Left Paw. "I stayed up finishing a book," he said. It was as good an excuse as any other, since he did read a lot. He hoped it was believable.

After the table was laid out, everyone but Uncle Matt enjoyed their lunch in the sunshine. It was turning out to be the hottest day Tyler had experienced here and he enjoyed it after the yesterday's iciness. Uncle Matt was apparently delivering some of Aunt Rachel's homemade shampoos and soaps to a few stores that sold them in Grand Junction and Durango. Benji was supposed to go with him, but after helping him load up the Range Rover, declined at the last minute. He said he was still working on his room. Tyler wondered if he was building a fort in there or something.

Though Uncle Matt had yet to return, Tyler didn't get out of chores. David had Tyler help him plant sunflowers in a small section of the northwest field that afternoon. The temperature rose even higher and Tyler was wiping sweat from his eyes within minutes of beginning the work.

He couldn't help glancing westward every few minutes. The bent tree was still there like a primitive doorway, though the path was hidden from this distance. Seeing the tree made Tyler feel chilled, despite the heat.

He worked with David until the Englishman called a halt three hours later. There would be a forested square of sunflowers by summer's end, he told Tyler. David had scolded Tyler earlier, but the man had kept a smile on his face and a chuckle in his voice when he did it. It didn't make Tyler feel the least bit remorseful, but he suddenly appreciated David's congenial manner. Tyler preferred it to Grandpa's abruptness.

After David released him from duty, Tyler decided a swim was in order. Hopefully, it would cool his sweaty muscles.

Adam, Sarah, and Kimmy were playing Marco Polo in the shallow end of the pool when Tyler arrived. Jessie was sunning in a lounge chair. Tyler reflected that he was always seeing Sarah with Kimmy these days. Actually, it had been that way since they arrived. He couldn't fathom why his sister hung out with the boisterous kid. Originally, he thought she would end up bosom buddies with Jessie, since they were barely a month apart in age. Instead, it seemed Sarah's new best friend was a precocious eight year old.

Tyler announced his presence by diving into the cool water at the deep end of the pool, having only removed his shoes and socks. The water muffled the sounds of surprise from the trio at the shallow end and Tyler surfaced to find them all staring at him before they broke into laughter. He grinned and was content to float for awhile before stroking lazily to the side and pulling himself up on the lip of the pool.

Jessie turned up her sunglasses at him as he reached for a towel on the chair next to her lounger. "Needed to cool off, I see," she said before lowering the sunglasses again.

"Sure," Tyler answered. "It was hot work out in the field. I'm sure Adam's glad he missed it." She made a noncommittal hum. "Why aren't you playing Marco Polo with the rest of the Scooby Gang?" he asked studying her curiously. She was wearing a sporty yellow two piece swimsuit and had a book open beside her that she wasn't reading. She looked like an Olympian taking a break from training more than a simple teenager soaking up sun on a warm day.

"Marco Polo's really not my kind of game," she said. "We had a few races earlier, but that's only interesting for so long." She lowered the back of the lounger and turned over, snatching her book, and proceeded to read ignoring Tyler.

Tyler shrugged at her back. He wondered if she was jealous of Sarah. Sure Jessie would probably win if it were a beauty contest, probably in any sports contest, too, since she was so fit, but people were always drawn to Sarah. In Mobile, she was always voted most popular girl for the yearbook, except for last year, of course. Tyler thought she was getting some of her mojo back when he looked at her chasing a giggling Kimmy through the shallows. She was looking better, too. He felt the protective instinct rising in him and struggled to quash it.

Tyler turned his back on the swimmers. Jessie and Sarah would work it out eventually. Tyler just hoped this wasn't all about Adam. He'd hate to be in a house with two teenage girls fighting over a boy.

Tyler went up to his room and changed clothes. He turned on his iPod and lay on his bed staring at the ceiling with music blasting through his earbuds. Daylight brought on more rational thoughts. He was eighty percent certain that he dreamed up last night's episode beside the fire. Maybe the tree was real, maybe the path was real, but there was no way Left Paw was real.

Tyler could prove it to himself. He could go out again tonight, see for certain if it was real or not. Honestly, though, he didn't want to. The man in the woods, dream or not, left Tyler feeling acutely uncomfortable. He didn't want to meet up with him again even if he could somehow explain away the nightmares.

Looking at Sarah today, Tyler thought he might be able understand the dreams without any help. His family had been through a lot in the past year, especially Sarah. Tyler was aware she kept her emotions bottled up and he wasn't oblivious to all the responsibilities she took on after Mom died. A month ago, she looked crushed and broken. Today, she laughed. Tyler felt guilty about that. Not the laughter, the other.

For months on end, he saw her struggling. And Benji, too. He didn't do anything to help either of them, though. Tyler wanted to forget the bad stuff, focus on what made him feel good. It wasn't a very brotherly thing to do. Maybe that was why, at the end of his dream when he looked at his reflection, he saw a wolf's face. Maybe the dream was a retelling of his own guilt. If he wanted it to go away, Tyler thought, he'd have to make it up to his siblings.

That night, Tyler resolved not to return to the forest. His dreams were manifestations of his conscience, that was all. If he started looking after his siblings more and stopped hiding out from the realty of their new lives, Tyler figured the nightmares would stop eventually. They had to.

### *****

### Chapter 14: Night Lights

### *****

Tears made sweaty tracks down Sarah's cheeks. She was running, almost to the gate now, and the crying had begun. Sarah made it a little farther each day before breaking down into sobs. It felt like the emotion was ripped out of her, but it only happened when she ran. The exertion tore open some part of her heart that was otherwise sealed up. For good or ill, Sarah became addicted to the feeling of release that it provided.

She never cried during the day, not even when she couldn't sleep. It didn't matter how worried, disheartened or scared she was. It didn't matter how many times in the day she thought of her mother or watched in heartbroken silence when Kimmy's mom lifted her up for a kiss. Aunt Rachel and Jessie sat in the den, talking about art and eating strawberries and Sarah felt like she would burst with jealous sorrow. But she did not. She was calm. Until she ran.

Once her feet began crushing gravel beneath her, she was free. When the wind of her own speed brushed her cheeks, she cried. Slow silent tears at first, but soon her pounding heart would signal a break in her soul and the dam would crumble. Collapsed and sobbing, she stayed in the lane, hidden from sight, the forest surrounding her like a warm blanket, until she stopped, finally empty of emotion. Then she would run the rest of the way to gate and back to the house and return to her room and the day would begin again.

This morning, she reached the gate and turned around before the sobbing burst from her throat. Air could scarcely get into her lungs and she sat suddenly, sharp rocks painful on her backside. Sarah pulled her knees up, hugging them and bawled without restraint. She leaned into the ground, curled in a fetal position, a ball of wretched unhappiness.

That was how Adam found her. He almost ran right into her before he managed to skid to stop. Sarah looked up from her crouch with swollen eyes wide and crab-walked backwards, startled at the intrusion. For a moment, Sarah had no idea who he was or why he suddenly appeared in front of her.

Adam was dressed for exercise. His hair was slicked back with perspiration and his dark eyes were regarding her with a shocked expression. He'd obviously been going for a run, just as it was obvious that Sarah had been running.

Sarah's sweaty blond hair hung in halo around her face having escaped the confines of her ponytail. Her own eyes mirrored Adam's shock. The two runners stared at each other in the darkness of the early morning, each unmoving.

With concern, Adam asked if Sarah was okay. She nodded mutely in embarrassment and shame quickly consumed her. She stopped crying for now and tried to will herself to be calm. She needed her normal composed self. She did not want Adam to see her like this, but it was too late. The thought brought a sob to the surface, mortifying Sarah. Reacting out of instinct more than anything else, she scrambled to her feet and ran back to the house leaving Adam standing in lane.

Sarah didn't bother with quiet. She raced up the stairs into her room, leaving echoes of sound in her wake. Slamming the bedroom door behind her she slid down to the floor in a heap of discordant thought. Her breathing was labored, but she was relieved to find her eyes had stopped acting like faucets. A few minutes of gulping in much needed oxygen and she began to think more clearly.

Adam had seen her crying. She vaguely recalled Adam telling her he was an athlete and he occasionally jogged the lane. But she never expected this. She hadn't anticipated his run colliding with hers. She wasn't prepared to let her secret out. She needed the running. She needed the release, but she couldn't let anyone see. She just couldn't.

What if he told Grandpa or Aunt Rachel and Uncle Matt? What if he sat down at breakfast and related the story of nearly crashing into her miserable, collapsed form? How could she possibly explain her behavior to anyone? She needed her cathartic runs. She wasn't sure she could survive the day without them anymore. What was she going to do?

Sarah hung her head between her knees, taking deep slow breaths and staring at the veins in the hardwood floor. It was okay. She was being irrational. Adam probably thought she just tripped and fell or something. Sure, running away from him like that was odd, but she was used to being odd by now. Her own brothers thought she was weird. Adam probably wouldn't say anything.

God! She hoped he didn't say anything!

Pushing her panic back into the depths of her mind, Sarah dragged herself to her feet and into the bathroom. She kicked her shoes off and left her clothes scattered on the tile before stepping under a warm shower spray. Her body felt heavy and slow. Sarah was used to the lighter, clean feeling her runs produced. Now, it felt as if stones dragged at her feet, like Jacob Marley dragging his chains.

Knots of apprehension tightened her stomach when she sat down at the breakfast table an hour later. Aunt Rachel and Grandpa were already eating. Uncle Matt fixed blueberry pancakes this morning. Tyler and Benji were there, shoveling the syrup covered treats into their mouths and complementing Uncle Matt's heretofore unknown culinary skills.

Adam was not there, and Sarah realized abruptly that, of course he wouldn't be at breakfast. Adam ate with his own family for breakfast and dinner. She probably wouldn't see him until lunch. Her tension waned in relief, but her hands still shook a little when she poured milk into a glass. She forced herself to be calm and filled a plate with a stack of pancakes, drenching them with syrup.

"Morning everyone," Jessie said sitting down across from Sarah. She kissed Aunt Rachel affectionately and teased her father about his cooking. Uncle Matt told her to hush and eat, but he said it with a grin. Jessie laughed, heaping a plate with pancakes. Sarah watched her with mute wariness. If Adam told anybody about this morning, it would probably be Jessie. They were best friends. But Jessie ignored Sarah as usual and said nothing. Sarah embraced the reprieve, acting as nonchalant as she could manage.

Sarah shoveled down two stacks of pancakes before following Aunt Rachel out to the workshop. The pancakes were delicious, and, though she felt painfully full, the food soothed Sarah. She was scared. Even if Adam didn't disclose their morning meeting, Sarah knew she would have to stop running. It wasn't safe anymore. It wasn't private. She had no idea how she was going to cope.

Sleep was elusive as ever that night. Sarah glanced at her cell phone: two-thirty in the morning. She'd been awake and miserable since going to her room at nine. Sick with worry, the familiar, but unwelcome, feelings of sadness building up within her, she immediately sought solace in a hot bath. But she couldn't relax. Topping off her normal assortment of negative emotion was a stack of guilt, anger, and humiliation. Sarah felt like she could sink to the bottom of the tub and drown.

Her day was awful. Sarah was preoccupied with her own thoughts, absorbed in them, obsessing over what she would do now without running. She spilled lye on her hand, which left an angry red mark, and mixed a horrible combination of soap scents because she wasn't paying any attention. After half an hour of mishaps, Aunt Rachel sent her with Kimmy to feed the livestock since she was being more hindrance than help.

Kimmy! Sarah moaned in the darkness of her room. She felt so awful about Kimmy!

The little girl had greeted Sarah with customary smiles and giggles. She tried to cajole Sarah into a conversation with one of the horses, but Sarah was so upset. She abused her young friend with the backlash of her own hateful emotions. Sarah had been so mean to her. She didn't yell at her, but what she did was worse than yelling.

"Animals don't talk to you," Sarah told Kimmy abruptly. Irrationally, Sarah needed to give the child a reality check. "They don't talk you and you can't talk to them. You're not Dr. Doolittle. You're a child with an overactive imagination and I'm through with pretending."

"They do so talk," Kimmy said stubbornly. Her cherubic face was scrunched in confusion when she looked up at Sarah. "They talk just like the flowers and the rain. You just don't listen right!"

"No, Kimmy," Sarah said softly. Her voice sounded flat and hollow and mean echoing in the stables, but she couldn't stop herself. The words flowed, unrelenting. "They're dumb beasts and dead plants. They can't speak, you can't hear them, and I don't want to hear you right now."

"I don't want to hear you, either!" Kimmy covered her ears and ran out the stables quick as a fox with Sarah staring blankly after her.

Adam came in just as Kimmy disappeared around the corner. "What's going on?" he asked pointing in the direction his sister had run.

Sarah shrugged. She didn't trust herself to speak to Adam. She said horrible things to Kimmy for no reason at all and she knew that if she opened her mouth at that moment she would do the same to Adam. She couldn't do that. Adam might confront her about this morning. She quickly put away the feed bucket and left the stables before he could ask her anything else.

Sarah sought solace in her room, going up the outside staircase to avoid running into anyone else. Missing lunch seemed like a good idea, so Sarah occupied herself by tracing the outline of the lion's head inlay at her desk and thinking about nothing. She didn't want to think. She didn't want to talk. She wanted to be left alone.

Aunt Rachel came up sometime after noon to interrupt her voided state. She looked concerned and asked Sarah if anything was wrong.

"No, nothing," Sarah answered, her face dull and blank. "I'm fine."

It was evident that Aunt Rachel didn't believe her, but she didn't press the issue. Jessie was sent to bring her down for dinner a few hours later.

"You know, Kimmy's been crying all day," Jessie told her. She looked smug about something, but Sarah barely noticed and didn't respond. "Adam knows you did something to her." The accusation sprang hatefully from her lips.

Sarah just looked at her. She was standing outside the threshold of Sarah's room. Sarah had opened the door when Jessie knocked, but did not invite her in. "What do you want?" Sarah's question was dispassionate, which seemed to make Jessie angry.

"My mother told me to come get you for dinner. She thinks you're sick," Jessie said. It was clear that wasn't what Jessie thought.

Sarah didn't respond. Jessie glared at her, then turned on her heel and disappeared down the hall. Sarah followed her down to dinner, hungry after missing lunch.

She spoke little, but ate much, piling her plate with starchy potatoes and buttered rolls. A detached part of her noted the worried look on Grandpa's face. Uncle Matt and Aunt Rachel were obviously concerned, asking her repeatedly if she was okay. Even Tyler glanced at her with an anxious frown once or twice.

Once back in her room, Sarah went straight to the haven of her bathroom. She combined jasmine and lavender, hoping it would sooth and relax her, but it did not. She couldn't lose control, she couldn't. She had to . . . . Had to what?

Sarah wasn't the one in charge anymore. She wasn't the one holding everything together. But somehow that meant she couldn't hold herself together anymore, either.

She got out of the tub in frustration. Why couldn't she handle herself? She was supposed to be the strong one, the mature one, the responsible one. She couldn't lose that when it was so important to keep what was left of her family. She tried to come to terms with herself, with her feelings, with her compulsive habits, but it was no use. She only gave herself a headache.

Many hours later, nearly three o'clock now, all she managed to do was stare at the ceiling going over and over and over everything, thoughts swirling like a typhoon in her head, while her body remained deathly still.

It was so early she briefly considered trying to run. Maybe no one would be up; no one would bump into her at this time of the morning. She discarded the idea almost as quickly as she'd come up with it. It was too risky. It was too risky in the first place, she just didn't realize it until now.

More than anything, Sarah wanted to sneak downstairs to the kitchen. There were probably leftovers from dinner sitting in the fridge. Maybe she could hunt up some cookies or have a bowl of sugary cereal. It didn't matter. She wanted to eat, as if that would make everything better. However, Sarah was well aware that gorging on food wasn't going to solve anything. It would just make her feel fat and guilty. So what should she do?

Sarah pushed her covers away with vehemence and went to the huge window overlooking the garden. She needed to get lost, Sarah thought. She needed to go where no one would find her. She'd needed a place to cry, a place to loose all these unwanted emotions. Then she'd have peace, she could rest.

What better place to get lost in than a maze? Below her, the hedge maze was shadowed in moonlight. Sarah was amazed how clear the thin mountain air made everything seem. Like she was suddenly given glasses that she didn't know she needed. The dark arch of the closest maze entrance was inviting. It was a place to hide, a place to get lost.

Sarah went out onto her balcony, barefoot, in white shorts and a tank-top. She would be easy to spot in the dark, but once in the maze, she could disappear, so she didn't bother changing. The day had been warm and dry. Heat still clung to the stones beneath her feet. She passed Jessie's balcony without stopping and continued down to the garden path. In the blink of an eye, she was in front of the arch looking into the leafy corridors of the maze.

She went in unhesitatingly. Her feet felt gritty with dirt, but she hardly noticed. Sarah passed the sleeping fountain and turned a few more corners. She had a vague idea of finding one of the alcoves that housed a statue and hiding there, perhaps somewhere in the center of the maze. Around another corner, Sarah saw the exiting archway looming in front of her. The maze was small, but had she really completed it in so short a time? She walked forward feeling bitter disappointment and resigned to returning to her bedroom.

It took her a few minutes to realize she wasn't walking back into the garden. She was going somewhere else. The path she was on was still made up of rough stone, but it led through a grove of dark trees. Sarah saw shimmering light in the distance and without much deliberation continued forward to investigate.

The light was further off than she expected and Sarah was unsure of how long she'd been outside. There was a gentle curve in the path before it petered out into widely spaced stepping stones that traced the edge of a thin, narrow lake. The smooth stones led to a large Roman pavilion at the edge of the water. Shimmering moonlight reflected in gentle lapping waves. This was what she needed. This was a place to hide.

She picked up her pace and sat down on a long curving stone bench with a high back under the pavilion roof. Across the lake, Sarah saw a few lights through the trees. Houses, maybe? Had she come far enough to be able to see the town? She put her curiosity aside and inhaled slow and deep. In the darkness, she expelled a pained breath.

She wished Mom weren't dead and let out a sob. The distant illumination blurred before her eyes. She wished she hadn't made Kimmy cry. She wished she were home in Mobile. She wished and wished and wished, but no wish came true.

Releasing the misery, she let her head drop into her arms and cried, washing herself out with tears, scrubbing her soul clean. The hard sobs eventually gave way to softer sniffles and her shoulders relaxed a little. She had no idea of the time and hadn't thought to bring her cell phone with her. Sarah looked up to check the position of the moon, checking time the old fashioned way. It was low in the sky, half hidden by the trees and mountains. That meant sunrise wasn't far off.

"Why are you crying?"

Sarah didn't have the energy to be startled. She slowly faced the soft spoken voice. Not again, she thought faintly. She was tired. She had no energy to muster up any embarrassment or fear of the tall figure leaning against the pavilion pillar.

"Because I have to," the words were a whisper of sound. Sarah hadn't meant to say them aloud.

The figure pushed off the pillar coming towards her. It was a boy. A very tall boy of indeterminate age. He could have been fifteen or twenty five, Sarah noted sluggishly. He was thin, lanky and had very pale yellow hair that hung in short tangles around his face. His eyes were large, dark and ill-framed with small round spectacles. "Have you so many things to cry about?" he asked. His voice was still soft, like a breeze.

Sarah was too tired to wonder at his identity. She felt exhausted and might have curled up and slept on the stone bench if the stranger hadn't spoken. "Yes," she told him, "I have." With that, she did close her eyes and lean back on the bench.

She might have dozed, Sarah wasn't sure. Dawnlight pierced her eyelids and she opened them to see the narrow lake, silver and glistening in the gray morning. The sound of water gently lapping at the shore was soothing and Sarah almost went back to her drowsy slumber, but she was slightly perplexed to see group of houses, on the far side of the lake.

Where was she? Panic hit her, making her chest tight and her breathing fast. She needed to be back at the house. She should have been in her room.

Sarah had vague memories of walking among the hedges and a lake lit with moonlight. She recalled a pale boy speaking to her, but thought that must have been a dream. She might still be dreaming. Tired and unsure, Sarah got up from the bench and followed the stone path back to the hedge maze.

The morning was hazy with dewy fog. The garden looked mirage-like blurred with the moisture. Sarah found her way back to the house through the maze and carefully climbed the slick stairwell to her room. She left the balcony door open and crawled into bed, leaving smears of dirt where her bare feet slid against her white sheets. She was asleep within seconds.

A pressure on her forehead caused Sarah to swim up to consciousness. Bright sunshine streamed through her window. Aunt Rachel was feeling Sarah's forehead with her wrist and looking down at her concernedly. "How do you feel?" she asked when Sarah yawned herself the rest of the way awake.

"Fine," Sarah said. "What time is it?" she asked suddenly aware of the height of the sun. She leaned up abruptly on her elbows, panicked. Sarah grabbed for her cell phone on the dresser, but her aunt stopped her.

"Be still," Aunt Rachel said. "You don't have a fever, but you look pale and you've got dark circles under your eyes," she listed the symptoms with a frown. "I'm worried you may be coming down with something."

"I'm just sleepy," Sarah said. Aunt Rachel looked unconvinced. "I don't sleep well," Sarah admitted.

"Insomnia?" Aunt Rachel asked. When Sarah nodded her aunt's concern gentled into compassion. "How long has this been going on?" she asked gently.

Sarah shrugged, sitting up more fully. "For about a year, I guess."

Aunt Rachel nodded. "You're father told us about your eating problems," she said, much to Sarah's chagrin. She ducked her head in shame.

"He did?" Sarah softly inquired.

Her aunt nodded. "I noticed you ate quite a bit yesterday," Aunt Rachel pointed out. "Are you binging again?"

Sarah shook her head fiercely. "I felt bad yesterday, but I haven't been eating at night, I swear. I was just. . . ." Sarah's voice trailed off. Aunt Rachel looked at her intently.

"Hungry?" Aunt Rachel asked. "Or sad?"

"Both," Sarah answered.

"I was worried about that originally," explained Aunt Rachel, "after your father told me about it. But you've lost weight in the time you've been here and an eating disorder is pretty hard to hide in a house full of people. I thought you were doing okay until yesterday, but you're not are you?"

"It's no big deal," Sarah mumbled, embarrassed.

"Yes it is," her aunt corrected. "Binging is an eating disorder. It can be dangerous and is definitely bad for your health. I'm worried about the insomnia, too," she added. "Prolonged sleeplessness can lead to all kinds of problems, it's just as hazardous." Aunt Rachel's expression was warped into intense concern. "You're a growing teenager," she said, "you need sleep and you need to eat right." Sarah looked away and shrugged.

"How about you stay in bed today?" she suggested. "I'll have Uncle Matt bring up a grilled cheese sandwich and some soup."

"No," Sarah interrupted quickly. "I'm fine. I can do my chores like always. It's not that big of a deal. I'm fine," she repeated.

Aunt Rachel shook her head. "You aren't fine, Sarah. You're sick," the older woman sounded resolute. "Let us take care of you for a little while," she requested. "That's what we're here for."

Sarah didn't want them to, though. She shouldn't have said anything at all. She looked dejectedly at the sunny day outside her window. "I don't think that's necessary," Sarah told her aunt.

"Well, I do." Aunt Rachel did not relent. Instead she changed tactics.

"Your grandpa was worried when you didn't come down for breakfast," she informed Sarah. "I imagine he'll come up to play a few games of chess with you. I can send Kimmy up here later, too, but I really think you should rest and relax for the rest of the day." Aunt Rachel spoke as if it was already decided.

"I'm fine," Sarah insisted. "Really, Aunt Rachel, it's okay."

Aunt Rachel was persistent, though, and eventually Sarah conceded defeat and lay back against her pillows. She also made Sarah promise that if she was still having sleeping trouble or binging at the end of next week, Sarah would go with her to the doctor in town and see what could be done. Sarah reluctantly agreed and was briefly left alone while Aunt Rachel went to find Grandpa.

Sarah hazily recalled her dream about the maze and the lake. It had been so real. The details were clear. She remembered the smell, the sound of the water, and the strange boy with the pale hair. She couldn't remember how she got back to her room or getting into bed, but dreams were like that. Some things were so clear while others were faded.

Sarah decided to at least get into the bathroom and brush her teeth before Aunt Rachel returned. She drew back her thin quilt and slid her feet off the mattress and then froze in astonishment. There, on the pristine white of her sheets, were two dark smudges of dirt and gravel. She looked down at her feet, still covered in filth, and then at the window again. The door to the balcony was open. It wasn't a dream?

### *****

### Chapter 15: Sneaks and Thieves

### *****

The floor creaked beneath the weight of Benji's foot. He stopped, holding his breath. It sounded so loud, like a groaning giant, but that was probably just his imagination. He waited, but no one came to investigate. With a quiet sigh, Benji slowly opened the dark oaken door in front of him, twisting the brass knob all the way so there would be no click. He closed the door softly behind himself and turned to examine Grandpa's study.

Benji knew he wasn't supposed to be here. Grandpa had specifically forbidden anyone to enter this room. But after finding Marvin, Benji began to wonder if Grandpa might be hiding something. Was he really in here for hours a day filling in ledgers?

Benji also noticed his grandfather disappeared occasionally, taking one of the horses from the stables. Sometimes he was gone all day, but he usually went alone. What was he doing out in the woods by himself? Was he really just mending fences and counting rare birds?

Marvin told Benji about a man named Harry. This Harry person was supposed to know what to do with "magical misfits", as Marvin put it. But since Marvin had never actually met Harry or seen a picture or heard a last name, he had no idea where to find him or where to start looking. Benji thought Harry might be connected to the wildlife sanctuary somehow, so he began cajoling Uncle Matt to let him spend time on the computer in the library. It was the only computer in the house with an internet connection.

Benji found lots of men named Harry in Colorado's past, but his big break didn't come from the computer at all. A few days after Marvin's surprising entrance into his life, Benji was playing a game of chess with Sarah in the parlor. He was trying to spend at least part of the day downstairs, so that his relatives wouldn't notice how much time he was actually spending holed up in his room. He didn't want them suspicious.

Sarah was winning the match and Benji, already bored and frustrated, was wishing he was back in his room hanging out with Marvin. Marvin read books while Benji was gone and always had a million questions upon his return. The genie was certainly better company than anyone else. Benji gazed dully across the room. His wandering gaze landed on a portrait of an old man with a long mustache dressed in heavy black clothes. He was standing next to a plain looking woman also in heavy old fashioned clothes. The large photograph was sepia with age.

"Benji!" Sarah said his name sharply. "It's your move."

"What?" Benji growled. He'd been absorbed in the picture, not paying attention to the game. He gave an exasperated sigh after Sarah gestured to the game board and moved a white knight without much enthusiasm.

"Check mate," Sarah declared after her next move. Good for her, he thought meanly.

Benji looked down at the board. Sure enough, his king was left pinned and he had no real moves left. "I was distracted by that photo on the wall," Benji said defensively. "I think the creepy guy in black jinxed my moves."

Sarah laughed, not noticing her little brother's ill mood, and began to reset the chess pieces. Aunt Rachel rebuked him from her chair where she sat reading the newspaper (the newspaper always got to the sanctuary a day late and Benji wondered why they bothered to read it all, the news was on TV anyway). "Those are your great-grandparents," she told him as if that mattered. "Back then, it wasn't common to smile much in photos. Plus you only got one shot at it or you had to pay extra."

Benji hummed a vague response, but Sarah seemed interested. "Really?" she asked leaving the chess pieces scattered to examine the photo. "I wondered who they were, but never thought to ask. The man does look a bit like Grandpa, I guess."

Aunt Rachel stood next to Sarah while Benji dawdled with the scattered pieces. He was anxious to make an exit, but didn't want to leave too abruptly. Questions would not be welcome. "I always thought he looked more like his mother, your Great-Great-Grandmother Margaret, than his father. He told me he had an uncle, his father's brother, that he resembled most, but I don't think I've ever seen a picture of him." Aunt Rachel was still yammering on about family history. "The brother died though. In one of the world wars I think."

"That's sad," Sarah said. "Was Grandpa's dad close to his brother?"

"You'd have to ask Grandpa about that, honey," Aunt Rachel said. "Harrison, your great-grandfather, was dead and gone long before I was born. I never knew my grandparents. They both died very young compared to today's standards of living."

Their voices trailed off and Benji sat frozen, a white queen tottering on the edge of its base because he'd been about to place it next to the king. Harrison. Why hadn't Benji thought of it before? Marvin was old, much older than he appeared, and when he was sent here Harrison Rose, not Leland Rose, would have been running the sanctuary and the farm. What if 'Harry' was really Harrison?

Grandpa's name was shortened to Lee. Lots of names got shortened; even Benji's full name was Benjamin. But if Great-Grandfather Harrison was Marvin's 'Harry,' did that mean that he knew about Marvin? Or genies? Or maybe even something else?

Benji's thoughts were scattered. He left the chess pieces in chaos, letting the queen fall and roll off to the floor. He was too excited. He had to tell Marvin and he raced up to his room without a backward glance.

Once back in his room, he shut the door quickly and found Marvin sitting on the middle of his bed reading a book with flying saucers on its cover. "Marvin!" he exclaimed. His coup was too great to worry about keeping his voice down. "I think I found him! I think I know who Harry is!" Benji's voice was harshly triumphant. "Or was anyway," he amended.

Marvin looked up with sudden anticipation and dropped the book he was holding. "So," he made an impatient gesture with his hand, "who is he? And more importantly," Marvin added, "Where is he and can he help me?"

Benji sat in his desk chair and swiveled it to face Marvin. Bracing his hands on his knees, he said, "I think he was my great-grandfather." As he'd hoped, he managed to dumbfound Marvin with his news.

The genie insisted that Benji explain, and Benji related the conversation about the photograph and his suspicion that Harry was the nickname of his great-grandfather, Harrison. Marvin agreed that this made sense, more sense than any other 'Harry' Benji had come up with so far.

"Does that mean your grandfather already knew I was stuck in the attic?" Marvin frowned. He was obviously disappointed to find that Harrison was dead, but Benji ignored that.

"I don't know," Benji answered. "Maybe not. Aunt Rachel said Harrison died pretty young, so maybe he died before he could tell anyone about you and they just assumed you were a normal desk lamp."

"I am NOT the lamp," Marvin corrected loudly. "I am the genie in the lamp. How many times to I have to tell you?" he said irritably. Benji ignored the genie's foul tempered response.

"Maybe Harrison knew all about mythical creatures and magic and kept it a secret from everyone," Benji suggested.

"So that means my chance at getting any sort of help for my," Marvin cringed, "affliction," he muttered the word, "died years ago and I'm still stuck."

Benji considered his shiny friend. Marvin turned out to be a pretty cool friend. He may look like a smarmy nerd, but he was actually kind of funny and knew a lot thanks to his previous travels. Benji didn't want Marvin to be discouraged, so he confided his other hunch to the genie. "Maybe not," he said. The dejected blue face looked slightly less glum.

"What if my Grandpa knows about supernatural stuff too?" Benji offered. "I mean, I know that Grandpa inherited this place from his father, so he could have inherited knowledge, as well. Like in journals or something." Benji told Marvin about the private study he was ordered not to enter.

"If I was going to hide something," Marvin said thoughtfully, "I'd certainly keep people away from it, but I'd also make it seem really uninteresting, so no one would be curious anyway."

"Nobody would want to go through a bunch tax papers or animal accounts," Benji agreed. Still, Benji was uncertain about sneaking into the study.

"I don't want to get caught, especially if there's really nothing to find in there," he said. It wasn't that he was scared. He just didn't want anyone finding out about Marvin.

Marvin nodded. "You'll have to wait until you're sure the coast is clear and be really quick about it." His forehead scrunched in blue wrinkles and he pushed his glasses up on his nose, weighing the problem in his mind. "The best way," he said, "would be to grab only one or two things of interest, perhaps the first items you come across, and get out of the study as fast as possible."

Benji warmed up to the idea quickly. "Fast," he agreed, "In, out and gone." Benji had a sudden thought. "But what if Grandpa notices something missing?"

"Take something small," Marvin suggested, "and sneak back into the study to replace it after a few days."

"That way," Benji caught on, "even if it is discovered missing, once it's back in the study Grandpa will only think he misplaced it!"

"With none the wiser," Marvin finished.

That was when Benji started watching Grandpa more closely. He began to think that not only did his grandfather know about magical beings, but he was somehow involved with them.

Benji wasn't been sure what he would find in the study. However, now that he saw the room again, he thought it might be easier. The place was a mess.

Papers were strewn about the room, drawers were opened, files were stacked in the leather chairs, and books were left open on the desk. However, Benji had plenty of time to find something, and was resentfully grateful that Sarah provided the opportunity.

Sarah got sick yesterday and was staying in bed all day today. Grandpa went up to her room five minutes ago with the wooden chess set and Benji took his chance. He listened at Sarah's door until he was sure they were beginning a game (a chess match, he had learned, was usually a long, drawn out sort of thing). With the assurance that his grandfather was busy, Benji told Marvin he was going for it. The genie agreed this was a good opportunity. After creeping around to make sure everyone else was occupied too, Benji made his way to the study.

He probably had at least a half an hour before Grandpa and Sarah finished their game, but maybe only minutes before someone else came by and discovered him. He ignored the piles on the desk. Grandpa was sure to notice if any of that was missing, he thought, instead Benji went for the large drawers in an unopened filing cabinet. Jackpot!

The drawer was filled with maps, mostly hand drawn and old in nature. Benji hurriedly parsed the selection and grabbed one that said "Black Rock Sanctuary" in the corner. He shoved the map underneath his shirt and moved to the bookshelves.

He'd need something small, something that would give him answers, but wouldn't be missed. He found it on the bottom shelf. It was a thin volume, simply titled A Handbook, but the author was listed as The Wizard Halcyon of Asgaran. Seemed suspicious enough to Benji, so he took it and slipped the tiny book in his back pocket. It was just small enough to fit.

As he turned to leave, he realized he was sweating anxiously. Benji opened the door with as much care as before and closed it just as quietly. No one in the hall, he confirmed. He actually had no idea how long he was in the study.

Fear and anticipation made him want to hurry back up to his room, but he made himself walk normally. If someone caught him now, they probably wouldn't notice his purloined items. Unless, of course, he gave them reason to look by acting guilty.

Safe again in his room, Benji let out a huge breath and leaned against the back of his door. Marvin was pacing the length of room and now addressed him impatiently. "Well?" he queried.

"I think I might have found something," Benji said. He presented Marvin with the map and the book from his pocket. Marvin took the map and unfolded it.

"I think you may have, my friend," he said and gave a low hum. "This might be more than we both bargained for."

Benji could only see the back of the map, so Marvin turned it around. It was map of the farm, all right. But the farm was actually one tiny section circled on the right side of the diagram. East, Benji mentally corrected himself with a glance at the compass in the lower left corner. The rest of the map was filled with odd lines surrounding forested areas and blank valleys. That wasn't what had startled Marvin, though. Benji's eyes widened as he took in the labels inside the dotted lines: Centaur Territory, Fairy Ring, Troll Camp.

Benji took the map and spread it over his desk. He and Marvin both bent over it, examining it in silence before Marvin asked, "Didn't you tell me we were on a wildlife sanctuary?" They looked at each other. Benji imagined his mouth was agape in an expression identical to Marvin's: awe and wonder. "Just what exactly did you mean by 'wildlife'?"

"Apparently not wolves," Benji said softly. No wonder Grandpa forbade them to enter the woods. The map showed a distinct circle of woodland surrounding the farm. It was labeled as 'Neutral Territory.' The area of the farm had the moniker 'Protectorate' written over it in curling script.

The map was hand drawn, but it seemed relatively new, not like old parchment or something, but like a frequently read letter. Benji checked the top of the map. "Black Rock Sanctuary" was the title, just as Benji had seen it before. Could this be real? Glancing at Marvin's blue face, he thought it had to be. If genie's were real, it was a distinct possibility that centaur's were too.

"What about the book?" Marvin pointed at the book still in Benji's hand.

"I picked it up because it says the author is a wizard," Benji explained. He opened the small volume to display the title page. Marvin raised his eyebrows and shrugged when Benji asked him if he knew anything about wizards. "Sorry, not part of my education," he said.

Benji flipped through a few pages, before stopping somewhere in the middle. "The nature of Dwarves is ruled by an obsession with work. The creatures measure worth by how much effort is put into acquiring wealth rather than any apparent physical manifestations," he read aloud. He flipped some more pages and almost gasped at what was written there. The history of Dragons is well documented, but confusing in its complexity. Dragons?

Wordlessly he showed the passage to Marvin, who's expression went from wonder to fear. Benji gave him a questioning look and Marvin pointed to the map on the desk. There, in the northeast corner, between an area labeled Fire Pits and two mountains tagged as King's Teeth was another identifier in scrolling script. This one said, Dragon Territory.

### *****

### Chapter 16: Mære is Not a Horse

### *****

Sarah was grateful when Sylvie came up to take Kimmy home. She was glad to see the little girl and grateful for the chance to apologize for her cruel words, but it was taxing having the little bundle of energy rushing around the room.

Kimmy had appeared in Sarah's doorway after dinnertime. She was surprised to see Kimmy, thinking that after yesterday, the girl would probably want to stay far away from her. Sarah was happy to see that wasn't the case.

"I'm so sorry for what I said, Kimmy." She looked at her small friend standing in the doorframe. "I know that you have a special understanding with . . . things," Sarah apologized, "I was being unforgivably mean because I wasn't feeling like myself. I'm sorry."

"That's okay," Kimmy said. "Mom told me you were sick, but not with a cold." The girl seemed as jittery and excitable as ever, practically unfazed by yesterday's events. "Miss Rachel said you don't sleep when you should. I never knew that could make you sick. Do you think that's why parents are so strict about bedtimes?" She looked at Sarah curiously.

Sarah smiled at her. "Probably," she said and that was the end of it. Kimmy came and sat with her on the bed. They played go fish with a deck of cards Aunt Rachel brought earlier.

Kimmy talked nonstop, as usual, and told Sarah about the day. Sarah learned that two new frogs took up residence under the dock at the fish pond, the rabbits were moved into the barn because of the heat, and the roses out front were blooming in bright pink.

After the card game, Kimmy began to go through Sarah's trinkets and books lining the tables and shelves. Sarah didn't really mind, but she was still so tired. It was hard to keep up with Kimmy's sixty mile an hour speed.

When Kimmy and her mother disappeared into the hallway, Sarah fell back into her pillows. Surely she wouldn't be alone for long, she thought. Aunt Rachel had called a doctor in town apparently, Dr. Simment, and he recommended a few non-pharmaceutical remedies for insomnia. One was not taking naps, which Sarah didn't anyway, but, with that edict in mind, Sarah hadn't been left alone for the rest of the day. Sure enough, Aunt Rachel entered the room a moment later.

"You still look worn out," she commented as she sat on the edge of Sarah's bed. She reached over in an automatic gesture to feel if Sarah's forehead revealed any signs of fever.

"I'm just tired, Aunt Rachel," Sarah protested. "I'll probably be right as rain tomorrow." She smiled at the expression. "Kimmy told me I would be at any rate," Sarah confided to her aunt.

Aunt Rachel laughed. "Well, I'd almost trust that one's diagnosis as much as I trust the doctor's. Do you think you'll sleep tonight?"

Sarah shrugged. "I feel like I could, but that doesn't always mean I will," she admitted.

Aunt Rachel nodded, like she expected that answer. "This kind of thing is normal, I'm told, after the death of a parent," she said. "Dr. Simment was surprised you weren't automatically given anything to help with sleeplessness after your mom died."

Sarah suspected Aunt Rachel was fishing for information. Throughout the day, Sarah slowly became aware the adults were blaming her father for this episode. Todd was apparently persona non grata at Black Rock Wildlife Sanctuary and Sarah suspected this wasn't a recent development. She recalled the tense words he exchanged with Grandpa the day they arrived.

"We were required to see the guidance counselor at school," Sarah said even though Aunt Rachel already knew that. "He gave Dad some recommendations over the phone a few times for me and Tyler, but nothing ever came of it."

"And Benji?" Aunt Rachel prompted.

"Benji's counselor was a Mrs. Warren, I think. She and Dad had words one evening, but I don't know what about." Sarah wanted to defend her father. He wasn't a bad guy. "He was busy," she said. "We suddenly had only one income," explained Sarah. "Dad had to work harder and deal with all of us, too. He loves us, but he can't handle all the stress and work and deal with raising three kids."

"And you could?" Aunt Rachel's eyes narrowed.

Sarah ducked her head. "Well, I was the most responsible, so I helped," she said lamely.

"Uh-huh, and from what I can gather from Tyler, you helped so much he and Benji didn't have to do anything at all."

"I'm their sister," Sarah said defensively.

"But not their mother," her aunt's voice was soft. "Why don't you take a hot bath, sweetheart?" she suggested, dropping the subject. "The doctor recommended reading a boring book, too," she said, "so I brought you the most boring thing I could find." She held up a book Sarah hadn't noticed. A Brief History on the Science of Reason was printed in gold leaf on the cardboard cover.

"Thanks," said Sarah with a small smile. She took the book and watched Aunt Rachel leave the room. Sarah thought she saw Jessie out in the hall, but the other girl did not come in. That was a puzzle, she thought, getting out of bed.

Jessie lied to her yesterday. Kimmy had not, in fact, run off to cry. She was just upset for awhile. Adam came to visit earlier and told her that. He seemed surprised Jessie told Sarah any differently. Sarah wondered at Jessie's mean-spiritedness. Had she done something to upset her cousin?

Sarah filled the tub automatically. She took these baths so often that her skin had become smooth and soft like never before. Even her feet felt petal soft to the touch. She poured in a mix of crystals Aunt Rachel gave her that was supposed to be the most relaxing combination of scents she could come up with. Sarah hoped it would help.

She was startled to find everyone so worried about her. She tried to be grateful, but was only perplexed and somewhat annoyed by their behavior. Grandpa was the most confusing one of the bunch. He treated her like fragile china about to shatter at any moment. He popped in at least twenty times in the course of the day.

Sarah had been happy to find that she hadn't slept that late, when she finally got a look at the time. Only until nine-thirty. Apparently, though, when she wasn't down for breakfast, Grandpa waited for her. He was the one who sent Aunt Rachel up to check on her. He'd been her first visitor and looked haggard with worry, carrying his chessboard and box of playing pieces under one arm. He seemed to calm down after a while, but he was constantly asking her how she felt or if she was alright. It became irritating very quickly, but Sarah didn't say anything.

She sighed, when she slipped into the warm water. The flowery scent of the bath salts relaxed her. She left the light off, but the door to the bedroom was open and provided enough light to read by. Aunt Rachel was right. The book was incredibly boring. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to be sleep inducing and Sarah left her bath when the water went lukewarm. She was still tired, but unable to sleep.

She curled up under her covers, first one way, then another. She closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind. Then Sarah tried to count imaginary sheep like the ones in a mattress commercial she'd seen. An hour later, she opened crusty eyes to see that it was only eleven.

The sky was dark and cloudy outside her large window. She could only see part of the moon from where she lay and few stars were visible. She moved her coverlet aside and sat up in bed. And again noticed the two dark marks on the fitted sheet.

Perhaps a walk, she thought, would help her get to sleep. Maybe she could have a good cry in the maze, like she planned to last night. She knew she'd gone out last night. The smudged sheets and her dirt crusted feet had proven that. Sarah thought the rest must have been a dream. An exhaustion induced hallucination. She probably went no further than the entrance to the maze and then turned back. Partly curious and partly thinking a shadowed walk would help her sleep, Sarah put on sneakers and went out into the night.

It was darker tonight, but she could see well enough and didn't go back in for a flashlight. She wasn't looking to have her late night escape interrupted by overly anxious relatives. Jessie had a light on in her room, but she wasn't on the balcony, so Sarah didn't give her much thought. She went directly to left-most maze entrance, but hesitated before stepping through it. It was dark and slightly ominous looking in the faint starlight. Reaching out, Sarah assured herself it was just a green archway created with a clever trimming of leaves.

Sarah went inside and began navigating the maze. However long it took to reach the opposite entrance or get back out to the way she came in, would be the duration of her walk. That settled in her mind, she wandered the paths arbitrarily. But, suddenly, she was brought up short when an archway appeared where it should not be.

Tonight she was instantly aware this opening did not lead to the garden. There was a statue next to this opening, a dancing faun which should mark a length of blank hedge-wall. It did not. Instead, it stood to the right of the unfamiliar archway. The faun played his pipe in frozen euphoria, unconcerned at the oddity it now stood beside.

Sarah was hesitant. The archway was solid, the stones sturdy beneath her feet. Aside from the doorway being where it should not be, she didn't see anything suspicious. She took a breath and went outside of the maze. The path was still solid and real; she had at least enough sleep to recognize its authenticity.

The woods here made up part of the tree line surrounding the farm. The tree line Grandpa said not to enter. But his reasoning concerned disturbing some animal's home since there were supposedly no trails. This little corridor of trees was clearly paved with rocks, smooth from the presence of many feet. Sarah told herself it must be an extension of the farm, thus not subject to Grandpa's rule. Despite her misgivings, she started down the path.

It took a while, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes, to reach the part where the trail broke away. It tapered out, forming stepping stones that ran in an arc to the pavilion, just as Sarah remembered it.

Roman columns held up a flat roof, much like the pool area back at the house. Sarah approached the bench inside and ran her hand along the tall curving back before sitting down to face the lake. It was darker tonight, less iridescent; as if the lake water decided to absorb light instead of reflect it.

Across the water, Sarah saw a few faint glowing squares. She knew she wasn't close enough to Natalie to be seeing the town. Could this be part of the village she'd seen or was that part really a dream? And the boy, she thought, he might still be a dream too. Sarah leaned her head back, grateful in ways she did not anticipate to find the place was real.

The pavilion was a hidden shelter. Sarah could cry here, when she needed to. She could be alone here. She was startled to find herself crying right now. Light tears of relief caressed her cheeks. Sarah didn't wipe them away. She let the night blur in her vision, and sat with only the lapping lake for company.

"Here again?"

She jumped and jerked towards the voice. Sarah guessed what she'd see, but still didn't quite believe it. The boy stood as he had before. Starlight glinted off of his glasses, hiding his eyes. His hair, she realized, wasn't tangled, but was twisted into dreadlocks that fell to his shoulders. "You're real," she said, stunned.

"So are you," he replied solemnly. His voice was tinged with an accent Sarah couldn't place. "Why do you cry so much?"

When Sarah didn't immediately answer, the boy took a seat on the other end of the bench and looked at her inquiringly.

At first, Sarah wasn't she was even going to answer, but the strange boy's calm patience invited confidence. "I need to," she finally said, lifting her arms in a helpless gesture. "I haven't been able to cry for so long," she explained. "I cried when I ran, but I can't do that anymore. So I came here."

"Has life become so harsh? Has the outside world gone mad?"

She shook her head. It occurred to her she ought to be scared of a stranger appearing out of nowhere and pumping her for information, but she couldn't summon up the presence of mind to be truly cautious. "No, the world's not mad," she answered him. She gazed out across the lake. "Maybe I am."

He laughed. His voice was soft and reminded her of wind chimes. "I don't think you're mad," he said.

When he said it, she knew it was true. Sarah wasn't crazy. She wasn't dreaming this up or imagining things or having hallucinations. "I suppose not," she answered. For some reason, confirming her sanity didn't make Sarah feel any better.

"I'm San," the pale boy introduced himself after a brief silence. His pronunciation sounded Slavic.

"My name's Sarah," she replied. "Do you live in the village beyond the lake? If," she struggled, "there even is a village over there?" Sarah gestured across the lake.

San was obviously taken aback by her question. "There's a village," he said slowly. "It's been there a long time." He shook his head as if to clear it. "I live there with my sister," San explained.

"There's something different about you, isn't there?" Sarah said with an impulsive insight. "Something you think I should know, but I don't." She didn't like the strong feeling of being deceived.

He nodded. "I'm a mære," he said. "My sister and I are refugees here. We live in the village like many others."

"Mare? Like a horse?" Sarah thought this conversation might have taken a turn into Wonderland, but she'd already jumped through the looking glass. She might as well keep going.

"No," San said. "A mære is a fey being. You'd say fairy, in your language."

"A fairy?" she asked doubtfully. He nodded.

"What does a mære do?" Sarah wondered. "Sprinkle magic dust on unsuspecting children?".

San shook his head, sending his yellowish dreadlocks swinging over his shoulders. "We are dream walkers, riders of sleep. We've no power in the waking world, only in dreams."

"Why are you here?"

"Not long ago, my country went to war." He looked uncomfortable. "It was brutal, very bad. Many of my kind sought refuge. Even the fey are no match for human destruction."

Sarah tried to think rationally. This was a wildlife sanctuary. Did fairies count as wildlife? If there were dream-fairies living here, surely Grandpa knew about them. "Who granted you asylum?" she asked.

"The Keeper of Black Rock," San responded promptly.

That wasn't very helpful. "Who's the Keeper?"

"If you are asking," said San in a measured tone, "then I think it is not my place to say."

What a maddening reply, thought Sarah. Perhaps she needed a different approach. "I'm sorry," she apologized, "This isn't something I understand."

San looked tense and Sarah noticed his attire for the first time. He wore a light colored polo with jeans and sandals. It was oddly normal. He even sounded like a normal teenage boy. Sarah was having a hard time reconciling this normalcy with the strangeness of speaking with someone claiming to be a fairy.

"Why do you not understand?" asked San.

Sarah recalled the worry etched into her grandfather's face. This strangeness might explain such extreme concern. "I think I'm being protected," she said. From what exactly, Sarah didn't know. She suspected that Grandpa wasn't hiding fairies simply because they were a secret. The idea made her cautious.

"I would hope so," San said ardently. His sudden zeal startled her. "A one such as you needs much protection."

This was such an odd phrasing Sarah didn't know how to respond. Maybe humans were special to fairies? "What do you mean," she asked in confusion, "'one such as me'?"

San tensed even more and did not answer. Instead, he asked a question of his own. "How did you come to be in the sanctuary?"

Sarah considered insisting he answer her question first, but she was too tired. After all, San already told her his story, she might as well tell hers. "My mother died," she explained softly, without preamble. "My father went to Australia and my brothers and I were sent here, to live with our grandfather and aunt and uncle." Sarah shrugged nonchalantly even though she felt like crying again.

"Is that why you have so many tears?" San asked. He shifted closer to her and laid his hand atop hers. The gesture was disturbing and unexpectedly romantic. Sarah jerked her hand back in surprise and scooted away from him.

"I did not mean to offend," San exclaimed in remorse. "I meant only to help."

Sarah observed him warily. He really did look sorry, but she didn't appreciate his unsolicited entrance into her personal space. "I don't need your help," she admonished.

"Perhaps not in comfort," said San, "but I am not without ability."

Sarah sighed. She was tired. She didn't like the way San talked in riddles. "What does that mean?" she asked, exasperated.

"I am mære," he said. "I can sense your need for sleep." He raised his hands expressively. "It is within my power to give you sleep."

Sarah shook her head. She said hesitantly, "That doesn't sound like a good idea. I don't know you very well, and I've still got doubts you're even real."

"I am here," San spread his hands wide. "I am real." He studied Sarah intently, making her more uncomfortable. "I can help you sleep."

Sarah considered the boy before her. He seemed sincere. She was surprised by how appealing the offer was. Simple sleep. That would be heavenly, but what if he was lying. What if he did something else to her or messed with her dreams? What if he was the result of some kind of psychotic break she was having? Did she really want a cure for insomnia that came with so much risk? She wasn't sure.

"Why would you want to help me?" she asked suspiciously. "And just to clarify," Sarah added, "why wouldn't you hurt me? How can I trust you?"

"Some answers are not mine to give," he said cryptically. "I can give you only my word to cause no harm."

Sarah shook her head. At that moment she wasn't sure she wanted to hear San anymore. She thought about running away with her hands over her ears like Kimmy had done the day before. She was so very tired, though. If this was a dream, what could be the harm in accepting San's help? And if it wasn't a dream? She was too tired to consider all the implications.

"You will not be harmed," San interrupted her thoughts. "I swear my intent is only to give you respite. To let you sleep."

Sarah closed her eyes wearily. She could feel her sleeplessness like a plague ravaging her mind. She was aware her judgment wasn't the best, but at that moment, she might have sold her soul in return for a good night's sleep. When she opened her eyes, San was waiting patiently for an answer.

"Sleep sounds good," sighed Sarah. For good or ill, she took up San's offer. "How does this work?"

"Magic," San told her as he stood, "is far simpler than you think." San gazed down at her. He was tall, but this close, Sarah could see his eyes through the lenses of his glasses. They were large and dark, shadowed by his heavy features, but soft and kind.

When San reached towards her, she didn't back away. He twined two fingers together as if for luck, and touched her temple with them. On the cusp of darkness she heard him say, "Goodnight, princess." Then world was black and cozy. Sarah slept.

### *****

Sarah yawned and stretched herself awake. Sunshine beat against her window. She felt rested and calm, a combination far too elusive of late. She honestly couldn't remember the last time she slept so well.

She stretched again, and checked the time. It was later than she normally slept, but not an unreasonable hour. She felt good. Maybe her insomnia was over, a boring book and a day of rest cured it. Feeling so well had Sarah looking forward to the day with unusual cheeriness, so it took her a while to notice her sneakers.

Sarah was brushing her teeth when she looked down at her feet. She was wearing her sneakers. Why was she . . . ? Muddily, she remembered her dream. She'd gone out, back to the pavilion from her first dream. But she was actually wearing her shoes and they were crusted with grit. Did that mean it wasn't a dream at all?

Toothbrush in hand, Sarah walked back into the bedroom. The door to her balcony was open again. She went outside and leaned on the rail, running her gaze over the garden and maze. Nothing was amiss. There was no sign that she, or anyone else, had been out last night.

She must have been sleepwalking. Or sleep dressing, in this case. The alternative wasn't pleasant to think about. A strange fairy-boy putting her to sleep and carrying her back to her room? Sarah shivered despite the warm morning.

### *****

### Chapter 17: Everybody's Got a Secret

### *****

Benji knew Marvin was right. He had to return the book and map like they'd originally planned. But Benji couldn't believe how much he didn't want to do that. He wanted to read the book over and over again. In two days, he'd already read it twice. He copied some passages meticulously into a notebook along with a decent rendering of the original map. At least he could keep those, but he still needed to return the originals to Grandpa's study.

It was so unreal. Benji still had a hard time believing he didn't make it up. But the sparkly genie hanging out in his room was proof enough. The Handbook listed many other creatures Benji fervently hoped were real. Some gave him the creeps (like the blood drinking pixies), but most fascinated him.

The map was another wonder Benji was reluctant to relinquish. Soon after discovering it, Benji determined to check out the landscape of the sanctuary from the highest possible point. He wanted to see if the map actually matched the surrounding terrain. That meant going up to the attic, which he did yesterday. He sent Marvin back in the lamp and brought him along.

First they needed a compass. Benji was pretty sure the orientation of the farm on the map matched the actual farm, but he wanted be absolutely certain. He sent Marvin hunting through the attic junk for one and tried to find a window not blocked by impenetrable boxes. After successfully presenting Benji with an antique brass compass, boy and genie found a good vantage point. Benji checked the landforms outside to see if they coincided with the map's depictions.

Benji tried to find the mountains marking Dragon Territory, but that was too far east. There were no windows on the east side of the attic. However, his view was good from southwest to northwest. In the latter direction, Benji saw a trio of jagged peaks were framed against the blue sky. The map labeled them Three Sisters. He couldn't see beyond the forest directly to the west, a ridge blocked his view, but he could see the enormous silhouette of Dwarf's Crag, another mountain. Below that, sparse trees gave way to a misty valley. According to the map, centaurs lived there. After hours of comparison, Benji was finally satisfied the landscape matched.

Much to Marvin's dismay, he was ordered back into the lamp. Benji folded the map and pocketed the brass compass. He grabbed the lamp and hurried back to his room.

Benji rubbed the desk lamp to release Marvin, and unfolded the map again, returning it to his desk. That was when Marvin suggested he confront Grandpa.

"No! No way!" Benji exclaimed. "That is the worst idea you've ever had! Grandpa would probably deny it all anyway, and I'd get in trouble."

"Not if you told him about me," Marvin pointed out.

"I know what this is," Benji declared suspiciously. "You want to find out Grandpa if knows how to fix your powerlessness."

"That would be a benefit," Marvin admitted, chagrined.

"You may look like a teenager," said Benji, "but you've got no idea how real teenagers get treated." Benji tried to explain the many ways this idea could backfire. "For one thing, adults always assume you're lying. For another, they always assume you're irresponsible. Grandpa might believe me if I show him a genie, but he'd more than likely take the lamp away. Who knows what would happen then. He might not even want to help you, much less know how."

"But what if he does?" Marvin countered. "What if he's just waiting for you to find out about the dragons and the pixies? Maybe once he knows you know, your grandfather will be more forthcoming."

"Right," Benji said sarcastically, "and me breaking into his study was all part of the plan." Marvin shrugged as if to say it could happen.

They argued about what to do all yesterday afternoon. Benji was glad Sarah was feeling better and out of her room for the day, otherwise she might have heard them. It was daunting enough thinking of the problems he already had. He didn't want to add explaining a sparkly blue boy from the Depression Era to his list of things to do.

He was trying to weigh his options impartially, which is how he ended up in the hay loft. He usually worked with Uncle Matt in the barn, mostly cleaning or feeding livestock, but one morning they climbed into the loft to pitch hay and Benji found an old swing.

It wasn't a normal swing. It was really just a narrow board with rope running through the center and knotted at the bottom. Benji could see how you were supposed to sit or stand on the board and swing out over the loft. Standing, you could jump off into the hay. Uncle Matt told him it was dangerous, but Benji caught Adam a few times swinging like Tarzan and leaping into the hay with a muffled thump. If Adam could do it, Benji figured he could, too.

He wasn't swinging around like an ape at the moment, though. He had to think. And he needed to get away from Marvin. The genie was still insisting Benji confess all to Grandpa and hope for the best. After giving Marvin orders to stay in his lamp, Benji tromped out here to think in peace. He'd been sitting in the loft for awhile now, since just after lunch anyway, and it was almost dinner time. Benji let his feet drag against the floor boards and leaned contemplatively on the hairy old rope.

He didn't want to throw Marvin's idea away just because he was afraid of getting in trouble. Except 'trouble' could have some unpleasant consequences for both of them. Who knew what Grandpa would do with Marvin? Benji still wasn't entirely sure Grandpa knew anything about centaurs or dragons or magic. Grandpa could have inherited the map and the book and just considered it all nonsense. It wasn't likely, but it was still possible.

There was also another possibility: Grandpa could deny everything, take the lamp, and keep Benji (and possibly Marvin) in the dark. Benji thought that scenario was highly likely. In his experience, when grown-ups didn't want to explain themselves, they just called you foolish, patted you on the head, and grounded you without explaining anything at all.

The map and book would have to go back soon, though. Probably tonight. If luck was with him (and it was before, so why not now?) then everyone would be suitably occupied after dinner and Benji could sneak into the study. Considering the state it was in on his last visit, he didn't even have to put his stolen items back in their original locations. The place was a mess. Benji thought a few misplaced items wouldn't cause much of stir. He nodded to himself. He would return the book and map if he saw an opening after dinner.

There was a scuffling sound from across the barn. Uncle Matt and David were lugging a few crates of junk into an empty stall. They spotted Benji on the swing and waved him.

"Time for chow," Uncle Matt declared, giving Benji a pat on the back when he met them at the barn door. David veered off towards the caretaker's cottage waving goodnight to Benji and his uncle. Not feeling very talkative, Uncle Matt and Benji trekked into the kitchen in silence.

After dinner, Jessie ordered him to help her load the dishwasher. Benji complied without protest, thinking it would give everyone else time to settle down. Sarah offered to help, but was declined. That suited Benji fine. Since Sarah had been sick, everyone treated her with kid gloves. Benji didn't even know what was wrong with her, and he didn't really care as long as it worked to his advantage. He had enough on his mind.

Benji decided to dawdle around downstairs in the hope of an opportunity. He rushed to his room to collect Grandpa's map and book, quickly hiding them against his back with his shirt covering them and filled Marvin in. Without waiting for Marvin's response, he made it back to the parlor with (he hoped) no one the wiser.

He took a seat by the window and grabbed a book off the case, pretending to read it while keeping an eye on everyone in the room. Grandpa was reading the newspaper and Aunt Rachel was studying some soap recipe with Sarah. Tyler was outside in the pool after Uncle Matt and Jessie both challenged him to an evening race. Benji itched to get rid of his contraband, but schooled himself to wait. Getting caught wasn't part of the plan.

Once he was positive everyone was going to stay put for awhile, Benji made a pretext of visiting the downstairs bathroom. He tried to act normal. He even opened and closed the bathroom door loudly. If anyone was curious, they'd hear the noise and wouldn't think anything amiss.

The study door was a few paces further down the hall from the bathroom. Benji approached cautiously, successfully avoiding the squeaky board he encountered last time. He was sure the conversation in the parlor would drown out any noise, but it never hurt to be too cautious. So thinking, he turned the brass knob as far as it would go and opened the study door enough to slide his body through. He was in!

The study was still a cluttered confusion of books and papers. Benji went as stealthily as he could manage over to the filing cabinet he took the map from. He drew it and the book out from against his back, replacing the map in the drawer. The book went back to its shelf and Benji was done. Benji felt relieved his smuggled goods were back in their rightful places. Now, Benji thought, time for the escape.

Benji hustled back to the study door. He opened it slowly, without making it click, and saw the empty hall across from him. Benji relaxed and closed the door softly behind himself. Then he screamed.

Grandpa had been standing down the hall, just out of sight. His hands on his hips, a scowl on his face. Benji froze. He couldn't think. He couldn't even mumble one of the thousand explanations running through his brain. He just stared.

"I think we need to have a talk," Grandpa said. His deep voice resonated through the hallway. Benji gulped.

When he got his voice back, Benji started hurling excuses at Grandpa in a rush defense, but Grandpa cut him off and herded him into the parlor. Grandpa told Aunt Rachel to fetch Tyler from the pool. She looked curious, but did as he asked and soon Tyler entered the room, still dripping with pool water. Grandpa had the three siblings sit on the couch.

Uncle Matt and Aunt Rachel pulled up two chairs to flank Grandpa. The trio faced Benji, Tyler, and Sarah on the couch like grand inquisitors. If Benji hadn't been concerned before, he sure was now. Grandpa's expression was ominous, he frowned at each of the siblings in turn. A quick glance, showed Aunt Rachel and Uncle Matt's faces were just as serious.

"What's going on?" Tyler asked. He was toweling his hair dry.

"A lot," Grandpa answered shortly, "and I want to know if any of you three have broken my rules." Grandpa waited, his wrinkled visage stern.

Sarah spoke up first. "I might have," she said softly, "but it might have been a dream." Grandpa motioned for her to go on. "I couldn't sleep," she explained hesitantly, "so I went for a walk in garden and ended up in the hedge maze." Sarah met Grandpa's eyes nervously. "I went out what I thought was the exit, but it didn't lead to the garden. It went through the tree line. I followed a path to a shelter by a lake."

"Did you meet anyone?" Grandpa asked sharply.

"It was just a dream," Sarah insisted, but she looked panicky.

"Nevertheless, dear," Aunt Rachel said gently from her chair, "tell us if you saw anyone."

Sarah rolled her shoulders nervously. "I met a boy," she admitted. "He said he was a horse or something."

"A mære?" Uncle Matt asked. Sarah nodded. Before they could ask any more questions, Tyler spoke up.

"I had a dream, like Sarah," he said rapidly. "There was path, but it was out past the fields, not in the garden." Tyler's sentences ran together in his haste. "I checked it out in the daylight and saw there really was a path out there. I went back at night and followed it. It ended at a camp in the woods." The teen's speech halted there, but Grandpa pressed him further.

"Did you meet the hunter?" he demanded. Tyler nodded in wide-eyed shock.

"He said he had permission to be there," Tyler claimed. "But it was just a crazy dream. I dreamed him up."

Grandpa nodded as if he expected to hear that, but Uncle Matt was shaking his head. "It wasn't a dream," he told Tyler. He included Sarah in his address. "It wasn't a dream for either of you." The two of them just looked at him in disbelief. Aunt Rachel sighed and reached over to squeeze Sarah's hand.

Jessie choose that moment to walk in. She was wringing water out of her long red hair, but immediately sensed something was up. "What's going on here?" she asked cautiously.

"We're just going over how many rules have been broken so far," Uncle Matt said congenially.

"Oh," Jessie responded noncommittally. "Should I . . . ?" Her question trailed off.

"No," Aunt Rachel answered the unfinished query. "You can stay." She patted the arm of her chair and Jessie perched next to her mother.

During this exchange Grandpa's attention was directed elsewhere. He was focused like a hawk on Benji.

"What?" Benji said defensively. "What do you think I've done?" His tone was challenging, but his stomach was a knot of nerves.

"I don't know," Grandpa said calmly. "Why don't you tell me?" He stared Benji down.

Benji felt angry and ashamed, but he struggled not to show it. He thought he was careful, but apparently not careful enough. Benji wondered if he could talk his way out of this predicament. "I was just curious," he said, referring to this evening's jaunt into the study.

"About taxes?" Grandpa asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No . . . ," Benji said slowly. He tried to think up something more plausible. "I wanted to know why it was off-limits. Forbidding us to go in there seemed pretty strict just to protect a bunch of accounting stuff." The excuse sounded lame to his own ears, but he hoped Grandpa would buy it anyway. He didn't.

"And what exactly made you think there might be more to my rule than what I already explained?"

Benji sighed. At least he hadn't gone outside the tree line. Sarah and Tyler might have been eaten by dragons or something. Surely hiding a genie in his room wasn't as bad as that. Time for plan B.

"I found something," he confessed, "in the attic." He tried to keep it vague, but Grandpa was persistent. Grandpa stared him down again, waiting for Benji to continue. There was something deeply unfair about Grandpa's ability to produce a withered and threatening stare like that.

Benji gritted his teeth and looked down at the closed fists in his lap. "I found a lamp," he muttered. "It's just an ordinary desk lamp," he explained, "but when I went to clean it something happened and a . . . ," Benji stumbled over the word, "a genie came out." His shoulders tensed. He was aware how outrageous this sounded. "He says his name is Marvin, but he can't do any magic."

"How long have you had the genie?" Grandpa asked.

"Maybe a week," Benji said untruthfully.

Silence.

"Huh," Uncle Matt finally said, "that was unexpected." Benji looked up. He and Aunt Rachel were sharing a surprised look. When he looked back at Benji, he said, "So you've got a defective genie up in your room right now?" Benji nodded.

"Well, that's typical," Jessie said with a snort. "Why don't you go get him for us?"

Benji went, grateful to be leaving if only temporarily, but hesitated in the parlor doorway. Tyler and Sarah looked extremely confused and were staring at Grandpa like he'd grown an extra eye. Considering the weird stuff happening, Benji wondered if that was possible.

Aunt Rachel caught him staring and motioned him towards the stairs. "It's okay," she said, "we're not going to steal the lamp or anything."

Benji nodded, only slightly relieved, and hurried up the stairs. He opened the door to his room and ducked inside. Marvin was sitting on the sofa playing with a paddle that had a rubber ball attached to it.

"Grandpa knows and I need you to get back in the lamp!" Benji shouted. Marvin barely had time to look surprised before light erupted in the room and he was gone. Benji unplugged the lamp.

Back in the parlor, Grandpa told Benji to have seat and then summon the genie. Benji resumed his place on the couch between Tyler and Sarah. Everyone was looking at him. He felt his face go red, but began furiously rubbing the lamp. Heat made him drop the lamp on the floor (he'd forgotten that part) and a flash blinded the room. Marvin stood in all his sparkling genie glory right in front of Benji.

Sarah yelped and jumped in surprise. Aunt Rachel gasped, but Tyler, Jessie and Uncle Matt laughed suddenly. Even Grandpa looked like he was holding back a chuckle. He supposed Marvin's nerdy looks and blue skin were pretty amusing. Marvin was looking embarrassed.

"I take you weren't made by an actual Djinn?" Grandpa asked the genie, trying to control his mirth.

"If you must know," Marvin answred peevishly. He shot Benji an annoyed glare and straightened his glasses. "I was created by a very smart, but nevertheless inept, teenage boy around the time of the Great Depression."

"So I see," Grandpa said.

"Wait a minute," Sarah interrupted holding up a hand. "Does this mean my dream wasn't a dream? Does this mean it was real?"

"I've already told you it was," Uncle Matt said with a resigned sigh. Jessie was giving her a 'duh' sort of look.

"We knew this would happen sooner or later," Grandpa explained. His serious countenance had returned.

"Left Paw is real?" Tyler asked incredulously. "He's really some cursed hunter trapped in the woods."

Grandpa nodded. "Left Paw has been here since before I was born." He turned toward Sarah. "The young man you met was San," he said it like a question rather than a statement and Sarah nodded. "I imagine your insomnia drew him to you. The mære's have certain abilities where sleep is concerned."

This revelation seemed to frighten Sarah. Tyler looked thoughtful and relieved. Benji shared a glance with Marvin. They both shrugged. Who the heck was Left Paw and wasn't a mare a female horse?

"I guess we've all been keeping a few secrets," Grandpa said. "This will take some time to explain." He gestured to Marvin. "You can stay or go."

"Actually, I have to stay," Marvin said with a look at Benji. He sat on the arm of the sofa next to Sarah and leaned behind her to speak with Benji. "Why didn't you tell me your sister was so beautiful?" he asked unexpectedly. Sarah cringed, uncomfortable, but didn't say anything.

Benji regarded his sister. She looked like she always did. He rolled his eyes at Marvin and turned back to Grandpa. He was dying to hear what the old man would say.

### *****

### Chapter 18: Revelations

### *****

Tyler was unnerved by the appearance of the genie, but he tried not to show it. He kept a slight smirk on his face to mask his unsettled emotions. Left Paw was real. Tyler wasn't crazy. Unless of course Grandpa, Aunt Rachel, Uncle Matt and Jessie were crazy too. And Sarah and Benji. Mass hallucination? Something in the water? Tyler thought not.

His semi-silent friend in the woods was actually real. That was good news for Tyler's sanity. On the other hand, it implied other unpleasant things were also real. Like Tyler's nightmares. They had to mean something, something other than just lingering guilt. Left Paw told Tyler he was cursed. Curses were real. That wasn't exactly good news.

Sure, there might be cool things out in the world he'd never heard of. But that meant there were also dark things out in the world he'd rather not know about. The implications of a world where magic was part of reality were disturbing. He remembered Sarah once told him fairytales were originally pretty brutal and bloody. A heavy foreboding rested on Tyler's shoulders. Despite his insolent countenance, he was soberly awaiting Grandpa's explanations.

"I told you three," Grandpa began, "that Black Rock is a wildlife Sanctuary. That is as true a statement as I could make without compromising the sanctity of this establishment." Grandpa rubbed his chin in thought, looking at each of them in turn, including the genie, before continuing. "This place is a secret, something that must be protected at great cost. Not just from humans, but from 'others' as well." The old man's steely blue gaze was direct. "Once you're aware of the things inside these walls, you are bound to that secret as if you swore an oath. It is a great responsibility." In this case, Tyler was aware that 'great' didn't mean 'good.' It meant 'terrible.'

"If this is still a sanctuary," Tyler asked pensively, "then what exactly does it protect?"

Uncle Matt cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable. "We'll get to that," he told them. He motioned for Grandpa to continue.

"There are only three sanctuaries currently in existence," explained Grandpa. "This one is the youngest by far." His voice took on a storytelling cadence. He might as well have begun with 'Once upon a time,' Tyler thought.

"The sanctuaries," Grandpa continued, "exist to ensure the peaceful coexistence of all living creatures. The various races and species that we think of as 'magical' are often self-destructive. Humanity," he admitted, "can also be unforgiving. For that reason, there must be a safe and neutral place to provide amnesty, refuge, and advocacy, if necessary." The old man spread his gnarled hands to encompass the room. "This is that place," he said.

"This is a haven for beings with no other recourse," Aunt Rachel added. "We take in the oppressed of the world and house entire ethnic groups with decimated populations. When war breaks out among magical communities, the repercussions affect us all. Part of our mission is to prevent such things from happening or at least contain the aftermath."

"What about the dragons?" Benji interrupted impatiently. "Why are they here?"

"There are dragons?" Tyler asked, alarmed.

Grandpa, however, just laughed. "Don't get any ideas about becoming a knight errant or some nonsense." He pointed a wrinkled finger at Benji. "Dragons would be more likely to talk you to death than to eat you." He chuckled. "Dragons are here, yes, but they're not truly dangerous. They are a special case."

"What does that mean?" the genie, Marvin (what a stupid name for a genie!), asked.

"It means," Aunt Rachel pitched in, "they are political prisoners."

"And more boring than Algebra," Jessie put in.

. "The sanctuaries have a long standing agreement with the dragon community," Uncle Matt took up the explanation. "We confine political rebels and radicals from many populations, including dragons. Otherwise they would have wiped themselves out millennia ago." He shook his head sadly. "Dragon society is very complex. They put a lot of emphasis on government. It takes decades to understand their politics, it's incredibly confusing. Usurpation, impeachment, and policy upheavals are constantly underway."

"The greatest weapon a dragon has," Grandpa stated, "is a filibuster."

"That sounds lame," Benji said. He looked disappointed, but Sarah and the blue kid both wore expressions of relief.

"That it does," Grandpa agreed, "but we have to protect the 'lame' societies just as we do the more interesting ones."

"Why?" Sarah asked suddenly. Tyler was curious as well. "And why is it a secret?"

"Magic is an integral part of the universe," Aunt Rachel answered her. "It's another form energy contributing to the balance of the planet. There are alchemists who could explain it better," she continued, "but let's just say: if magic of any kind were lost or destroyed, removed from the equation, well . . ." she trailed off.

"Think apocalypse," Jessie finished helpfully. Tyler wasn't sure what was scarier, Jessie's assertion, or the fact that no one was correcting her.

"What about the secrecy?" Tyler asked again.

"That's a practical need." It was Uncle Matt who answered. "Humans and magic parted ways many centuries ago," he said. "Since that time, often out of simple fear or misunderstanding, humanity has sought to destroy the supernatural elements of the world."

"If we were to expose magic now," said Grandpa, "destruction would soon follow."

"So by not telling us," Benji queried in a sarcasm heavy voice, "you were averting the end of the world?"

"Something like that," Grandpa said. "More so, we didn't want to give you too much to handle all at once. As my grandchildren, you are actually entitled to the information."

"Wait a minute," Sarah interjected. She looked searchingly between the three adults. "Does dad know about this?" They each nodded at her solemnly and Sarah's shoulders deflated. She gazed intently at the floorboards. "Did mom?" The question was so quiet Tyler barely heard it.

"Yes, honey," Aunt Rachel replied softly, "she did."

Sarah raised her hands in a helpless gesture, but didn't look up. Tyler felt as if the floor just opened up beneath him. Even Benji was shocked motionless, his mouth agape.

Tyler never considered either of his parents could be aware. It hadn't yet crossed his mind to even ask. Neither of them had mentioned it or given any hints. "This is the real reason why we lived so far away," Tyler guessed. "This is why we never visited."

"When you were born, your mother and father decided it was too dangerous," Aunt Rachel explained. "As far as we knew, they always planned to tell you once you were older and out of school." She spoke gently.

"I agreed with her assessment," Grandpa said. "Raising kids here can be dangerous."

"What about Jessie?" Tyler wanted to know. "What about Adam and Kimmy?"

"It's a risk," Uncle Matt admitted. "But we've found that knowledge is the best protector and they're no more allowed to wander the property than you are."

"Which is why," Grandpa asserted gruffly, "you three will have to be prepared. You'll have lessons regularly from now on."

"Like school?" Benji exclaimed.

Grandpa nodded. "If you live here, you have to be prepared to deal with a wide range of circumstances. That means learning as much as you can."

"What if we don't want to?" Sarah asked. "What if we don't want know about any of this?" She'd drawn her knees up and was hugging them to her chest. Tyler frowned at her worriedly. Her eyes were large and haunted in her pale face. What was up with her?

"You were always going to find out sooner or later." Their grandfather spoke with remorse. "There is no help for it now and you need to be able to defend yourself if necessary, so information is vital."

"So what else lives here?" Tyler changed the subject. "We've got horses that have something to do with sleep, a centuries old cursed hunter, a non-magical genie, and dragons that talk too much? Anything else?"

Marvin snorted at Tyler's reference to him, but his blue face reflected curiosity. Benji also looked eager to hear more. Only Sarah was apathetic.

Grandpa leaned back in his chair and closed his steely blue eyes in concentration. Without opening them again, he began listing things off. "Redcaps who dye their caps with blood, pixies that enjoy tasty human snacks, a few crazy wizards and a hag, but they're relatively harmless. A sphinx, dwarves, acridien mice that breathe fire, fairies, centaurs, trolls, and many breeds of rare flora. Most are not allowed beyond their designated territories." Grandpa opened his eyes with a satisfied expression. "Our purpose also includes preserving certain non-sentient species, like special plants or animals."

"I imagine you saw the village across the lake on your midnight walk?" Aunt Rachel directed the question at Sarah. She nodded.

"The village," she said, "is where most of the humanoid refugees live. All creatures here have been granted asylum for various reasons or simply have nowhere else to go and are more or less free to live normally, without persecution."

"The village is the safest area of the sanctuary with the exception of the farm," Grandpa added. "We'll begin you're education with a fieldtrip there tomorrow after lunch." He clapped his hands and rubbed them together satisfactorily. "For now," he continued, looking all the world like a smug magician. "I'm going to give each of you a map and a handbook."

"This is a lot to process," Aunt Rachel said. She helped Sarah to her feet. "But please," she admonished, "don't venture beyond the tree line again." She held up her hand when Benji tried to object. "It's only a temporary rule," she said. "The more capable you prove yourselves to be, the more freedoms you'll have."

"What about me?" The genie raised a hand sheepishly. "I was told someone could help me or at least know what to do with me."

"I don't know that anyone that can imbue a genie with magic after it's already been formed," Grandpa answered thoughtfully. He rubbed the white stubble on his chin. "I can look into it, but I can't promise anything."

"Until then," Uncle Matt put in, "we can grant you the freedom to live in the village if you choose or I guess you can stick around here?" The last part of the sentence got turned into a question directed at Grandpa.

"I don't see what harm a powerless genie could cause," the old man replied.

Marvin looked like he just won the lottery. "You mean I wouldn't be tied to the lamp anymore?" he asked.

"No," Grandpa answered. The genie's excitement deflated. "I have no idea how to unbind a genie from its lamp." He threw Aunt Rachel a questioning glance, but she shrugged helplessly.

"The only thing we can do," she told the genie gently, "is get your master," she gestured at Benji, "to grant you freedom of movement. However, you would still be obligated to Benji or whoever releases you from the lamp."

"That's okay," Marvin said quickly, "anything is better than having to go back in the lamp right now."

"I'll see if we can figure something out," Aunt Rachel said with another shrug.

Grandpa motioned the others to follow him to study effectively closing the genie discussion. "Never had a genie in the house before," he muttered just loud enough for Tyler to hear.

Trust Benji to find a useless thing like Marvin. Who ever heard of a genie that couldn't grant wishes? For that matter, who ever heard of genie that looked like Alfalfa from The Little Rascals and lived in a desk lamp? Tyler shook his head as he followed Grandpa, fully expecting to hit a white padded wall at any moment.

He didn't. Instead, Tyler entered the mess of the study with his siblings. Uncle Matt dug around in a filing cabinet before producing a bunch of folded papers. He gave one to Tyler, Benji, and Sarah. They were topographical maps like the kind hikers used. The map was marked with dotted lines and symbols.

Aunt Rachel opened another drawer and presented them each with a tiny, palm sized book entitled The Key. Tyler flipped through the pages. It was a legend to the map identifying all of the symbols and adding short descriptions to the labeled locations.

By the window, Grandpa thumped a much larger tome on the surface of his desk. He added two identical volumes to his stack before addressing his grandchildren.

"The maps aren't for leisure use," he boomed. "I don't want any of you to go exploring without express permission." He glared them into acquiescence. "These books," Grandpa pointed to the stack on his desk, "are handbooks. They'll give you an overview of what's out there and protocols on how to deal with them." He handed one to Benji, who almost dropped his and shoved another of the heavy books Tyler's direction. "These by no means equip you to deal with everything," he added while handing the last volume to a reluctant Sarah.

"We get it," Benji said impatiently. "We're still not allowed to go anywhere or do anything." Grandpa gave a rough nod.

"Just see you remember that past the next twenty minutes," Grandpa reiterated. Benji muttered something, most likely something very rude, but everyone else ignored him.

Jessie had disappeared and Tyler thought it best he do likewise. He needed time to process this. The book in his arms weighed him down, but it was nothing compared to the heavy consequences of what he'd just been told.

Tyler left the study after some murmured good nights, and went up to his room. Sarah still looked troubled and pale. He worried about her, but didn't know what to do about it. Anyone else might think it was cool to be suddenly initiated into mythology like this. Except it wasn't myth. And it was dangerous. Tyler could guess why his sister was so upset. He wasn't too thrilled himself. It was like learning you're favorite teddy bear could talk. Only it also sucked your blood while you slept.

In his room, Tyler opened up the map and scrutinized it at his desk. He could see Left Paw's woods clearly marked. There were other forested sections denoted with lines in different colors and patterns. Tyler was surprised to note the sanctuary included a desert and a swamp. Those weren't landscapes he normally associated with Colorado.

He thought about going to see Left Paw despite Aunt Rachel's temporary rule. Tyler would love to get some additional answers from the hunter. The idea was inviting, but Tyler decided to peruse the handbook instead. The large tome bore no title, but it was far more interesting than anything else Tyler had ever read. He fell asleep with his light on, the book open on his chest to a passage about trees with blooms that could make you forget everything.

### *****

Aunt Rachel accompanied Sarah up to her room. They left Grandpa muttering at Marvin and Benji in the study. Strange, but a blue genie in horn rims was hardly the most alarming thing Sarah learned about this evening.

Her parents knew about this place. Todd left his three children in the middle of a dangerous preserve of strange beings. He and Mom were trying to keep them safe by keeping them away from the sanctuary. Safe from what, though? Sarah was afraid, but she wasn't sure why.

Aunt Rachel tucked her in like a baby and Sarah let her. She looked worried, but Sarah couldn't muster up any reassurances. Tyler and Benji would both be drawn to the dangerous side of things. They didn't see it as a negative. Of course, she didn't think anyone had ... . What had San done? Put her to sleep? Or something more?

He might have really been trying to help her. But it felt so strange. That whole interlude became disturbing under daylight's lens. It was so disquieting, Sarah leapt at the idea it was just a bad dream. She wished she could will it to be unreal. She'd rather be crazy than face ...what? San treated her respectfully for the most part, almost like a treasure. But a treasure he couldn't decide if he wanted to save or to steal. She certainly didn't want to be stolen, but did she need to be saved either?

Aunt Rachel turned out the lights and left the room. She must have said good night, but Sarah wasn't paying attention. She coiled her legs up beneath the covers and rested her head on her hand. Outside her window the moon was unhindered and bright. It made her wonder, though. How had she gotten back to her room? If San was real and he really did put her to sleep, then why did she wake up in her bed and not out under the pavilion? The obvious answer was that San brought her back to the house and into her room. This idea unsettled her even more.

Her gaze trailed to the window and the faint nighttime illumination shining through the panes. Sarah's attention was held by the handle on her balcony door. What if anything could get in? Quickly and quietly, Sarah got out of bed and turned locked the glass doors. She jiggled the handle to make sure it wouldn't open before getting back in bed. Still, it took a long time for her fear to subside enough for sleep to take over.

### *****

### Chapter 19: Fieldtrip

### *****

Benji was so keyed up he couldn't sleep. For one thing, he wasn't in trouble. For another, Grandpa was actually teaching him about magic and dragons and stuff. That was more than he ever hoped for. Maybe Grandpa Lee was more interesting than Benji thought.

Last night, Benji was the star of the show (and what a show!). It was actually fun presenting Marvin to the others. Sarah and Tyler just thought they dreamed weird things, while Benji's experience was tangible, corporeal, and sentient. He would trade mysterious treks through the tree line for solid proof any day.

Grandpa didn't even scold him. When Tyler and Sarah went up to bed, Benji thought he was in for it, but, surprisingly, Grandpa gave him no reprimands. He asked a lot of questions of both Marvin and Benji, but didn't criticize. Instead, he explained the whole master-genie thing to Benji.

According to Grandpa Lee, whoever released the genie from its lamp was the master of the genie. That meant, so long as Marvin didn't go back in his lamp and then get released by someone else, Benji was Marvin's master.

At Grandpa's insistence, Benji granted Marvin the ability to move freely and generally do what he wanted. Unless, of course, the genie was given a direct order by Benji, that is. Benji was far from unaware of the power he held over Marvin. He liked his genie friend, but he couldn't help feeling smug over the control he now wielded. Naturally, Grandpa gave him the with-great-power-comes-great-responsibility speech. Benji found he didn't mind, though.

After Grandpa fixed Marvin's mobility problems, he gave each of them two books (one huge, the other tiny) and a map. This map showed the mountains and valleys more clearly. It wasn't hand drawn like the stolen one. Uncle Matt made them on his computer. He was always updating them, whether anything changed or not, he had a drawer in his desk filled with them. The map Benji stole was actually twenty-five years out of date.

Aunt Rachel came back soon after that. She insisted on giving Marvin a room of his own. It was odd, not having Marvin stay with him anymore, but at least Benji got to keep the lamp. Marvin still had to obey him, if he gave a direct order, but he could roam at will now. Of course, Aunt Rachel also assigned Marvin the task of helping out with household chores. Benji didn't think Marvin minded much. He actually seemed to relish being treated like a human. It probably made him feel better about his lack of wish-granting powers.

With these thoughts churning about in his head, Benji tossed and turned all night until he finally gave up on sleep. It was barely light out when he jumped up from bed, hastily dressed and ran down the hall. He threw open the door closest to the stairwell and stared into a closet. Oops.

He tried the door on the opposite side of the hall, banging it open loudly. Benji was pleased to discover this one exposed the bedroom he sought.

"Good morning!" Benji called out mockingly. No answer. On closer inspection, Benji saw Marvin's blue form was an unmoving lump on the bed. He considered letting the genie sleep, but he was too impatient and excited. Besides, Marvin was the only person in the house Benji could confide in.

Benji walked up to the bed and leaned low. "I said," deep breath, "GOOD MORNING!" he shouted right in Marvin's ear. The genie leapt out of the bed, practically to the ceiling, and almost knocked heads with Benji in the process.

Apparently Marvin slept in his glasses. Benji never noticed before. Come to think of it, this was the first time Benji had ever seen Marvin actually sleeping. The genie's black framed glasses were nearly vertical on his scowling blue face. "What," he grunted, "are you doing in here?!" Marvin's blue face was set in a peevish façade as he straightened his glasses.

"Duh," Benji said, making himself comfortable at the foot of the bed. "I'm waking you up."

"I deduced as much," Marvin complained, "but do you mind telling me why?"

"I'm technically still you're master," Benji informed him. "I don't have to explain anything if I don't want to." He was only half-joking.

"I am almost certain," said Marvin, "that the reason you, O Master, are in this room is because you wish to tell me something."

"Was that sarcasm?" Benji asked. Marvin just raised a dark blue eyebrow in Benji's direction.

"I couldn't sleep," explained Benji. "I'm too worked up over Grandpa taking us to the village."

"No," Marvin interrupted with a yawn. "He's taking you to the village. I'm not allowed to go, remember?"

"Sorry," Benji said, not really sorry at all. "I forgot." Grandpa didn't want anyone else to know Marvin was allowed to stay at the house. He said it would set some kind of precedent and then they'd have leprechauns and yetis in all the guest rooms. Benji didn't think that would be so bad, but that was just his opinion. "Come on, anyway," Benji cajoled impatiently. "Let's get down to breakfast." He grabbed Marvin's arm and dragged him towards the door.

"But I don't eat!" Marvin protested. Benji ignored him and finally Marvin gave in, muttering all the way to the kitchen.

Downstairs, only Aunt Rachel was up. She stopped her cooking for a moment to great Marvin and Benji, but then resumed it, beating scrambled eggs in a bowl. It was then that Marvin pointed out the excursion to the village wasn't supposed to be until after lunch. That meant by getting up early, Benji was actually prolonging his wait. Benji stared at his grinning friend with a frown. Marvin was right. It was going to be a long time until noon.

### *****

Benji had reason to be thankful his morning chores were in the company of Uncle Matt and Adam. Their banter made the morning go by quickly and they were encouraging rather than cautious when it came to discussing the sanctuary. Unlike him, Adam had grown up knowing about the fantastical stuff that Benji was dying to hear about. Uncle Matt hadn't, but he certainly knew about it long before Benji did. Unfortunately, it seemed that everyone agreed dragons were probably the most boring creatures on the planet. That was disappointing.

Lunch came and went. Benji, Sarah, Tyler, and Jessie met Grandpa in the stables. Uncle Matt was supposed to come too, but he didn't seem to be there yet.

"I know none of you, except Jessie, are that familiar with riding horses." Grandpa said. "For this reason, you'll need to have lessons, otherwise much of the sanctuary grounds will be off limits. Not because you can't get to most places on foot, but because it would take to long."

"So we're not riding horses today?" Benji asked. He was actually looking forward to that part, not that he knew anything about horses.

"Nope," Grandpa shook his head. "We'll be taking the easy way to the village."

That sounded boring. "Then why are we in the stables?" Benji wondered.

"Because we need to pick up a few things from your Aunt's workshop. You didn't think this was solely a sightseeing tour, did you?" From the twinkle in Grandpa's eyes, Benji surmised he knew that's exactly what they thought.

Grandpa led the four teenagers into the workshop. There were three backpacks and two satchels sitting on the work table. The backpacks looked bulky, but Benji discovered they were actually pretty light when Jessie handed him one before taking one herself. There was the tell-tale clink of glass when he slipped the straps over his shoulders. Potions maybe? Grandpa didn't explain except to say they were supplies.

The two satchels were filled with papers and files. Grandpa took one and gave the other to Sarah. "This is a business trip," Grandpa explained. "I've been putting it off because of you kids, but now we've got a pile of paperwork to take care of."

"Paperwork?" So far, this was not shaping up to be the outing Benji hoped for. "What do you need paperwork for?"

"Can't run a sanctuary without paperwork," Grandpa said with a grin. He then directed them all to the garden where Uncle Matt was waiting.

"Are we going through the back of the maze?" Sarah asked. She hadn't spoken much all morning and her question was faint amid the noisy menagerie of the garden.

"Sure are," Uncle Matt said. He patted her shoulder. "It's usually hard to get through, the magic that conceals the other exit it is a bit testy, but it makes a nice short cut."

Grandpa waved them into the maze. The green walls felt close with their little troupe crowded inside. Eventually, Grandpa stopped in front of a blank wall of hedge. There was a little statue of a smiling half-goat man against the middle of the wall. Grandpa kicked it. Instead of connecting with stone, though, it looked as if Grandpa kicked a tire, his foot bouncing back unharmed. Nothing happened. Grandpa kicked it again and this time the air around the statue pulsed outward. When the air ripples reached the wall, leaves and stems seemed to grow in reverse leaving an arched opening.

"Cool," Benji breathed.

"It doesn't work all the time," Uncle Matt said. "Usually we have to go behind the fields and tromp through the forest."

"Why is it working now?"

Uncle Matt shrugged. "I don't know much about using magic and how it really works," he said, gesturing. "None of us know the origins of this particular doorway, but I think it's like a rechargeable battery. After a time it dies, then it needs a certain amount of downtime before it'll work again."

As Uncle Matt spoke, Grandpa led the way down a stone path surrounded by trees. Jessie and Tyler followed confidently close to him. Benji trailed a few steps behind them. Sarah hung back, walking more slowly than the rest and Uncle Matt brought up the rear. Sarah had been this way before, but Benji hadn't and he walked eagerly down the tunnel-like trail looking ahead in anticipation.

Before long, the trail widened and Grandpa skirted a row of stones leading to a shelter held up with pillars like the ones by the pool. They passed this, continuing east to follow the curve of a long, thin lake. Benji thought he could see houses on the other side of the lake, but he wasn't sure and they passed out of view the further he walked. It took at least half an hour to get around the lake, long enough for Benji to wish there was boat so they could just go straight across. Finally, they trudged through a grove of trees and the village spread out before them.

It was totally not what Benji expected. But then so few things were these days, he reflected. The village looked pretty normal. Aside from the unpaved roads (which were really more like dirt sidewalks), it could have been any small town in America. Even most of the people looked normal, although Benji spotted very young girls with wings and a man with leaves instead of hair. Grandpa entered on a side street and ambled up it to a slightly larger road that seemed to run down the center of the settlement.

The main road opened up to make a big square, where folding tables and tents were set up like an open air market. Beyond that, the road led to a big blue house with a fountain in front of it. Benji wasn't sure if the über-normal craftsman façade of the place made it more or less weird.

Grandpa was waved at by everyone they passed and the rest of them were getting curious stares. A few men and women (or whatever they were) came up to speak to Grandpa or Uncle Matt briefly and Jessie stopped to speak to a woman with skin like tree bark and curly black hair. When they got to the market, they were stopped more frequently, but Grandpa ushered most of the people off with a promise to be back soon and headed straight for the big house.

As soon as they passed the big fountain, a potbellied man with a big nose came rushing out the front door. "Finally," the man said. His accent was thick, maybe English or Irish. "I've been waiting a moon's turn for you to make a visit!" He shook Grandpa's hand and clapped him on the back. "And who've you got with you?" the man asked, looking around Grandpa. "More than the usual crew, I see."

Grandpa gestured toward Benji and his siblings. "Flanagan," he said with a smile, "these are more of my grandchildren." He pointed to each one in turn. "This is Tyler, the eldest." Tyler stepped forward and the portly man shook his hand with a whistle. "And Benjamin, the youngest."

Flanagan stepped forward to greet Benji and gave a big belly laugh when he shook Benji's hand. "This one's got the look of adventure about him," he said amiably, "you'll have to keep an eye on him." He gave Benji a wink before turning towards Sarah. "And the lovely lady's name?" Flanagan asked.

Sarah seemed jumpy since entering the village. Now she was looking at Flanagan warily. "I'm Sarah," she said without waiting for Grandpa to introduce her. The potbellied man took Sarah's hand and bent over it in an old fashioned bow. Sarah snatched her hand back quickly and backed up a few steps.

"A more perfect rose, I have never seen," Flanagan complimented her gently. Benji and Tyler both laughed, which a earned them a glare from both Flanagan and Grandpa. Sarah looked acutely uncomfortable.

Grandpa cleared his throat and steered Flanagan towards the blue house. "Flanagan is what you might call the mayor of this establishment," he called back over his shoulder, "and we've got no time for his nonsense as there's business to attend to."

"You always have to ruin a man's fun," the mayor said.

"I'll never understand," Grandpa said leading the way into the house, "how a lay-about such as yourself always gets reelected year after year."

"It's my charms and good looks." Flanagan held open the door for the rest of the party to enter. Benji glanced disbelievingly at the man's bulbous nose. He doubted it had anything with Flanagan's good looks. Flanagan waited for the six of them in the foyer and, with a slight bow, he said, "Welcome to my humble home."

Humble home my foot, Benji thought. The inside of the house was large and ornate, rivaling any southern plantation he had ever seen. It also seemed larger than it did from the outside and Benji wondered if that was due to clever decorating or perhaps magic. Flanagan led the way up a grand staircase and into a large office. There was a great curved desk in the middle of the room, which Flanagan sat behind, and several mismatched chairs scattered about. The mayor motioned for the rest to take seats as well.

"Flanagan is a recanted leprechaun," Grandpa said taking a seat in a wingback chair to the right of the big desk. "That accounts for his insistence on lush surroundings."

"Recanted?" Benji wasn't sure he knew what that meant.

"It means I gave it all up over a very important dispute," the former leprechaun chuckled heartily. "At least it was important at the time." He leaned back in his plush desk chair. "I'm sure the young ones are going to get bored with us very quickly," he said to Grandpa. "Why don't you send them out to the market?"

"Oh no," Grandpa shook his head vigorously, his mane of white hair waving with the motion. "This is part of a learning experience. I wouldn't want them to miss a minute." Grandpa and the ex-leprechaun both laughed this time. Benji really didn't think it was that funny.

Two hours later, Benji was slouching in a fluffy chair and wondering how the excitement of discovery could wear off so quickly. He was certain the whole point of this excursion was to make a show of how boring magic could be. And it was excruciatingly boring. While Benji found Flanagan entertaining, the paunchy man's jokes got old fast and his demeanor eventually became obnoxious rather than amusing.

Grandpa, Uncle Matt and Flanagan went over paper after paper. They wrote up contracts and renewed visas. They discussed a recent outbreak of usury in the village (Benji had to ask Jessie what that meant) and agreed that a law would have to be set down to prevent it. Apparently it was causing unrest and unrest in a semi-magical community could cause all sorts on irreparable problems. Benji wished they'd go into more detail, but neither man explained anything for Benji's benefit.

Finally, Grandpa gathered up what seemed like more papers than he brought and began returning them to the satchels. He asked the four teenagers to begin emptying the bags. After hesitating uncertainly, Benji began to pile the contents of his backpack in the middle of the floor. He was surprised to discover that his bag held glass bottles of olive oil and vinegar. Definitely not magic potions.

"What's all this for?" Tyler asked, pulling out a bag of white rice. Even Sarah looked a bit confused holding a can of Lysol.

Flanagan answered in his cheery voice. "Those, my dear boy, are things we can't grow or make ourselves. Little luxuries that get doled out to the masses. And of course those," Flanagan went over to Jessie who was taking out a box of extra-soft Kleenex, "are for me. My allergies are atrocious in the summer." He rubbed his big nose as if to exemplify his point.

"I trust we won't have any problems?" Grandpa asked.

"No indeed," Flanagan answered. "Take what Rachel needs and send her my best."

Grandpa nodded and Benji noticed the jars and bottles that his aunt sold her shampoos and soaps in were mixed in with the other goods. Jessie caught his curious stare.

"Everybody loves this stuff," she said holding out a little purple pot labeled 'oil of freesia.' Benji shrugged.

Once they had all the bags emptied out, Grandpa sent them down to the foyer. He and Uncle Matt explained they needed to have a few private words with Flanagan before leaving.

"Is it always like this?" Benji asked Jessie, exasperated. She looked just as bored as Benji felt.

"Nearly always," she answered with a shrug. "It'll get more interesting once we're in the market," she promised. "There's just as much red tape here as there is outside of the sanctuary. Probably more."

"That makes sense," Sarah spoke up. "It would be more complicated to protect this place with absolute secrecy than it would be to provide refuge for something that was on the nightly news."

Jessie looked surprised Sarah caught on. "That's right," she added. "The secrecy alone requires a lot of time and effort to maintain, not to mention every magical community has their own customs and set of laws that we have to respect."

"Otherwise they might object to the sanctuary existing in the first place," Sarah mused. Jessie nodded, but Grandpa and Uncle Matt came down before they could say anything else.

"To the market," Grandpa pointed out the door and, after farewells from Flanagan, they exited.

The market was as interesting as promised. A bulletin must have gone around announcing Grandpa's presence because as soon as they stepped out the door, they were flocked by people issuing greetings and asking for favors. Grandpa handled it well, but had to send Jessie and Uncle Matt on ahead with Benji, Tyler and Sarah so they could get the marketing done in time to make it home for dinner.

There was a longstanding agreement, Benji learned, between the vendors and Aunt Rachel. Jessie and Uncle Matt took them around to various stalls where they filled their backpacks up with an odd assortment of ingredients. Benji was handed a box of basilisk scales by an old lady with lizard-like eyes. He gathered jars of slime from a short, bald person who could've been man or woman, Benji didn't ask. Uncle Matt introduced him to each vendor, but Benji had a hard time keeping them straight. He was more interested in their wares anyhow. What did a jar of purple, sponge-like fungus do?

Their backpacks were mostly full when the group of five approached a white plastic table under a heavy white awning. A short, pale girl stood behind the table. She had big brown eyes and long white dreadlocks. Benji thought she had the modern hippie look down pat. She was handing Jessie a shiny wooden box when someone called out Sarah's name from behind them. Benji's turned toward the sound and saw a boy obviously the vendor's brother running up to the group.

"Sarah," he called out again, and halted his light jog in front of Benji's sister. "I'm so glad to see you, are you well?"

Sarah didn't look exactly happy to see him. Jessie nudged her. "You know this guy?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

After a moment of awkward staring between the pale dude and Sarah, she answered, "Yes, this is my . . . friend, San."

Benji stared at the newcomer curiously. "You're the horse guy?" he asked.

The girl at the table snorted. "We're mære," she said as if talking to a very slow child.

Benji shrugged noncommittally. Whatever. He'd ask Grandpa later.

"I'm glad you've met my sister, Mora," San was telling Sarah. He grabbed her hands in his and moved closer to her. "I'm so happy you're here," he repeated. "You still don't feel well, but it is better than before." That wasn't a creepy thing to say at all, Benji thought sarcastically.

Sarah yanked her hands away and rubbed them like they were cold. "I'm fine," she said. Jessie was looking between the two with a worried expression and Uncle Matt looked like he wanted to pull Sarah back from the hippie. "It's kind of you to worry," Sarah said politely, "but unnecessary." She took a step back, much to Uncle Matt's obvious relief.

At that moment, Grandpa came to fetch them. He shook hands with both Mora and San and some of the tension left the air. "I trust the two of you are well?" it was a pleasant enough question, but Benji heard an edge in Grandpa's voice. Benji felt like he'd just missed something big, but had no idea what it was.

"We are," San answered. "I was just reintroducing myself to your granddaughter. We've met previously and I was surprised to see her at my sister's stall. I was concerned by her earlier unawareness, but I see now, I shouldn't have worried." The pale guy's tone was equally edgy.

Grandpa glanced at Sarah who still looked unsure. "I know," Grandpa said. "Perhaps I could have a word with you and your sister for a moment." Grandpa asked Uncle Matt to stay behind but waved the others off. Benji was reluctant to go, he really wanted to know what was going on, but Grandpa sent a steely eyed glare their way that motivated Benji to follow orders. Jessie tugged a hesitant Sarah towards the fountain and the teenagers sat on the lip.

"Is he dangerous?" Sarah asked Jessie.

Jessie shrugged. "No more than any other guy, I guess."

"He's a weirdo," Tyler asserted.

"He's usually pretty nice," Jessie informed them. "Mora's the rude one, but they're both okay." Jesse hesitated. "He seemed way too interested in you, Sarah."

"Yeah," Tyler agreed, "he was certainly giving out some strange vibes. No offense, but I think he'd make a terrible boyfriend." Sarah laughed a little and agreed. Benji concurred with Tyler. That guy was weird.

Grandpa and Uncle Matt came to collect them after that. The dreadlocks guy stood behind the adults and waved when the group set off again. Benji suspected there was something he should have noticed, but he couldn't figure out what. It wasn't odd that a guy had a crush on his sister. That had happened before. Sarah didn't seem exactly pleased by the attention, but she'd been nervy all day, so that didn't really mean anything either. Benji shook his head. It was probably just wishful thinking. He really expected this day to be a lot more exciting.

They left the village the same way they entered. Their return trip was uneventful. Back at the manor, Benji was glad to find Marvin digging in the garden with Sylvie. He hoped to have time to fill the genie in on the events of the day before suppertime. First they had to deliver their wares to the workshop, though. Benji hiked his pack higher on his shoulder and lugged it out to the stables with his cousin and brother. Sarah and Grandpa took their satchels of paperwork to the study. All in all, Benji thought he got the better deal. If he learned anything today it was this: paperwork can make anything boring.

### *****

### Chapter 20: Mediation

### *****

Sarah was sitting on her bed wrapped in her white leaf-adorned robe, when she heard a knock at her door. She nearly screamed. She was jumpy and wasn't expecting any visitors this morning. She'd been trying to brush out the tangles in her hair while reading up centaurs like Grandpa asked her to. She started to call out, thinking it was Aunt Rachel, but the door opened before she could speak and Jessie popped her head in.

"Can we talk?" the red head asked.

Sarah nodded mutely and put her hairbrush on the bed. What on earth could this be about? Jessie walked in and closed the door behind her. She was dressed like a hiker today, in khaki cargo pants, boots, and a light denim jacket. Sarah thought she could have walked right out of an ad for L.L. Bean.

"What's up?" Sarah asked politely. She gestured for Jessie to have a seat in one of her gold desk chairs.

"I was mean to you," Jessie said bluntly. "And I want us to be cool, so I came to apologize."

"Okay," Sarah said uncertainly. This was unexpected, but welcome. Her rocky relationship with Jessie was worrisome and Sarah really didn't need one more thing to worry about. Besides that, Sarah thought she could use the other girl's advice. She was out of her league when it came to the sanctuary and it's strange denizens.

"Okay?" Jessie looked flabbergasted by Sarah's calm response. Did she expect an argument?

"I accept the apology," Sarah clarified. Then, thoughtfully said, "I ought to offer one in return. I know I'm not the easiest person to get along with, especially lately." She was aware that her presence and difficulties might cause some resentment in Jessie.

Jessie looked at her curiously and slowly shook her head. "See that's the problem," she said, "you're way too easy to get along with. You're not even mad at me, though I've been pretty mean and petty."

What was Sarah supposed to say to that? She wasn't an argumentative person by nature, that was true, but she was overly emotional and needy. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about," she answered slowly. "I was mad at you for lying about Kimmy, but only for a little while. I'm sure you had your reasons, and it can't be easy having three new strangers in the house. Four, if you count Marvin," she added.

Jessie groaned. "Do you ever get upset?" She sounded exasperated.

Sarah raised an eyebrow at her. "Of course I do, but I try not to do it in front of people or in the heat of a moment. I guess I'm just not confrontational." She gave Jessie a shrug.

"So what do you do? Wait until you've got complete privacy and then bawl and scream like the rest of us?" Sarah started guiltily. That was an accurate, but unanticipated remark. "You do, don't you?" Jessie looked surprised. "That's why you don't sleep?"

Sarah nodded. She really didn't want to have this conversation. Her private troubles were just that: private. Oh well. She sighed before replying to Jessie's questioning stare. "I couldn't at first," she said quietly looking intently at the peacock embroidered on her quilt. "Everyone else was so sad. I didn't want or need to add my own grief to theirs. Then it became a habit, I had to maintain control." Sarah lifted her hands helplessly, letting her hair brush dangle from her fingertips. "When I came here, I felt able to let go finally, but it scared me." She began brushing her long, wet hair again. The motion was soothing. "So, yeah, I've been holding every negative feeling deep inside, until I can find somewhere private to let it out." A thought occurred to her. "Did Adam tell you?"

"Adam?" Jessie looked confused. "What does Adam have to do with this?"

"He caught me once, a few weeks ago," she explained. "I used to run in secret before anybody else was up and I'd sort of have meltdown once I was far enough away from the house. He was taking a run and nearly tripped over me. I thought he might have figured it out."

"That explains so much!" Jessie said it almost to herself, and then she burst out laughing. "You want to hear something crazy?" she asked.

"Does it get much crazier than living in place that preserves magical creatures and shelters supernatural refugees?"

"Good point," Jessie said soberly. "I thought Adam had a crush on you or something, but I think he was just concerned. You make everybody do that, you know?"

"Do what?"

"Want to protect you," she said, matter of fact about it.

"Oh," Sarah said. "I've been getting that a lot lately." That was something she definitely didn't want to get into. She still hadn't told anyone about San putting her to sleep and bringing her back to the manor. She also hadn't mentioned his reverential behavior towards her. Instead of pursuing that line of inquiry, Sarah changed the subject.

"Did you really think Adam liked me?" she asked curiously. "Or did you think that I liked Adam?"

"Both," Jessie answered. And then, abruptly, "You don't do you? Like Adam?"

Sarah shook her head. "He's very nice," she said, "but I don't think of him that way. I don't really think of anyone that way at the moment." She didn't want to either. "Do you like Adam?"

Jessie shrugged uncomfortably. "Not really," she said, unconvincingly.

"So that's a 'yes'?" Sarah prompted. Jessie nodded her head miserably. And Sarah resisted the urge to smile. It was nice to be able to commiserate with a fellow female, but she was relieved when Jessie changed topics again.

"No one would think less of you if wanted to bawl your eyes out the dinner table," she offered. "I actually think they'd prefer that to you making yourself sick, especially Grandpa."

"It's not quite that easy, but I've been trying to get better," Sarah told her sincerely. "You're mom keeps threatening to take me to the doctor if I don't."

Jessie laughed. "So are we cool now?" she asked.

"I guess so," Sarah lifted her hands in a noncommittal motion.

"Okay, then, can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead," Sarah allowed, wondering what her cousin could possibly bring up next.

"Can I cut your hair?" Sarah burst out laughing at the unexpected request. "No I mean it," Jessie insisted. "Maybe it's the influence of Mom's beauty business or something, but those split ends really bug me. And I think it has potential if you'd just take care of it." She fingered her own long red hair, which was currently French braided down her back.

"I used to have short hair," Sarah said. "I guess I just haven't put much importance in a beauty regime lately."

"Well you should," Jessie promptly retorted. "Mom's always going on about how all women should feel beautiful and yada, yada, yada." She rolled her eyes, but grinned. "So can I cut it?"

"I guess so," Sarah said, surprising herself. She ran her hands through the long wet tangles of blond hair. "Why not?" she reasoned. It wasn't like she was trying to impress anyone. She was so used to looking scruffy and disheveled that she probably wouldn't mind if Jessie did something screwy to her hair anyway.

"Cool," Jessie exclaimed. She tugged Sarah to her feet. "And we've got to do something about your wardrobe." Sarah allowed herself to be pulled into the bathroom, and waited while Jessie hunted for scissors. "Seriously, this is going to be fun." She held up the silver blades and grinned at Sarah's reflection in the vanity mirror. Sarah's misgivings were more pronounced, but it was too late to withdraw permission. She anxiously watched as hunks of frizzy hair hit the floor around her.

Sarah was surprised by Jessie's result. Her hair was cut into a short bob that was longer in the front than in the back and she'd been given wispy bangs that framed her face. It was sweet, but practical. She could still make a short ponytail if she needed to get her hair out of the way. She was unexpectedly pleased by the result and felt lighter after the haircut. But Jessie hadn't stopped there. She insisted on going through Sarah's clothes, too.

The other girl gasped when she saw what was in Sarah's closet. She immediately began requesting to borrow things and admonished Sarah for her usual baggy attire. Despite Sarah's repeated protests that nothing fit her anymore, Jessie cajoled her into a pair of jeans, a blue tank printed with spiraling white butterflies, and long, thin draping sweater. Sarah was shocked to find the clothes actually fit. She was almost back to her normal weight. She hadn't even noticed.

Of course, everyone admired her new look at breakfast. Sarah was happy to let Jessie take the credit and shied away from the sudden attention. Both of her brothers actually complemented her hair. Never-the-less, Sarah was grateful when Grandpa said it was time to get going. He looked a little uneasy when Sarah and Jessie appeared for breakfast. He was probably anxious to get today's task underway.

Today, Grandpa was to be a mediator between the centaur community and a human named Alphonse. Alphonse was the resident caretaker before the Landys. No one actually knew what happened to Alphonse, except that when he was finally found he claimed to be able to see tiny creatures no bigger than fleas and became obsessively protective of them. This wasn't immediately considered bizarre, since they lived in a place where the supernatural was actually natural. Unfortunately for Alphonse, after an investigation, it was determined that a new creature had not been discovered and the caretaker was simply crazy. Because of his extensive exposure to the magical aspects of the world and his current instability, it was decided he should stay at the sanctuary. He wasn't much of a people person (unless they were little people, of course) and built himself an isolated house in a hollowed hill. Of late, he'd taken to wandering the grassy valley where the centaurs lived.

Centaurs were apparently not the warriors of Greek mythology. Instead, they were a tribal group of severe empaths and seers. Centaurs could feel the emotions of those around them to such an extent that it was almost impossible to distinguish someone else's feeling from their own. There were also a few who had visions of the future but Grandpa said they rarely saw anything helpful. Because of the emotional aspect of their nature, the centaurs were an extremely tight-knit group that kept to themselves. Alphonse's trespassing was considered a grave matter that could endanger their community by clouding their already muddled minds with his insanity.

Grandpa explained the previous evening that part of his job as a Keeper was to ensure peace within sanctuary walls as well as out. He was often called on to referee disputes inside the sanctuary or solve problems. He issued an open invitation to anyone who'd like to join him on this excursion, but only Sarah, Jessie, and Tyler said they wanted to go. Benji thought centaurs sounded boring and he and Adam were going into town with Uncle Matt to catch a movie. Sarah thought the centaurs were interesting and was looking forward to meeting one.

It was misty and cool when Sarah stepped outside. She was glad Jessie made her wear a sweater as she walked over to the stables. This time they were actually going to be on horseback, but since Tyler and Sarah weren't very good riders yet, they would have to ride double. Jessie came up behind her and offered her a gray baseball cap which Sarah gratefully put on. The bill helped keep the faint rain out of her eyes and off her face.

Inside the stable, it smelled musty and warm. David already had two horses saddled and waiting. It was decided that Sarah would ride with Jessie on the black mare, called Nora, and Tyler and Grandpa would take Jeremiah, a dark red horse. After mounting, Grandpa led the way out of the yard and through the trees to the southwest. The meeting was to take place in a clearing by Alphonse's hill.

The ride was mostly silent due to the dreariness of the day. Sarah was surprised to find it was short, too. It took barely fifteen minutes of clopping through steep woods before they stood on a rise overlooking deep meadow. To Sarah's right, there was a large mound with a chimney coming out of the top and a round door nestled near the base. It looked like a Hobbit's house from The Lord of the Rings.

Grandpa stopped the horses and had them all dismount at the bottom of the ridge. "The reason we had to come during the morning," he explained, "is to be sure that Alphonse is home. If he wanders, he tends to do it during the afternoon." He stopped Tyler's obvious question with a raised hand. "I don't know why, he just does. If you want a better answer you can try asking him, but I doubt he'll make much sense."

"What's with the tape-recorder?" Tyler asked.

"It's a formality," Grandpa said. "I have to witness the complaint and hear both sides before making any decisions and I have to document it all for the sanctuary's records." He tapped the breast pocket of his green long sleeved t-shirt. Sarah saw a mini-tape recorder sticking out of the pocket.

"You girls can go fetch Alphonse," Grandpa waved them towards the hill. "Just ask him to come outside. I'm sure he'll follow two pretty girls without much persuasion." Grandpa smiled and winked at them before heading towards the other side of the clearing with Tyler in tow.

Jessie and Sarah approached the little house and Jessie knocked sharply on the round door. It opened quickly and a thin man with a braided beard stuck his head out. "Friend or foe?" he asked in a whisper.

Jessie shared a look with Sarah. They both shrugged. "Friend," Jessie told him.

"Well then!" the man exclaimed with a large smile. He had a few missing teeth. "Come in, come in, the little ones have long been without company and so have I, yes indeed. I just built them a lovely carnival and I'm sure they'd love to show off their talents." He opened the door wide to reveal a dirt room with stones embedded in the walls like shelves and an old rickety table surrounded by two stools, a dining chair, and an overturned bucket. The shelves appeared to be covered with little models of houses made from sticks and leaves.

Jessie looked uncertain about entering, so Sarah invited Alphonse to join them outside. "We'd really much prefer to have short walk with you," she said with a friendly smile. "There are more friends outside and we'd like it if you were to join us."

"Well, well, well," Alphonse considered. "An invitation from a friendly lady. Ought not pass such a thing up. Nope, I'll have to take my leave." He called out the last part as if he was talking to someone behind him and shut the door. Sarah thought he was amiable enough, and possibly more eccentric than actually insane. Jessie led the way to where Grandpa and Benji were waiting in the clearing.

"Leland Rose, well, well, well," Alphonse greeted Grandpa. "Timely visit, as these young girls have just invited me for a walk. Don't leave until we've gone and come back, for the little ones would love to see you."

"Hello, Alphonse," Grandpa returned the greeting. Tyler looked nonplussed. "Actually, you'll have to take a rain check on that walk, I'm here on business," he said firmly. "Eryx tells me you've been disrupting their camp of late."

Alphonse appeared chastised and childlike. He started suddenly and stared at Grandpa wide eyed when two figures came out of the woods. The first hung back near the tree line. Obviously female, she was thin and graceful, but looked quite strong. Her human torso blended seamlessly into her horse body. She held bow and quiver of arrows was thrown over her thin shirt. It was made of brown fabric and wrapped loosely around her chest and stomach. Her eyes were huge, overly large in a narrow face and deep gray. She had chopped short hair standing in dark spikes around her face. The horse part of her body was a purple-black color.

The second figure continued forward. This centaur was male and wore a green woolen shirt, gathered and wrapped like a toga. He had a sinewy body, gigantic eyes a bright blue color, and long auburn colored hair that hung down his back in multiple braids. His horse body was light brown dappled with white. He greeted the group in the clearing with a raised hand and stopped a few feet away.

"Leland," he nodded to Grandpa. "We have wondered at the new presences felt in the air, are these new arrivals? Or are they something else?" The centaur looked intently at Tyler and then at Sarah.

"Eryx," Grandpa said by way of introduction, "this is my grandson, Tyler, and another granddaughter, Sarah."

If it was possible, the centaur's eyes got larger. "To have such offspring," Eryx intoned solemnly, "is truly a blessing. May Baät protect them in their new home." Baät was the god centaurs worshipped. Sarah read this morning that most scholars don't believe he actually exists or ever existed, but the centaurs were loyal in their devotion.

Alphonse cleared his throat and tried to leave, but Grandpa held him still. "Thank you," Grandpa said kindly. "Now I would hear your complaints so that we can return to peace." At odds with the old world formality of his tone, he clicked on the little tape recorder and waited.

"This man is one my people have great compassion for," the centaur began, "but he has disrupted our lives of late. He comes to steal," Eryx intoned gravely, "and invades our minds with his madness. Our minds must be strong lest we endanger ourselves and his sickness makes us weak. We do not care about the thievery, but he must be confined well away from our lands." The centaur looked calmly at Grandpa as he spoke with confident authority. Sarah found herself impressed.

"Alphonse?" Grandpa looked to the old man. "What is your rebuttal?" he asked formally.

Alphonse looked miserable. He kept glancing back to his mound-like home. "I ain't got one," he said sullenly. He was intently examining the ground. "I was gathering supplies for the little people," he whined. "The horse-people have lovely trinkets for decoration. I took them, but I don't know what he says about sickness. My mind is here, just where it ought to be."

Grandpa looked uncomfortable, but continued the mediation. "With no defense," he said, "I concede to grant the request of the centaurs and will limit Alphonse's boundaries to this grove. Is this satisfactory?"

Alphonse mumbled a yes, and Grandpa let him go. He stomped back to his hut with the stubborn air of a three-year-old. Eryx voiced his agreement as well and looked after the madman with sadness brimming in his large eyes. Sarah realized that if the centaur was empathic, he was currently feeling exactly as Alphonse felt. For that matter, he was feeling all of their emotions. She could hardly handle her own. How did a centaur handle so much?

"I would speak with that one," Eryx said suddenly when Grandpa bid him goodbye. Sarah looked up to find herself the object of Eryx's statement.

"I'm not sure—," Grandpa began to object but Sarah interrupted him.

"Why?" she asked the centaur. Grandpa looked at her curiously, but he didn't object further.

"You need guidance and comfort," the centaur spoke gently. "Your pain is in a deep place that my kind knows well," he explained. "It is my belief, Sarah Rose, that we can communicate in such a way as to relieve your hurts."

"Why would you do that?" Jessie asked at the same time as Tyler exclaimed, "What the heck does that mean?"

Eryx smiled. His manner was kind and cordial. "I like her heart," he said at length. "I think it is sympathetic with mine. Such a thing is rare to find in a human. I would ask for no recourse, just a chance to see if my senses are right." He looked at Grandpa. Grandpa said it would be alright if Sarah agreed. Eryx turned to Sarah.

Eryx didn't creep her out or make her uncomfortable like San did. He seemed so formal and benevolent. She wanted to speak with him. If he meant what she thought, he was going to tell her how to calm her emotions or at least advise her on how to manage them. Slowly, she nodded her consent.

"Come then," Eryx walked a little way to the left of the group, hooves bringing up clods of dirt in his wake.

Sarah gave Tyler's worried face a reassuring smile before heading off after the centaur. He stopped and faced her. "May I rest my hands on your shoulders?" he asked politely. He was much taller than her and she would have to stand close or make him bend down to do that. She felt safe, though, and was grateful he'd actually asked her (everyone else seemed to just barge in on her personal space regardless of her wishes). She nodded at him.

He pulled her close and she could smell his earthy scent. His hands felt heavy on her shoulders. Then he spoke. _Can you hear me, little one?_

Sarah was too shocked to move. He hadn't said a word, but she'd heard him clear as day. Could she speak back? She closed her eyes in concentration. _Yes_ , she pushed the thought out to him experimentally, _but how can I?_

_That, I am unsure of_ , came the reply, _but I felt your mind and heart as one when you entered the field. Such has never happened to me before. My companion could feel you also. I believe you are kindred to our kind. Your emotions are strong, yes?_

Sarah was comforted by the mental voice. Eryx felt gentle even in her mind and she answered him with honesty. _They are too strong. My mother passed away last year_ , Sarah explained, _and I couldn't allow myself to feel because I was afraid I would be overtaken. Here, though, that fear has become reality. I feel lost and out of control. I'm afraid all the time._

She felt Eryx's hand on her face and realized she was crying. When she opened her eyes, Eryx was crying as well. _Feel no shame_ , he told her. _Emotion binds us together and I am happy to have found such a human with such a heart._

_Can you help me?_ Sarah asked. It was an almost desperate plea that Eryx seemed to feel as deeply as she did.

_I can._ He closed her eyes with the tips of his fingers. _Follow me._

Intuitively Sarah knew he meant with her mind. She relaxed her shoulders and let her thoughts and emotions flow toward him. Somehow, Eryx was pulling her inside himself. His emotions flooded her own. His pride, his concern, his compassion, his worry, his determination. Each emotion washed over her like rain. Then he pulled her deeper. She felt all of the centaurs now. One was sad, one was irritated, one felt joy and another was feeling hopeful. These emotions, too, swept over her, flowed through her. And then she was feeling her own grief, her own fear. Involuntarily she shared these feelings with Eryx and with each centaur in his tribe. In return she felt . . . loved.

Eryx slowly pulled her back, but the sensation of being one with so many remained. She still felt the love and compassion of the centaurs like a gift. When she opened her eyes, Eryx was holding her face in his long, graceful hands. _You are sister, now, little one. You can feel us and we you. Distance will matter, but the connection will remain. You are strong in mind as well as heart, now._

Sarah felt oddly calm. She didn't have the same scrubbed empty feeling her crying jags gave her. This was different. She wasn't barren, she was whole. _Thank you,_ she told Eryx. He let his hands drop _. I can never repay such a gift._

_It was freely given_ , the centaur said. He walked back to the forest's edge. When he reached the female centaur he turned around and waved at her. _Be safe, little sister_. Then they were gone.

### *****

### Chapter 21: Boundaries

### *****

"What just happened?" Tyler ran up to Sarah and grabbed her hand. "Are you all right?" She was happy to see his concern, but appeased it quickly.

"I'm fine," She told him. She squeezed his hand before letting it go. "I'm perfectly alright," she addressed Grandpa and Jessie as they approached behind Tyler. The trio still looked worried. How could she explain what happened? She wasn't sure, but before she even tried, she wanted a question answered. She met Grandpa's gaze searchingly. "Is there something wrong with me?"

Grandpa reacted with astonishment. "No," he answered quickly, "I don't think there's anything wrong with you."

"But you knew that would happen, didn't you?" Sarah was certain she was right. "You've known all along that there's something weird about me. That's why you're so overprotective."

"What's going on?" Tyler looked between Grandpa and Sarah.

"Yeah," Jessie added her voice, "I'd love to know too. This is beyond weird; centaurs don't ever talk to humans if they can help it."

Grandpa's discomfort was obvious. His shoulders slumped and he sighed. His mane of white hair was heavy with mist. It highlighted the weighted expression he wore. "I didn't know," he said with a shake of his head. "I suspected, but I've suspected you might be . . . different for some time."

"Are we magical or something?" Tyler wondered.

"No, I don't think so," said Grandpa. "However, the three of you have a certain affinity for magic. It's drawn to you," he pointed at Tyler, "and Benji. Sarah seems to have a stronger pull than you two, though." Their grandfather appeared strangely old and weary. "Your mother was the same way," he whispered, "so I think it might have something to do with Sarah being a girl."

"Well that's not very fair," Tyler pointed out philosophically. It almost made Sarah laugh. "Wait," he looked thoughtful, "Mom was magical?"

"No," Grandpa seemed to be having a hard time coming up with answers.

"Humans can't be magical," Jessie interceded. "It's a genetic thing. If you ever hear of witches or something, they're usually not human or at least not fully human, anyway."

Grandpa nodded. "Yes, and since you've all been out in the world, in school and at the doctor's office and such, I very much doubt that you're of mixed blood. That's pretty easy to spot and tends to cause quite a stir."

"So what is it?" Sarah asked. "What are we?"

Grandpa gestured helplessly. "I wish I knew for sure," he said. "All I really know is that when your mother first came here, she stumbled onto our secrets fairly quickly and those within the sanctuary always treated her with acute difference."

"That's why she didn't want to stay here," Sarah thought aloud. "She wasn't afraid because this place is dangerous. The way she was treated scared her and she didn't want us involved. She was afraid we'd be the same. And she was right. I am, aren't I?" Sarah asked Grandpa directly. "I'm the same as her."

"Well," Tyler took Sarah's hand again, but she wasn't sure if it was to comfort her or himself. He was outwardly concerned and his eyes flashed with worry. "You look like mom," he said, "so that makes sense."

"Whatever it is," Jessie interrupted impatiently, "doesn't matter. What matters is: what the heck just happened with the leader of the centaurs?"

"What did happen?" Tyler asked her.

Sarah shrugged. It was her turn to struggle with words. They walked back to the horses as they spoke and she patted Nora's neck to give herself time to think. "It's hard to explain," she began hesitantly. "Mostly because I'm just learning about things like centaurs and probably don't have the right words."

"Try," Jessie said and flipped up the brim of Sarah's cap. "Can't be any worse than Grandpa's lame attempt at enlightenment." They all laughed, even Grandpa.

"I could hear him," said Sarah wonderingly. "I still can if he wanted me to, he's still pretty close."

Jessie looked astounded. "You mean like in your mind? The way centaurs can talk?"

Sarah nodded, "I guess so. He can hear me too. He said I had big heart and strong emotions, but he knew I was having a hard time handling them. I don't know, we sort of merged," she shrugged. Tyler made a gagging noise and she laughed. "Mentally I mean, and emotionally," Sarah clarified. "Gradually, it was like I was connected to all the centaurs, not just Eryx. Then I was me again, but I feel strange, whole," she struggled to explain. "Not more than I was, but like I suddenly found something I never knew I'd lost."

"That sounds pretty epic," Tyler told her.

"It was," she admitted. "Eryx said I was a sister now, to the centaurs. And even when he stopped touching my face, I could still hear him in my mind and feel his emotions, but I could feel the girl centaur's too."

"Can you feel them now?" Grandpa asked.

"A little. It gets faint the more they travel away from us. Eryx said distance had something to do with it."

"I'm not sure if that's cool or creepy," Jessie said.

"I've never heard of anything like it," Grandpa added, "but I think Eryx made you an honorary centaur somehow."

"How's that possible, if humans can't be magic?" Tyler wanted to know.

"Emotions aren't magic," Sarah answered thoughtfully. "Humans have empathy, too," she pointed out. "I think he just let me share his version of it." She shrugged and changed the subject. "So what do we do now?"

Grandpa hauled a few half-gallon milk jugs out of his saddlebag. "Now, we set some boundaries for our friend Alphonse."

Sarah was learning about this kind of magic from Aunt Rachel. Certain ingredients, when mixed together, could release small amounts of magic and create a desired effect. Aunt Rachel said it was like chemistry. You mix a few things together to get a specific product, but mixing things in the right order was really important. Sometimes you couldn't even mix it up beforehand.

Sarah thought it was funny that her aunt made a visible effort not to call her mixtures 'potions'. She asked Uncle Matt about it and he told her Aunt Rachel thought it sounded too clichéd. Which was true. It did sound pretty corny.

"We have to poor this around the grove?" Tyler was opening one of the jugs and eyeing the contents. The jugs were full of independent ingredients that Sarah knew, once poured on the ground, would make it impossible for Alphonse to cross out of his clearing. "Ugh! This smells awful," Tyler suddenly exclaimed, comically wrinkling his nose.

"Sure does," Grandpa agreed congenially. "This is what Rachel does with all those wacky things she gets from the village."

"So she doesn't use them in shampoo?" Tyler asked with more than a little relief in his voice.

"Good gracious, no, Tyler!" Grandpa roared, laughing. Sarah and Jessie both chuckled, too. "You think anyone would pour goblin slime on their hair?!"

Tyler looked embarrassed. "Nobody ever tells me anything," he muttered. But perked up quickly, saying, "I knew that." Sure he did, Sarah thought.

"Don't we have to pour them out in a certain order?" Sarah asked.

"We've got a page and half of instructions," Grandpa showed them a piece of notebook paper covered in Aunt Rachel's handwriting. "I think I've done this enough that we don't need them, though."

Jessie and Sarah both reached out for the paper. They read the instructions carefully before letting Grandpa and Tyler start pouring stuff onto the ground. The grove area Grandpa designated for Alphonse was fairly large. It took over an hour to complete the boundary. Eventually it was done and they set off on horseback towards the manor.

Alphonse didn't come out of his little house again. Grandpa said he was probably pouting.

It was late after dinner before Sarah got any time alone. She had to go through her experience with Eryx for everyone at least twice. This attention thing was getting out of hand. First everyone had to say something about her hair, now everyone was wondering why she'd been singled out. And why she could talk to centaurs telepathically. She dropped backwards onto her bed in relief. She would be glad when the attention shifted to Benji in a few days.

His birthday was coming up. Sarah nearly forgot about it. She felt guilty, but so much had been going on. At the dining table, Sarah took the liberty of pointing out the upcoming anniversary. This seemed to please her brother, he was much more comfortable with attention than Sarah. Dinner soon became a mix of speculation about Sarah and centaurs and questions posed to Benji concerning his birthday. It was a good meal.

There was just one thing that bothered Sarah. Neither of her brothers was overly concerned about their mother's uniqueness. Benji acted unsurprised, but with him it was hard to tell. Tyler was content to pretend the whole escapade hadn't happened, or so it seemed. Sarah on the other hand, was curious. There was so much about the world she never knew. And now she was finding there was just as much about her parents that remained unknown to her. The thought disturbed her. She didn't like mystery.

"You're scared too, aren't you?" Jessie asked her that afternoon. They were in Sarah's room, Jessie having decided it was her duty to rid the world of Sarah's baggy wardrobe.

"Huh?" Sarah looked up from a pile of clothes she was sorting through. She didn't want Jessie throwing all her comfy clothes away.

"Your mom," Jessie said, "you think she was scared because she was different and you're scared of the same thing. Not that I blame you," Jessie added holding up a baggy t-shirt with the Tasmanian Devil on it. "I like attention, but not the weird kind you've been getting."

Sarah smiled. She was glad her cousin was so blunt. It made Sarah feel like a more honest person herself. "Yes," she said. "I'm scared." She tried in vain to wrest the shirt from Jessie. She liked that shirt. "Not as much as I used to be, though. Mind melding with a centaur has given me new perspective."

"You're happier, too," Jessie pointed out. "I mean, you were happy sometimes before, but deep down it was easy to see you were still sad, you know what I mean?"

Sarah nodded. "It's been a strange day. First I get my haircut by a sixteen year old and then I'm inducted into the centaur sisterhood." She heaved a dramatic sigh. "I not sure which was more traumatic."

"Hey!" Jessie exclaimed. She threw a wadded up pair of shorts at Sarah. "Your hair looks amazing and don't you forget who did it!" Sarah laughed and Jessie stuck her tongue out at her. It was good to feel normal again. She hadn't felt normal in ages.

Jessie left not long before dinner time. She encouraged Sarah to go running in the morning, even offering to come with her. She said it was good for the soul. Sarah told her she would think about and shut the door after her. She reminded Sarah again after the evening meal, but Sarah wasn't sure she was ready for another run. Not yet, anyway.

Alone, Sarah reflected on the day. She actually felt tired. Like she might be able to really fall asleep. Thinking of sleep made her glance at the window. She still hadn't told anyone about San making her sleep and waking up back in her room. After meeting Eryx, she really didn't think San would hurt her, but it was unnerving to think a strange boy entered her room. San was probably just overzealous. Sarah was afraid she would never be able to sleep until she made sure uninvited guests stayed out of her room.

Sarah went to her balcony and contemplated the night sky. It was still drizzling outside. If she went out, she'd have to bring a flashlight. Did she want to go outside? What she wanted was to have a little chat with San. It was time to stop being so sad and frightened all the time. Sarah vividly remembered the feeling of love she shared with the centaurs. They would never have honored her in that way if she was weak or unworthy. If she was as unique to San as she was to Eryx, she could understand his desire to help her.

She slipped on her dirty sneakers and dug out a flashlight from her bedside drawer. Walking quickly, but carefully, she let herself out onto the balcony and hurried down the stairs to the maze. She wanted to get this over with and go to sleep.

Sarah wasn't surprised to find the secret exit already open at the back of the maze. She hurried down the path, wishing for a hat on to keep the chilly pricks of rain off her face.

She had never been to the pavilion this early in the evening. It surprised her when she saw the lights of the village winking bright and clear in the distance. But of course, it was barely half past nine. People would still be up. Sarah followed the stepping stones to the shelter of the pavilion, relieved to have the rain off her face and wondering how long she should wait to see if San would turn up.

Not long. She was facing the lake, watching the village lights blinking on and off when he walked up. She heard him this time. He stuck out sharply in the darkness because of his pale skin and hair. San looked surprised to see her.

"I didn't think I'd see you here again," he said. He was stood close beside her. The proximity made her uncomfortable, so Sarah moved away and sat on the stone bench.

"Why not?" Sarah asked. From the way San acted, she thought he expected to see her again.

He shrugged, but didn't answer. "Why are you here?" he asked instead. "You seem different." He cocked his head to the side like a puppy, looking at her curiously. "I don't sense your sleeplessness like I did before."

It was her turn to shrug. "I had a nice talk with a friend today," she said. "I don't think I'll need your assistance again."

"And you came to tell me that?" His dark eyes scrutinized her face.

"And I needed to ask you something," she said firmly. The beam of her flashlight made him seem otherworldly, which, she supposed, was exactly what he was.

He spread his hands in a wide arc. "Ask me anything," he said. "I won't lie to you."

"I don't know about that," Sarah muttered. She was unsure how to express her worries, so she took a page from Jessie and was blunt with her question. "Did you carry me to my room after you put me to sleep?"

San sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He suddenly looked like a very normal, very embarrassed teenage boy. "Yes," he said, "I sensed you might be concerned about that."

"Just concerned?" Sarah rose from her seat in agitation. She was a bit more than "concerned".

It was too dark to be sure, but she thought he blushed. "I actually began waiting at the pavilion because of you," he told her. "I sensed your need for sleep. It is in my nature to help you."

"So how did you get me back to my room? For that matter, how did you know which room was mine? Are you some kind of supernatural stalker?"

"No," he crossed his hands in a negative motion to support his statement. "When you fell asleep, I took you back to your room. I couldn't leave you out here. It might not be safe." He looked at her pleadingly. "I assumed the room with the balcony door open was yours. It seemed likely since no one else was in it. I carried you to the bed and covered you up, but that was it. I left. I swear I haven't been back."

"So you're not some kind of obsessive peeping tom?" She asked awkwardly. He shook his head. "Then why act so weird around me? It's creepy."

Behind his glasses, his dark eyes were remorseful. "I apologize for that. Your grandfather said I was being too forward, but from my point of view you deserve a certain amount of admiration. You are like a princess. I'm not sure I can treat you any other way."

Sarah shined her flashlight in his face and studied him. He looked sincere. "It's still creepy," she said finally. "And I'll still be locking up my room." She pivoted back towards the hedge maze wanting to leave it at that.

"Wait!" San grabbed her arm. She stopped but glared at him until he let her go. "This is wrong," he moaned. "I should be your friend."

Sarah sighed. "Why do we have to be friends?"

"We don't," he murmured, "but I would wish it." He glanced away. "I know it is strange," he stated. "I am not human and I doubt I shall ever live up to your human expectations, but I would still be your friend."

Sarah thought about it. He had a point about the human thing. San hadn't exactly grown up watching McDonald's commercials and eating French fries. Culturally they clashed. But Sarah lived at the sanctuary now, at least for a year. She'd been ready to accept Eryx on his own terms. It seemed like hypocrisy to deny San the same basic request.

"Alright," Sarah said softly. "I can't promise to come out here every night." She hoped her insomnia induced walks were at an end. "But when we see each other," she continued firmly, "either here or in the village, you'll try to respect my personal space. Deal?" She held out her hand. San shook it solemnly before letting her go. Sarah's flashlight bobbed in the darkness as she walked back to the manor.

Sarah still locked the balcony door and drew her curtains when she got back to the room, but she felt better. She wasn't sure about cultivating a friendship with San, but at least she was able to set some boundaries for herself.

Sarah changed into pajamas and got into bed, tired after the long day. She fell asleep quickly and woke just before sunrise to a knock on her door. She panicked momentarily, thinking of San's pale face, but it was Jessie who barged inside. She insisted Sarah get dressed and dragged her out for a run. When the two girls found Adam lacing up his shoes on the front steps, Jessie issued a challenge and called for a race. Sarah beat them both. They had longer legs, but she was faster, especially since she didn't have to stop for a sob session, anymore.

### *****

### Chapter 22: Birthday Wishes

### *****

"Benji," Tyler was calling to him, "Dude, wake up!"

"Come on, Benji!" Benji cracked his eyelids groggily. Mom sat next to him on the bed. She shook his shoulder. "Time to wake up, it's your birthday!" Mom was smiling down at him. "Happy Birthday!" she exclaimed excitedly when she saw his opened eyes.

Mom! The thought propelled him up to a sudden sitting position. He gazed in stunned wonder at the woman sitting on his bed. A sudden shaft of light illuminated her, as if a cloud had been blocking the sun. Not Mom. Sarah.

Sarah was smiling at him and sitting on his bedside. Tyler was on the opposite side. They each held a brightly wrapped package. "Finally awake, sleeping beauty?" Tyler ribbed him.

Benji grunted. He didn't trust his voice. He rubbed his eyes and hoped the gesture looked sleepy, not weepy. For a second, his world was right again. Mom was sitting there, smiling and loving and alive. But it wasn't Mom. It was just his sister. He wished Sarah didn't look so much like Mom. Hatefully, he wished she was gone. He'd rather be minus a sister than minus a mother.

At the moment, Sarah was holding out a thick, rectangular present, tied with blue and green string. "Happy Birthday," she said again. "Come on, open it." She acted like nothing was wrong. Benji knew differently and resented her smiling voice.

"Mmm . . . " Benji mumbled. He still felt disoriented. He grabbed at the shiny parcel. "What is it?" he asked sharply. He was aware of the irritation present in his voice. He also didn't care.

"Duh," Tyler said, "you have to open it to find out." His siblings were both grinning at him happily. What was there to be happy about? Benji managed to smile back, though. He didn't want either of them to know how he felt. How could they possibly understand?

Hastily, Benji ripped open the present. Beneath the paper was a large leather book with an embossed title. In golden calligraphy it read, The Chronicled Adventures of Benjamin Andrew Rose. He flipped the book open to find blank lined pages inside. "A journal?" He looked up at his sister in confusion.

She nodded. "Our lives are getting pretty interesting," she said. "Who knows? Maybe one day you'll do fantastic things and that book could end up in a sanctuary Keeper's library."

"It should be titled," Tyler interrupted, "1001 Ways for Benji Rose to get into Trouble!" Tyler laughed and Sarah smiled with mirth. Benji didn't think it was that funny. He muttered a thank you with as much enthusiasm as he could reasonably muster and set the journal aside.

Tyler shoved a big shoebox shaped present into Benji's lap. "This one should help with that," he said. Help with what? Benji wondered as he tore off the shiny paper.

Benji found an actual shoebox beneath the covering. He lifted the box lid and discovered an assortment of outdoor gear inside. There was a hunting knife, a flat and clear compass, a canteen, and a pair of binoculars. "Cool," he couldn't keep the approving remark back as he examined the broad knife, sliding it swiftly out of the sheath. He flicked it so that light bounced off the blade.

"Great!" Tyler clapped Benji on the back. He almost dropped the knife in surprise and glared up at his brother. "Since you like them, we don't have to sing happy birthday."

Benji laughed awkwardly. "No thanks," he said. "I think we can skip that for now." Sarah leaned forward for a hug, but Benji jumped off the bed to avoid her. He squeezed her shoulder instead. Both his siblings wished him a happy birthday again before they went down to breakfast.

Benji frowned at the door after they left. He could admit the gifts were nice. Even the journal was surprisingly thoughtful. He set the shoebox and journal on his desk. But the wake-up call left him disturbed. He felt like crying or yelling or both. He was fourteen today. A fourteen year old with no mother. There was vacant part of him that ached like a sore tooth.

It seemed so real, so normal! Mom was there, waking him up to wish him happy birthday. Just like Mom was supposed to. Benji never had a birthday without his mother. This was the first. He remembered neither Tyler nor Sarah celebrated their birthdays last fall. Benji was beginning to regret celebrating his.

He stared out the window at the bright morning. The last day of June dawned sunny and warm. A perverse part of him wished it hadn't. It should be raining and miserable. Exactly how he felt.

A knock sounded on his door as he was getting dressed. "Come in," he called unenthusiastically. It was Marvin. "Morning," he halfheartedly greeted the genie. "Shouldn't you be taking orders from the General, already?" Marvin was practically Aunt Rachel's new slave. He actually proved to be a great cook and, for some reason, Benji's sparkly blue friend didn't mind the chores.

Marvin smiled. "I haven't actually reported for duty, yet," he said. He stepped into the room bringing a trio of stacked silver boxes from behind his back. "Your sister told me it was your birthday. She said I should find you a present." He held out the boxes. "I found these while I was cleaning out a downstairs closet and I thought they would do."

Benji took the proffered boxes, noting the genie's nervous demeanor. "What are they?" Benji asked him. He examined the boxes curiously. They were covered in traces of dust, but seemed fairly new. None of the three had a label.

"Oops," Marvin stammered. If he wasn't blue, he might have blushed. "Here, let me show you." He took the top box and opened it, drawing out a sheet of paper. It unfolded to show a set of blueprints and instructions. "They're models," Marvin told him holding up the paper. "Not cars or planes, but I thought they might be what you call 'cool.'"

The figure depicted in the drawing was a triangular flying saucer with a single antennae-like eye. It looked the alien ships from the old War of the Worlds movie. "This is great," Benji told his friend, and he meant it. Marvin looked relieved. "Now I can have an invasion on my ceiling," he chuckled sardonically and indicated the numerous models hanging overhead.

"If I could grant wishes," Marvin said sheepishly, "I could have gotten you something really 'cool.'"

"This is great, Marvin," Benji tried to reassure his friend. Marvin shrugged. "Really, these are awesome," he tried to be more convincing. "I've never seen models of spaceships or aliens before."

"Well..., Happy Birthday!" Marvin practically yelled the salutation. "Aren't I supposed to sing to you or something?"

"Totally unnecessary." Benji waved his hands in a negative motion. "Just the present is enough." Smiling in relief, Marvin nodded gratefully. Benji thanked the genie for the gift and sent him out of the room. He needed a moment to himself.

Benji knew exactly what he would wish for if Marvin was a real genie. Even then, it probably wouldn't come true, though. Marvin told him genies could bring back a dead body, like creating a zombie, but they couldn't retrieve souls. If he could wish his mother back to life, he'd like to have all of her back, not just the shell of her body.

Benji stacked the silver boxes on his desk next to his other presents. He tried to rally a show of zeal for the day ahead. It was hard, though. Even if he hadn't woken up and mistaken Sarah for Mom, he'd still miss her today. It was only a few weeks after his last birthday that she died. One moment, his life was fine. Then, in a split second, it felt like life was over. And no one understood. Everyone said he would heal after a while. In time things would get better. Time had done nothing for Benji.

Neither his anger nor his sadness diminished. He found he could put the feelings away for a little while, like locking them in a box, but the box never stayed closed for long. Even after he learned about the menagerie of fantastical creatures surrounding him, he still felt the loss. He was mad, angry to a point that sometimes scared him. Especially now he knew about magic. Magic might have saved Mom. He didn't know how, but surely if genies, centaurs and elves existed, so did a way to save his mom. Or bring her back.

He flipped through the large handbook Grandpa had given him. Benji went through its pages every night in hopes of finding something, anything, that could resurrect Mom. Or at least explain why she was gone, maybe even how to communicate with her. So far, he hadn't found anything, but it was a big book. He could have missed something.

Benji went down to breakfast pensively, but smiled at the group around the table as if he was thrilled to be fourteen today. Aunt Rachel made chocolate chip pancakes in his honor. They were deliciously sweet and warm. Benji stuffed himself full of the treat amid repeated "Happy Birthday's". Chewing gave him the opportunity to rally his fake excitement.

After finishing two stacks of pancakes, Benji lethargically sauntered out to the barn. David and Adam told him happy birthday, but if he hoped for a reprieve from his chores (which he did) he was quickly informed otherwise. There was equipment to clean, cows to feed, horses to groom. It was so normal Benji almost forgot it really was his birthday.

Sylvie made chicken salad sandwiches for lunch. Benji ate them greedily amid many more birthday wishes. Aunt Rachel said everyone was coming to dinner that evening to celebrate and he'd get his presents then. Grandpa gave him a wink, as if they shared a secret, although Benji couldn't think what it might be. Unfortunately, because of the dinner, Grandpa decided that he should give them their daily dose of magic 101 during lunch. Usually he did it after dinner.

Benji was slightly discouraged to find that when Grandpa told them to study, he was quite serious. Every evening, he held an informal class. Sometimes he went over creatures or cultures. Sometimes history. Jessie had to sit through it too, though a lot of Grandpa's lectures were old news for her. Benji only partially minded. Some of the stuff Grandpa told them was really interesting. He hoped to stumble onto important information eventually. Knowledge that wasn't a lot of boring facts, but something useful.

Today, Grandpa cleared his throat in a deep rumble. The whole assembly gave him their attention, though Benji suspected only he, Sarah, and Tyler really needed too. The rest were well acquainted with the sanctuary and it's unusual residents.

"This should be interesting enough for Benji's birthday," he began and winked at Benji. He brought out a book from underneath his chair and turned it around to display a sketch of a tall man with lightening flashing around him. "This is an Immortal," he said tapping the illustrated page. He said Immortal as if had a distinct capital "I". "If you think he looks god-like, you're on to something."

"That's God?" Benji snorted. In his opinion, the sketched man looked rather puny.

Grandpa shook his head. "Not with a capital 'G'," he answered. "Not even with a lowercase 'g' for that matter." Benji raised his eyebrows in silent question. "Though this is a very powerful being," the old man informed them. Grandpa closed the book and set it aside.

"I don't think I quite understand what you mean," Sarah interjected, "except that they can't die and they're not human."

"That's the tricky part," Grandpa replied. He acted like he might give Sarah a gold star for her input. Benji folded his arms and prepared to be bored. "No one is quite sure what they are or how they came to be."

"Marvin said Djinn's were Immortals that gathered power and mastered creation," Benji chimed in. He wasn't nearly as clueless as everyone assumed. In fact, thanks to his nightly research, he probably knew more about the magical world than either of his siblings.

"That's true," Grandpa conceded. "Immortals are humanoid beings that have been around since the beginning, whenever that was. They are inherently magical and classify themselves according to interest and ability, rather than race." Grandpa's lecturing tone combined with Benji's full stomach made him sleepy. "The most common type pursue the manipulation and transfiguration of nature. What we know as Alchemy."

"Alchemy?" Tyler asked. "You mean changing lumps of coal into gold?"

Grandpa nodded. "Alchemy is more than transforming the everyday into gold, but that's the gist of the idea." Grandpa folded his hands on top of the table in a familiar gesture. "There are also Wizards, Necromancers, and Mages," he explained.

Benji's boredom dissipated quickly. His attention focused on one word, but instead of asking the question he wanted to, he asked about Wizards instead. It wouldn't be wise to let anyone know what he was thinking.

Jessie, not Grandpa, promptly answered him. "Wizards learn to replace one type of energy with another to get a certain result," she said, speaking as if she were reciting a memorized definition. On reflection, Benji figured that was probably exactly what she was doing.

Grandpa stepped in to explain further. "Like turning a rock into a pocket watch. The energy from the rock is replaced with the energy of a watch. Or the energy from words and feeling is replaced with the energy of an action or product."

"So basically they cast spells?" Benji clarified.

"Yes," Grandpa answered. "Unfortunately, Immortals tend to be jealous, petty and impulsive. Their long lives and harsh experiences often cause them to go mad. They have no real government, but band together occasionally in small communities or enclaves of learning."

"So," Sarah said thoughtfully, "when you said god-like, you meant the old pantheons. Like the Greek gods or other figures of mythology."

"Correct," Grandpa approved. Benji rolled his eyes. Another gold star for his sister. "Often, the insane or exiled Immortals end up in sanctuaries. There are eight Immortals currently in Black Rock."

"So what did they do to wind up here?" Tyler wanted to know. Benji was quietly glad his brother asked. He was insanely curious. The large tome Grandpa gave him didn't mention Immortals at all.

"Most of them aren't dangerous," Grandpa said. "A few aren't exactly sane anymore and there are others branded as too dangerous to exist in cohesion with the rest of the world. Some are in a self-imposed exile."

"Why would they do that?" wondered Tyler.

"There are a very few Immortals who study the oldest of magics," Grandpa informed them. "Djinns study creation and Mages study the patterns of the universe. Members in each of these groups tend to spend millennia in solitude with their studies. Sanctuaries provide security while they do so."

Benji surreptitiously tried to get a look at the book Grandpa laid on the table. It was thick, but actually appeared fairly new. Like many other books Grandpa owned, this one was without a title.

"There's a Djinn that lives on an island in the farthest western lake," Adam put in gesturing westward.

Marvin, who was sitting silently at the table not eating, interrupted excitedly. "Do you think the Djinn would help me?"

"I don't know," Grandpa said sadly. "He is in seclusion here. Other than a yearly visit to check on him, I am bound by the sanctuary laws not to disturb him or ask for favors. It was a specific condition on his admittance into the sanctuary."

Marvin's blue face deflated. The guy really couldn't catch a break, Benji thought. It was bad enough having to look like the original progenitor of nerds everywhere. Marvin's lack of ability made him all the more impotent in the genie department.

"The ones you really have to watch out for," Jessie inserted, "are Leoben and Horaque."

"Why?" Tyler asked. "What do they do?"

Grandpa clarified Jessie's statement for them. "Leoben is a Wizard and relatively harmless," he said "but he's a religious zealot. He worships an ancient and bloodthirsty figure called Magog."

"Like Baät?" Sarah looked curious. "The god of the centaurs," she explained after Benji and Tyler both looked questioningly at her.

"That's similar, yes," Grandpa admitted. "But there is no actual reference to a Baät except in centaur lore. Magog and his counterpart Gog are referenced in many texts, usually in a context of darkness." Grandpa's expression became serious. "Leoben developed a habit of trying to sacrifice humans to his god. He could not coexist with humanity anymore and was put here by Immortals more powerful than he."

"So what's the other one's deal? Horaque?" Benji demanded.

"Horaque is another Wizard with an unfortunate predilection for turning everyone he meets into a swan or a toad," explained Grandpa with a less serious demeanor. "You can see how that would become problematic."

"I take it he doesn't wander around free?" Benji's tone was sardonic. Grandpa assured them he didn't. Horaque was limited to a cave near a lake.

"What about the others?" Sarah reminded them Grandpa said there were eight Immortals and so far they only learned of three.

"They're not important," Grandpa dismissed the inquiry. "The others are extremely limited in their movements. We don't need to worry about them for now."

"Yes," Aunt Rachel agreed. "I think that's enough of a lesson for today," she said firmly and began gathering dirty dishes. "It's Benji's birthday, after all."

With everyone in agreement, the table was cleared and the company set off in separate directions. Benji, however, stayed at the table after the others left. Immortals were by far the most powerful thing Grandpa told them about to date. And there was one type Grandpa didn't explain: Necromancers. Any kid with a video game console or a computer could tell you what that was. Necromancers could bring back the dead.

Benji fingered the book on the table Grandpa left behind. Before he could lose his nerve, he swiped it and tucked into the back of his pants. He made it to his bedroom, hiding the book quickly under his mattress. No one stopped him, but Benji decided he would wait until this evening to peruse the volume. It was his birthday. He was supposed to be happy and clamoring for mischief. He went downstairs with a steadily cheerful façade covering his more serious thoughts.

Dinner was slightly more festive than lunch. Benji wasn't expecting much and was surprised to find the middle of the dining table stacked with a few gifts. Tonight's tableware was a nice set of gilt edged china and matching silverware. It vaguely reminded him of his first meal at the sanctuary. Despite the fancy place settings, Uncle Matt and David were grilling hamburgers outside by the pool and Aunt Rachel was making French fries in the kitchen. It wasn't his favorite food or anything, but he didn't object.

The Landys ate with them tonight. The dining room, filled with people, was stuffy and chaotic. Everyone was talking at once, asking Benji how it felt to be fourteen (the same as thirteen) and what he thought about starting high school in the fall (he was ambivalent).

Once the burgers and fries were mostly devoured, Grandpa stood up and, to most everyone's chagrin, initiated the happy birthday song. Benji endured it like any fourteen-year-old would: with red cheeks and a self-conscious grimace that might pass for a smile if no one looked too closely. When the singing was blessedly over, Marvin presented Benji with a round chocolate frosted cake, adorned with fourteen colorfully striped candles. Elaborately scrolled white icing read Happy Birthday Benji! Ceremoniously, Grandpa lit the candles.

"Make a wish, Benji!" Kimmy urged. The l ittle girl clapped her hands excitedly.

"Yeah," Tyler added encouragingly, "Blow out the candles already!"

Benji took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He knew his wish intimately. He woke up with it screaming inside his brain every morning and went to sleep with it whispering on his breath.

Benji opened eyes and blew, making sure that all fourteen candles were extinguished. In the gray haze of smoke spiraling up over the cake, he saw Mom sitting across from him, clapping her hands with a proud smile.

Marvin moved the cake away. Through the clearing air, he watched as Sarah laughed and smiled on the other side of the table. His mother wasn't there and never had been.

Benji tried to be pleased with his presents. Adam and his family gave him a huge Swiss army knife. It came with a little book listing all its multiple uses. Aunt Rachel and Uncle Matt gave him various clothes more suited to the Colorado climate and terrain than anything he already owned. Jessie presented him with a movie pass to the Cineplex in Natalie. He opened Grandpa's present last.

The shiny balloon covered paper concealed a blue and silver chess board. The pieces were carved in the image of dragons. A chess set? Benji liked the gift, but it was a reminder of how disappointing life could be. What kind of life was it when a kid found out dragons existed only to learn they were boring, pontificating politicians? Nevertheless, he thanked everyone profusely and smiled a large aching smile.

He was rescued from all the 'goodbyes' and 'thank yous' by a phone call. In the kitchen, he grabbed the phone Uncle Matt held out for him. Benji watched him leave before speaking into the receiver. "Hello?"

"Benjamin!" Grandpa James' low booming voice declared. "Happy Birthday!"

"Yes," Grandma Shirley was on the line, too. "Happy Birthday, darling."

Their slow southern voices seemed slightly alien after all of his time amidst the twang of Colorado. "Grandpa James, Grandma Shirley," he addressed them, attempting a cheerful tone. "I'm glad you called."

"Now how could we miss talking to our grandson on his birthday?" Grandma Shirley laughed in her smooth voice.

"Fourteen is a big turning point for a man," Grandpa James said. "You'll be in high school come fall and nearly grown."

"I guess," Benji said noncommittally. "I really miss you guys." He should have been starting school in Mobile, not in Natalie. The town otherwise known as Nothing, Colorado.

"We miss you too, honey," Grandma Shirley said, "but I'm sure living on a farm is plenty of fun and keeps you busy."

"You'll get hearty and tough out there in the West," Grandpa James added. As if Benji had been sucked into a spaghetti western instead of abandoned to strangers across the country. His resentment threatened to overwhelm him, but he choked it back. He didn't think his grandparents would take his side. After all, they hadn't wanted to take care of Benji or his siblings in the first place.

"Your Uncle Steve sent you a card." Grandma Shirley changed the subject. "I'm sure he put some money in it. Our birthday card should get to you in a day or two if it hasn't already."

"I haven't gotten anything, yet," Benji told her, "but we get our mail late sometimes."

"Well, it'll arrive shortly then," Grandma Shirley assured him. "Have you heard from your father? I'm sure he misses you kids terribly."

"Not, yet," Benji answered. He didn't think Dad would call. He suspected that his father had forgotten today's significance.

"Oh, well," Grandpa James sounded gruff. "He'll call when he gets a chance." Doubtful, Benji thought. "We just wanted to let you know we love you and hope you have a good birthday."

"Thanks," Benji said. Grandma Shirley gave her love and told him to tell Tyler and Sarah they were loved and missed, too, before ending the connection. Benji relayed their message when he went back to the dining room.

It was getting late, nearly ten-thirty, when everyone finally disbanded. Benji gathered up his few gifts and went to bed with a chorus of good wishes sounding off behind him. He dumped his loot on the bed and surveyed the room. The presents from Tyler, Sarah, and Marvin were still on his desk, piled haphazardly. His room was dark and quiet. He missed having Marvin there all the time.

Benji clicked on his bedside lamp and reached beneath the mattress. He tugged out the heavy book he stole this afternoon and sat down on his bed. Grandpa wasn't yet aware it was missing. That suited Benji fine. He knew his grandfather would object to his purpose.

Benji flipped through the book until he found the drawing Grandpa showed them at lunch. It marked the beginning of a section on Immortals worshipped as gods. That wasn't what Benji needed. He tried the back pages in hopes of finding an index and was in luck. A very long alphabetized list covered the last thirty pages of the book. Benji scanned the listings under "N" for Necromancy. He found the corresponding page number and hastily located the correct passage.

Necromancy: the Immortal study of the dead, read the page heading. This was exactly what Benji was looking for! He read on quickly. Necromancers cultivate relationships with the beyond. These practitioners can enter into the realm of the afterlife in body, mind, and soul. The strongest Necromancers can even bring souls out of the beyond or send living souls to death. Benji's palms began to sweat with excitement. Finally, he was learning something useful. He scanned the rest of the section, but was disappointed to find it was incredibly unspecific.

The last short paragraph in the chapter was cryptic and unhelpful. Use of their own souls as power sources leaves a Necromancer weak. The potential for their own corruption is great. Access to the beyond is rarely attained without sacrifice. Necromancy is generally done with great secrecy and often has a dark purpose. Was that the reason for so little information contained in the chapter? It was secret? Benji felt his excitement ebb into disappointment.

He had to find out more. Benji turned back to the index in frustration, methodically going down the listings. He was surprised to find a familiar name within the Bs:

Black Rock Sanctuary,

SEE: Three Sisters

Curiously he found the indicated listing and paged over to the appropriate chapter. It appeared to be a story.

Three Immortal sisters, Thana, Vidan, and Ceice, exemplify the need for Immortals to keep their power in check, the narrative began. Once potent Necromancers, they feel victim to the darker urges of their craft. Each fell in love with the same man, an old and prominent Immortal. How clichéd, Benji thought, a bunch of women fighting over a guy. This was the reason guys had that "bros before hoes" rule. He shook his head disdainfully as he read further. Ruthlessly, the sisters pursued their quarry. They undermined each other at every turn, hoping to make their competition give up in frustration.

Benji skipped over an account of exactly what the sisters did to each other. He continued reading towards the bottom of the page. The Immortal in question rejected all three sisters. Benji snorted. Go figure. In their feud, contact between the sisters was broken and, before discovering their rejection was the result of another, they each blamed their siblings. Thana believed she had been rejected in favor of Ceice, Ceice rejected in favor of Vidan, and Vidan thought the Immortal had chosen Thana. In a rage, the sisters called upon a dark power and issued a curse on the object of their hatred and jealousy.

The next page described each sister's curse and Benji read on eagerly. Thana was cursed with the sight of death. She bears witness to the death of each and every creature in this plane of existence.

Ceice's curse was of silence and sound. Her voice was rendered silent but her hearing made painfully acute.

Vidan was cursed with a hunger of the body and spirit. She can touch nothing without stealing its life-force. Food rots in her hand, but she must eat regardless to appease her endless appetite.

Ugh! She ate rotten food? That was just gross, thought Benji. The other two curses didn't sound so bad to him, but that last one was disgusting. What did these three have to do with the sanctuary, though? Benji scanned the text looking for a clue. He found it near the end of the chapter.

According to the book, the sisters became vengeful and unruly. Madness overcame them and each grew to be a danger to society. As a solution, they were exiled to a sanctuary. This sanctuary, to be precise: Black Rock. Each was given a domain and confined to a single mountain.

They were here! There were three Necromancers living inside the sanctuary. Benji could hardly believe it. Would they know how to bring his mom back? Would they tell him? How could he find them? Benji let the book slide from his lap as he stood, letting his thoughts rush around in his head.

He had begun to forget things. He forgot the way Mom smelled, he couldn't quite recall the sound of her voice, he tried in vain to hold on to memories of her smile. What good was knowing about magic if you couldn't do extraordinary things? There were things out in the world, powerful beings, that were magic. Some of those beings could even raise the dead.

At his desk, Benji picked up the journal Sarah gave him: The Chronicled Adventures of Benjamin Andrew Rose. Lifting the journal dislodged Tyler's shoe box. Both the canteen and transparent compass tumbled out. The compass dropped with muffled thump onto his map of the sanctuary. One end of the clear rectangle was a magnifying glass. It currently enlarged a mountain, one of three that were smashed together, and a little red dot. Benji glanced between the book and the map on his desk.

The three mountains were boldly labeled, Three Sisters Mountains. On each mountain, the red dot was given a name: Thana, Vidan, and Ceice. The dot enlarged by his compass was Thana's. Benji had seen the mountains before, both outside in the distance and on the map. He looked at the bright red signifier with new eyes; eyes wide with fear and excitement.

Benji stared resolutely at the mountain on the map. He cleared off his desk, leaving the map bare. He hardly cared that Marvin's models were knocked to the floor with a crash. Benji dropped the journal and retrieved a black marker from a desk drawer.

It might take a day or two, especially since he wouldn't be riding a horse, but he could make it. He'd have to go the long way around a lake to avoid a few hazards, but it was possible. Steadily, Benji drew a curving route from the manor to the farthest of the three mountains. After circling the dot marking Thana's residence, Benji started to pack.

### *****

### Chapter 23: Missing

### *****

At nine o'clock, Uncle Matt and Adam realized Benji wasn't at the barn yet. At nine-fifteen, Aunt Rachel knocked on Benji's door, but got no answer. At nine-twenty, Aunt Rachel and Uncle Matt decided Benji must be playing hooky. At nine-thirty, they surreptitiously searched the house and farm, but found no Benji. At nine-fifty, Grandpa caught on and went up to Benji's room, knocking loudly on his door in case he was still asleep. At nine-fifty-one, Grandpa turned Benji's doorknob to find it locked. At ten o'clock, Grandpa broke the door open and shoved his way in to discover the room was empty. Benji was missing.

Tyler was oblivious to all the commotion because he was helping David repair the lawnmower in the equipment shed. He didn't find out until Aunt Rachel rushed up to him and demanded to know where Benji had gone.

"How should I know?" Tyler retorted. His little brother was probably just taking the day off, maybe snooping around in the attic.

"Please, Tyler, think! Did he say anything yesterday about going somewhere?" It was then Tyler noticed the urgency in her voice.

"No," Tyler said slowly. "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure," his aunt looked pensive, "but we can't find Benji anywhere."

Tyler and David went back to the main house with her. In the kitchen, Sylvie and Marvin were telling Grandpa they scoured the house from cellar to attic without finding Benji. Jessie arrived and said she checked the pool house with no result. Grandpa was worried. He had everyone search the grounds within the tree line. Sarah and Adam even ran up to the gate and back, but they reported no sign of Benji.

Grandpa told Tyler and Marvin to go up to Benji's room to ascertain any clues to the boy's whereabouts. Marvin pointed out the cleared desktop and tumbled gifts on the floor.

"What does that mean?" Tyler asked, exasperated.

"Benji might be messy," Marvin said, "but he doesn't leave stuff on the floor. And why is the desk clear?" The genie began opening drawers.

Tyler had to admit the blue nerd was right. "His books are gone," Tyler noted. With a growing suspicion he began rummaging through the bookshelves. "Did you find the map?" he called over to Marvin. The blue head gave a negative shake. "Damn!" Tyler began searching more frantically. Grandpa's handbook was gone and the shoebox Tyler gave Benji yesterday was empty. He found Sarah's present, the journal, and held his breath as he opened the cover.

Benji had written his name on the inside flap and on the first page were yesterday's date and a brief entry. What good is magic if you can't use it to do the impossible? Tyler read the line again. What did that mean? Tyler wasn't sure what Benji was planning, but after another quick search of the room, he was positive Benji had packed for a trip beyond the tree line. He just had no idea where his little brother could be going.

Downstairs, the entire family plus the Landys were gathered around the dining room table. Grandpa just received word from Flanagan that no one in the village had seen Benji either. Tyler and Marvin both took seats.

"Did you find anything?" Sarah asked. Her face was a mask of worry.

"I think we can be sure he's left the grounds of the farm," Tyler announced. He tried to school his features as he explained what he found, or rather what he didn't find, and showed them the journal entry.

"What could he be thinking?" Aunt Rachel asked. She looked to Tyler and Sarah.

Tyler shrugged. "I have no idea," he said, "but he's obviously got something specific in mind."

Sarah was shaking her head slowly her eyes wide. "Benji knows he can't do magic," she said slowly, "so whatever he's up to might have to be done with something that can."

"What about an Immortal?" Jessie asked. "That's what we talked about yesterday. Maybe he figured they could do something he wanted."

"Bargaining with an Immortal!?" Aunt Rachel gasped and looked a little sick.

Grandpa was stern as he spoke. "That's likely, but we've got no idea which Immortal. And if it's true then we've got stop him. Immortals demand high prices for services rendered."

"High prices?" Sarah squeaked. "What kind of prices?"

"Not money," Grandpa said gravely. "I hope we can catch up to him before he provides us with an example."

"You won't be able to track him," David interrupted. "We've searched the boundary of the farm and I never found any sign of him. Most likely he left late last night and the morning dew coupled with animal activity has covered his trail."

"Then our best bet is to figure out where he's gone," Sarah said. The table was quiet. "Somebody must have a clue! Marvin?" She turned to the genie.

Marvin shook his head. "We've talked about Djinns before, but nothing recently. And nothing that would make him go out into the sanctuary. Maybe he's just curious?"

Voices debated across the table, trying to come up with a reason Benji might leave, but Tyler wasn't listening. He had an idea, but he didn't think Grandpa was going to like it much. "Okay!" Tyler interrupted the banter. "He could be anywhere. He could've gone to check out the dragons or spy on the giants or ask Horaque to turn him into a frog. We've got no good leads, and a lot of speculation."

"I take it you have a suggestion?" Grandpa scrutinized his face. Tyler nodded.

"I think I know someone who could track him, even with a cold trail, even in the dark. I know a guy who could help us."

"Who?" Sarah asked hopefully. Tyler could tell he'd have his sister's support, but Grandpa was already shaking his head.

"Left Paw," Tyler answered quietly, "the hunter in the woods."

"No," Grandpa responded immediately. "He's dangerous and selfish. We can't trust him."

"Why not?" Sarah countered. Tyler was glad his sister was taking up the idea. Grandpa might listen to her.

"He's done more wrong in the world than most people," Grandpa answered after a moment. "That man was cursed for a reason and the centuries have not mellowed him much."

"That doesn't mean he won't help us," Sarah said stubbornly. She addressed Tyler, "Do you think he would help?"

Tyler nodded, but Grandpa answered before he could say anything. "That's not the point! We couldn't trust any 'help' he might give us. He's cunning and—," he stopped when Aunt Rachel put a hand on his arm.

"Dad," she said quietly. "You're right, Left Paw is a dangerous man. But Tyler's right, too. He could be of great help to us."

"I think you could trust him, if you made a deal with him," David put in. "He is cunning, but he'll fulfill a promise. You'll just have to be careful." Uncle Matt seconded the idea.

Grandpa looked torn. "Fine," he said finally, "Left Paw represents our best chance to find Benji quickly, but if we depend on him we'll be on foot. Horses can't abide his presence. That will cost us time. We need to move quickly. I want David and Matt to accompany me and as soon as we've had a quick lunch we'll set off."

"No way!" Tyler said at the same time Sarah stood and shouted, "No!" at their grandfather. The whole table was taken aback by her vehemence. Tyler was even surprised.

"No," she said it more calmly, looking directly at Grandpa. "Tyler and I know Benji best. If Left Paw gives us a lead, we may be able to figure out where he's going and cut him off somehow. We're younger and quicker and Benji's our brother. We will find him."

This speech was met with silence. Tyler couldn't believe his sister said that. Sure, he'd been thinking the same thing, but after the way she acted when they first discovered the secret populace of the sanctuary he figured she'd run for the hills rather than go out into the unknown. She stared his grandfather down with her shoulders back and her chin up. She looked like a queen after giving an order. Tyler hardly recognized this person as his sister.

"She's right," Jessie added quietly, breaking the tense silence. "She and Tyler have the best chance of finding him. And they can maintain a quick pace. Speed will count."

Sarah still didn't take her eyes off Grandpa. The old man nodded once. "As much as I would like to keep you two from the same danger Benji's walked into, your point is valid. But I will be going with you." He raised a hand to stop Aunt Rachel's immediate protest. "I may be old, but I know this terrain better than anyone and I'm still strong enough to keep up with you two."

Grandpa also decided the group should be as small as possible. Too many people would make the journey more difficult. In the end, only Grandpa, Tyler, and Sarah were going to hunt for Benji. After that was settled, activity filled the house like a tornado as Tyler and Sarah prepared packs and changed into serious hiking gear.

Tyler was suddenly glad he let Aunt Rachel talk him into buying sturdier clothes last week. She noticed that he, Sarah, and Benji didn't have proper clothes to work in. He was always wearing an old pair of Nikes and Sarah actually went to the stable one morning in designer jeans. After that his Aunt insisted they go into Natalie for more durable clothes.

They ended up actually going all the way to Durango so they could shop for Benji's birthday. That's where Tyler picked up the hunting knife, hiker's compass, binoculars, and canteen for Benji. He was currently wishing he bought the kid a video game instead.

He gathered up a change of clothes and, as Jessie recommended, lots of extra socks and underwear. "A person could go days in the same ratty t-shirt and jeans," she told him, "but good socks and clean underwear were still a must." She was helping Sarah pack right now.

Sarah had a fierce look about her that Tyler had never seen before. He'd gotten so used to her depressing calm, it threw him seeing her so commanding and forceful. She was clearly worried about Benji and Tyler suspected she had at least a vague idea of why the kid had run off. Strange, he thought, that a Vulcan Mind Meld with a fantastical half-horse made his sister a better human being. Still, Tyler wished she didn't insist on coming.

He was grateful she took up his cause so readily and relieved she was able to convince Grandpa, but he didn't want her along. There was something unnerving about the way she was treated by the sanctuary's inhabitants. Something that Tyler couldn't identify. He only knew he didn't want her out there and he especially didn't want her around Left Paw.

Tyler took his bundle of clothes and gear down to the kitchen. It was ground zero for staging this whole venture. Sylvie was getting food rations together, though Tyler thought it was unnecessary. If Left Paw was with them, they could always hunt.

Earlier, Sylvie and Aunt Rachel discovered a number of granola bars and a box of cereal were missing. Half a case of bottled water was gone, too. At least they knew Benji wasn't out in the wilderness without provisions.

Uncle Matt and David were trying to convince Grandpa to let them go in his stead, but Grandpa was adamant. Benji already had a huge head start. A group of three, plus Left Paw, was plenty and Grandpa assured them he could handle anything they came across. As the Keeper he was granted more respect than anyone else. That would be necessary to pass through certain areas.

"I hope you know what you're doing," Jessie said from behind Tyler. She was talking to Sarah.

"He's my little brother," Sarah said. "I'm going to find him." Her face was set in hard lines.

"You two don't know what it's like outside the boundary," Jessie insisted. "It's more dangerous than you guys realize."

Tyler turned around to face her. "Look," he said, "I know you think you're Lara Croft, but we can handle this. We're not idiots."

Jessie made a frustrated sound. "I know, I know," she said.

"You're worried about us," Sarah said. She put a hand on Jessie's shoulder. "It's nice that you are. It's good that you are. But we have to do this. It has to be us."

The other girl shrugged helplessly. Tyler thought it was bit overdramatic. He was in great shape, he was smart, he was fast, and he was good in a fight. Sarah was also perfectly capable. He knew she was fast and she wasn't a quitter. They'd be fine. They would either find Benji before he got into trouble or extract him from whatever situation he managed to get himself into.

Besides, Tyler thought, Left Paw would be helping them. Tyler visited the hunter only once after learning he wasn't a figment of the imagination, and that time very briefly, but he was sure the solitary man would be on their side. Left Paw was accommodating during Tyler's visit, sharing his stew again and asking Tyler about his dreams. The hunter was curious and thoughtful. Tyler knew he lacked company and would do anything to break his tedium. Including help the Rose family find Benji.

Adam came in with three large packs and two rolled up bundles of slippery material. He gave one of the packs and a bundle to Tyler. "You've got two tents," he said indicating the rolled up lump. "They're pretty small, but I wouldn't sleep in the open out there. Between the three of you, I think we can manage enough gear for a week."

"We'll probably be back sooner than that if we can find Benji before any harm is done," Grandpa asserted.

"Well, let's hope you're here in time for the Fourth of July fireworks," Aunt Rachel said giving Grandpa's hand a squeeze. She was only half joking.

"It's not you three I'm worried about," Uncle Matt muttered. He began showing Tyler the best way to fill the pack with gear. "These are going to be heavy," he said, "but the short hike into Left Paw's woods should give you enough time to get used to them before the more strenuous stuff." It was obvious Uncle Matt still thought he should go along too.

Jessie was helping Sarah with her pack. Tyler and Grandpa ended up with the two tents. Tyler glanced at the cloudy sky through the kitchen window and hoped it wouldn't rain. He indulged in a little anger and annoyance at Benji's carelessness as he continued to organize his pack. Little brothers were supposed to pains, but this was ridiculous. What on earth had the kid been thinking?

Tyler looked over at Sarah. His sister was listening carefully to Jessie giving advice and quizzing Uncle Matt about the camping paraphernalia. She still looked determined, but pensive too. Tyler again wondered if she knew what Benji was up to. If she was sure, she'd have said something earlier, he thought. Her concern was real. She wouldn't hide something like that.

It took more than an hour to get everything ready. Grandpa's game plan was simple: the trio would hike to Left Paw's clearing and try to garner the hunter's help. Afterwards, with or without Left Paw, they would determine Benji's most likely destination and proceed. If July fourth passed without word, Aunt Rachel was to contact the council that oversaw the sanctuaries and they would send a team of qualified searchers.

Lunch consisted of a few peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and apples. The group ate quickly, but made sure to fill up before they set off. Tyler knew they would need the energy.

The group of people not going looked really worried. You'd think they could muster up brave faces at least, thought Tyler. He was glad when they lost sight of them and entered the woods behind the equipment shed.

Grandpa was taking the same route Tyler traveled and it was easy going. Tyler thought his pack might feel more burdensome as they trekked on, but for now it wasn't a problem. Sarah didn't seem to be having any difficulty either. They reached the clearing in good time, but Left Paw wasn't there.

"This is where Left Paw lives?" Sarah asked. She was looking at the fire pit and the brace of wood that served as a crude shelter. "Where is he?"

"Most likely, he's hunting," answered Grandpa. "He'll know we're here soon enough." Grandpa motioned for them to drop their packs and have a seat near the edge of the clearing.

Sarah looked at Tyler with concern wrinkling her forehead. "You sure he'll help?"

"I'm sure," Tyler responded. "He's a loner, but I think he's a good guy." Grandpa snorted. Tyler glared at the back of his white head. Why was it that adults always thought they knew better than you? The thought trailed off abruptly.

A huge red wolf appeared at the other side of the clearing. Tyler's mouth went dry. The wolf paced forward. It was headed right for them.

### *****

### Chapter 24: The Things in the Woods

### *****

Benji had the dream again that night. The one where he was chasing after his mom, but Mom turned into Sarah and Tyler was a wolf. He woke up only a few hours after falling asleep. The image of Sarah and the red wolf disappearing into darkness was branded in his mind. He hated the dream. It left him with the coppery taste of adrenaline in his mouth.

It was midnight. Benji had already packed hiking supplies and his map of Black Rock into a big black and red backpack. When he fell asleep, he was planning on leaving at first light. After being woken by the dream, though, he decided earlier was better. He couldn't sleep anyway.

He didn't try to be stealthy. Instead he was quick. He rummaged through the pantry until he found some granola bars and cereal to stuff into his backpack. Filling his canteen made him think to check for bottled water, too. He found some cases under the sink and added as many as he could carry to his supplies.

At first, he tried to leave through the maze. It was the safest way through the tree line he could think of. The statue wouldn't open the way for him though, no matter how many times he kicked it. Instead, he hurried around the garden and entered the woods on the outside of the maze.

Benji's path was carefully marked on his map. The route was long, but he figured he had good chance of reaching the farthest mountain of the Three Sisters before tomorrow evening. If he hurried. With this in mind, Benji's pace was as near to a jog as he could get without tiring himself too much. The terrain was relatively flat so far and he covered ground quickly. He passed a shimmering lake near dawn and stopped to rest.

Benji didn't get too close to the lake. Glowing water probably didn't signify anything good, but it was interesting. The gentle waves did much more than reflect light, they shined like they were made of light. Benji was grateful for its illumination in the early darkness of the morning, but he didn't need to get side tracked by his own curiosity. He had somewhere important to go.

After his short rest, he continued more slowly and followed the lake north. A few yards from where the lake turned west, Benji stopped in a clearing. The far side of the little meadow was lined with a grove of black trees.

On the map, the trees were labeled simply Black Forest. Benji took the time to look them up in his handbook. According to the book, the trees absorbed every speck of light for food. Like some sort of extreme photosynthesis. That's why they looked so dark even in the bright sunshine.

Benji figured dark trees were way better than risking an encounter with trolls or that wacky wizard that like turning people into frogs and swans. Those were his alternatives if he tried to skirt the forest. Before continuing though, he took a swig of water from his canteen and decided to eat something.

Benji was tired. His burst of adrenaline wore off hours ago. At first, he'd been extremely cautious. He wasn't sure what kind of animals lived beyond the tree line. But after seeing nothing more exciting than a marmot (which looked weird, but was actually a native beaver-like creature and not supernatural at all), he relaxed a little.

His plan was reckless, he thought munching on a granola bar, but Benji didn't care. Why else would he have been introduced to a world without boundaries, where anything was possible? He would go to Thana, the sister who saw death, as she seemed like the least dangerous of the three. He'd get her to bring his mother back. And when he came back with Mom in tow, his family would wonder why they hadn't thought of it first.

He wasn't sure how to get Thana to help him. Maybe since she saw death so much she would want to bring someone back to life. Or maybe he could do something for her. He didn't have anything of value with him. It wasn't like Grandpa left piles of gold around for bargaining with powerful Immortals. Then again, maybe he did. Benji hadn't actually checked. With his breakfast finished, Benji stuffed the trash in his pack and headed towards the black trees.

The closer Benji got, the odder the trees looked. They had dark gray trunks and pitch black leaves. He couldn't see anything at all past the first row of trees in the grove. As he approached, he stepped under the shade of an ashen branch and was startled when the light dimmed. It was like walking at night. He needed to go northeast through the trees to reach his destination. He pulled a flashlight out of the backpack and checked his compass before walking into the woods.

Benji was immediately surrounded by blackness. It was like someone blindfolded him. He couldn't even make out the tree trunks anymore. Benji flipped his flashlight on and it glowed brightly for a moment before fading slightly. The terrain was easier to make out in the dim illumination, so he kept his heading and proceeded forward.

His flashlight began to diminish severely and he shook it. He checked the batteries before leaving, Benji even had extra. The light should be fine. As soon as the thought left his head, the light went out. He couldn't see. Nothing. Darkness enclosed him once again.

Benji shook the light again, but it didn't change anything. There was still no responding beam of light to cut through the pitch. He felt chilled in the dark and suspected the trees didn't just absorb light, but warmth too.

That was it, Benji realized, looking down at the black space where he supposed his hand gripping the flashlight would be. He was so stupid. If the trees absorbed light, they would absorb his flashlight beam. He turned around. Crap. He couldn't see the way out of the forest.

Getting desperate, Benji turned the flashlight off and then on again. The beam flared suddenly, but after a few minutes went dark again. He could do this, Benji thought. But he needed to hurry. He wouldn't be able to change the flashlight battery in complete darkness and it was sure to run out eventually. Maybe even more quickly than normal thanks to the light sucking trees. He turned the light on again.

This time he started running when light briefly illuminated the forest. He kept pace at a steady jog, hopping over roots and trying to watch out for obstacles. The light vanished quickly, but as soon as it did, he stood still and turned the flashlight off. When he powered the light again, he repeated the process, running until it went dark. Repeating the stop/run sequence was tiring and the unnerving blackness was starting to creep him out. Did anything live in these trees? He hoped not.

Benji couldn't keep a handle on his bearings, and had to use a few bursts of light to check his compass. The third time he did this, he started to get worried. The initial flashes were getting dimmer. He didn't know how these trees worked, but they were draining the battery power along with the light. Benji had to keep going and get out of these woods fast.

He was out of breath and had a stitch in his side after who knew how long in the woods. They didn't look very big on the map. Benji couldn't even get the light on his wristwatch to work at all. Soon the flashlight would be useless, too. By this time, the flashlight could manage maybe two bursts of light before it gave out.

When the forest went dark again, Benji's breathing echoed unnaturally loud. He had to be at the far edge of the grove by now. He flipped the light on and ran. Nauseous and slightly dizzy, clutching the pain in his side, he ran as fast he was able.

And broke out into daylight, just before the flashlight went dark again. Benji collapsed forward and puked up his breakfast, heaving and trying to breath. He had to admit that was terrifying. Gasping on the ground, Benji looked back at the tall ashy trees. What would it have been like to get stuck in there? Stumbling around in the blackness? Benji shuddered. Maybe he'd risk the trolls on the way back.

When his breathing settled, Benji heaved himself to his feet and checked his map and compass again. The run through the dark forest caused him to veer a little to the west. That was why it had taken so long: he was running at angle instead of straight through. His watch told him he'd been running for over an hour. Ugh. He still felt sick.

Benji rinsed his mouth with water from his canteen. He didn't think he could stomach any food at the moment, so he walked on as soon as he felt able. The sun was getting high by now. Grandpa, Aunt Rachel and Uncle Matt were probably aware that he was missing. Hopefully, they wouldn't come after him until later in the day. If luck was with him, they wouldn't be able to figure out where he was going anyway. Benji didn't leave a note.

After another hour's walking, Benji spotted a flat rock on a grassy knoll ahead of him. Stopping to eat and get a significant rest sounded like a good idea. He was making good time, but his energy was waning after all that running. Heading for the big stone, Benji nearly tripped over a smaller one jutting out of the ground. He did a little hop before catching his balance, but when he turned forward he nearly fell again.

Hovering in front of his face was a tiny man with transparent veined wings like large sails. He was about six inches tall and dressed in ragged brown pants, but no shirt. His dragonfly-esque wings flapped in annoyance.

"Why do you trespass here, human?" the little man asked. He said 'human' the same way Sarah said cockroach; like it was disgusting.

"Uhh . . . ," Benji stuttered. It took him a minute to come up with a response. The little guy had his arms folded and was glaring pointedly at Benji. "I didn't mean to trespass," he said finally. "I'm just trying to get somewhere."

"Somewhere like here, eh?" a second voice asked from behind Benji. He jerked around to see at least twelve small people flying behind him. Some were women, some men, some old, some young, but they all looked vaguely threatening and very unhappy.

"No, no," Benji shook his head. He must've accidently walked into the Fairy Ring. He didn't think he was that far west, but apparently he was. The only fairies in the sanctuary were limited to the Fairy Ring, a ring of stones marking their territory. He meant to avoid it. Fairies, he learned, were not exactly nice beings. "I'm trying to get to a mountain a few miles from here. I didn't mean to trespass, honest!" Maybe they were just paranoid. He had to try to calm them down and talk his way out of this.

"I think he's lying," a girl fairy said from his side. She was very pretty, wearing a black and green dress and had colorful butterfly wings. She flitted up and down around him in agitation.

"I'm not lying," Benji protested. "I didn't even mean to step inside the ring. I—!" He was trying to explain, but the pretty fairy interrupted him.

"Huh, likely he's come to pry more treasure out of us," she said. "Isn't that what all humans want?" The question was met with hearty agreement.

"Could be innocent," an older, white whiskered fairy suggested.

"Of course he's not innocent!" exclaimed the girl fairy. "Being human is all we need to convict him! They're takers, imprisoning us and stealing what's rightfully ours!"

"I don't want anyone's property!" Benji yelled desperately. "I'm just passing through!"

"Not very likely that human who is not the Keeper would venture into the ring," the old fairy mused.

"A trial! A trial! We should convict him rightfully!" a tall broad fairy in a leather tunic was shouting. Many of the other winged people echoed him. Benji began to get the sense he was in serious trouble.

"You can't convict me if I've done nothing wrong," Benji tried to reason.

"Standing here is wrong enough," an unseen fairy shouted. Again, others agreed loudly. The crowd had grown. There were now more than fifty fairies surrounding him.

"There's no need for a trial," the pretty fairy called out. "He is guilty as sure as he's standing. We should strike now before he decimates us all!"

Before Benji could lodge another protest, the fairies were in an uproar. They all started shouting for a punishment, some even called out for his death. It was time get out of here. Fast. Benji spun around intending to run, but the fairies were swarming the edge of the ring. He couldn't go back the way he came. Making a quick decision, he charged in the opposite direction, running deeper into the ring. He hoped the other side wasn't very far.

Fairies clouded around him as he ran, like a plague of colorful locusts. He hit a few, crashing through the ones blocking his way. In retaliation the winged mob began to zoom in close. Their little fists pummeled his face and pulled his hair. He felt them tugging on his backpack and his clothes. Fairies might be small, but they were plenty strong.

The grass he was running over turned to rocky soil, then to a rough forest, but Benji had yet to cross over the stone ring. He tripped over a root, falling forward. His palms scraped the ground and he could hear and feel part of his backpack and t-shirt being torn away. Benji scrambled up quickly, batting fairies out of the way. At this point he didn't care if he hurt them, he just didn't want them to hurt him.

He kept running even though the exertion was beginning to make him feel weak and ill. A stitch throbbed in his side and Benji's throat was dry from his labored breathing. How long could he keep this up? The fairies already wrecked his clothes and probably his bag, too. He really didn't want to find out what they could do to him if he held still.

Benji jumped over a small brook and crested a stony ridge. Finally, he could see the line of curved stones in the ground. He pushed himself forward in a burst of speed and leapt over the boundary of the ring. He stopped abruptly and nearly fell over, hunching with his hands on his knees and trying to breathe.

From upside down, Benji saw the mob of fairies still raging at him from inside the boundary. Some of them were waving strips of his shirt and pants. One even had a handful of his hair. They buzzed insults at him like angry flies. When Benji felt more capable, he put as much distance between himself and the fairy ring as he could before collapsing against the trunk of a smooth, pale tree.

Holy cow!! Who knew fairies could be so brutal? He never meant to go through the ring in the first place. But after the trippy dash through the forest, he simply forgot to look for it. He forgot he was even supposed to be looking for it. That was dumb, he knew, but he'd have never taken fairies for bloodthirsty pirates.

Benji took stock of his attire and hefted his backpack around for a look. His clothes were ripped here and there, but nothing too bad. His pack was in the worst shape. All the front pockets were shredded or torn off completely. His compass and several granola bars were gone. He would have to ration what he had left if he wanted to make it to Thana's and back home. On the way back, he needed to account for Mom, too. He hoped she wouldn't mind eating light.

Cool water from his canteen soothed his throat. For the first time since sitting down, Benji became aware of his surroundings. The sun was past its highest point and shadows began to lengthen in the forest. Funny shapes for shadows, he thought, curiously examining the round, bulbous patches of dark. Like mushrooms, he thought. Benji gazed upwards in wonder. They were mushrooms.

The tree he was leaning against wasn't a tree at all. It was a huge mushroom, at least as tall as the manor. Smaller mushrooms were dispersed between a few fir trees and oaks. Tiny white and yellow mushrooms littered the forest floor. Benji was sitting at the base of the largest one in this vicinity, although he could see some just as big further north.

A check of the map revealed Benji was at the edge of a Giant Mushroom forest. Since he lost the compass, he relied on the position of the sun and known landmarks to guess his position. Using the binoculars, he scrutinized the skyline above the trees and giant fungi.

Two mountains rose in the distance. They were the first of the Three Sisters. The third must be hidden. That was the one he needed: Thana's mountain. If he followed the edge of the mushroom forest until he hit the base of the closest mountain, he could skirt the first two of the Three Sisters to reach the third.

Benji was closer than he previously thought, but he figured he deserved a chance to relax after all that running. Scratches and bruises were making themselves known on his face and hands. They ached and stung like bad paper cuts. His palms were dirty with blood and grit. Benji rinsed his injuries with bottled water as best he could, regretting his lack of a first aid kit.

When his breathing was back to normal, Benji stood up and stretched. He was so sore! His muscles were cramped from sitting. He tried to loosen them up a little before slinging on his backpack and heading towards the mountains. Benji limped along for a few paces, but soon felt stronger. Still, he kept his pace slow. He didn't think he needed to hurry as much anymore since he was so close.

At some point, the path to the mountains would veer west while the Giant Mushrooms continued north. Until then, Benji kept the mountains in his line of sight and hugged the outer edge of the mushroom forest. It was slow going, but after the exertion of the afternoon, Benji didn't mind.

The sun was sinking behind the first mountain when he turned west. The mushrooms were larger on this side of the forest. Some had to be at least five stories tall. There was no telling how wide the caps were. Benji couldn't even determine their colors anymore. He could only look up into the murky white and brown undersides.

The turning point was as good a place as any to make camp, Benji thought. The mushroom caps would keep the ground dry in case of rain and the ground here was soft with fungi. He was so tired he could sleep on a rock without a qualm, but Benji was grateful he wouldn't have to. He leaned against the trunk of a nearby mushroom and slid slowly to the ground. Could the mushrooms be eaten? Benji didn't want to risk it. Instead, he shoved the straps of his pack off of his shoulders, ready to take stock of his supplies.

There was a faint and strange noise coming from Benji's right. He stopped, his hand poised above the backpack zipper, to listen. It was a sort of nickering sound. Like something very large clicking a very large tongue against its teeth. It got closer and Benji scrutinized the dusky forest in front of him. The light was fading and he could only see white stalks and a few small trees.

Benji thought he saw movement further inside the mushrooms. He squinted, trying to see into the shadows. Benji's plans for making camp were temporarily forgotten. Did he know of something that lived in the mushrooms? He didn't think so. At least, he couldn't remember anything.

Benji relaxed despite the persistent clicking noise and was getting ready to open his backpack again when he saw the mouse. It wasn't just any mouse. It was huge. It was bigger than Uncle Matt's F150. Heck, it was nearly as big as a school bus. Ears like satellite dishes were flicking this way and that, listening intently. It's light, murky colored fur helped it blend in with the mushroom stalks, which is why Benji hadn't seen it at first.

Benji watched the hulking creature in fascination. It actually looked pretty terrifying with its long, sharp clawed feet and big black eyes. Currently, it was clawing out underside portions of a mushroom cap and eating them like cheese. There was something he should remember, Benji thought. It was something about a giant mouse. The memory eluded him as he watched the mouse from a distance. It probably wasn't important. Since the mouse was obviously a vegetarian, Benji didn't think he had anything to worry about. On the other hand, maybe he should look for a different place to camp.

When Benji stood, thinking it was good time to leave, the mouse abruptly pointed its snout in Benji's direction. Its front teeth stuck out over its thin lips. They looked long and sharp and glistened yellow in the twilight. Benji couldn't move. He suddenly remembered what he knew about giant mice. The mouse in front of him raised up on its hind legs and hissed at him. Did it think Benji was a threat? It's mouth opened wide, screeching emitting from deep in its throat. Then, to Benji's abject horror, the thing belched a great plume of fire. The heat reached his face, and Benji, abruptly released from his frozen state, turned and ran.

Giant mice, Acridian Mice, ate mushrooms. And breathed fire. For the third time that day, Benji hoped he was fast enough and went racing through the forest.

### *****

### Chapter 25: Big Bad Wolf

### *****

Sarah yelped and crab-walked backwards in fright. Tyler jumped to his feet, backing away slowly. The thing had to be three times the size of any normal wolf. Its eyes glowed darkly green, glinting in the sunlight as it approached.

Grandpa didn't move. He sat with his pack beside him on a rock. His wizened face was regarding the animal curiously, but, he didn't look the least bit afraid. He addressed Tyler and Sarah briefly, telling them to be still and wait.

"What is your purpose in my forest, Keeper?" Tyler blinked. The rough voice came from the wolf.

"We have come to seek your aid, Left Paw," Grandpa said formally. "If you will give it."

"Wait—What?" Tyler couldn't think straight. Neither his grandfather nor the wolf acknowledged him.

"What it your need?" the red wolf asked Grandpa.

"One of my grandchildren is missing," Grandpa replied gravely. "We believe he ventured into the sanctuary of his own will, but we do not know where he is going or what he intends."

"I am to seek this child?" Grandpa nodded at the wolf's question. The beast was quiet for a moment, considering. His gaze traveled from Grandpa to Tyler and then to Sarah. "I will do as you ask," he said, turning his attention back to Grandpa, "but I require something in return."

The old man was tense and wary. His voice was deep and disapproving when he asked, "What is your request?"

Left Paw answered immediately. "Lift the boundary on this forest permanently." The wolf looked keenly at Grandpa. "You will have to do so if you want me to find the child at any rate. I only ask that you do not reinstate it."

Grandpa's jaw was tight. Through gritted teeth he said, "You will still be bound by the laws of this sanctuary. That is not negotiable." Reluctantly he added, "But I can give you the privilege to wander within sanctuary boundaries."

"That is sufficient," the wolf conceded. The red furred jaws moved imperceptibly, but the voice was clear.

Grandpa nodded curtly. The wolf sat down opposite Tyler. It stared steadily at him, but did not speak again. Grandpa turned back to Tyler and Sarah.

"This arrangement will do," he said gruffly. The old man was clearly unhappy about it, though. He addressed Tyler sharply. "I'm not surprised your 'friend' never explained the extent of his curse to you. You'd do well to remember this lesson." Tyler glared at his grandfather. Now was not the time to be patronizing. "I have to lift the boundary before Left Paw can help us," Grandpa continued. He produced two jelly jars full of purple liquid from his pack. "It should only take a moment. You will be safe here, so stay put." His last remark was directed to both teenagers.

Sarah looked as if she wanted to object, but she didn't and Grandpa headed into the forest. She glanced at Tyler and then they both looked to the wolf. It was sitting perfectly still, but kept its eyes on them.

"You came out here in the middle of the night to see a wolf?" Sarah murmured her question.

Tyler shook his head. "No," he said slowly. "The Left Paw I met was a man."

Sarah watched him thoughtfully. "Did this man have a black left hand?" she gestured toward the motionless wolf.

At first, Tyler didn't see why she'd asked such a question. Then he noticed that the wolf was deep russet everywhere except its left front paw. That was black. "His left hand and arm were always bound up, like he had an injury or deformity," Tyler admitted slowly. He did not want to believe the hunter and the wolf were the same, it was too strange. Sarah raised her eyebrows at him. Tyler realized he was shaking his head in denial.

"So you're the hunter," He called across the clearing to the wolf, "the man called Left Paw I've seen?" Sarah appeared startled when he actually spoke to the wolf. How else did she think they would get answers?

"Yes," the wolf said in his gravelly voice. He did not explain. Forest sounds filled the silence drawing out between them. "This is your sister?" Left Paw asked abruptly.

Tyler nodded but decided not to answer. Two could play the silent game, he thought resentfully. Unfortunately, his sister didn't get the memo and replied in his stead.

"I'm Sarah," she said. The beast inclined his body toward the ground in a wolfish version of a bow. "It's our little brother we want you to find. His name is Benjamin, Benji," she clarified. The wolf didn't reply. Sarah glanced at Tyler questioningly and he shrugged. Left Paw wasn't exactly talkative as a human. Apparently being a wolf made him less so.

How could Left Paw have left this part out? Somehow, the wolf before him (Tyler felt he understood the guy's name a little better) was the hunter he visited at night. Wolf by day, man by night? Like a reverse werewolf. But why hadn't Left Paw ever said anything? Tyler didn't like being made a fool of in front of Grandpa. Especially since he was the one who insisted they get Left Paw's help in the first place.

When Grandpa came back through the trees, Tyler was brooding at the ground, lost in thought. "Your confines are lifted," Grandpa said to the wolf. "Our plan is to determine where my grandson is going and cut him off before he gets there," he explained. "Haste is necessary, so I will ask that you scout around the tree line guarding the farm to determine where he has been, and report back here before we go anywhere. I'd like to avoid backtracking, it will waste time."

"This is sound," Left Paw agreed. "Do you have—," he cut off abruptly when Grandpa produced a scrap of dull, white cloth from his pocket. It was a sock. Benji's sock, Tyler guessed. The huge wolf came close and sniffed the scrap of fabric before bounding away into the woods without a word. Grandpa put the sock back in his pocket.

"Can he really find Benji just by sniffing a sock?" Sarah asked incredulously.

"Left Paw's curse makes him a wolf in daylight," Grandpa answered, "but he's no ordinary wolf." The old man frowned at Tyler as he spoke. "He is bigger than a normal wolf, as you've seen," he explained. "His senses are keener and, obviously, he can speak. For many years his human mind was buried in his wolf form. It has taken a long time to cultivate control over his instincts."

"That's why you said he's so dangerous?" Sarah prodded. "Because he can't control himself?"

"Not only that," Grandpa said. "Left Paw was once a human man," he told them. "He was greedy and bloodthirsty, a barbarian. He deliberately hunted and killed an animal worshiped by his people with the intent of proving himself a god."

The old man stopped, fixing Tyler with a probing stare. Tyler refused to take the bait. Grandpa was fishing. He wanted to know just how much Left Paw had told him. Tyler kept quiet and the pause lengthened uncomfortably.

"What did he kill?" Sarah finally asked, impatient.

"A golden deer," Grandpa answered shortly. "A hind, a female, and the last of her kind. They were sentient creatures that lived centuries ago. In some accounts they even had the ability to see the future. This particular one was protected by a powerful Immortal."

"So he killed it and the Immortal cursed him?" Sarah postulated.

Grandpa nodded. "The death of the hind was one of many similar instances that led to the split between humans and magic," Grandpa added.

"Why a wolf?" Sarah wondered curiously.

"Left Paw's curse matches his human actions. Since he was an animalistic and cruel human, he was turned into a vicious animal with no thought but survival in the daylight and a man who could reflect on his barbarity at night. The punishment was designed to teach him the error of his ways."

"And you don't think he's learned that?" Tyler couldn't help but ask.

"No," Grandpa said firmly, "I don't."

The conversation dropped off. Tyler began picking at the dirt with a stick. How long would it take Left Paw to find a trace of Benji? What if Benji already reached his destination? Was he in trouble?

Tyler contemplated the ground and thought over Grandpa's story. Grandpa made it sound like Left Paw was a mass murderer. Unfortunately, it wasn't hard to picture the rough and silent hunter as a psychopathic barbarian. Tyler began to have doubts about seeking Left Paw's help. Worry etched lines in his face.

Tyler vouched for Left Paw. The hunter had never hurt Tyler. He was an intense guy, but never did any harm to Tyler, just rabbits. However, if Grandpa was right, and Left Paw was actually a violent criminal, where did that leave the three of them? Where did that leave Benji? Tyler shoved his doubts to the back of his mind. Even Grandpa admitted Left Paw was their best chance at getting to Benji before Benji got into serious trouble.

The red wolf raced back into the clearing in an eerily silent flurry of fur. It startled Sarah into jumping again and she watched Left Paw warily. Tyler regarded him with more reserve and caution, too. Grandpa said it didn't have a fully human mind when it was a wolf. He was a wolf, Tyler corrected mentally. Tyler was still having a hard time reconciling the man with the giant beast.

"Your grandson went north," Left Paw growled without preamble. "He followed the curve of the enchanted lake and entered the dark forest. Beyond, he traveled westward."

Grandpa took out a map and plotted the route Left Paw described. "Did he come out of the forest?" Grandpa asked.

"Since time is short, I did not follow his trail directly," Left Paw reported, "but his scent travels through the stone ring."

Grandpa folded the map flat on the ground so Sarah and Tyler could see. He marked Benji's trail with a thick blue marker. "Where could he be going?" The old man shook rubbed his chin, deep in thought.

Tyler scoured the map. If Benji was going to see the dragons his path would be further east. His trek took him near Horaque's cave, but Tyler could think of no reason his little brother needed a wizard who'd likely turn him into toad before Benji could get a word out. "Maybe the Djinn," Tyler suggested. Benji would have to continue west, cross a river, and then cut south to get to the Djinn's island. The path fit, so far, but Tyler had to admit he was stumped. Why was Benji running around the sanctuary in the first place?

When Tyler looked up, Sarah was shaking her head. "What is it?" he asked her. "Where do you think he's gone?"

"Don't you see?" she whispered. Her voice broke, unnerving Tyler. No, he didn't see. "Yesterday was Benji's birthday," she continued her brown eyes teary with emotion.

"Yeah," Tyler affirmed, "so?" He wasn't sure what she was getting at.

"His first birthday without Mom," she said.

"So," Tyler said, still thinking of the Djinn, "He could be going to the Djinn, get him to give Marvin some magic, and wish Mom back?" Sarah shook her head again, rubbing the tears from her eyes with her knuckles.

"I don't think so, either," Grandpa said. "Marvin would have told Benji genies can't bring dead people back. They can only restore bodies not souls." He looked thoughtful then his eyes widened in sudden horror. "No!" he whispered vehemently, shaking his head roughly.

"What?" Tyler demanded. He felt out of the loop. "Will somebody please explain?" Tyler looked at them both in exasperation.

"Yesterday, Benji would have only wanted one thing for his birthday," Sarah explained softly. "Mom." She pinned Tyler with her sad gaze. "It's what I wanted last year, when I woke up and remembered she was gone. You probably had the same thought on your birthday," She added. Tyler nodded.

"I'm still not sure I follow," he said, urging her to continue.

"Yesterday, Grandpa taught us about Immortals, eight of which live here, in this sanctuary. But Grandpa didn't explain everything and he only told us about three living in the sanctuary. The one type he didn't go into detail about was—."

"Necromancers," Grandpa cut Sarah off.

"Necromancers?" Tyler questioned. "Like sorcerers who raise the dead and create zombie armies and stuff?"

"Close enough," Grandpa wearily replied.

"And there's at least one living in this sanctuary, isn't there?" Sarah prodded.

Nodding, Grandpa explained, "There are three." His voice became sturdier as he spoke. "Three sisters too powerful for their own good who gave each other terrible curses. They went mad and were incarcerated here long before I was born."

"You think he's gone to one of them to bring Mom back?" Tyler asked.

"Yes," Grandpa answered. "The timing fits. And, yesterday after lunch, I misplaced the book I was teaching from. It had plenty of information about Immortals and included the sisters' story."

"You think Benji took the book?" Sarah questioned their grandfather intently. The old man nodded at her.

"Will that work?" Tyler wondered. "Could a Necromancer actually bring our mother back?" He met Sarah's eyes solemnly, but Grandpa was already shaking his head.

"If your mother was resurrected by a Necromancer," Grandpa told them, "she would be nothing more than a prisoner, a slave. These Necromancers aren't even sane," he added. "Whatever they did, you can be sure the outcome isn't going to be good."

Sarah went back to examining the map with hurried movements. "If he's going to one of the Necromancers, we need to know where they are, Grandpa," she addressed the old man, gesturing to the map.

"Right," Grandpa nodded. "The sisters live separately, on these three mountains." He pointed to a trio of peaks. "They're each confined to their own mountain. "If I were him, I'd go to that one," he said, circling the air above the last mountain. "Thana resides there. He wouldn't have a chance with either of the other two. One is mute and the other is extremely dangerous."

"You're sure this is what he's up to?" Tyler asked.

"It would have seemed like too many coincidences," Sarah said. "Us coming here, learning about magic, and then to suddenly be told that there was actually something out there with the ability to bring Mom back? It was irresistible."

"Why didn't he come this way?" Tyler traced out a trail much quicker and more direct than the one Benji was following.

"The trolls are here," Grandpa pointed at the river due west of their current position. "Their boundary encompasses both sides of the river and they don't take kindly trespassers." He air-circled another location on the map. "Horaque is here, at the top of the enchanted lake. If he went as you suggest, Benji would travel very close to both those obstacles. He probably figured it was less dangerous to go around them."

"He may be irresponsible," Tyler agreed, "but he isn't stupid."

"If he can make it through the Giant Mushrooms without meeting any mice," Sarah said gesturing to another point on the map, "he'll probably have it right. The way is clear once you start traveling along the base of the mountains."

"Mice?" Tyler asked in confusion. "Why would he need to avoid mice?"

His sister gave him withering look. "Acridian Mice?" she said. "Giant mice? They breathe fire? Any of this ring a bell?" Tyler shrugged. Giant fire breathing mice sounded ridiculous.

"The other two sisters might wander into his path, too," Grandpa interrupted them. "That could be trouble." Their grandfather was pensively tracing various routes to Thana's mountain and muttering under his breath.

Sarah suddenly addressed Left Paw who was standing still as a statue a few feet away without adding to their conversation. "Am I correct in thinking that you can locate Benji by just sniffing the air?" she asked. "At least give us a general location?"

"That is true," the wolf told her.

She put a hand on Grandpa's shoulder. "Tyler's right," she traced a path on the map. "This is the fastest and most direct route. As long as we can confirm Benji hasn't stopped moving northwest, I think we can assume he's trying to find Thana."

"If we take this course," Tyler added, "we might actually have a chance of intercepting him or at least stop him before he does something he'll regret."

"It's too dangerous," Grandpa protested.

Sarah glared at him. "Are we out here to save Benji or not?" Tyler had never seen his sister rebuke an authority figure before. Actually, he'd never seen her rebuke anyone before. If the situation was less dire, he might be amused.

"It was your plan to try cutting him off in the first place, Grandpa." Tyler sided with his sister. "This is the only way we could do it. Benji's covered a lot of ground, we can't waste any more time or we'll never catch up."

Grandpa reluctantly agreed. It was decided Left Paw would scout ahead for trolls and those would be avoided at all costs. Grandpa's status as Keeper might protect him, but it didn't protect Tyler or Sarah. Trolls were apparently prone to unprovoked violence. Grandpa could probably secure them safe passage if they ran into Horaque, so that wasn't as much of a problem.

Before leaving camp, Left Paw approached Grandpa with a small leather bundle. The old man disapprovingly tied the ill formed ball to Tyler's pack as the wolf asked before going over the map once again. Grandpa reiterated their plan, his impatience and agitation clearly evident. Tyler was grateful when they finally set off. Grandpa set a brisk pace and Tyler and Sarah followed him closely.

They had to stop and change course a few times, but managed to avoid any trolls. Left Paw warned them if the group came close and directed them a different way or bade them hide briefly until the coast was clear. When they passed behind Horaque's cave, the wolf suggested they walk softly to avoid the Immortal. Grandpa agreed and they slunk quickly around a tumbled carapace of rock, ducking behind the sparse shrubbery. Tyler could hear the Wizard laughing and talking maniacally, but the screwy Wizard never approached them. Again, they proceeded swiftly and safely.

Tyler's pack became heavier the longer they hiked. It started to feel like he was carrying around rocks strapped to his back, but he didn't ask for a break. Grandpa wasn't taking any breaks, even though he was looking exhausted. Sarah was the only one who didn't seem bothered by the pace or her burdens. Of course, she had the lightest pack. Tyler mentally defended his stamina, hiking the pack higher on his shoulders to redistribute its weight.

The sun was low when they found a good camping site near the river. Grandpa dropped his pack in the clear, pebbled space and Tyler gratefully did the same, stretching his aching muscles. They set about erecting the two tents, which Tyler thought were barely large enough for one person, let alone two. Meanwhile, Sarah collected stones and set them in a circle. She gathered leaves, wood, and sticks, starting up a fire just as the sun disappeared. When daylight abated, camp was set and Tyler collapsed in a heap near the blaze, leaning on his pack.

While his attention was elsewhere, Left Paw apparently took off into the woods with his bundle. In the darkness of the evening, the hunter came into view through the trees heading for camp. Once again, Sarah was startled into a jump when Left Paw showed himself. Tyler couldn't really blame her. The man's leather garb and rough appearance were no less intimidating than the wolf was.

### *****

### Chapter 26: Dying of the Light

### *****

Benji felt heat bloom behind him. It was so close his backpack might catch fire any second, but Benji didn't stop to check. He kept running. Behind him, the giant mouse sounded more like a charging rhino than any mouse Benji ever heard. It was hissing and screeching, heat billowing out of its mouth and brushing Benji with tendrils of flame. Benji prayed he wouldn't trip. He prayed he could keep running long enough to evade the mouse.

The ground rumbled beneath his feet, each pounding stride of the Acridian Mouse making it shake like an earthquake. Benji's gait was unstable as he struggled to keep his balance. He was still having trouble digesting the fact that a huge fire breathing rodent was chasing him. First creepy light sucking trees, then bloodthirsty fairies and now mice with flaming breath. This day was turning out to be more adventurous than he bargained for.

Once again, Benji's breathing became ragged. He leapt a fallen log, nearly tumbling head over heels when he landed. His legs threatened to give out, but the mouse was still thundering behind him. He heard the bleaching sound preceding the flames and heat singed the air in his wake. Suddenly, his back lit up with burning pain and Benji realized his backpack had caught on fire. Crap! He couldn't stop running or he'd end up mouse chow. Benji had to douse the fire without stopping.

The uneven terrain turned into a boon when Benji crested a deep gully with a sloping edge. Without thinking too much, he flung himself into the ravine and rolled down the embankment with his arms tucked close. The mouse shrieked in frustration behind him. It sounded way too close. Benji felt the heat dissipating as he spun. When his body slowed, he scrambled back up and continued his race away from the rodent.

The mushrooms thinned out, replaced by shrubs and fir trees and Benji realized the screeching call of the mouse sounded distant. It was still screaming and pounding the ground, but he didn't think it was right behind him anymore. In a sudden burst of insight, Benji knew why. The mouse was probably bound to a restricted area like the fairies were. It couldn't leave the forest of mushrooms! Benji slowed and listened. The shrieks were far-off, even further than before.

Benji hoped he was right because he didn't think he could run much more. At the very least, it seemed the ugly brute had given up the chase. If the thing ate mushrooms, Benji wondered vaguely, why was it chasing a boy? Maybe Benji looked like a walking mushroom. Maybe it just didn't like humans. Was there such a thing as a friendly Acridian Mouse? Hazily, Benji recognized the incoherence of his thoughts. He dimly understood he was collapsed face forward in the dirt. When did that happen? Benji passed out before he could answer his own question.

When he came to, leaves and pebbles stuck to Benji's face. He rubbed them off and rolled over. The moon was up, shining weakly in the cloudy night sky. Benji's head felt muddy. How had he gotten here? Where was he? Clarity achingly burst through his mental fog and memories of the Acridian Mouse had him sitting up and swiftly scanning his surroundings. Too swiftly.

Benji's head swam. His queasy stomach threatened to rebel. He leaned forward, breathing deeply until the nausea passed. Benji lifted his head slowly and listened intently. He didn't see any mice the size of a Greyhound bus. He didn't hear any either. He tried to stand, but was unsteady on his feet, so he sat down again.

Benji looked around, trying to get his bearings. The Three Sisters rose up behind him. He could see all three of the mountains from his current vantage point, although the darkness made their silhouettes vague and shadowy. He didn't know which direction he ran, so Benji wasn't sure what angle he was seeing the mountains from.

Deciding to figure that out later, Benji checked himself for new injuries. A few more scratches and bruises were added to his growing collection. None of his bones felt broken, though his muscles were screaming at him and his side ached. It felt like he was tumbled in the back of cement truck. With rocks. Indistinctly, Benji recalled throwing himself down a ravine. Why'd he do that? His backpack!

Benji tore the pack from his shoulders to assess the damage. It wasn't as bad as he feared and Benji relaxed again, checking it over. Most of the front pockets were torn off by fairies, so it was the straggling scraps they left behind that caught on fire. A plastic zipper on one side was melted together, but the contents were relatively unscathed. Benji was grateful he hadn't lost any more food.

When Benji finally felt like he could stand, he scouted the area, looking for someplace that might provide shelter. Most of his immediate surroundings were covered with packed dirt and rough tree roots. It was not an ideal place to make camp. Benji headed closer to the nearest mountain, hoping for a cave or something. Instead, he came across a thin, bubbling stream. He followed it until he left the trees and entered a muddy clearing.

The origin of the brook was a small grotto with chilly water trickling over smooth stones. It spouted from a cascade of rocks that turned out to be one side of a steep, rocky hill. The high ground provided him with a good place to orient himself and he could clean up in the chilly spring. His legs wouldn't carry him much farther anyway, so Benji figured this was as good a place as any to sleep. He found a flat rock and sat down in relief. The gurgling sound of water echoed in the clearing.

After having a quick meal of granola and cereal, Benji washed himself up in the stream. The cold stung against his cuts and scrapes, but he tried to be thorough in his ministrations. Gangrene never sounded like a favorable condition and Benji didn't want any of his injuries to get infected. While rubbing the back of his neck, Benji discovered that some of his hair was singed and the skin was raw and burned. He was worn to the bone, exhausted and hurting. He was sore and sleepy and more scared than he wanted to admit. Who knew giant mice could be so frightening? Or fairies for that matter? Why was it dragons turned out to be wimps, but some stupid light sucking tree was actually terrifying? The world was twisted.

He unenthusiastically considered gathering some wood for a fire, but he forgot to grab matches back at the manor and wasn't sure how to start one without them. He dragged his feet back to the flat stone and spotted a few berry bushes on the opposite side of the stream. They looked appetizing and Benji was still hungry, but he didn't bother picking any. Who knew what they might do to him? After today, a bad case of diarrhea was probably the least horrible thing those berries could do. He pointedly avoided them and stayed on his side of the brook.

Sitting on the cool stone, Benji contemplated his options. He needed to wake up early in the morning and get going as soon as possible. All this running most likely put him off course and he couldn't afford to waste too much time. Benji didn't want anyone catching up with him. His Aunt and Uncle wouldn't understand and he was sure they would try to prevent him from getting to Thana no matter how much he protested. He was a smart kid, but Grandpa and the others would never listen to him. He'd probably just end up in trouble.

Benji changed the batteries in his flashlight and used it to rummage in the backpack until he found the few books he brought with him. He was glad to find them undamaged. The smallest book was the map key. The two larger ones were his handbook and the untitled book of Immortals.

Benji checked his information in the artificial brightness of the flashlight. The nearest mountain was the home of the one with supersonic hearing, Ceice. She didn't speak and wasn't likely to be helpful. The second mountain housed Vidan. She was the Immortal who drained life. According to the book, just touching her might kill him. That wasn't a risk he was willing to take. He would avoid both of them. On the map, they each had a boundary line that curved around the bottom of their respective mountains, which meant even hiking along the base was a dangerous proposition.

The third sister, Thana, was the one Benji needed to get to. She had visions of the dying and was supposed to be as crazy as the other two, but she could talk and she didn't have a curse that could kill him. Thana was his best hope. He knew he was probably going to have to give her something if he wanted to get Mom back. That was the sketchiest part of his plan, as he had no idea what an Immortal would want in return for bringing someone back from death.

Benji assumed he would be asked to do something in return; a favor for a favor. Maybe the Necromancer needed him to perform some task, like go on a quest for something valuable. Find a magic sword; isn't that what they always wanted in fairytales: magic swords or love potions? He hoped she didn't ask him to do anything like kill her sisters. He was brave, but he didn't think he was that brave and he was pretty sure there was absolutely no way to kill an Immortal. That's why they were called Immortals, they lived forever.

Benji didn't really care what the woman asked of him, though. He'd find a way to pay her and get his mom back. It was what he had to do. Part of him felt like he was meant to do it. Like it was his destiny or something. Grandpa kept cautioning him not get any ideas about being a hero, but that was because Grandpa was scared. Everyone at the manor was so scared of the fantastic, of magic. They would rather be safe and secure than risk their necks to do something important. Benji wasn't scared. Sure, he had a few close calls today, but the way he figured it, he could be hit by a bus or eaten by a fire breathing mouse. Either way, he'd be just as dead. And the mouse thing would at least sound interesting in his obituary. The bottom line was this: Benji wasn't going to sit around and do nothing when a little courage could change everything.

He closed his books and put them away. He searched for a level spot to lie down on and found a relatively soft patch of moss and dirt. Settling in, Benji spread out the two blankets he brought and used his backpack for a pillow. It made a hard lumpy pillow, but Benji reasoned it was better than sleeping on a rock. It wasn't the most comfortable spot in the world. It would have to do, though. Benji tried to set the alarm on his watch, but he never read the instructions and gave up after a minute or two. The sun would wake him in the morning anyway. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind and relax despite his surroundings.

The night sounded vaguely foreign. Benji wasn't used to whatever lived in Colorado. He wasn't used to the chill that still clung to everything even in the middle of summer. The humid heat of the Gulf coast was better than the cold up here. He'd even take the mosquitoes back if he could. Maybe with Mom back they would all go home. He liked the farm and the sanctuary was cool and everything, but life would be infinitely better if it would all go back to the way it was before. Well, perhaps without Dad.

Benji wondered if his father called today. It would serve him right if he finally telephoned only to find Benji wasn't there to answer. Benji knew his mother would be furious with Dad once she found out what happened in the last year. Dad ignoring them. Dad leaving them. Dad forgetting about them. Mom wasn't going to like the situation she came back to. But the important thing, Benji thought, was that she was coming back.

In spite of his exhaustion, Benji couldn't sleep. There were faint sounds of snuffling as well as insects calling to each other in the darkness. He couldn't remember reading about any magical poisonous insects, but at this point he wasn't taking anything for granted. He jumped when he heard frogs croaking close by. They must live near the spring, since they sounded so near. Benji hoped he wouldn't wake up with one on his face or something equally gross. With that thought comforting him, he finally fell into a fitful rest.

### *****

Benji did not wake up with a frog on his face. It was a beetle. He felt the legs tickling his cheek and swatted the sensation away. When he looked down, he saw a large, shiny, brown beetle scurrying away. At least it wasn't a frog, Benji thought. He shuddered anyway.

His body ached. Benji had never slept on the ground before. His uncomfortable bed combined with the exhausted muscles of yesterday made him stiff and sore. He stretched awkwardly and listened with cringing ears to the sounds of bones and joints cracking. His legs felt weak when he stood. Benji discovered his shoulders and neck muscles were stuck in a painfully tight position. He spent at least fifteen minutes slowly relaxing them in tiny increments before he felt ready to move around normally.

He could only guess at the time, the day was cloudy and slate gray. His watch informed him that it was a quarter after nine. That couldn't be right, could it? Benji planned on being woken by the sunrise, but the overcast sky had prevented it. He felt a few drops of rain on his face and realized it was drizzling sporadically. He hoped it didn't storm, but maybe rain could be an advantage. If Grandpa or anyone else were trying to follow him the rain might make it harder, maybe wash away his tracks.

Benji's stomach growled. He was famished and his mouth was dry from thirst. He drank a bottle of water after finding his canteen was empty. He was still thirsty, but decided it was better to preserve the supplies he had. He filled the canteen with water from the stream. It could serve as a last resort if Benji ran out of water bottles. He only had four left, so it was likely the spring water would come in handy. He only hoped it was free of magical properties.

Breakfast was quick. He had grabbed a box of cheerios from the house before he left the night before. The box was mangled from being abused in his backpack, but the plastic wasn't ripped open. He ate a few dry handfuls, saving up the rest along with his last few granola bars. If he didn't make it to the third mountain today he was going to be seriously low on supplies. Benji cleaned his hands and splashed cold water on his face at the grotto. Feeling more awake, he cleaned up his camp site and put the blankets away. He took out his map and tried to determine his position. Unfortunately, Benji still couldn't recall exactly what direction he was running when the mouse was chasing him. Logically, he thought he had gone somewhat southwest of the Giant Mushroom Forest. He still needed to figure out where to go from here, though.

The hidden sun wasn't much help in determining his direction. He could still see the three mountains behind the trees, but they were hazy in the cloud cover. Benji unearthed his binoculars to get a better look. Unless he'd gotten seriously turned around yesterday (which was a slight possibility considering his panicked runs), the farthest mountain was still his destination. He was practically at the base of the first mountain, which was closer than he assumed it was last night.

From his current perspective, the third mountain didn't look that far. The Three Sisters weren't very large to begin with and were really close together. If he was lucky and quick, he could find Thana before the sun set today. Oversleeping hadn't been part of the plan. Benji needed to hurry, but he was sure it wouldn't take too long to get to the third mountain and find the sister who lived there. He only hoped he didn't run into any more trouble along the way.

### *****

### Chapter 27: Firelight Confessions

### *****

It took Sarah a moment to catch her breath. The man's appearance was unexpected to say the least, though it shouldn't have been. Hadn't they gone over Left Paw's curse more than once? Wolf by day, man by night. It seemed counter intuitive at first, to be transformed into a wolf during daylight instead of at night. However, after giving it some thought during their arduous hike, it now seemed clever and cruel.

A wolf, especially a huge red one, was easy to spot in the daytime. It couldn't hide its nature and would quickly be hunted down. The same went for a man at night. Men, even clothed in black, were not naturally stealthy creatures. Left Paw's curse made him a hunted beast, an easy target, no matter what form he took. Sarah slowly began to feel sorry for the creature.

She was not sorry at the moment, though. The man illuminated by firelight was not a person that garnered pity. He didn't appear very old, maybe twenty or so, but Sarah knew that in the past, boys became men at much younger ages than they did now. He was dressed in leathers and his left hand and arm were bound up in a rudimentary sling. His face was thin with prominent cheekbones framed by long, tangled hair a deep russet color that matched his wolf fur. His features were vaguely Slavic, with eyes that tilted slightly at the corners. He looked, Sarah thought, very dangerous.

Left Paw drew near the fire and sat down on the other side without speaking. Sarah kept imagining he was looking at her and the sensation was unnerving. She was already sick with worry and fear. She really didn't need the attention of a possibly psychotic hunter to add to her problems. When Grandpa came and sat down beside her, Sarah relaxed, grateful for the distraction.

"Can you tell if my grandson has stopped for the night?" he asked Left Paw.

"His scent has not traveled any closer to the mountains for some time," Left Paw replied. The formal speech between Grandpa and the hunter was beginning to annoy her. It made the atmosphere between even more tense.

Grandpa gave the man a reserved nod before directing his attention to Sarah. He handed her a bag of dried fruit. "It's not home cooking," he said, giving her some granola bars as well, "but it will do. I suggest we eat and then try to get some sleep."

Tyler joined them. "We should get up early," he suggested. He was notably ignoring Left Paw completely. It was childish to Sarah, especially considering their predicament. They needed Left Paw. Her grandfather and brother might at least pretend to trust him.

Grandpa nodded. "I've set the alarm on my watch, but I imagine the Left Paw will wake us with the dawn." Grandpa didn't look at the hunter for confirmation, already assuming he heard and would comply. Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah saw Left Paw nod anyway.

Sarah finished a bottle of water before munching on the granola and fruit. There was little discussion and the sounds of chewing filled the silence. She had a feeling the lack of talking was something to do with the imposing figure on the other side of the fire. Tyler kept glancing at Left Paw warily. He was tense and made sure to sit next to Sarah so that she was flanked by him and Grandpa. She might have thought it was sweet, the two of them being so protective, if it wasn't so annoying. Sarah doubted Left Paw would jeopardize his newly acquired privileges by attacking any of them.

The tension was getting to her. Part of her wanted to reprimand all three of them for acting so juvenile. Maybe they should just have a good old fashioned brawl so they could all be friends. It seemed like the kind of thing guys would do. Regardless, she felt the active mistrust and vigilance was a waste of energy. Out of mental self-preservation more than actual tiredness, Sarah washed up in the river after eating and crawled into her tent. Not long afterwards, she heard Grandpa and Tyler do the same.

She might have dosed, but not long after lying down, Sarah was awake again. She could hear someone moving about the campsite. It was probably Left Paw. Did she care? The man was a frightening figure and, if what Grandpa told them was even partially true, he was not a man to be taken lightly. However, Sarah wasn't sleeping and the small confines of her tent were bringing on a sense of claustrophobia. She unraveled herself from the light sleeping bag and crawled out of the tent.

Left Paw was sitting by the fire adding wood to it. He didn't look up at her commotion, but she felt sure he knew she was there. She walked to the fire and sat down about a yard away from him. For a while, she just stared into the flames. She thought about Benji and hoped he was safe. She hoped he wasn't scared or lonely or hurt. She knew Benji's quest was stupid and reckless, but she envied his hope. He wanted things to be the way they were before Mom died. He wanted his old life back. Hadn't she wanted that, too? Still did sometimes.

She felt eyes on her and looked up to find Left Paw staring at her. Both the fear it caused and the rudeness of it brought out her earlier annoyance. "So you have been staring at me," she accused softly. He didn't say anything, but he didn't look away either. "I suppose I should get used to it," she said wearily. "A mære, a former leprechaun, and the centaurs find me irresistible, so why shouldn't you?" She swept her hair out of her face. It had long since fallen out of the short ponytail she tried to cram it in. The tangled blond mess felt greasy and she suddenly wished she had a hairbrush.

"Others have seen you?" Left Paw suddenly asked. She found it peculiar that his growling voice didn't change when he switched forms. It sounded the same human as it did when he was a wolf.

"That's an odd question," she responded. "Of course others have seen me. I live here. It's not as if I can help it." He didn't ask her anything else, so she decided to ask him a question instead. "What happened to your left hand?" The hunter's face remained stoic. Sarah sighed. It didn't appear he was going to answer, which was irritating. "I'm sure you've spent the last few centuries of your life getting the strong silent type down pat," she said flippantly, "but it's really not that impressive and, after the creepiness fades, it becomes annoying." She wasn't really sure why his refusal to talk bothered her so much except that it perpetuated the tension. Sarah was getting tired of the macho acts surrounding her. "So," she continued softly, persistently, "why don't you tell me what's wrong with your hand?"

Left Paw regarded her curiously. "It is easier to see than to tell," he said finally. He motioned her closer.

Sarah hesitated, anxious. "You promise you won't do anything to hurt me?" she asked presently. It paid to be careful.

"I swear no harm will come to you," he said. She didn't know if she believed that, but shifted closer anyway. Her curiosity was piqued. When she was less than a foot away, the hunter took his arm out of its sling and began unwrapping his left hand. Sarah couldn't help the gasp that escaped her. There was no hand attached to his arm. Instead, there was a large black wolf's paw growing out of his wrist. Her wide eyes stared at him questioningly.

He began to cover the paw again. "It is part of my punishment," he told her. "I can never be accepted as fully human, nor as fully bestial. It serves to keep me in solitude."

"That's where the name comes from?" she asked. He nodded. "But that means Left Paw isn't your real name?" He nodded again. "What's your real name?" She was curious to know. This time he shook his head. If she hadn't already heard him speak, she might think he was mute. Talkative, he certainly wasn't. "You know my name," she pointed out reasonably, "can't you tell me yours?"

"Names," he said shortly, "have power."

Sarah shook her head at the answer. Did everyone in this crazy place have a compulsion to talk in riddles and half-truths? "They do," she agreed, "but is it really fair that you have my name and I don't have yours?" Sarah didn't really expect an answer and scooted away, putting distance between herself and the hunter.

He surprised her a moment later when he spoke. "Galen," he said quietly, "my name is Galen."

"Galen," she repeated. Sarah scrutinized his face. His eyes were a deep forest green; they were almost black in the darkness. "It suits you," she told him.

"As does your name," he replied. He was still looking at her intently

"Why do you keep staring at me?" she asked, exasperated.

"You are," he paused as if trying to find the right word, "unusual."

Sarah sighed again. "I get that a lot." She wasn't sure what it meant either and didn't really want to find out. "You're not exactly normal yourself," she countered.

"Why can't you sleep?" he asked her abruptly.

"Sometimes I just don't," she answered with a shrug. "It's better than it used to be, since Eryx helped, but I still have trouble."

"Eryx?"

"The centaur," she clarified. She went on hesitantly. "We can speak telepathically. I shared his emotions."

"Do you have dreams like Tyler?" Galen asked her.

"What are you talking about?" she replied, puzzled by the question.

"Your brother dreamed of me before he sought me out," Galen explained. "I wondered if you also had dreams."

Sarah shook her head. "That's part of my problem," she said. "I rarely dream. Sometimes I do, but never of anything exciting. Mostly, I dream of the beach."

"The coastline?" he inquired. She nodded. "Why do you dream of oceans?"

She shrugged. "My favorite place is the beach," she told him, folding her arms on her knees and resting her chin on top of them. "I grew up near the coast. It makes me feel safe and calm and strong, so I dream about it."

"You seem strong enough outside of dreams," Galen said.

She shook her head and turned the conversation around. "What do you dream about?"

Galen studied her in the firelight. "I do not dream," he said, "because I do not sleep. When I become a wolf, I feel as if I slept a full night," he explained solemnly. "The same is true for when I am a man again."

Sarah gazed into the little campfire thoughtfully. "That makes sense," Sarah said finally.

"It does?" The dark eyed hunter asked, taken aback by her response.

"Yes," she answered, lifting her head to address him, "it does." She gathered her thoughts before explaining. "My grandfather told me you have a wolf's mind when you're a wolf and a human mind as a human, is that right?" He gave her a curt nod. He was looking at her so warily it made her want to laugh, but she didn't. "Then you change bodies as well as mind," she pointed out. "You go a whole night resting your wolf body and brain and a whole day resting the human parts. I think you're probably both things all the time, human and wolf," she said, meditatively gazing back into the fire, "but while one part is awake the other sleeps, letting you rest without realizing it."

Galen was, as expected, silent. When he spoke again, he said slowly, "I have never considered this. I think you are correct. It is intelligent thinking," he added as if he was surprised she possessed a brain. She almost snorted at the backwards compliment.

Instead, Sarah nodded graciously. "You really were a bad person, weren't you?" she asked suddenly.

"I was and still am," the hunter replied bluntly. "At least," he clarified gruffly, "I am not a good person. But I have had much time to learn the art of regret."

"Regret, Galen," Sarah told him softly, "is not the same as repentance."

Galen shook his head. "I am aware," he said. "It is strange to hear that name again."

"Does no one use your real name?"

"Hardly anyone knows it anymore," he said. "Even I sometimes forget."

"Seems a shame to throw away a perfectly good name," she quipped, "but I guess Left Paw is fitting enough if you'd rather I didn't call you Galen."

"It is fine," he assured her. "It is necessary to remember."

"Why? So you can wreak vengeance upon your enemies once the curse is lifted?" It seemed like something the hunter would do.

"You think I am wrathful?" he inquired.

"I think you've done terrible things," she answered. "I think you're probably brave and fierce, but cruel and relentless, too." She regarded him unflinchingly, fully aware he was now glaring at her. "Grandpa is probably right," she continued. "You haven't learned the lesson you were meant to. You've learned many others instead."

"What am I meant to learn then? Are you to be my teacher?" Galen questioned her with cynicism heavy in his voice.

Sarah didn't falter though. She felt like she was baiting a . . . well, a wolf. But she couldn't stop herself. "You were meant to feel remorse and guilt," she told him. "From that, you were meant to learn compassion, selflessness, maybe even heroism," she added. "And no," she answered his question, "I am not going to be your teacher. You'll have to learn it yourself, no matter how many millennia it takes you." She shook her head as she spoke, her pity for him returning abruptly.

His eyes tightened at the corners and his mouth turned down grimly, but that was the only evidence of his anger. "You are blunt, but I cannot claim what you say is false." He dropped his head briefly and, when he looked up again, his eyes relaxed. "Would that you could teach me, Sarah," he said softly. That was a creepy statement. She shuddered. "I didn't mean to frighten you," he apologized, obviously taking note of her reaction.

"I don't think you can help it," Sarah flippantly informed him, going back to her fire gazing. She thought he might have smiled at her, but she couldn't be sure.

"You are a being," he told her, "who is learning to be strong when you've only been weak in the past. I don't mind being the object of your newfound ferocity." There was a definite smile in his voice, Sarah thought.

His statement was rather quizzical, but Sarah decided not to address it. She yawned instead keeping her eyes trained on the campfire. Galen put another branch on the flames. Sparks flew into the air spreading heat and light. Sarah didn't mind the excessive warmth. It was hot tonight, but there was still a chill in the air. She should have asked Kimmy about rain before they left the farm. Clouds were rapidly covering the night sky and hiding the moon. They might dissipate by morning, but Sarah suspected they'd stay and produce rain by tomorrow.

The flames danced before her eyes. She hoped Benji had a fire. Sarah knew this was some fool's errand he was on, but she had a hard time being mad at him. Not yet, at any rate. He was young and idealistic and, mostly, he was her little brother. She wanted to help him and keep him safe. But she thought this would have happened, or something like it, no matter what. Benji needed to try something, anything, to make the world go back to the way it was before Mom died. Maybe he wouldn't let himself be happy again until he exhausted all other possibilities. Or maybe she was tired and philosophizing too much, Sarah thought with another yawn.

"You should try to sleep," Galen interrupted her thoughts. "We moved fast today, but we may have to move faster tomorrow. Your young brother is closer to his destination than we are."

Sarah nodded, rising and walking back to her tent. "Goodnight, Galen," she called softly. He gazed at her strangely, but didn't wish her a good night in return. She crawled back into her tent and zipped the flap behind her. That was one very odd, very cursed individual, Sarah thought sleepily. In his own way, he was just as creepy as San, but at least he didn't insist on trying to cultivate a lasting friendship. She felt stiff, both mentally and physically, after their conversation and was grateful to be lying down.

She prayed Benji was lying somewhere comfortably. Despite her waxing philosophical, she was still very afraid for him. He didn't realize how dangerous an undertaking he was on. How did he expect to deal with something as powerful and crazy as Thana? Surely he wouldn't come all this way without some kind of confidence in his plan, but it was more than likely a false confidence. Still thinking of her little brother, Sarah fell into an uneasy sleep.

She woke up to the sound of raindrops on canvas. She changed her under-things while the tent protected her privacy and sponged off some of yesterday's dirt with water from her canteen. When she felt relatively clean, she repacked her gear and rolled up the thin sleeping bag before exiting the tent.

The morning was dark, almost as dark as the night had been. Sarah saw immediately it was due to the heavy cloud cover rather than the early hour. There was a gray sheet of rain falling from the sky in an unsteady drizzle, plastering Sarah's hair to her face. She dug out a blue and white bandana and tied it around her head to keep her hair off her face. The water wasn't too chilly and she thought it wouldn't be too hard to hike in. She gave a brief mental thanks to Jessie for making sure Sarah brought plenty of dry socks.

She looked around the campsite and saw Galen lying opposite her tent on the other side of the dying fire. He was a wolf again, and his red fur glistened wetly in the gray morning. He watched her, which she had to admit was creepy, but Sarah ignored him and went about disassembling her tent. The noise woke Grandpa and Tyler.

They scrambled with some difficulty out of their small tent. Grandpa grumbled a little before washing up in the shallows of the river. Tyler went after Grandpa got back and once everything was mostly packed up again, the three of them sat and ate a breakfast of dried fruit and peanut butter crackers. Despite the rain, they got going fairly quickly with Galen scouting around them as he did the day before.

### *****

### Chapter 28: On the Move

### *****

Benji was making good time. He worried sleeping in would cost him a day, but soon enough Thana's mountain loomed ahead of him. The conical monolith was haloed by heavy gray clouds. Sunshine tried to break through the rain, and lent a silver shimmering light to the current drizzle. It was ethereal. Very appropriate, Benji thought, for the home of a Necromancer.

The patchy showers of this morning finally became a steady downpour of light rain during the early afternoon. It made hiking a slippery and treacherous endeavor, but Benji tried to keep a brisk pace regardless. He wished he had a hat or a poncho. The water pelting his face made it difficult to see and it was hard enough keeping his footing without accidently stepping into a gulley. His shoes were already caked with mud and rock. It made his feet feel heavy.

On top of that, Benji's legs were still sore. With each step, he felt muscles and tendons pulling against each other abrasively. When he started out in the late morning, every movement was accompanied by stinging pain, but gradually the pain dulled to discomfort. He was used to it now, but remained grateful nothing unexpected occurred. Benji wasn't sure he could outrun anything today.

It was three o'clock. Benji walked over a steep ridge that separated the second and third mountains. There was brief dip in the landscape before the last mountain climbed towards the sky. This was a good place to stop, eat, and check the map. He had to move fast if he still wanted to make it by sunset, though. Thana's hut was halfway to the peak and on the far side of the rocky mass in front of him.

Benji found a relatively dry spot to sit on a fallen log. He dug out a granola bar and a bottle of water. The food was gone quickly and Benji's stomach still growled. He wanted to conserve, but he also needed energy for the last leg of this trip. He compromised with himself and added a handful of cereal to his meal. At least he was being good about conserving his water. He should have plenty left if he and his mother made a swift journey back to the farm.

After eating, Benji sifted through his tattered backpack and took out his map of Black Rock. He traced his path and approximated his current location. The tiny dot marking Thana's residence on the mountain appeared to be on the opposite slope. Benji would have to start climbing higher, too, which would be more difficult. Rock climbing wasn't his strong suit. A straight line put his destination only three or four miles away, but Benji figured it might actually be twice that since he had to zigzag his way across the terrain.

He put the map away and slung his ruined backpack over his shoulder. He scraped off some of the debris stuck to his boots before setting out again. Benji hoped the rain would let up. It would be more difficult to get his bearings once he was actually on the mountain, but the sun would be a useful compass, since his other one was commandeered by the fairies.

### *****

Tyler was getting tired. The exertion of the hike combined with the dreary day made him want to find a warm bed and go back to sleep. He didn't sleep well sharing Grandpa's tent last night. Not only was it uncomfortable, but he dreamed about Left Paw's camp again. It left a distasteful and suspicions feeling that lingered in his mind.

The dream always ended with a flaming red wolf leaping out of the fire at him with its jaws wide open. Tyler glanced into the trees at his left. A big red wolf was speeding through the underbrush about a yard away. It disappeared into the forest up ahead. Left Paw was a red wolf. Or at least he turned into one.

It must mean something. Looking back, Left Paw had been inordinately interested in Tyler's dream. Both times he visited the hunter, Left Paw questioned him intricately about the dream. The hunter speculated on the dream's meaning, but he never once mentioned that he was also a wolf. Could Left Paw be the wolf in the fire? Why was he so interested in Tyler's dream?

Tyler became less and less certain about Left Paw as time went on. It wasn't just because he hadn't told Tyler about the wolf part of the curse, but also because Tyler was becoming convinced the hunter had ulterior motives for befriending him. Tyler was beginning to regret asking him for help in the first place, but so far, the hunter was proving to be an invaluable asset in finding Benji.

Sarah and Grandpa were ahead of Tyler, huffing and puffing and trying to keep a brisk pace. They stopped for lunch about an hour ago. Conversation was next to nil. Except to determine direction and ask Left Paw how close Benji was, no one was in a speaking mood. That was fine with Tyler. This gray, sodden day was made for brooding, not talking.

### *****

The rain wasn't slackening. If anything, it was getting worse. Benji's feet were chafing in his wet boots. He slid more than he climbed. He felt like he had barely gone a mile since his late lunch, but that was already over an hour ago. The lack of progress and his growing discomfort were discouraging.

The mountainside was steep, steeper than it looked from below. Benji spent valuable time trying to find safer routes up, but eventually he gave in. There just weren't any safe means of climbing the mountain. After a few close calls of slipping on wet leaves and mud, he decided to continue forward before attempting to ascend again.

The map indicated Thana's home was on a ledge cut into the mountain on the other side. Benji was hoping there would be a trial once he reached the far side. It wasn't a very logical hope considering how inaccessible this place was to begin with, but it was better than nothing.

Trudging along in the depressing gloom was depleting Benji's energy reserves. He wasn't even positive he was still going in the right direction and the afternoon wasn't conducive to positive thinking. Benji kept walking anyway. His aching legs sometimes shook with exertion, but he didn't stop. The mountain wouldn't be a great place to set up camp and he still felt he might reach Thana before nightfall.

Hearing a sudden sound, Benji jumped, startled, and lost his footing. He slid a few feet before regaining his balance and peered into the forest below. The noise was brief, but loud. As Benji stared, the leaves didn't move except to bend with the rain. He waited. The last thing he needed right now was to be chased by some giant mole that spit acid or something.

Nothing happened. Benji relaxed and continued his trek. He didn't hear the noise again. False alarm. He was weak with relief and became nearly elated when the slope leveled out ahead of him. It wasn't a true trial, and still wasn't particularly flat, but it was better than the angle he was hiking before. Benji hoped it was a good omen.

### *****

Left Paw shot out of the sparse vegetation and skidded to a halt in front of the human trio. "I found the boy," he reported.

"Where is he?" Grandpa asked anxiously.

"A quarter of the way up the mountain and west of our position."

"That's close," Sarah said.

"He's still closer to Thana than we are," Tyler pointed out, "and the weather is beginning to slow our progress. I don't see how we're going to cut him off at this point."

Sarah gave him an exasperated look. "We should still try," she insisted. "We're at the base of the mountain. If we can find a stable route up, we might be able to catch him."

"I doubt we'll find an easy way up," Grandpa told her. "These mountains weren't formed naturally. They were designed to be inhospitable."

Sarah looked at Left Paw. "What if Galen went ahead," she suggested. Galen? Tyler was momentarily distracted by the name. Who was Galen? "He could corner Benji somehow, stop him until we can get there."

Grandpa was confused by the name, too, apparently, but Sarah was addressing Left Paw when she said it. She must mean the wolf. Grandpa looked between them suspiciously, but didn't comment on the use of the name. He shook his head at both of them. "That might cause more harm than good," he said. "The mountain is steeper than it looks and Benji doesn't know Left Paw." The old man put emphasis on the name. Tyler rolled his eyes. Adults seriously picked the worst times to nitpick over stuff. "Benji will probably try to run from the wolf and could get himself injured or killed."

"So we keep going," Sarah stated. Grandpa nodded in agreement.

"It's our best option," Tyler agreed, more just to get a say in than because he actually agreed. In his current mood, he wasn't sure he wanted to save his little brother at all. Maybe the kid needed something bad to happen so he could learn his lesson.

"We might at least be able to intersect his path at the same time he reaches Thana," Grandpa said hopefully. They continued hiking after Grandpa told Left Paw to keep tabs on Benji without alerting the boy to his presence.

The climb up was steep, just as Grandpa described. It took most of Tyler's concentration to find solid foot and handholds. With a bit more tilt, they'd have needed climbing gear and rope. As it was, they were each leaning forward, scaling the mountainside in hunched positions to keep their balance.

Sarah slipped once, and Tyler watched curiously as Left Paw suddenly appeared behind her. She steadied herself on his furry shoulder before continuing upwards. Her face was a mask of worry and concentration. It made Tyler feel ashamed.

Here he was, out in the muck with his sister who was trying to save their little brother, and all he could do was resent them both. He didn't want to be here, but he was their big brother. He was supposed to watch out for them. He wasn't doing a good job of it lately and indulging his childish mood wasn't helping. Tyler was glad Sarah couldn't read his thoughts or feelings. Thankfully, her ability to do that only worked with centaurs.

An hour or so into their climb, Grandpa called for a break. They snacked on peanuts and almonds and downed much needed water. Left Paw informed them Benji wasn't making great progress, either, but he was doing better than they were. His part of the mountain was more level than the section they were climbing. It was looking less likely they would make it to Benji before he did something stupid.

### *****

The rain finally began to thin. It became lighter, more like mist than actual rain, but Benji wasn't sure that was any better. The mist made it harder to see. He was thankful, at least, that his path was fairly even now. He should be moderately close to the ledge where Thana made her home. Benji tried to walk the line between speed and caution. He wanted to get there soon, but he also wanted to arrive in one piece.

He didn't hear any more rustlings in the bushes. Benji listened carefully, though he wasn't exactly certain what to do if something did suddenly attack him. There weren't a whole lot of places to run on the slope and it would be easy to trip and fall down the near vertical incline of the mountain. Nevertheless, he tried to remain vigilant.

After following the flatter section of the slope, the trees and undergrowth became sparse. Benji felt more secure once he could see further, but the gray haze of rain still blocked his periphery. His stunted vision made him nervous. Benji kept hoping to see a house or cabin through the next copse of trees or just around the bend. The sun was getting lower, the sky already tinted yellow and fading into orange. Anxiously, Benji sped up as much as he dared on the treacherous mountain.

### *****

Tyler wasn't thrilled when the steady rain was replaced by a soggy vapor. The sky was still cloudy and the damp fog made it hard to see. He couldn't think of a worse time to be climbing a mountain occupied by a Necromancer. Zombies in the mist would be highly appropriate considering the atmosphere. He repressed a shudder.

Behind him, Grandpa was having a hard time. He was breathing heavily and, like the rest of them, kept slipping on the slick and muddy terrain. Tyler was half afraid he might have a heart attack, except that Tyler and Sarah were breathing just as hard. The air was thinning the higher they climbed.

Tyler tried to suck in oxygen and hold his footing as he trudged up the slope. He used trees growing out of the rock at angles to help propel himself up. Unfortunately, the vegetation thinned to sparse shrubbery and Tyler suddenly found himself faced with a craggy wall of rock. They reached a sheer cliff face that went straight up. Grandpa and Sarah paused next to Tyler, the three of them craning their heads to see how far up the wall was. Left Paw had run off to locate Benji's current position.

"We're below the shelf where Thana lives," Grandpa told them between deep breaths.

"How far up is it from here?" Sarah asked. Grandpa shook his head.

"It doesn't matter," Tyler put in, "we'll have to go around. We can't climb that."

Grandpa nodded again. He tried to catch his breath before speaking. "If we go that way," he pointed to the east side of the vertical rock, "we should reach a path that will lead us to the ledge."

The three of them nodded, no one wanted to waste breath talking when they didn't have to, and began advancing east. They didn't speak again even when Left Paw came back and told them Benji was nearing Thana's house. Tyler's anxiety rose. They needed to move fast to get to Benji. They were so close.

### *****

Finally, a break in the trees actually led somewhere. Benji gulped in thankful swallows of air as he looked around. The sun was still up, but rapidly fading into rainbow sherbet colors. Benji hoped convincing Thana wouldn't take much time. He wanted to be off the mountain before setting up camp tonight. With his mother.

After leaving the sparse tree cover, Benji proceeded down a wide ledge curving around the mountain. A dirt path cut through tall reedy grass and Benji followed it. He heard faint gurgles of running water ahead. The tall grass on either side of the trail was more than half Benji's height. It waved eerily in the humid breeze.

Benji suddenly realized there were no birds. No insects called to each other. No forest animals scurried in the underbrush. He was surrounded by the whispering grass with only the noise of running water to lead him forward. He shivered.

A new sound entered the still, strange unquiet. It was like wood hitting wood or sliding across something. A shuffling that was oddly rhythmic. Around a bend in the path, Benji discerned a cabin hidden in the grass in front of him. It must be Thana's house, Benji thought excitedly, momentarily forgetting the queer atmosphere surrounding him. He hurried closer. The dirt track continued on its reed abutted path and led to an ill-fitting door with two shuttered windows on either side. A waterfall rushed down the mountainside behind the cabin, filling Benji's ears with its noise.

When he reached the door, Benji raised his hand to knock, excitement making his fist shake a little. The roaring waterfall suddenly became deafening. The swishing voices of the tall, reedy grass buzzed like feedback from a bad speaker system. It was silent and painfully loud at the same time. Benji felt dizzy and swayed on his feet. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the noise stopped. It was normal again. Just grass and a waterfall, nothing strange except the unidentified hollow sliding sound that repeated like a bad melody. Benji shook his head to clear it and took a deep breath.

He knocked loudly. The door shuddered under his fist and Benji was half-afraid it would collapse. The place didn't look very stable. Benji waited, but no one invited him in or opened the door. The cacophony of the waterfall probably drowned out the noise of his knock. Benji decided to try again, louder this time, but he didn't trust the rickety door. He thudded his fist against the door frame instead, and a satisfying boom, boom, boom, came out of the more stable woodwork.

"Hello?" Benji shouted, adding his voice to assure he was heard this time. There was still no answer, but just as Benji thought he might try looking for a back door or opening the shutters, the door swung inward. It creaked softly open, like every door in every haunted house movie Benji had ever seen. He stepped back involuntarily.

A woman stood in the darkened interior of the cabin, framed by the doorway. She had pale gray skin loosely hanging on her thin frame. Her dress might once have been blue, but it was an ashy gray now, stained and torn. Her jet black hair hung straight as rain around her body past her waist. It was misted with dew from the waterfall and shone in the fading sunlight. She was tall and long, like a spider instead of a woman, and had shadowy purple eyes that were regarding Benji curiously.

"What do you here, boy?" she asked in a voice that blended oddly with the waterfall.

Benji stepped forward, chin up, shoulders back. He was here for a purpose. "Are you Thana the Necromancer?" He demanded boldly.

"Not anymore," she replied, "but once I was known thus." The woman spoke slowly, with a garbled accent. It was difficult for Benji to understand her.

"I need a Necromancer," Benji insisted. "I need someone who can bring a person back to life."

Purple eyes examined Benji up and down. He felt like a slide under a microscope, a microscope wielded by Dr. Frankenstein. The woman's piercing gaze bore into him when she reached his face again. Benji couldn't look away. He didn't know how long they stood there, eyes locked in a very disturbing staring contest, but finally, the woman looked away. "I can do that," Thana said simply, and stood back to let Benji inside.

### *****

### Chapter 29: The Deal for the Dead

### *****

The cabin was much larger than Benji expected. It stretched into the mountain. The right wall and part of the room were cut into the stone like a cave. There was a door directly opposite the entrance leading to the waterfall and two large windows beside it were opened to the waning sunlight. A pallet of fur and blankets occupied the far right corner and small, roughly made stools were scattered about. It smelled damp and musty.

Thana led Benji over to a large wooden contraption threaded with strings dominating the space beneath a window. Black cloth was taking shape amid the string and Benji assumed it was some kind of loom, which would explain the strange wooden sounds Benji heard. Apparently the Necromancer had been weaving when Benji knocked. She shuffled as she walked and Benji noticed she wore no shoes.

Thana pointed sharply to stool near the loom and commanded Benji to sit. She took her own seat at the loom and began working again. "You have invaded my sanctuary for a selfish want," she accused. Because of the din created by the loom and waterfall, Thana had to speak very loudly to be heard. "Defend your request," she demanded. Benji was so startled by her dictatorial manner, he couldn't respond. "Speak, boy!" the woman ordered.

Feeling more than a little like a frightened hound, Benji gathered his courage and obeyed. Thana might be the only person who could bring his mother back. "My name is Benjamin Rose," he began. "I'm the grandson of the Keeper here and I need you to bring my mother back. Her name is Annie Rose and she died before she was supposed to." The weaving woman snorted, but didn't say anything. "I know you're a Necromancer. I'm here to see if you will do what I ask."

The Necromancer cackled. "All who come to me speak thus," she laughed, her voice breaking and glacial. Benji cringed, but didn't know what to say. Thana quieted and went back to her weaving, ignoring Benji. As he watched, he was startled to see the strange woman begin to cry. A stream of steady tears ran down her long face and her eyes were transfixed on the loom. Despite her tears, Thana's expression was hard and unforgiving. Maybe she was seeing someone die, Benji speculated.

"So will you do it?" Benji finally demanded.

Thana stopped her activity and shifted to face Benji. Her purple eyes gleamed wetly and regarded him with blatant amusement, like a spider playing with a fly. Benji resisted the urge to look away and repeated his question.

"Will you bring my mother back?" he asked.

"All things have a price," Thana told him, "this is no different and the cost is high."

Benji vaguely recalled reading something about the high cost of raising the dead, but he didn't have any gold or anything. "What do you want?" he asked warily.

Thana cackled again. Her laugh sounded like knives cutting flesh, sharp and liquid at the same time. "Boy, you have much to learn of value," she said. "Price is not arbitrary, it is a balance. What I receive from you must be the value of what I will give you. Do you have a life to offer me? Perhaps your own?" Her eyes became dry and serious, the laughter abruptly halted.

Benji never considered that she would ask for his death in return for Mom's life. It made sense, but despite his determination, it wasn't something he was willing to give up. He shook his head. "I'm not going to kill anyone, least of all myself," he answered. "What else do you consider equal in value?"

Thana looked him over shrewdly. "Before a bargain is struck, I will give you a warning," she said. She folded her long, gray hands across her lap. "You are young," she pointed out. "You have no real knowledge of what you ask."

Benji tried not to be frustrated by this answer. "I know what I'm asking," he said through his teeth. He tried to relax his jaw. "I want you, a Necromancer, to bring my mother's body and soul back from the dead."

Thana nodded, but continued as if he hadn't spoken. "The balance of the world depends on we who live in it. Ones such as me have more control over that balance than a simple human boy." Her obvious disdain made Benji even more tense and impatient. "My power is a great abuse of nature," she explained solemnly, "it disrupts the most elemental law of this world: what lives must also die."

"You won't die," Benji interrupted. "You're an Immortal."

Thana sighed, a watery, gurgling sound. "I will die," she said sadly, her voice cracking and sliding like melting ice. "My kind dies much, much more slowly than yours," she said. "The first Immortal ever born to this world has not yet died, but she is bound to the same laws as you and I. She will die in time."

"Even if that's true," Benji countered, defending his purpose. "My mother died before she was supposed to. Her death was an accident caused by someone else. It was senseless and irresponsible and she deserves to be alive." Benji looked as directly as he could manage into Thana's purple gaze. He wasn't playing a game. He was serious, though he suspected the Necromancer didn't think so.

"That may be," Thana said after a long pause, "but, nevertheless, what you ask will disrupt the universe in a way your mind will never comprehend. To bring the dead back to life is considered the gravest of sins against nature and it has never done much good for mankind."

"Look," Benji addressed the thin woman, too frustrated and impatient to be polite, "I get what you're saying. But this is truly the right thing to do. The cycles, the balance, the whatever," Benji gestured wildly in irritation, "that was screwed up because my mom died in the first place. Bringing her back will only set things right."

Thana only chuckled in response, making Benji grind his teeth in annoyance. The roar of the waterfall reverberated through the cabin. It felt like Benji was hearing blood rushing through his ears instead of water. The sound seemed to swell in the silence, becoming louder and more unbearable with each passing moment. Thana had to listen to him. She knew he was right.

Finally, Thana spoke and the noise in Benji's head subsided. "I have a need that can be met in this transaction," she told him. "If you are determined in your course, then I can be persuaded to raise your mother and bring her back to you."

"What?" Benji demanded. "What do you want?"

The Necromancer answered gravely. "I need a thread."

"A thread?" She needed thread? Huh? Had Benji missed something?

"This is a shroud," she gestured to the black cloth on the loom. "I see death, all death. I see dying trees, dying animals, dying men," her voice became weepy again, sounding like wet broken glass. "The world is constantly dying before my eyes. Even as I look at you now, I am watching the death of another."

"What does that have to do with the shroud and thread?" Benji asked cautiously. Thana was beginning to creep him out. She was crying again.

"For each death," her watery voice intoned, "the shroud grows. One day, it will cover a dead world. But I am far from finishing it." She raised her hands towards Benji, turning them so he could examine the ashen appendages. "My hands cannot weave fast enough, but a certain thread would finish this instantly." She seemed to be laughing and crying at the same time. Benji found it even harder to understand her. "A thread of the soul, freely given, will complete my trial," Thana concluded softly.

Beneath the din of the waterfall, Benji wasn't sure he'd heard her right. "The thread of a soul?" he asked.

Thana nodded. "The soul has many names, but it can be given or taken. It is the element of being that powers all thought, all love, all hate." Thana touched the center of her chest as she spoke. "The soul has no true form, but it can be taken piecemeal and imbued with certain properties. I propose that you, Benjamin Rose," she decreed "offer up a piece of your soul to create a thread that will end my work here." She lapsed into silence, waiting for Benji to speak.

"Don't I kind of need my soul to be whole?" he asked. "If I gave you part of it, wouldn't it kill me or something?"

"It will not kill you. You will survive only missing a small piece," she said. "The loss will manifest as a vague ache, like a pricked finger, that is all." She waved away the potential discomfort. "You will be no different, hardly less than what you are now. And you will have your mother."

Benji considered this. He didn't know anything about souls. This seemed complicated, but it also fit Thana's trading stipulation. Giving up part of his soul was worth saving Mom. But he worried this might be some sort of trick, even if it did seem logical.

"If you bring my mom, I give you a thread from my soul?" Benji asked the Necromancer.

"No," Thana replied sharply. "If you give me the piece of soul, then I will bring your mother back."

"I don't think so," Benji said, shaking his head. "How am I supposed to trust that you'll do what I ask once you've gotten your thread?"

Thana laughed in little huffs and puffs, like bubbles popping out of her chest. Her body shook, but her voice was firm. "I may have some power, and I have certainly retained my knowledge, but I have not the power to bring your mother to you," she explained ruefully. "That takes more energy than can be gathered in a brief moment, more energy than I could possibly obtain by myself. The thread would give me energy, as well as help me in my labors. With its power added to my own, only then can I do what you wish."

That sounded reasonable. After all, Thana was cursed. That probably dampened her abilities to some extent. It still didn't sound like a great deal, though. "Isn't there anything else you would consider of worth?" Benji wondered.

"A life for a life, service for a service, or the payment I have requested. Those are the only options," she told him firmly. "You can grant me no service equal to the one I will give. You will not kill. The only thing left," Thana shrugged her narrow shoulders making her sagging skin tremble, "is the thread. Or you could always leave," she added. "One would not fault you for giving up such a venture."

"No!" Benji said quickly. He wasn't giving up. He had a lot of doubts about this, but he smothered them in anger. He couldn't just let Mom stay dead. What would happen to his family without her? Look at what already happened! He had to do this. "Alright," Benji said. "A piece of my soul for the life of my mother."

"We are agreed?" Thana asked.

"Agreed." Benji watched as she shuffled over to a moldy basket on the other side of the loom. She rummaged through it and then stood to display a square of cloth and small sewing needle.

"First to seal the bargain," she said coming back to Benji. She grabbed his hand and he let her stab his finger. When the sharp pain receded, Thana handed him the needle and bade him do the same to her. Her fingers felt waxy and her blood welled up black and thick. She pressed her injured finger into the cloth and Benji did likewise. He hoped he didn't contract some sort of disease from this exchange.

When Thana stood back, but did nothing more, Benji asked, "Now what? What do we do next?"

"You must say that you give the thread of your soul to me freely and in full knowledge of what that entails," she answered.

Benji's voice shook a little when he replied, but his resolve was strong. "With full knowledge and of my own free will," he intoned, "I give you a thread of my soul."

Benji was about to ask what he was supposed to do next when Thana lunged at him. He crashed to the ground with the Necromancer on top of him, pinning him down. She had the needle grasped in one hand and poised it high above his chest. Sunlight glinted off the sharp point and Benji began to struggle. He tried to push her off, but she brought the needle down swiftly. It pierced his chest with a sickening silence. Benji screamed. The pain was intense and immediate. It grew and grew, and through the haze of it, Benji knew he had made a mistake. This isn't right, he thought, not right at all. Then the pain swept him away.

### *****

Tyler was running. They were all running. Left Paw kept pace with them, racing along in the trees, guiding them. It was just a little further. There would be a break in the trees and a path and a cabin. Thana's cabin. Where Benji was.

Sarah was faster than Tyler. She dislodged her pack from her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground with a thud, and raced ahead. Grandpa motioned for Left Paw to follow her. No one was speaking. They couldn't, they were all breathing too hard, trying to get to Benji. Sarah disappeared around a bend in the trees with Left Paw's red form beside her. Tyler shed his own pack and tried to run faster. He felt, more than saw, Grandpa do the same. Without the added weight, Tyler broke away from his grandfather and sped onwards.

Tyler broke into a reed strewn clearing ahead of Grandpa. He heard a scream as he rounded the mountain ledge and spotted a gray cabin. The door was wide open, the space beyond glowing strangely. He leapt over the threshold and almost crashed into Left Paw who was growling at a tall spidery woman. The room was so bright, Tyler went blind for a moment.

In the few moments it took for Grandpa to get there, Tyler's eyes struggled to adjust. The old man charged through the door behind him, tumbling into Tyler. Grandpa rubbed his eyes against the brightness, but Tyler's vision was already beginning to clear. A dark, spindly woman was leaning over Benji, pulling at some kind of white light. Except the light was coming from Benji's chest! Sarah had apparently charged the Immortal and knocked the woman over, but her long gray fingers still clung to the stream of light, pulling it out of Benji's body.

Sound melded into white noise. Everything blurred together. Tyler froze in the doorway, watching his sister struggle with Thana. Left Paw suddenly rammed Thana's side and she shifted to fall on top of Sarah. The woman was grinning like a jack o' lantern, still pulling the glow out of Benji's chest. Sarah tried to grab her hand and Tyler saw a needle clasped in it, somehow attached to Benji with the light. Left Paw tried to bite Thana's wrist, but she flung him back into a stone wall with enough force that the wolf yelped and whimpered.

Sarah was pinned and the Immortal took advantage of her leverage banging Sarah's head into the floor. Grandpa tried to rush the woman, but he was flung back, his head hitting the stone wall with a resounding crack.

Tyler, suddenly unfrozen, tried to fake her out. He went left and then lunged right, jumping over Sarah and tackling the woman. Left Paw appeared beside him, his large paws holding Thana down as she screeched in rage. Sarah staggered up and grabbed the hand holding the needle, prying it out of her gray fingered grip. Her purple eyes bugged out of her head. She screeched and hissed in rage and tried to lunge up, but Tyler slammed her shoulders back into the ground at the same time Left Paw jumped back onto her chest. Her head hit the dirt floor with a loud crack and she was still.

Breathing heavy, Tyler turned to check on Benji. Sarah was guiding the needle back to his chest. The light went with it. It was some kind of string, a glowing thread retracting back into Benji's body. When the tip of the needle touched Benji's chest the light disappeared leaving the room dim and shadowy. The sound of rushing water echoed hollowly in the cabin.

"We need to leave," Left Paw growled. He was trying to help Grandpa up, but the old man wasn't conscious.

"Can you take Benji?" Sarah directed the question at Tyler. He nodded and knelt, lifting Benji into his arms. He couldn't tell if he was breathing or not, but he didn't wake when Tyler lifted him.

Sarah roused Grandpa, but he was unsteady, barely managing to walk with his hand braced on Left Paw's back. "We have to get off the mountain," Grandpa yelled over the watery din. Sarah took some of Grandpa's weight and they hurried out of the cabin. Tyler glanced at the dark woman on the floor. Sticky black blood was oozing onto the dirt. He had no idea what Thana had done to his brother, but in that moment, Tyler was glad he hurt her.

The injured troupe zigged and zagged its way back down the dirt path as fast as they could manage, collecting their fallen gear along the way. Tyler practically slid down the mountain with Benji cradled against him. His pack was a dragging weight that hindered his balance. Grandpa fell a few times and Sarah and Left Paw strained to carry his weight. Sarah slung Grandpa's gear across Left Paw's back, but it didn't make it much easier for the old man.

The journey seemed to take hours, but they reached the foot of the mountain just as the last rays of sun disappeared. The wolf left Grandpa and Sarah abruptly, snatching his bundle from Tyler's pack and careening into the forest when the last echoes of daylight faded. Tyler sank to his knees where he stood with Benji still gripped in his aching arms. With exhausted irrelevance, he realized the whole ordeal took barely half an hour.

### *****

### Chapter 30: Another Secret

### *****

Sarah was scared. She didn't have time to be scared before now, she just reacted. As soon as she broke away from Tyler and Grandpa, she sped along the ledge of the mountain. She hardly registered Galen's presence beside her, his red wolf's body keeping pace as she followed a dirt path up to a long wooden shack half-hidden by tall, reedy grass. A sudden scream tore across the grassy ledge. Benji's scream.

The cabin door was shut, but Sarah didn't hesitate. She reached out and pushed the door open with a crash, jagged splinters digging into her fingers and palms. The room was bright, but she looked through the painful light and saw Benji lying on the floor, partially covered by the thin form of a black haired woman.

Sarah wasn't fully able to process what she saw. The woman was pulling something from Benji's chest: a bright, white string. Benji wasn't moving and Sarah barely stopped her stride before pummeling her body into the woman and knocking her backwards. The woman she assumed was Thana grinned madly, laughing high and loud. Her eyes were a wide, crazed violet and she had an iron grip on a needle somehow connected back to Benji's still form. Sarah struggled to get the needle. She hardly registered Galen's attack, but suddenly Thana pushed up against Sarah with unexpected strength, putting Sarah off balance and then pinning her to the ground.

Sarah concentrated on the needle, even while Thana's other hand gripped her hair and began slamming her skull into the dirt the floor. She scarcely felt the pain, but was dizzy when Tyler finally came to her aid. While he and Galen pinned the dark woman to the floor, Sarah unsteadily grabbed for the needle, prying long, gray fingers off of it. The woman was screaming and laughing still, a sound like cutting flesh. Sarah ignored her.

The strange white light attached to the needle radiated warmth. Sarah went with her instincts and took the needle back to Benji. She was momentarily relieved when the glowing string retracted the closer she moved towards her brother. Sarah carried the needle to Benji's chest and held it against the spot where the light originated. Blood welled from a small wound and was slowly soaking Benji's shirtfront. When the needle touched the spreading stain, the light disappeared and the needle felt suddenly heavy and cold in Sarah's hand. She threw the sharp implement away in disgust.

Sarah glanced backwards. Tyler knelt above a silent Thana. The Necromancer still had a grin plastered onto her gray face, but she wasn't moving. Galen was beyond the two figures on the floor, trying to help Grandpa get up. Her grandfather must have been hurt in the scuffle, something that escaped Sarah's notice. She asked Tyler to take Benji and then hurried to help Galen with Grandpa.

Groggily, the old man told them to get off the mountain and Sarah understood immediately. When Thana woke up, and she would (probably much sooner than anyone wanted her to), she could do whatever she wanted to them if they remained on the mountain. It was her territory. The five of them hurried out of there as fast as they could manage.

It was quiet now. Darkness had fallen and they were in a clearing below Thana's mountain. Bugs chirped and buzzed in the warm night. Leaves rustled in a breeze. It was humid and hot in the aftermath of the day's rain, but the sky was clear. A partial moon and millions of stars illuminated the group.

Sarah was slumped with Grandpa against a large boulder. She was still breathing hard and the ground kept moving though she remained still. Grandpa was leaning heavily on her and she guessed he was having a similar problem. Tyler and Benji were in front of her, her older brother kneeling next to her younger brother, gently laying the smaller boy on the ground. Galen had darted into the forest when night fell, but his human form was separating itself from the shadows and coming towards her now.

The ground stopped its spinning and Sarah used the rock behind her to push herself up. She clutched her head as black and white spots burst before her eyes. She thought she might fall over, but a steady arm braced itself against her waist and she remained upright. Sarah kept her eyes closed until her private fireworks display ended and she felt stable again. When she opened them, she found herself being dissected by the hunter's concerned green gaze.

"You're hurt," he said gruffly. And quite unnecessarily from Sarah's point of view.

She nodded and fought another bout of starbursts and dizziness. "Benji?" she asked through her haze.

Instead of answering, Galen led her to Tyler. She sank gratefully to the ground next to her older brother, but Galen kept a steadying hand on her shoulder. In her current state, she couldn't muster any objections, so she ignored the rough palm gently pressuring her shoulder.

"Is he alive?" she asked Tyler softly. The older boy shook his head and tried to wake Benji, gently jiggling his shoulder and calling his name softly. There was no response. Sarah leaned forward to examine him, and Galen's hand slid off her shoulder. She felt an odd slipping sensation when she touched Benji's wrist, like something fading just out of reach. She felt for his pulse. It was faint and fluttering and his chest rose and fell in miniscule increments.

She heard Grandpa approach and the old man sat heavily on the ground with his grandchildren. He leaned over Benji and picked up his hand. He checked Benji over, looking for wounds and checking his pulse, listening to his heartbeat.

"He's alive, at least," Grandpa said on a sigh.

"But what's wrong with him?" Tyler demanded. "What happened? What was that thing doing to him?" Grandpa only shook his head and Tyler's vehemence subsided.

They were all exhausted after the mad dash up the mountain. Neither Tyler nor Galen seemed the worse for wear, but Grandpa was shaking and blinking a lot as if trying to clear his vision. Even sitting, he was clearly unsteady. Sarah wasn't doing much better. She felt like sinking into the earth and sleeping for a millennium. Her muscles ached and the back of her head was screaming with pain. Her arms hugged tight around her waist and Sarah was dimly aware she was crying. Benji still didn't move.

Her little brother looked crumpled and fragile lying so still in the rising moonlight. His face was pale and looked unnaturally slender in the shadowed darkness. His hair hung in dirty, oily strings. And, worst of all, he didn't move, didn't twitch, didn't stir. His breathing was so faint, Sarah found herself checking the slight motion of his chest every few seconds to assure herself he hadn't stopped altogether. He was still alive, but the feeling of dissipation grew, as if she was looking at the end of a movie, dimming in slow motion.

Questions bombarded her tired mind like firecrackers. What had that woman done to him? Why was a string of light coming from his chest? What was the light? She closed her eyes tightly against them, but they did not recede. Instead, Sarah saw a grinning gray face with mad purple eyes. She rubbed her face, as if to wash away the image and was startled when a hand touched her shoulder.

It was Galen again. His expression was stony, but his eyes were full of concern. She put her hand on top of his and looked back to her little brother. Unmoving, unchanged, he lay in the moonlight. "What did she do to him?" Sarah whispered. Galen's hand dropped from her shoulder. She turned and found his face guarded.

She noticed the flickering light behind him and looked around curiously, distracted for a moment. The hunter had set up camp. The two tents stood sentinel behind a small campfire ringed with stones. The packs lined the nearby boulder in a neat row and a tin kettle rested in the coals of the popping blaze.

"Thank you," Sarah said in weary gratitude.

"You should eat," was Galen's only reply. He held out his unbound right hand. Sarah took it and allowed him to support her as she stood and got her footing. She wasn't as dizzy as before, but the ground rolled a little under her gaze. Galen walked close beside her towards the fire and handed her a bag of jerky and some granola bars when she sat. Tyler was helping Grandpa retrieve something form his pack and they joined her shortly. The group munched in silence, letting the night sounds take over.

Galen fiddled with the kettle and eventually he produced a strong smelling black liquid in tin cups for everyone.

"What is it?" Sarah asked, sniffing the brew. Galen replied tersely that it was coffee. It didn't smell much like coffee, but Sarah tried a sip. She nearly choked on the black stuff. Coughing and sputtering, she said, "The only way this is coffee is if you boiled it in a leather boot." She swirled bottled water in her mouth to get rid of the taste and could have sworn she saw Galen smiling, but the shadows crept over his face before she could be sure. She was about to turn the sludge out of her cup when Grandpa stopped her.

"You'd best drink it," he cautioned her. She was relieved that his voice was steadier and close to its normal booming tones. "You and I both took quite a knock from what I understand," he continued. "That makes sleeping a bad option under the circumstances." He took a grimacing swig from his own mug.

Sarah nodded thoughtfully. "You mean we might have a concussion," she said.

"I'm pretty certain you both do," Tyler put in. He didn't drink any of the so-called coffee, though. Instead, he produced a white box and asked Sarah if she minded him looking at her head. She said no, and he scooted close to her. She bent her head in compliance and heard the click of a flashlight. Tyler let out a long whistle after a few minutes of painfully prodding his sister's skull.

"Is it bad?" Sarah asked.

"Bad enough," Tyler told her. "We need to get you to a doctor sooner rather than later and probably Grandpa too." The three of them looked over at Benji, silently adding him to the patient list.

Tyler wiped stinging disinfectant on the sore spot at the back of Sarah's head and bandaged it clumsily. She didn't complain, though, and helped him when he examined Grandpa next. Grandpa had a gash along his crown that left a trail of blood flowing over his left ear. Once clean, it looked shallow, but none of them were exactly medical experts. In fact, Tyler was the only one with any real first aid training, as far as she knew, thanks to a stint one summer as a lifeguard.

When Tyler was satisfied that Grandpa's cut was as clean as it was going to get, he bandaged it as best he could and turned his attention to the silent form at the edge of the campfire. Sarah gathered the scraps of medical paraphernalia and Tyler grabbed the first aid kit before they both sat next to their little brother.

"He's pretty banged up," Tyler observed quietly. He made no move toward Benji, staying still and uncertain.

Grandpa came over and sat on the other side of Benji. "He could have run into trouble before getting to Thana's," he suggested.

"Some of the scratches and bruises look older," agreed Tyler.

Silence descended. Sarah was startled to feel wet tears dripping from her cheeks. He just looked so young and helpless, so still! Her little brother. She wiped the dampness off her face sharply. She wasn't just going to sit here and cry. If something could be done, she would do it.

"Let me," she said, easing the white box from Tyler's grip. She rummaged around until she found a pair of scissors and gently cut Benji's t-shirt open leaving his slight chest bare. The wound there was purple and yellow, like a bad spider bite. There was dried blood on Benji's shirt and around the puncture, but no more oozed out. That was good, she hoped; not bleeding was good.

Gently she cleaned the purple blotch. Her hands were unsteady, but she took deep breaths and forced herself to be calm. Just deal with one thing at a time. She could freak out later, but not right now.

She asked Tyler to turn the flashlight on. "It doesn't look so bad," she said aloud. "It might be deeper than I can see, but it's pretty small."

"So why isn't he waking up?" Tyler asked.

"I don't know, but the puncture didn't cause it. It looks like Thana jabbed that needle into him, but neither that nor the other scratches and bruises would account for . . ." Sarah fumbled, gesturing at Benji's motionless body.

"His unconsciousness," Tyler finished. "I'll check for a head injury." Her older brother examined Benji's head delicately and professionally. His returned confidence made Sarah feel more in control herself. "Nothing," Tyler declared. "Although, it looks like something singed off some of his hair."

"What happened up there?" Sarah wondered aloud. She looked up to find her grandfather staring pensively into the darkness. "Do you know?" she addressed him. He started at her query, but shook his head. "You must have some idea?" Sarah persisted.

"I'm not completely sure," Grandpa answered finally.

"Will he be okay?" Tyler questioned.

"I don't know," Grandpa said. "We'll have to wait and see, but he's alive and he's strong. He'll pull through." He said the last unconvincingly and Tyler shared a worried frown with Sarah.

Her older brother was tense and held himself rigid. "What if he doesn't?" he demanded softly. Grandpa didn't answer.

"Do you have any theories, Grandpa?" Sarah asked pleadingly as she carefully bandaged Benji's chest.

"What was that light?" Tyler added. "Do you think that's why he's not waking up?" Grandpa's expression became guarded. "If you know something," Tyler continued, "you have to tell us. We need to help him. He's our brother."

"If it could help Benji," she agreed, "we need to know." Grandpa gazed at them both forlornly.

"I don't think it will help Benji," he said finally. "Knowing, doesn't mean we can do anything about it," he finished, gesturing helplessly with his hands.

"That's not true," a growling voice answered from behind them. The trio turned in unison to regard the hunter. Galen came closer, standing at Benji's feet, looking down at them. He glared meaningfully at Grandpa.

"You stay out of this," Grandpa demanded, getting roughly to his feet.

"There is a way to help your grandson and you know it," Galen countered in a hard tone.

"Shut Up!" Grandpa yelled. His loud, deep voice silenced the night and quiet descended as the two traded scowls.

"What's he talking about?" Tyler asked. He stood and reached down to help Sarah to her feet.

"Nothing!" Grandpa declared. He threw a glare at both Tyler and Sarah before striding off to pace on the opposite side of the campfire.

"What's going on?" Sarah asked Galen softly. He shook his head curtly, but seemed to reconsider.

"Your grandfather keeps secrets," he said.

"Tell us something new," Tyler sarcastically responded. "Or something helpful, otherwise stay out of this." He angled himself in front of Sarah, facing the hunter.

"I can't help you," he said softly. Tyler snorted and waved a hand in dismissal. "But she can." Galen pointed to Sarah. Sarah couldn't help but shrink back from the attention. She looked away, not meeting the hunter's burning green gaze.

"What are you talking about, Wolfman?" Tyler demanded.

"Nothing," Grandpa's voice was harsh. He'd come up behind Galen was shoving him away towards the fire. "I know what you want, beast," Grandpa continued, his words dripping with derision, "and I won't let you or anyone else use it."

"Even your own kin?" Galen's question was quiet and steady. He stood his ground facing Grandpa.

Sarah watched the exchange out of the corner of her eye. Galen's allegation frightened her, but she didn't know why. What could she do? She looked at Benji lying deathlike on the ground between them. Did it matter? If it could help her brother, shouldn't she at least try? Without tearing her gaze away from her little brother she asked, "What can I do to help Benji?"

"Absolutely noth—!" Sarah didn't let her grandfather finish.

"What can I do?" she repeated, catching her grandfather in a steady gaze. He shook his head mutely.

"Tell us," Tyler interceded, though he once again placed himself in front of her protectively. He glanced back at her with concern, but repeated his statement. "You have to tell us."

Grandpa didn't answer right away. He gestured for them to sit and they convened near the fire. Galen sat opposite, his visage flickered and shimmered with the flames.

"His soul," Grandpa said quietly. "The light you saw was his soul."

"What do you mean 'his soul'?" Tyler prompted.

Grandpa heaved a sigh that fanned the flames. Sarah watched Galen in her peripheral vision. His face was a mask of stone. She wished her empathic ability connected her to more than centaurs. It would be helpful to know what he was feeling at the moment.

"Exactly that," Grandpa answered Tyler, "his soul. The essence of being, whatever you want to call it. That white light was a piece of it and that witch was tearing it out of him."

"Is that why he's still hurt?" Sarah asked.

Grandpa nodded. "Most probably, since he has no apparent external injuries."

"So he's injured internally?" Tyler questioned.

"In a way no medical doctor can fix, yes, I believe so."

"What does that have to do with Sarah?"

"She's not a medical doctor," Grandpa said, "but she is something."

"Something?" Tyler's apparent frustration was seeping into his voice. "What kind of something?" Sarah put a restraining hand on her brother's shoulder. They needed answers, not arguments.

"Tell us plainly, Grandpa," she requested calmly.

The old man looked at her balefully, like a fading hound. "There are things mysterious even to the magical, even to the Immortals," he began. He sounded old and his voice creaked and cracked like rotting leather. "One of those things is the soul." He ran a weary hand through his white cotton hair and rubbed his chin with the other. "It has power, but its exact nature is a puzzle to the most learned. Whatever Benji hoped to receive from Thana, in return he must have agreed to give up some of his soul." Sarah and Tyler both went tense and he took her hand in a grip that both gave and asked for comfort. "She didn't get it," Grandpa assured them. "She was stopped in time. But that kind of thing damages a person, it strains the soul like a pulled muscle or a bad sprain."

"This is more than just a sprain," Tyler pointed out.

Grandpa nodded. "I know." He waved towards Benji. "When the soul gets hurt, even in the smallest of ways, it wounds the spirit and the body. The part of Benji that is Benji is . . ." he searched for words, ". . . concussed, unconscious. I don't know how to revive someone from that state," he finished inadequately.

"Then why does Galen say you do?" Sarah countered.

"I don't know how," Grandpa answered, "but I know something that does."

"What?" demanded Tyler. He squeezed Sarah's hand gently and she squeezed back.

"A being with a pure soul," Grandpa said. "They are rare, rarer than you can possibly imagine, but they do exist. Most don't survive for long, though." He was gruff and began speaking rapidly as if his words were ripping a Band-Aid off quickly to avoid pain. "They're abilities are largely unknown because the power they wield is so coveted. The only ones I have read about died horrible deaths or became corrupted and vile and had to be . . . expunged from the earth. I've only ever known one to live a normal life." His gaze held tears when addressed the two siblings again. "Your mother."

"What!?" Tyler exclaimed. He didn't let go of Sarah's hand and she kept her grip firm. "What are you talking about?"

Grandpa seemed to age before their eyes in the flickering firelight. Sweat from the heat and humidity creased his face into sagging folds and his hair was becoming slick and slimy with it. "Annalissa Peregrine came to this sanctuary looking for protection. She had no idea what she was. She knew she had a gift, she was good with healing and calming and compassionate to a fault, but none of that seemed very magical to her. But something was after her; she felt it, saw it, had a close encounter with it once and was rapidly indoctrinated into a world where magic exists."

"Wait a minute," Tyler interrupted holding up a hand. "Does that mean Grandpa James and Grandma Shirley know? Are they something supernatural?"

Grandpa shook his head. "As far as I'm aware, Annie never told them anything and they've got no special abilities. They're simply humans." Grandpa picked up the thread of his tale. "When Annie came here," he said, "she found solace and, unexpectedly, love. She married your father and she took his name along with a bit of magic and effectively went into hiding."

"How is that possible?" Tyler cried. "Mom never hid from anyone! She lived in the same place for most of her life! She never gave anything up."

"She didn't have to," Grandpa told him. "When she left here, she was already pregnant with you, Tyler. Somehow, that diminished her obvious presence. Even the most adept and inherently magical being in this sanctuary could no longer sense her."

"So, when I was born, Mom stopped being . . . magic?"

Grandpa shook his head. "You don't remember this, you were barely crawling then, but right after you were born, Annie and Todd came back here. They needed sanctuary once again because as soon as you arrived, Annie started to . . . others sensed her again. We searched and questioned and researched, but eventually the problem solved itself."

"How?" Tyler demanded.

"I was born," Sarah said softly. Tyler was shaking his head, but Grandpa nodded solemnly and continued his story.

"Annie became pregnant again and the same thing happened. She was worried and sick with fear, though. She stayed her term in Mobile and when she went into labor, we were all there with our breath held. But when Sarah was born, Annie remained dormant, so to speak. It was only later, much later, that any of us realized what happened, that Sarah had been given her gift."

"If that's true," Tyler asked, visibly wrestling with Grandpa's words, "then why hasn't anything ever come after us, after Sarah?"

"For some reason, like many other beings, the purity didn't show up until Sarah became a teenager. Annie went most of her life not knowing, so has Sarah."

"When?" Sarah asked. "When did I . . . show signs?"

"Not until last year," Grandpa said. "Annie called us in a panic because she sensed it and felt 'shadows,' as she called them, following you. We tried to protect you, using what we knew, and your mother found that she could shield you somewhat, but it was only a matter of time."

"Then she died," Sarah said abruptly.

"Yes. Annie died. I don't think the car accident had anything to with this, I don't believe it was supernatural, but it was horrible timing in more ways than one. When your dad began sensing the trouble a few months ago, he decided to bring you three here. He didn't know how to deal with this as well as loosing Annie."

"You can say that again," Tyler muttered. "You still haven't gotten to the part where Sarah can help Benji."

"Mom could heal, that must be why she went into nursing," Sarah said thoughtfully. "Do you think I can to?"

"I know you can," Grandpa said. "It is one of the only strongly documented abilities of a Pure One. But you don't know how and it's more dangerous than you realize. You could end up hurting your own soul rather than healing Benji's."

"But I should try," Sarah said with quiet conviction. "I can't just let him lie there. I can feel something terrible is wrong."

"I don't know . . .," Tyler turned to her. "This isn't something I understand, but I'm more than sure it's dangerous. Maybe we should get Benji home and then try to find someone . . . qualified." He looked questioningly at Grandpa.

"Is there someone qualified?" Sarah asked. Grandpa opened his mouth as if to speak, but just shook his head. The message was clear enough: there was no one else.

"Do you know what I can do to help Benji?" Sarah addressed Galen through the embers of the campfire.

"Don't trust anything he says," Grandpa interrupted hotly. "He's a power monger and likely among your enemies, not your friends."

Sarah ignored him for the moment, waiting for Galen's answer. The hunter regarded her gravely. "It is said that a Pure One can heal the body, the mind, the soul and free the spirit," he said.

"How?" Sarah asked.

"Trust your instincts," he replied, standing and coming around the fire.

Sarah took his extended hand and let him help her stand, releasing Tyler from her grip. She moved toward Benji, still lying motionless on the ground, but Grandpa stopped her. He grabbed her by the shoulders and looked fiercely into her eyes.

"You can't," he protested. "You're not well, yourself," he said gesturing to the back of her head. "We don't know what will happen to you or Benji if you try this." Tyler stepped in and pulled Sarah out of Grandpa's grasp.

"Can you do this?" he asked her soberly.

"I don't know," she answered truthfully, "but I have to try. I don't think there's time to wait. I feel like he needs my help." Tyler nodded and went with Sarah to Benji's side. She knelt over her little brother and reached out to him.

"You could die or worse!" Grandpa insisted from behind her.

She glanced backwards and saw Grandpa trying to reach for her, but Galen blocked him and holding tightly to his shoulder. She met the hunter's gaze. His eyes were noticeably green even in the dark. He nodded at her. She gave them both a reassuring smile and smothered her own fear. Sarah placed her hands over the wound on Benji's chest and closed her eyes.

### *****

### Chapter 31: Healing

### *****

Sarah shut out the sounds around her. She focused on the memory of being pulled into Eryx's mind. But instead of pulling as the centaur had done, this time she pushed. And whimpered in pain. It felt like pushing through shards of glass. The sensation scraped her mind and heart with vicious talons. She ignored the pain, panting with effort, and concentrated.

Her body was snatched away, left behind, and only the 'other' part of her was there. Where ever 'there' was, it was dark. It pulsed around her in shades of red and purple and black. She felt the pain of it, the throbbing agony. Uncertain, she tried to find the source.

In the dark world, her mind searched desperately. As she moved in the pulsing darklight, Sarah felt it sticking to her. Black and red, tried to ooze its way into her being. Scared, she tried to push it away. Sarah was relieved when the stuff caked off her like dried mud. It didn't stop it from trying to cling to her again, but when she focused, it was easy to remove.

Wading through the sludge, Sarah saw a faint light in the distance. It wasn't bright or white, but gray and trembling like the fluttering heartbeat of a stone hummingbird. She headed for the light and the muck around began to pull at her feet. It was trying to suck her down like quicksand. She pushed it away again, but it came back faster, reaching out tendrils of throbbing purple and red trying to grasp at her.

Sarah's concentration went into keeping the darklight at bay. She tried to surround herself with light and warmth, combating the dark and cold trying to seep into her soul. The effort was intense, making Sarah feel weak and ineffectual. When she finally reached the small light, she was faint with exhaustion. She pushed the tiredness away along with the darklight and examined the small fragment of whispering brightness.

It was like a wounded animal, curled in on itself and shivering in pain. It was fear and disappointment and anger. It was sorrow and hate. It was Benji. The part of Benji she had come to find, the part that needed healing.

The palpitations of black, purple, and red were swarming it, but a ring of white kept them at bay, though it was shrinking rapidly. Red tendrils of darklight tried to grasp it and were shocked away by the whiteness. When Sarah placed herself within the ring, she no longer felt like she was trudging through mud. The darklight stopped its dragging and tugging.

Thankful, Sarah examined the shape of light in front of her. It was the center of the wound. The darklight was spreading around it like an infection, a poison, waiting to consume it. The gray light flickered and the circle of white inched closer. The darklight surged, sending out fresh tentacles of black and purple.

Sarah covered the shivering essence, trying to shield it from the encroaching darklight. She tried to hold it and infuse it with warmth and strength, but it resisted and shrank away. Sarah was beyond understanding. How could she do this? How did she heal such darkness? The essence itself was a darkling thing, not bright but sodden and shadowed.

Sarah thought back to Eryx. When he healed her heart he gave her love. Sarah tried again. This time she pushed out compassion and love, happiness and hope. She poured it into the essence like medicine and tried to sooth it when it shuddered in distaste. It glowed brighter. The light relaxed into a trembling yellow beam, then to a patch of white. The darklight shuddered away, dissipating like steam when the shining essence touched it.

Sarah pressed more positive feeling and emotion into it, watching it expand and fold out with a sigh. She was tired, but the glow was brilliant and whole again. She drifted back with a frown. The darklight still persisted. It was sharded glass now, a broken mirror scattered everywhere, waiting for a misstep.

Sarah reached for it, but it burned her when she touched it, fire lanced through her. She tried for another piece, but this time held on despite the pain. The darklight shard sizzled, melting away into vapor. She grabbed another piece, tensing at the burn, but didn't let go. Then she reached for another and another, working her way through the dark glass until only white and light remained.

When she picked up the last fragment, it hissed and popped like a threat, but vanished with the rest. The essence exploded wide. A shining blindness engulfed Sarah, dragging her beneath it. She struggled, pushing it away, scrambling for purchase, but she was so weak. She still felt the burning pain from the darklight remnants and she was exhausted. Her thrashing became weaker. She was so tired, so very tired. She couldn't hold herself together anymore. Sarah sank into the light. She let it burst through her and around her. It burned radiance and she gave herself up to whitening pain.

### *****

Benji felt warm. He couldn't remember why, but he knew he shouldn't feel warm. He shouldn't feel anything. There was a reason, a good reason, for staying in the foggy gray nothing. But what was it? He tried to let it go. He tried to retreat back into his cozy nest of unfeeling, but he couldn't. The warmth wouldn't go away. It felt tight, like an unwanted hug. It kept getting stronger and stronger until a white hot flash burst behind Benji's eyes and he sat up gasping for breath.

He was immediately aware something heavy fell on top of him. It was slumped over, having been pushed to the side when he sat up. Before Benji could wrap his mind around what was happening he was embraced awkwardly by two pairs of arms. Grandpa and Tyler were connected to the arms and they both looked distraught and weepy.

Intelligently, Benji said, "Huh?"

"Thank God you're alright," Grandpa was saying over and over.

Likewise, Tyler was repeating, "You're okay, you're okay," in rain man fashion.

Benji was still dazed. If Grandpa and Tyler were here, that meant the figure slumped beside him was . . . .

"Sarah!?" Grandpa exclaimed. He roughly pushed Tyler aside and turned the limp form over. It was Sarah, but she looked pale and sickly and seemed to be breathing heavily even though she wasn't awake. Grandpa began hastily checking her over. He was holding back tears.

"What's going on?" Benji asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

But no one was listening to him. Both Tyler and Grandpa were trying to wake Sarah up and a tall, skinny bedraggled guy rushed up as well. The rough looking guy had one hand bound in a makeshift splint, but he tried to reach for Sarah with the other. Grandpa shoved him away.

"This is you're doing, beast," he declared angrily. "If she's . . .," Grandpa faltered, "hurt, then I hold you responsible."

"She's alive." Tyler interrupted the argument. "She's just unconscious." He looked at Benji sadly. "I don't know what that means, but her heartbeat's steady." The scruffy guy tried to approach again and Grandpa cut him off.

"You stay away from her," he growled. "You've done your part and have been released from the boundary. Get the hell out of here."

"I think you'd better leave," Tyler put in, more calmly than Grandpa.

The man gazed concernedly at Sarah, but eventually he nodded to Tyler and disappeared into the shadows. Grandpa's shoulders sagged in relief.

"Who was that guy?" Benji demanded. Grandpa turned his attention to Benji.

"No one," he said, settling heavily on the ground next to Benji and Sarah.

Tyler answered him more directly. "That was Left Paw," he said, "he's a . . . friend." Grandpa snorted derisively. "I'll tell you about it later," Tyler promised.

"What's going on here?" Benji insisted. The last thing he remembered was . . . Thana. He looked down at his chest, the spot where the needle pierced him was bandaged and he ripped the dressing away, but there was nothing beneath it. "I'm alright," he said incredulously. Although he was shirtless, there didn't seem to be scratch on him.

"Looks that way," Grandpa reiterated.

Benji examined his hands and arms. There wasn't a mark on him, from anything. He felt the back of his head. His hair was still singed, but the sore burned spot was gone. He was fine, as if it never happened.

"You remember what happened?" Grandpa asked him.

"I guess so," Benji replied. "Unless it was all a dream." Looking around him, he didn't think that was likely, though. They were somewhere in the wilderness, in a small rocky clearing ringed with sparse trees and shrubs. Two tents were set up and a campfire was dying off to Benji's right. Tyler leaned over him, examining Benji with a flashlight.

"Amazing," his brother breathed. "Could Mom do stuff like that?" he asked Grandpa.

Before the old man could answer, Benji interrupted. "Mom!? Where is she?!" He scrambled to his feet peering desperately around the campsite. Grandpa stood, too, and put his hands on Benji's shoulders in restraint.

"She's not here, Benjamin," he said gruffly.

"She's dead," Tyler said brutally, still sitting on the ground next to Sarah.

"No!" Benji cried. "I made a deal," he said angrily. "She has to be here. Thana gave me her word." He tore his shoulders from Grandpa's grasp. "You," he pointed meanly at his grandfather, "You ruined it! You all did. I was going to get her back," Benji wailed, sitting abruptly. "I almost had her back," his voice trailed off, swallowed up by the trees.

"No," Tyler said roughly, turning to Benji from where he sat. "What you almost did was get yourself killed."

Benji shook his head. "I wasn't going to die," he insisted. "I just had to give up something and Mom would be home. Just one little thing, but you couldn't let me do it could you?"

"No we couldn't," Grandpa answered solemnly, stepping between the brothers. "Benji, if Thana had succeeded in extracting even a small part of your soul, she would be free," he tried to explain. Benji focused his gaze on the dirt. "She might have broken your bargain and not done anything for your mother or worse. She could have brought Annie back and enslaved her." Benji shook his head in denial, but Grandpa kept going. "Necromancy is the darkest of arts. Even a sane Necromancer would have twisted your request or betrayed you completely. And I think we can all agree that sanity wasn't something Thana possessed in great abundance," he added.

"What's the point?" Benji asked suddenly. "Why did you tell us about any of this if nothing can ever be done to change things? Why do good people have to die?" He punched the ground fiercely to illustrate his frustration.

"Oh, yeah," Tyler muttered, "hitting the ground is going to solve everything."

Grandpa growled a warning at him and Tyler subsided. "I don't know why," the old man answered Benji. "Not many do, even the wisest among us have questions."

"It's not fair," Benji said.

"Sure isn't," Grandpa agreed, "but that's the way it is."

"I don't accept that!"

"Then you'll spend the rest of your life wrapped in anger, hate and disappointment," Grandpa said. "And those that care for you the most will be the ones to get hurt." Grandpa left it at that and went over to rummage in a group of packs lined up against a boulder. Benji didn't see his backpack anywhere, but he couldn't really come up with a lot regret for having lost it.

His grandfather returned with a sleeping bag and a light blanket. Together, Tyler and Grandpa carefully laid Sarah on the sleeping bag and covered her with the blanket. They spent a few minutes in murmured conversation and Benji became annoyed at being left out.

"What happened to her?" he asked.

Tyler turned. "She saved you," he said simply.

Benji wandered over to them and looked down at his pale sister. She was cringing and shivering as if in the throes of a bad dream. "How?" he asked dispassionately.

"Sarah is special," Grandpa said. Benji snorted and Tyler glared at him. "She inherited a gift from your mother," he explained. "Sarah used it, at unknown cost, to heal you."

Grandpa abruptly changed the subject, telling the brothers to get some sleep. "We've a long way to go tomorrow. We need to get home and get to a doctor," he said. "I'll stay up with Sarah," he assured Tyler.

Tyler looked worriedly at Sarah's shadowed figure. "We could really use a good cell phone signal right about now," he lamented.

Grandpa smiled at him reassuringly and Tyler nodded in return. He grabbed a few things from his pack and crawled into a tent. Grandpa directed Benji to an extra t-shirt and he shucked it on and slid into the adjacent tent. He heard Grandpa shuffling around, stoking the campfire, and settling next to Sarah.

Benji writhed around, trying to get comfortable. He wasn't very tired. In fact, he felt weirdly rested. He supposed he had Sarah to thank for that. Resentment slithered through him. Why would she go and do something like that? What did she have to gain? She shouldn't even have been there. None of them should have come. Benji was fine, it would have worked out just fine. But his resentment couldn't mask the doubt. Had he been so wrong? A voice mingling with cricket sounds and night breezes floated across his mind. _Yes, he had_ , it whispered. _Wrong_ , it said. _You were so very wrong_.

### *****

### Chapter 32: Eulogy

### *****

The lake was smooth and glassy in the sunlight. Sarah bent down and created a ripple with a light touch. She watched the rings of movement spread out, larger and wider, in an arc from her position on the shore. It was a beautiful day and it was a terrible day. July fifteenth, the anniversary of Mom's death.

Sarah marveled and shuddered at the turns her life had taken. Everyone, including Tyler and Benji, now treated her like a precious ornament. It was driving her mad. She had finally overcome her grief, her fear, and she became someone else entirely. She was a stronger and wiser Sarah than the sad and lonely person who had come to the sanctuary. But that didn't matter to anyone else. She wasn't safe.

She was still tired much of the time. Sarah only hazily recalled the trip back to the manor and her subsequent stay at the hospital in Natalie. After spending a few days there for observation, Sarah was relieved to get home, but she was ordered bed rest for another week. The doctor determined she was suffering from extreme exhaustion as well as dehydration and malnutrition. Grandpa explained it away by saying they had gone hiking and Sarah got lost. A bad fall accounted for the gash on Grandpa's head as well as the wound on the back of Sarah's. It was simple and believable and no one asked them about soul-stealing Immortals.

Aunt Rachel called Todd to tell him about the crisis, but Sarah's father was distracted and distant. He didn't mention Benji's birthday, the Fourth of July holiday, or the upcoming anniversary. Sarah tried to tell him about recent events. She expressed her concern for Benji, who was unaccountably quiet lately, but Todd cut her off. He said they were all fine and Grandpa Lee would take care of them. Sarah stared at the phone like it was an alien thing, but the real alien was on the other end of the line. Todd stopped being her father and had become something else, too, she thought. Without saying anything more, she handed the phone back to Aunt Sarah.

She knew both Tyler and Benji also spoke to their father but none of them discussed it. Instead, they filled the silences with inane conversation or busied their hands with chess pieces.

Eventually, Benji told everyone his tale of dark trees and fairies and fire breathing mice. Sarah could tell the adventure still excited him, but his doubts and guilt swirled shadows across his face and darkened his eyes. He apologized roughly to Sarah the day she came home from the hospital.

His voice was harsh and the words tumbled out like bricks out of a wheel barrow. "I'm sorry," he said, looking away, "for everything and for making you . . . do whatever."

Sarah wasn't really angry with him. She knew Tyler was, but somehow she was just grateful he was okay. "It's alright," she said.

"It's not," Benji corrected sharply, glaring at her.

"Okay . . . ," she amended. "Maybe it isn't, but you've got my forgiveness anyway," she told him gently. He looked somewhere between yelling and crying, but instead gave her a rough hug and slipped out of the room.

Benji didn't say much after that. He offered to play chess with her occasionally, but mostly they didn't talk. There was no bragging or boasting from him and he spent most of his time whispering to Marvin. Slowly, he was coming out of his shell again, but he, too, had changed. He was infinitely more reserved and cautious. Sarah supposed that was a good thing, but she hoped he'd retain a little of his sense of humor and his sense of fun and adventure. Although she freely admitted, it was nice not having to worry about him for the moment. And Tyler, too.

Sarah's older brother had now taken on that responsibility of worry. He watched over her, asked after her, and did the same for Benji, though he was still angry with their young brother. Tyler was trying to look out for them and she couldn't fault him for it, even it did annoy her.

She sighed and sat on the stone bench at the pavilion. It was amazing how tired a short walk made her. She resented the weakness, but could do little about it. Sarah closed her eyes and leaned her head back, cradling the trio of sunflowers she held gently.

Yesterday, she tried swimming with little success. The other teenagers were splashing around, vigorously dunking each other, but Sarah only drifted, treading water until she tired. She laid in the sunshine soaking in the warmth and Benji and Tyler came and took the loungers on either side of her. They asked if she was alright and she reassured them both with her eyes still closed. Surprisingly, though, they stayed and talked with her rather than getting back into the pool.

Jessie and Adam's laughter provided a pleasant backdrop to the conversation. But topics soon turned mournful. All three of them were aware of the date— what the next day would bring. They softly admitted to each other that they missed their mother, their old life. The sadness was at odds with the sunny day and the peals of laughter echoing from the pool. Together, the siblings decided to do something to remember their mother and to mark the day.

This was why Sarah was out here today. They made a plan to meet at the pavilion behind the hedge maze. Sarah went early, sneaking out under too many watchful eyes, to be alone and unwatched for a few moments. But she soon felt someone's gaze on her. She opened her eyes, expecting Benji or Tyler or even San. Instead, a red wolf sat at the edge of the lake, watching her intently.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, startled. Grandpa did not renege on his deal with the hunter, he was free to roam. Sarah hadn't seen him though, not since the night she healed Benji.

"Watching you," he answered bluntly in his rough, sandpaper voice.

"You do know that's not exactly comforting?" she challenged.

"You must be kept safe," he replied. Since this seemed to be the general consensus in her life right now, she just shook her head at the shaggy figure in front of her.

"I never thanked you," said Sarah. "You helped us and if you hadn't intervened I wouldn't have been able to heal Benji."

"Don't," the wolf growled sharply. "There should be no thanks. A selfish beast does not need or deserve your gratitude."

"I don't think it was selfish of you," she told him.

His wolfish grin bared sharp teeth and Sarah couldn't hold back the trickle of fear running down her spine. "But it was," he corrected. He circled the stone bench watching her closely. "You see," he continued, "I have hope that, one day, you will heal me." Before Sarah could respond, Galen was off, running into the trees. She stared after him, speculation swirling in her mind.

She was still lost in thought when Tyler ambled out of the trees towards the lake. Benji soon followed and the siblings met beneath the sheltering stone pavilion.

### *****

Tyler watched the wolf race past him into the woods. Left Paw's form disappeared into the shadows, but Tyler didn't think the wolf had gone far. He caught glimpses of him here and there, just outside the tree line, ever since Sarah came back from the hospital. It worried him.

He didn't trust the wolfman. Tyler wasn't sure he trusted anyone, lately. It was like darkness was creeping up on them, surrounding them just out of sight. But Tyler didn't want to get caught by surprise— he wanted to be ready when the shadows struck. He kept a sharp eye on his siblings, especially Sarah. He wished fervently that his mother was here, if only to tell him what to look out for, what to do.

Sighing, Tyler strode out of his hiding place amid the trees, hoping he looked nonchalant. He didn't want Sarah to know he had been watching her.

She looked up as he approached, smiling tiredly.

"Pretty day, isn't it?" she greeted him.

"Very," Tyler agreed. "Mom would have liked it here." Sarah nodded and then looked beyond him. Tyler turned to see Benji picking his way along the stepping stones.

"Sorry I'm late," he said sheepishly.

"No big deal." Tyler let him off the hook. He was still nursing a decent mad for Benji, but today wasn't the day to show it.

"Here," Sarah said, handing them each a bright and happy sunflower. Tyler helped her stand and the three went to the edge of the lake. They stood, each holding on to memories, gazing into the crystalline water.

"So what do we do?" Benji finally asked. "Say something? Pray?"

"I think we just remember," Sarah said softly. "That's enough."

"No," Tyler said with a shake of his head. "We have to let go, too." Tyler looked at the bright and cheery flower in his hand. Annie liked sunflowers. His mother. Someone stronger and braver than he ever knew, but also someone gone. A presence on the edge of the wind now, beyond the shadows. He hoped she was in a lighter place, a place of brightness and safety. He tightened his grip on the thick green stem before relaxing his fingers and letting the flower drop. It hit the lake's surface with a tiny plop, spinning and dancing atop the ripples.

"She's really gone," Benji said quietly. "I don't know if I ever believed it before."

"We know," answered Sarah. She laid a hand on Benji's shoulder and Tyler did the same, ruffling his little brother's hair. Benji swung his sunflower out over the water in a bright yellow arc and it landing with a spinning splash near the lake's center.

"I'm afraid," Sarah admitted softly, "but I'm stronger now, too. I'm glad Mom gave me something I can't give back." Her jaunty flower floated out of her hands gently, carried away on a slight breeze. She watched it fall in silence, before looking up at Tyler. "Even if it is dangerous," she said, meeting his eyes, "I'm still glad." Tyler and Benji nodded. New things were taking shape. Their lives were different now, irreparably different.

Benji began to shift in discomfort and the trio separated. He mumbled something about helping Marvin and hurried back through the maze. Sarah stayed a little longer and Tyler asked if she needed help getting back to the manor. She waved him off and made her own way back, walking sluggishly through the trees.

Tyler stayed at the shore's edge until the afternoon light dimmed. The day was beginning to wane. Shadows lengthened. Tyler headed back to the house in the encroaching twilight, lost in thought. Some part of their lives was over, finished. But he didn't feel very hopeful about what was beginning. There was a danger, a darkness slithering just beneath the surface of the wonder and magic. They would be lucky if the next part of their lives didn't end with anyone's untimely death.

His grim thoughts were briefly chased away by the bright lights gleaming inside the manor. He entered through the kitchen, listening to dinner preparations under way. Jessie was complaining about chores, Marvin sparkled blue near the stove and Aunt Rachel was laughing at something Uncle Matt said. Benji was playing chess with Grandpa at the kitchen table and Sarah came in as Tyler shut the back door. She smiled brightly, though there were shadows under her eyes. Tyler smiled back, but the shadows did not recede. He felt them, just beyond the kitchen door, gathering themselves _, waiting_.
