The Fallen Prince

Keepers of Life - 2

by

Shea Berkley

To Mama and Papa

You always wondered what I was thinking, lying on the grass staring up at the sky.

Now you know.

Seeing

What is real? Is it only those things the eyes can see, or is it more?

The wind whispers all around us, invisible but real.

Emotions, gravity, oxygen, God—these are intangibles, unseen, but felt. Real because we believe in the daily evidence of their existence that surrounds us. But what if what you believe is so unorthodox you find yourself pulling away from the evidence?

What do you do when an ancient power rumbles within you…and you deny its release?

Awake

Cool air whispers against my bedroom window, seeping through the thin stretch of cheap glass to chill my skin. It’s been nearly a month since I was raised from the dead. I’m no zombie, but I don’t feel…right. I see the expanse of lawn and the back fence outside. I hear the wind slip through the woods beyond, and the gentle baaing of sheep. When Mom dropped me off at my grandparents’ sheep ranch in the fastest kiss-off of all time, I felt unloved. Abandoned.

How has this place of misty woods and magic become home in such a short time? It’s a feeling I’ve always feared. Usually when that comfy feeling sneaks in, it gets ripped away. But Mom’s not here to order a pack-and-go. I’ve got a whole other set of messed-up crazies to deal with. To look at it, you wouldn’t know, but this place is the gateway to another place, one that uses magic like we use McDonald’s for a quick hunger fix.

I get it. I used to lean on Kera, the girl from my dreams, an imaginary friend I created when I was young to help ease my loneliness. Not until I set foot in Oregon did I find out she was more than what my imagination could create. She was perfect and solid…and real. The girl from my dreams, the girl I’ve loved since I was in kindergarten, actually exists, and she wants me as much as I want her.

I stretch my hand out in front of me, seeing its reflection in the thin glass, and my vision blurs before I refocus and flex my fingers into a fist. All I want right now is sleep, but every time I blink, I get a flashing glimpse of what’s awaiting me in my dreams. It’s nothing good.

I’m haunted by a man, tattered and dirty, surrounded by hateful little glowing creatures called pux. There isn’t a “Hey, dude, can you spare me a fiver” quality about him. He always looks ready to skin me, fillet me, and spread me out for his little friends to eat. Freddy Krueger with all his visual scariness can’t touch the intensity of that man’s gaze.

There’s a realness to my dreams I can’t shake.

He knows my name is Dylan. Knows exactly who and what I am.

I’ve dealt with those who’ve wanted me and everyone I cared about dead, and now they’re the ones six feet under. After that, you’d think I wouldn’t be scared of anything. Apparently there are different levels of fear, ’cause I’m scared—scared of a man from a dream who stands in front of a collection of dead sticks and stares at me.

Laughs at me. Threatens me.

With my life history of being the wrong guy, in the wrong place, at the wrong time, you’d think a little mocking and a nasty threat wouldn’t faze me. But it does.

I stagger away from my bedroom window. I’m not sure I can continue without sleep for much longer.

The backs of my knees hit the side of the mattress, and I slump to the bed. I stare out the window, my mind grasping for a reason to stay awake.

Grandpa says the iron we stationed near the barrier to the firsts’ realm is working—iron poisons them, weakens those with first blood—but how would he know? I know first magic is powerful—I’ve experienced it in all its beauty and ugliness. It can keep a first’s true self hidden. Make them invisible. They could be close, and we’d not even know it.

My spine feels like butter under hot syrup, and without me realizing it, I’m flat on my back, my legs dangling over the edge of the bed, arms dead at my sides. The dips and swirls of the ceiling blur, and my eyelids droop. I curl my fingers against the sheets, fighting the inevitable.

And then it happens. My body yields, and I’m quickly swept along a tunnel of darkness. When my sleep-induced journey spits me out, my subconscious is beyond the wall that separates the human realm from the first realm. The dream takes me deep within the first forest to the place where singed wood and burned shrubs lie. It’s where that man brought me in a similar dream, but more importantly, it’s the place I destroyed to save my friends. I see my handprint nestled against a blackened tree trunk. See scores of dead firsts, the spirits of the pux burned to a crisp. When they notice me, they scatter, fearful of what else I’m capable of doing.

I don’t want to be here. My mind commands me to leave, but my feet won’t let me go. I slowly spin around and move deeper into the burned circle to a lump of damaged, twisted tree roots.

Jason.

A movie-buff wrestler who loved to play video games and stupid pranks. Typical all-American guy. He wasn’t prepared for Teag. None of us were.

I have few friends. Jason’s one of two who know who I really am. What I am. He accepted me…and this is how I repaid him.

Right here. This is where he died. This is where I buried him to keep his body safe from the pux. I kneel and place my hand against the roots. The pain at causing Jason’s death eats at me, its predatory jaws tearing through my soul like a raging bear. I close my eyes against the hurt. I never should’ve brought him into this realm. This wasn’t his fight.

Why has this dream brought me to this place? Is it to torture me? Am I to ask forgiveness? What’s the point? No matter what Kera says, I don’t deserve mercy. I don’t deserve forgiveness for what I’ve done.

With my head bowed and my knees digging into the damaged soil, a flash of heat burns against my palm. The roots flare, glowing bright. A sudden crack rips across the intertwined clump. I fall back just as Jason explodes from his grave with a loud growl. His chest heaves and his gaze is filled with a wildness I’ve never seen before.

I blink at him like a child seeing a circus performer leap through fire unscathed. He’s alive?

“Jason?” My voice is low. Unsure.

He doesn’t acknowledge me, only stands there, his massive, wrestler-honed body trembling.

I brave his crazed expression and take a step closer. My hand gives an odd tremble before I place it on his shoulder. He feels solid. More than alive. He’s thrumming with energy. I give the bulk of muscle a light squeeze. His attention is instantly on me.

“Dude,” I rasp. “I didn’t forget. I swear I’m coming back for you.”

He leans forward, his face inches from mine. “Then do it.” His voice rumbles from deep within his chest. “Time’s running out.”

I suddenly spin away into a dark void, and when next I take a breath, I’m in my room, awake. The ragged sound of my breathing is the only thing I hear. Sweat clings to my skin, and I pop upright. Oh my God. Jason is alive? I buried my friend alive!

I rub at my eyes, struggling with the horror of what I’ve done. But it can’t be true. I saw him die. I know without a doubt he’s dead. Something is definitely not right…

But what if he is alive, waiting for me to dig him out of the ground? Who could survive being buried alive for what…two weeks?

No one could survive. When I buried him, he was blue-lipped, no heartbeat, no-question-about-it dead. I tried to heal him, but I couldn’t. Healing is Kera’s gift, not mine.

Within the stillness of the room, my voice grates out the only plausible truth. “It was just a dream. A dream.” But it sounds hollow, filled with doubt. Dreams are like that. They can mess with your mind until you think that what you know is true, isn’t.

I scrub my hands through my hair and glance out the window to see the darkness race away from the dawn. I tell myself again, “It was just a dream.”

This time it rings true. Jason is gone. No matter how much I wish it undone, he’s dead. And it was all my fault. I have to keep my promise. I have to go back to Teag, to that place of magic and pain and death, and bring Jason home. If I don’t, Jason will haunt me until I do.

Part One

Be aware.

The rumbling of lies can sound like truth.

Disappearing

Dinner is over, and I slouch onto the porch swing. I should be one damaged piece of flesh. Thanks to Kera and the healing power she stole from Navar, there are only a few, faint visible scars on my skin, scars that could’ve appeared from a skateboarding accident or a rough game of football. No one would know I’ve been skewered and sliced by an angry mob of mythological creatures. That I have to go back, that I have to tell Kera I have to go back…

Outwardly, I’m normal, but something’s changed within me. I keep chasing after what’s different, but it stays one heartbeat ahead. If I think too long about it, my head aches.

Maybe the odd feeling is the reawakening of life. Of being out of the ICU at Mercy Hospital and back home. Back where everyone stares at me.

Today’s newspaper lies abandoned on the porch swing next to me. I see the headline dashed across the front page: One dead. One missing. Where is Jason Delgato? The article asks if the two events that happened in less than a week are related. The reporter even suggests Jason had something to do with Pop’s death, and that’s why he ran. Guilt rips through me. I know what really happened, and Jason’s family needs to know. Soon.

I angrily kick out, dragging my sneakers across the porch floor as I swing back. The night air cools my skin. I feel hotter than usual, like I’ve buried something that wants to come out. I’m so not me right now. I don’t know what to think or how to feel. I’m lost—something I’ve never been before. Ignored, yes. Unloved, absolutely. But lost? Never.

The heat crawls from the pit of my stomach along my ribs and down my right bicep. I hold out my arm and rub at it. The sensation of heat continues to prickle down into my palm.

A flame bursts to life.

The swing stutters to a stop. What the…?

The reddish-orange flame spits and bites and curls into itself. I snap my fist closed, snuffing it out.

My chest rises and falls, an erratic movement that squeezes air out more than lets it in. I can’t look away from my hand, like it’s suddenly not my own, like some mad scientist has interchanged my hand for some high-tech flaming one.

I’m not normal. I never have been, but this is crazy strange.

I get hold of myself and slow my breathing. The center of my palm itches. Is it burned? Scarred? Is the fire just waiting for oxygen to snap back to life? I crack my fingers open and peer beneath. Nothing. My fist tightens in panic. Did I imagine it?

No way. I’m not delusional. That’s Mom’s specialty. She’s the one who acts like she’s in some drama-laced, badly acted indie film about life on the edge. Breakdowns are her specialty. The more I think about her, and what she’s done, the more the heat builds in my belly.

I unfold my fist and the fire reappears. I can feel the air heat around it.

“It can’t be real,” I say even as I watch the flame flicker and roil, expecting to feel the burn of pain. Nothing.

I died once…sort of. More like, was given a time-out for being an idiot. I’ve been given another chance, and it seems like I’m going down the same crazy road I did last time.

If this is real, I can control it. Bend it. Shape it.

I tell the flame to crawl along my finger to the tip. It does. I stare at the dancing light. Wow, pretty freakin’ awesome.

I roll it along each joint like a coin trick at a magic show. I bounce it back and forth between my palms. Sparks fly and flutter to the porch, where a few singe the wood. I call it back to my finger and burn my name into the armrest of the swing. The heat is so strong, I accidently burn through the wood. The hole smolders around the edges, the perfect beginning to a porch fire.

I stare at my hand. Glowing while I used my magic was bad enough, but being lit on fire is a whole new level of weird. I shake my hand, but instead of putting out the fire, a fireball spits toward the yard where the impact creates a basketball-sized hole. Another fireball hits the railing. Flames sputter and grow along the wood. I jump up and snuff out the flames with my bare hands. Smoke curls and slowly disappears. Grandpa’s gonna be pissed when he sees that.

A flicker reappears in my palm. I sag back onto the swing and glare at my hand. Like I don’t have enough problems. Why this? Why now?

The screen door bangs shut and I freeze. Kera stands outside the door, her long legs sprouting out of a pair of cut-off jean shorts, her shirt a flowing wisp of fabric that skims her hip bones. Her eyes lock on my hand and the flame dancing there. Hesitantly, she steps closer until she’s within reach. I can see the fire’s reflection in her horrified eyes.

“It doesn’t burn,” I say.

She doesn’t say anything, only grasps my hand and rolls my fingers closed. The flame quietly dies.

“It’s weird, I know, but that doesn’t mean something’s wrong.”

“No, Dylan. Something is wrong.” A strange look enters her eyes, like she no longer knows who I am.

I’ve never known Kera to be afraid. Her strength is what gave me hope when I couldn’t go on. She was the only one who cared for me back then, and right now I need her to see me, not dwell on the weird shit that’s going on. “It’s okay. It’s just a little fire.”

“You can pretend all you want, but something is not right about us.”

I stand and take her stiff body into my arms. She left her realm, her family and friends, her entire world and everything that’s ever made sense to her, to be with me. It’s something I never thought she’d do. I’ve got to stop thinking of me and be there for her.

“There’s nothing wrong with us,” I say. “We’re good. It’s just the power. Neither of us is used to it yet.”

She struggles free and backs away. “That isn’t it. In Teag, there is a sickness that can cause a first’s power to surge. It lies dormant for years, but under the right circumstances, it flares to life. My father and everyone else would lock themselves away when it did. They live in fear of it because the surge is primeval. In some, it causes pain. In others, they cause pain to those around them.”

“This,” I say, nodding to my hand, “it doesn’t hurt. I’m not in pain, Kera, and I’m not going to hurt you or anyone else.”

“Everyone says that. There are stories. Bad stories…”

“What has that got to do with us? We took this magic. It wasn’t brought on by someone sneezing in our faces. We just need to get used to what we have. Instead of ignoring it, sooner or later you’re going to have to accept what’s been given to you.”

“You’re right.” She rubs her forehead. “I’m not communicating this well. You say it’s a blessing. I’m not so sure. There’s something more going on inside us, like an infection, but we’re not sick; we’re changed. Really changed. I’ve wanted to be like everyone else for so long, and here it is finally inside me…but I hesitate in using it. We took it. It’s not ours. It’s stolen magic, and stolen magic—”

She suddenly stops and focuses on my hand. Her look of horror morphs into one of fear, and it’s directed straight at me. She turns and heads for the woods, a ghost of a shadow in the fading light.

“Kera,” I yell, but she doesn’t stop. “Damn it, Kera! Stop!”

What the hell is wrong with her? She just said she got what she’s always wanted. Why is she acting like it’s the worst thing ever? No, like I’m the worst thing ever.

The screen door slams again and Grandpa stops next to me. His hand falls on my shoulder. “What’s all the yelling about?”

His hand feels heavy, restraining. Controlling. I’m not one of his war buddies he can boss around. I’ve got things under control. I shrug his hand off. “I don’t know, she just left.”

That she didn’t stop when I called irritates me far more than it should, but I can’t help it. She should listen to me. Bad stuff happens because she doesn’t listen. I take off after her amid Grandpa’s call to leave well enough alone. Anger bubbles up inside me, and I flip him off before I slam the back gate open and head for the woods.

I should’ve known using the bird was a bad idea. Grandpa’s not one to let an insult lie. Being a cop, and a kick-ass war veteran, he expects to be shown some respect. And he should. He’s earned it. But I’m not in the mood to humor anyone, and now I’m getting chased down by a guy who knows how to kill a man with his bare hands without the use of any magic. That scares even me.

There’s only one thing to do. I speed up. If a guy has powers, he should use them, and I race away from Grandpa, following the scent of summer with an underlying aroma of burned sugar, a sure sign of Kera’s sorrow and fear. That she might be afraid of me, of what I can do, doesn’t sit well. It doesn’t matter how fast I run, I can’t seem to catch her. I pause in a clearing and reach out with my senses. Her trail has suddenly gone cold. I call, yelling her name over and over. She doesn’t answer. It’s like Mom all over again. One minute you’re talking, the next she disappears without an explanation. Why am I always the one getting left behind?

The heat I felt on the swing swirls in my belly and crawls under my skin. My new power rockets through me so easily, driving up my frustration and anger. In no time, fire erupts, engulfing my whole body. I’m a walking torch. The ground beneath my feet sizzles and smokes. This isn’t good. I know it, but I can’t stop. This isn’t me.

This uncontrollable monster that I’ve become since finding out I’m a first isn’t me.

A sudden whack, and a burst of pain explodes in my head. I crumple to my knees before I pass out. When I claw my way back to consciousness, I’m bobbing upside down through the forest. The ugly work boots. The worn jeans. I know who’s carrying me. Grandpa has me slung over his shoulder. I struggle to be free, but he slams his meaty palm on my backside. “Settle down. You, son, are a problem no one around here can afford to ignore.”

I’m a problem? Great. I get how being dumped unexpectedly on their porch without them knowing I existed would test their hospitality. And when they found out I wasn’t even human, well…that would give anyone second thoughts. Deep down, I knew it was only a matter of time before the newness of having me around wore off and he’d want me gone, but honestly, I didn’t think it would happen this soon. Did Grandma feel the same?

“What do you mean?” I say, my throat raw, my voice thick.

“Don’t tell me you don’t remember.”

I don’t. The pain in my head is killing me. I gingerly touch the back of my head and the lump that’s there. “Did you hit me?”

“Damn straight, I did. You were mad as hell and burning a hole in the ground. I’m not overexaggerating when I say you could’ve burned down another stretch of forest with that trick. I’m putting the law down right here, right now. Fire is off-limits. Do you hear me?”

“What are you talking about?”

Grandpa stops and dumps me on my feet, steadying me so I won’t fall. I spy the house through the trees. The old man has nearly carried me all the way home. I’m impressed and a little surprised. I take a good look at him.

A deep scowl digs into his face. “Your imitation of the burning man…you don’t remember doing that?”

“No.”

“Kera running off. You following. Me following you because—”

“I flipped you the bird.” I’m an idiot. A flaming hotheaded idiot.

“So you remember now.”

“Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m not like that. I never get mad.”

“Well, you do now, and I’m not too keen on the new you.”

“Trust me. Neither am I.” The woods are silent and I don’t like what that implies. “Did you see Kera?”

“Nope. We’ll see her when she wants to be seen.”

That kind of blind faith freaks me out. I’ve got to let go and believe he’s right.

Whatever Kera was trying to tell me, I think I understand a bit of it. “Ever since I went to Teag, things are different. Inside me. And now there’s this fire. It showed up out of the blue.”

Grandpa grabs my arm and pulls up my T-shirt sleeve to reveal the glowing silver brand. The death mark Sidon the Torturer gave me. Grandpa’s fingers brush it, and he pulls away. “Still hot. Whatever’s going on, it’s not natural. But that doesn’t mean you give in to your emotions like a spoiled brat.”

He’s right, but I don’t like hearing it. I push down my sleeve, disturbed to see it glowing. It’s never done that before. In fact, it’s glowing so brightly now, it singes the material of my sleeve. I pull the fabric back up.

Grandpa’s voice turns rough. “What’s going on with that?”

“I don’t know.” The whole thing is smoking. I rub it, and when I do, the ground beneath our feet rumbles, shaking pine needles from the nearby trees, then stops.

Grandpa assesses the nearby damage and looks back at me, at my hand hovering over the glowing mark. “Tell me you didn’t do that.”

“No.” At least I don’t think I did. I take a deep breath and let it slowly out. The glow of my silver brand is fading, and I feel calm now.

Suddenly my brand flares, and the previous rumble seems tame compared to the deep shakes that toss us off our feet. Grandpa finds his footing, grabs the back of my shirt and yanks me to my feet. “Move it!” he yells.

I barely get ten feet away when the ground opens up and a fleshy pink spike spins its way out of the ground. Covered in loose dirt and as long as a city bus, it slips its body forward. A flap near the base of the spike flips up to reveal a huge eye. Blue as the sky, the eye looks around until it falls on me. The spike cracks open and spits forth more than a dozen bloodred tongues. Grandpa lets go of me and we split apart, each diving out of the way as the tongues snap toward us.

The house is so close. If I could just make it there and get my sword, I could do some real damage to this thing. Even as I think it, I see Kera racing toward us, my sword in her hand and a look of panic on her face. Grandma, Leo, the only friend I have besides Kera, and Leo’s dad, Reggie, are right behind her.

The creature’s head turns my way, its tongues lashing the air and scouring deep grooves into the tree trunks as it does. Grandpa grabs a long, thin, pointed tree branch and chucks it Spartan-style at the creature’s eye. A glasslike film closes over the eye at the last second and the branch bounces away. I bend fully grown trees and slam them on its wriggling back, but a thick armor lies under the dirt clinging to its body.

“Forget what I said before,” Grandpa yells. “Fire up, son.”

I call fire to my palm and spit a thin stream at the monster. Not even a scorch mark appears. I try several more times with the same results. What the hell is wrong with me that when I need to bring the heat, nothing happens?

Kera throws my sword, tip over hilt, and it lands in the dirt at my feet. I pick it up and it flames to life. I spin free of one of the tongues, whirl around, and sear the tongue off. The creature lets out a mournful scream. I may have hurt it, but I’ve also ticked it off.

Reggie reaches Grandpa and chucks him a huge pump-action shotgun that holds ten rounds and a box of slugs. They each lock their bullets in their chambers, point, and fire. The gunshots split the air, again and again as they circle the monster, trying to find a weak spot, but its armor is too thick.

One of the tongues wraps around Leo’s left arm. He stabs a sturdy kitchen knife into the tough flesh of the tongue and slips free. Yet his skin is red where the tongue had been, like he’s been attacked by a jellyfish, and he doubles over in pain. Reggie is beside his son in an instant. His back is to the monster, a big mistake. I speed their way, and just as a tongue is about to grab him, I slash it clean through. Reggie whips around, his shotgun primed and aimed at me. There’s a flash of indecision, no thanks for saving his life, only wondering if he should end mine. I don’t stay close, and I, refocus on the monster. Another tongue lashes out and lifts Grandpa into the air. He fires his shotgun and shatters the monster’s eye shield.

The multi-tongued glorified worm opens its mouth wide as it brings Grandpa close. Somehow Grandpa reloads and empties his rounds into the monster. “I’m out of ammo,” he yells and tomahawks the gun into the monster’s gaping maw.

Grandma screams and a look of horror clouds her face. She thinks he’ll die, but I won’t let that happen.

A rush of anger starts to burn in my gut. I run and jump, cutting through the base of several tongues, praying one of them holds Grandpa. Another unearthly cry rips the air and Grandpa is quickly slammed to the ground and rolls, cradling his arm as if it’s been broken. Grandma rushes to him and helps him hobble free of the fight.

I whip around and search for Kera. I see Reggie pushing Leo behind him, yelling at his son that he’s too hurt to fight. Grandma has Grandpa, and Kera is…

I finally see her atop the monster’s back, slowly making her way to the monster’s head. “What are you doing?” I yell at her.

She steadies herself as the armored body wriggles beneath her feet. “Blinding it.”

It’s then I see the incordium dagger in her hand. The special blade can cut through any magic, but it looks too small to do much damage. Another tongue lashes toward me and I fight it off, feeling the bite of its sting as I do. When next I look up, the monster bucks, and Kera goes flying. As she falls, she stabs her blade deeply into its head and jerks to a stop. The creature howls and bucks and wriggles in pain while Kera dangles over the open mouth, fighting to pull herself clear.

A tongue lashes up, slaps around one of her legs, and pulls her high into the air, flipping her upside down. Kera gasps against the sting of the tongue on her bare leg, and I see her fight to not scream.

Grandma cries out and turns her head into Grandpa’s shoulder, unable to look. Heat bursts along my skin, and the fire I’d struggled to find suddenly engulfs my hand. Without me even thinking, fire erupts out of me. One fireball after another blasts the monster as I run forward. The creature rumbles with pain, and I feed off that emotion, growing stronger and hotter until I’m on full burn mode.

One moment I’m staring at the monster, the next I’m on my knees, dizzy and gasping for breath. All around me, the earth is burning. I have no idea what just happened. The monster smolders as it sounds a final cry, and Kera is falling. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Reggie dash forward and catch Kera. They both fall to the ground and roll away, just in time to avoid being crushed by the burning carcass. As I move toward them, Reggie pulls Kera to the side and points his gun at me. “Stay back!”

Kera peeks over Reggie’s shoulder, her eyes big as saucers. I stop. The anger melts in me, and I’m just Dylan with no burn, no heat… just confused.

Kera tries to come to me, but Reggie holds her back. “Don’t go near him. Did you see what he did? He almost killed you.”

I can’t believe my ears, but he’s right. In trying to save Kera, I nearly killed her. I feel sick inside. “Kera, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.”

Kera pulls out of Reggie’s hold and comes to me. She touches my chest above my heart. “I’m fine. Really.” She smells of singed hair and skin. I did that to her.

I pull her to me and hug her tightly and say over and over again that I’m sorry.

Grandpa, with Grandma and Leo’s help, hobbles from the forest. Grandma stares at the monster and back at me. “Is everyone all right? I couldn’t look. What happened?”

Reggie storms over to Grandpa, and the look he gives him conveys his disgust. He spears Leo with a hard look and orders him home. Without saying another word, he walks away.

Leo sweeps his thick mop of black hair out of his eyes and glances from me to his dad. “Don’t worry, bro. I got this. He’s freaked out, but he’ll settle down.” And then he trots after his dad.

Kera retrieves her dagger, and while Grandma makes sure Kera’s okay, Grandpa pulls me aside. I nod to his arm. “That doesn’t look good. You okay?”

He glances at where it’s beginning to turn purple from wrist to elbow. “It’s only a bruise. It’ll heal soon enough.”

The man has steel for bones. Seriously, anyone else would be crying like a baby.

He leans closer and lowers his voice so only I can hear. “That thing glommed on to you and only you.” He then gives me a thoughtful look and lifts my sleeve. My brand is normal silver. No glow. No burn. He cocks a heavy eyebrow at me. I know what he’s implying. The council still wants me dead. Did he really think so? After all I’ve done for Teag?

“No,” I whisper to him. “They’re not hunting me. Not anymore.”

“They’d better be, because if they aren’t, we’ve got even bigger trouble. I think your out-of-whack emotions are like a homing device. Tomorrow, we start your training.”

“What kind of training?”

“I’ve got an idea. You’ll see.” He lets go and turns to look at the smoldering monster. “What are we going to do with that? I’m all for barbecue, but the neighbors aren’t going to understand.”

No one’s arguing with him there. I tell everyone to back up, and then I split the ground open underneath the thing and bury it. We all stand there, silent and staring at the mound.

Grandma rubs her arms, as if she’s suddenly cold. “What do you suppose it wanted?”

“I suspect it wanted what every dumb animal wants,” Grandpa says in his gruff, no-nonsense voice. “It got hungry and wandered over.” He throws his arm around Grandma and hugs her close. “I know what you’re thinking. Stop it. Dylan and I will check things out, so no worrying, woman. Let’s go home. I’m suddenly longing for a hot shower and my easy chair.”

Grandma agrees and fusses over Grandpa’s arm, telling him she’ll make him his favorite chocolate cake. He gives her a big kiss on the cheek and throws us a wink. “Getting hurt isn’t so bad when there’s chocolate cake afterward.”

I wish I could agree, but if he’s right, I brought the monster here. It’s just one more thing I have to feel guilty about.

Kera and I lock hands and trudge after them.

“What are you thinking?” she asks.

“About me. About all this and how they’re linked, if they’re linked.” I glance at her, “They’re probably linked. Grandpa wants to help me control my emotions. He’s done nothing but help me since I’ve shown up. I’ve got to learn to trust him.”

It won’t be easy. In my whole entire life, there’s only one person I’ve learned to trust without question. Kera. I squeeze her fingers and she squeezes back. Without her, I’d be lost. Since I’ve found my powers, instead of making things easier, my life has gotten far more complicated. I try not to, but I can’t stop the flicker of hope that Grandpa can help me. I give her a quick recap of what happened after she ran from me, and finish just as we push through the back gate and into the yard. Grandma continues into the house, but before Grandpa goes inside, he asks me, “You okay?”

“Mostly.”

He throws a look that warns me to settle down. Honestly, does he think I’m game for another round of Burn, Baby, Burn?

I hesitate at the top of the steps and pull Kera to a stop. “You ran off.”

She pulls her hand out of mine, and a shiver rakes her body. “You scared me.”

I scared myself.

“Yeah. That was obvious. I didn’t mean to, though.”

“Everything is different,” she says. “The magic that’s in us is not what I expected. It’s different. You playing with that fire… Magic should never be taken lightly. Whatever we do, there are consequences. You need to be careful. We need to be careful.”

She’s the one being careful. I’m being an idiot. I adapted quickly because the magic was always in me. Even borrowing the small bit from her dad couldn’t possibly compare to what she has now, yet she’s thinking ahead.

“You think I drew that thing to us because I got mad and lit up.”

She nods.

“So do I. But you can trust me, Kera. Deep down, I’m the same guy I’ve always been. Yeah, weird stuff is happening, and I’m adjusting as I go, but I will never hurt you.”

She nods, but it doesn’t hold any conviction.

I sigh, knowing I sound ridiculous. I tuck a strand of her long dark hair behind her ear. “From here on out, things will be different. I promise.”

“I believe you, but change is never easy.” Her hand gently glides up my chest until her fingers curl against my cheek. “I should not have taken off like that. I’m sorry.”

The feel of her cool hand on my skin makes me sigh. I kiss her palm and pull her close. She cuddles against me. I stroke her hair. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I didn’t do anything right,” she whispers and lifts her head. “I know I can trust you. I love you.”

Any willpower I might’ve had is gone. I kiss her, feel my chest tighten, and pull her closer. We’ve been through so much together, everyday problems to life-and-death situations. If I ever lost her, I’d die. Seeing her run away made me sick. Made me afraid. I never want to feel that way again. Whatever Grandpa has planned, I’ll do it. No questions asked. I’m desperate to be normal, to live without scaring Kera or myself or anyone else I care about into running off. I make it sound like it’s going to be easy, but I know it’ll be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

I try to not think of the one fact that never changes. Even with my good intentions, my life always ends up on the wrong side of the tracks.

Always.

Scorched Black

It’s late afternoon. I wish I could say I’ve been able to suppress the firebug, but I haven’t. It rears its head at weird times, like when I go to get a snack out of the kitchen. No one is around and the urge strikes, and fire pops to life at the end of my fingertip. I quickly snuff it when someone comes near. I think Kera knows.

Grandma comes into the den, muttering about the smell of something burning in the bathroom. I shy away from her probing stare and decide right then and there I’d spend the rest of the day with Kera, working on being normal.

Her by my side, sitting on the couch watching Cartoon Network...how normal is that? I slant a quick glance at her and end up staring.

Nothing is normal about Kera. Not that she’s weird. She isn’t. Just the opposite. She’s amazing—in a girl-from-another-realm kind of way, sitting there in faded jeans and a fitted T-shirt, looking like every guy’s fantasy come to life.

Kera suddenly leans forward, her violet eyes bright and her mouth softly pursed. The commercial flashes a promise. No more teenage acne. Her head pivots toward mine, spilling her long, unbound dark hair against her knees. Her fingers probe her face. “That girl says I need Forever Clear.”

I lift my right eyebrow and shake my head. “You don’t have acne.”

“Blackheads?”

“Nope.”

She leans closer for my inspection. “Big pores? The girl in the rectangle says they are unsightly. I need her mud to make me beautiful.”

I make a show of really looking, then pull sharply away. “None.”

“Oh.” She turns back to the TV, a pout of disappointment shaping her lips.

Though I try not to, laughter rolls out. “What’s wrong? You should be happy about not having to slap a bunch of mud on your face.”

“But I want to put mud on my face. I want to erase my flaws,” she says and points to the TV, “like that girl does and all the other girls in this realm.”

“You want to be human?”

“I am human, at least part of me is, and I want to know that part.”

I get it now…like I wanted to know the first part of me. While I inherited a whole lot of trouble when my first half emerged, Kera’s human side is destined to be just as disappointed, although in a less heart-thumping manner. It ain’t all that great once the novelty of all our electronic gadgets and gizmos wears off.

I pop a kiss on her perfect nose. “Sorry, babe. You don’t have any flaws.” Well, maybe one. She refuses to take off the incordium dagger her friend gave her. Something about a promise she can’t break. At least I’ve got her tucking it out of sight.

She pushes against my arm and throws me an irritated glare before she turns back to the TV. She thinks I’m teasing, but I’m serious. She’s perfect.

“Everyone has flaws. I know this as fact.” Her voice takes on a mischievous tone. “I know your flaws.”

A small grunt escapes me. “You’re supposed to say I don’t have any, either.”

“That’s right,” she says with a smile. “I can speak all manner of untruths here and not get into trouble.”

I flash her a playful glance. Oh, she’s going down for that one.

Fast as a snap, I wrestle her into the far corner of the couch. With my body draped over hers, my fingers run up and down her sides, eliciting breathless giggles until she lets out a sharp scream. I cover her mouth with mine, muffling her laughter. All too quickly, the giggles subside, and the touch of our lips becomes a far more exciting kiss. I’ve never been able to resist kissing her, and now that we’re living in the same house, I’m finding it really hard to keep my hands and lips to myself.

“Dylan,” Grandma’s voice calls from the kitchen. “Get off that poor girl this minute and behave yourself.”

Can the woman see through walls?

I pull away, but not before I nibble and kiss Kera from ear to collarbone.

She pushes against my chest and rises, but I don’t let go of her arm even though she tries to pull away. Another tug and she looks pleadingly down at me. “Dylan, I should help your grandmother.”

Why is it so hard to let her go? She’s been in my head, in my dreams, for so long, I feel incomplete when she’s not nearby. My hand instinctively jerks her forward until she collapses onto my lap. She’s about to scold me when I deliver a sweet kiss, the kind that makes her smile and not want to leave. As she melts against me, her fingers weave into my hair, but I quickly pull her hands away and set her back on her feet. I wink at her confusion and say in an overly loud voice, “Stop it, Kera! Geesh! Keep your hands to yourself.”

She gasps, and Grandma pops into the doorway with a spoon gripped in her fist. She points it at me; her eyes narrow. “Don’t think for a second I’m falling for that, young man. Leave her be, or I’ll send you out to sleep in the barn.”

My grandma isn’t one of those plump, sweet grandmas you see in movies. Nope, Grandma is a youthful terror who knows how to accurately wield a spoon for maximum damage. I know when to back off.

“Yes, ma’am.” My manner is contrite, but my heart isn’t, and Grandma knows it.

She fusses over Kera as they return to the kitchen. “Don’t let him manhandle you like that, sweetheart.”

“Oh, I do not mind,” comes Kera’s soft, innocent admission.

Hearing that causes a huge grin to attack my face, and my heart gives a little jump.

Grandma’s censor finds me before nudging Kera out of sight. “You should. He’s a wicked boy, our Dylan, and it’s up to us to teach him some self-control.”

“I will try.”

I heave a sigh. Kera loves Grandma and will do anything she tells her to do. I’ll be starved for affection in no time if Grandma has her way. I can just imagine Kera spiraling into a moody teenage girl if I don’t kiss her. Has Grandma thought of that? I don’t think so.

From in the kitchen I hear Grandma talking. “Since you and Dylan arrived, the vegetables in the greenhouse have blossomed. Whatever it is you two are doing, I can’t say I’m upset about it. Unless I should be upset.” She pauses. “What are you two doing in there? Should I be upset?” Scooter, Grandpa’s maniac of a dog, starts barking. There’s an awkward pause in their conversation. “Kera?” Grandma asks. “What’s wrong?”

The kitchen door booms open and slams shut. I hear footsteps race down the porch and into the yard.

I ditch the TV and go into the kitchen, and see only Grandma. “Where’d Kera go?”

“I don’t know,” Grandma says with a shrug. “One minute she’s snapping green beans and the next she hotfooted it out of here like a dog after a squirrel. You don’t think she saw another…monster?” She whispers the last word as if saying it aloud will make one materialize.

“No,” I say with confidence. The special connection Kera and I share isn’t sending out any alarms.

I don’t like her suddenly running off. It’s becoming a habit. She seemed so happy a few minutes ago. So relaxed. I peer through the window. I don’t see her or anything that would make her leave. “I’ll go check on her.”

“I hope I didn’t say anything to upset her. Maybe she doesn’t like green bean casserole.”

I plant a kiss on Grandma’s forehead, something I’ve never done before, and her cheeks flush with pleasure. “That’s just crazy,” I say. “Everybody likes green bean casserole.”

I duck out of the house and make my way past the back gate. No sign of Kera anywhere. The forest takes a deep breath and quivers with anticipation as I enter. I touch the trees. Feel the bark skitter under my hands. There are advantages to being a first. Nature and I are one. Whatever I want, happens. I can make trees uproot and replant. I can make flowers bloom in winter. Fruit ripen in the spring. Send vines climbing until they reach the stars. I can make it rain or shine. The wind howl. The earth rise or fall.

The disadvantages to my power aren’t small, though. Since my death and resurrection, I’ve become a walking emoticon. The first part of me wants to take over, but I fight to keep the new me suppressed. Sometimes I’m good at it, a lot of the time I’m not.

What’s really disturbing me is my sudden taste for fire. As I make my way around the trees, I call it forward and watch it dance in my palm. Last night, I sat in my bed, watching it tumble over my hands. I could’ve set the house on fire, but when I’m in the mood, the danger I’m in doesn’t seem to matter. I have to play with the flames.

Grandpa claims I lack discipline. I’ve never had much need for it before. I’ve always been that guy who gets into harmless trouble and can easily talk my way out of it. I don’t have any experience with being a jerk with a sudden pyro obsession. I snuff the fire out and feel my jaw tighten.

Honestly, I don’t like this new me. Whatever Grandpa’s plan is, I hope it works. Since I don’t trust myself, I’ve got to trust someone.

My search for Kera turns up crickets and june bugs. It’s just my luck the rain from earlier dampened the air and everything smells like seared wood and wet ash. Eventually I find myself standing in the area where Faldon, Teag’s sage, attacked me. There’s a tree, standing in the middle of a patch of ground where it’s charred black and brown, with a ragged scar running from mid-trunk on up. It’s the tree where I entombed Faldon. I killed him. It doesn’t matter that the only way to save others was for him to die. I lie awake and torture myself with scenarios where no one dies and everyone lives happily ever after.

I tried to burn the tree, because when you sink to the depths of bad where Faldon had gone, you’ve got to make sure he’s not coming back, but the people who managed to rescue my mangled and bruised body put the fire out. Now the top portion of the tree is scraggly and the bottom part is a charred mess.

I place my hand on the trunk. The scarred and burned bark crackles under my fingers. Did he know I only entombed him because he would’ve killed Grandma and Leo? I had to protect them.

“I wish things had turned out differently,” I say to the tree, and then feel stupid for saying anything at all.

The burned crust shifts and a face appears in woodsy dips and grooves. I jump back, marveling at what I’m seeing. The lips split and a raspy voice says, “Dylan.”

By now, I should be used to crazy stuff happening around me. I’m not. I can feel my heart jumping around like a hamster with hiccups. “Faldon?”

The voice scrapes out of the wood like sticks rubbing together. “If you’ll allow me, I will help you.”

The tree is talking to me. If anyone else said they’d gone into the forest and talked to a tree, I would’ve been the first to point out the nearest therapist, but it’s happening to me. In my recent experience, there’s nothing odd about talking trees, except…

“No offense, but you’re dead. You do know that, right?”

“I am aware of my limitations. You do remember that before you trapped my spirit in this tree, I was a sage? I am also your grandfather.”

Nice of him to remind me, but apparently he needs a refresher course in reality. “Yeah, and you tried to kill me. You brought a whole new slant to my dysfunctional family I could’ve done without.”

“I was following an order I could not break.”

“Whatever gets you through the night.” If he wants to cling to that lame excuse, who am I to stop him?

“Dylan, you are still in danger.”

“I know.” A monster showing up in my backyard pretty much tipped me off to that fact. The firsts aren’t a live-and-let-live kind of people. I can only hope I didn’t pick up that genetic code from my dad.

“You know less than you think. You and Kera have absorbed Navar’s power. It’s big and raw and a hundred times more powerful than any other firsts. I still have little understanding of how he achieved that strength. What I do know is that you cannot accept that kind of power and not have it change you.”

My gut churns, but I don’t let my worry show. “So there might be a jealous first out for my head? Got it covered.”

“Meaning?”

“A plan is in place,” I lie. We’re living one moment to the next, just praying we can deal with whatever else pops out of the woods. I wish that was our only problem. I move away, pacing my nerves down, trying not to think about what I’ve become, because when I do, a strange excitement mixed with dread overwhelms me.

The face in the tree crumples, shifts, and protrudes once again, keeping its wooden eyes on me. “Have you noticed anything peculiar about Kera?”

“She’s fine.”

“Although she is half first, she was always more human. Far more human than you. Infusing her with a power like Navar’s will change her.”

Isn’t that what Kera said earlier? That she felt like she was changing? It’s stupid. We are who we are, and Kera is the most amazing person I’ve ever met. “She’s fine,” I repeat. “Perfectly the same.”

I’m the one changing, being led like a blind dog along a cliff edge.

“Kera may look like she’s handling it, but don’t be so sure. She was always one to break the rules. Now that she has the power of the firsts in her, there’s no telling what she will do.”

“She’s. Fine,” I snap. I don’t need him piling more imaginary trouble on my back.

“You are as headstrong as ever and easily led into trouble from which you cannot retreat. Don’t you think you’ve caused enough problems lately?”

What is he implying? That I could have stopped the council from branding me for death? That I should have let Navar continue to control and exterminate whomever he chose? That I could’ve controlled the power rushing through me that ended up burning a hole in the forest and killing God knows how many? Does he think I don’t have a conscience? That I easily sleep at night? I wasn’t raised with this power. It was dumped on me, and I was left alone to figure it out. If he wanted to get me pissed off, he’s done it.

My jaw clenches. “You want to help me? Fine. How ’bout you take away my nightmares?” I step forward. “Or tell me what’s with this?” I hold out my hand and fire bursts in the middle of my palm. The flame whips back and forth, bending toward the tree as if it were a dog sniffing after a treat. My fingers close, snuffing it out, and I regard the man in the tree. “How’d I get it? How do I get rid of it?”

“The fire is from me. When you ended my life, you absorbed my powers. As the son of the true king of Teag, that is your privilege. It’s what makes our ruler the most powerful of all.”

“So to get more power, I have to kill someone?” He’s got to be kidding. I always thought the firsts were a little shy of normal, but this is beyond messed up.

The lips dip in a deep frown. “No. Someone can give you their power temporarily for the purpose of protecting our people.”

“I’m done with Teag and our people.”

“They need you, Dylan.”

I eye him suspiciously. He’s saying they need me now? Apparently, getting entombed in a tree really has a way of changing a man. “Last time we met, you thought me being dead was a great solution to my sudden appearance.”

“I never thought that. I saw the potential for danger you possessed, the chaos you would bring, but Kera saw what I couldn’t. She saw your heart and the goodness that lies within it. Is she right?”

“It doesn’t matter if she’s right or wrong. They definitely want me, but it’s not how you think. They want me dead.”

The bark splits more and the face protrudes, stretching the boundary of his prison. “You are the heir to the kingdom. You are their prince. Give them a chance. They don’t know you.”

I’ve gone back and forth about going back to Teag all week. I need to retrieve Jason’s body. It’s something I should do, and I know it, but hearing Faldon, the man who tried to kill me, tell me what to do makes me want to do the exact opposite.

I shake my head, all manner of vile accusations pounding through my mind. “If you think you can guilt me into going back, then you don’t know me, either.”

I will go back, but in my own time and for my own reasons. Giving Faldon one more long, hard look, I turn my back on the burned-out tree and the spirit of the grandfather Faldon never was, and walk away.

Breath of Fire

Kera ran past the shed and into the woods, following Dylan’s grandparents’ dog. She’d recognized the face peering out from the woods—and he should not be here. She stopped and examined the charred spot along the ground, smelled the distinct sulfurous smell of dragon spit. “Blaze?”

Her eyes hadn’t been playing tricks on her. Just like the monster, Faldon’s pet dragon had somehow entered the human realm. She had to find that dragon before he caused more damage. Luckily, the ground was wet from the afternoon showers and what damage he may cause would be minimal...she hoped.

“Blaze,” she hissed. “Blaze!”

A sudden yelp sounded, and Scooter raced past her, leaving the scent of burning fur in his wake. A rumbling purr sounded ahead. Stooping, she peered into the underbrush and saw two glowing amber eyes. She slowly moved forward, her voice like silk as she talked. “There’s my sweet boy. Are you scared? What are you doing here?”

Though he was tiny, Blaze was a flying demolition expert. A dragon in the human realm was the last thing she needed to worry about right now. She needed to focus on Dylan.

If her suspicions were correct, Dylan had the ability to collect power, just like the Lost King, and that was bad. It was rumored that particular ability could push someone over the edge of sanity. She couldn’t allow Dylan to risk that. As long as she kept Dylan in the human world, everything should be fine. Which meant catching Blaze and sending him back to Teag was her problem to deal with.

She slowly raised her hand, stretching it toward the tiny dragon. The bushes rustled and Blaze shot away. Kera took off after him. It was like chasing shadows. He was too quick, darting from tree to bush to ground. Any thoughts of a speedy capture disappeared.

She slowed and glanced around. She had no idea which direction the dragon had gone. As she contemplated her next move, a sudden zip of leathery wings sounded next to her right ear. Her hair swirled past her face. When the strands settled back onto her shoulders, she saw a puff of his odorous smoke floating in front of her.

Blaze had dragged his tail through the smoke and made a trail that pointed in the direction he went. Kera followed. Whenever she stopped, Blaze would briefly make an appearance. It didn’t take her long to realize the dragon wasn’t interested in losing her. He wanted to play.

Exhausted by the chase, Kera knelt on the forest floor, not caring that the soppy ground soaked her knees. “I’m done playing, Blaze. You win.”

The dragon’s deep purr reached her ears. She cocked her head, trying to place his whereabouts. A flutter stirred the air behind her and she stayed still, not letting his stalking bother her, though Blaze had been known to spit fire at someone who refused to play.

Kera sank her fingers into the earth and called on her new powers. The magic hummed within her core. Before, when she had needed to use her father’s magic, she had to recite spells. Now, with the infusion of Navar’s deep power, she didn’t have to lean on spells as much. Whatever she wanted, happened.

Beneath her fingers, the earth bubbled, and in no time she held a wriggling slug. “Yummy. Look what I have.”

She held it in the air, letting it bounce enticingly between her fingers. The sound of rustling leaves grew until Blaze trotted out from his hiding place, wings tucked neatly against his sides, his barbed tail dragging a serpentine line in the soil. Tip to tail, Blaze was no longer than her forearm, and when he stretched out his iridescent wings, the wingspan measured close to two feet. The red-and-gold-tipped coloring wasn’t conducive to hiding, yet he seemed to have no problem blending into the forest underbrush and deep shadows.

When he stopped in front of her, his beady eyes focused greedily on the slug. How long had it been since his last feeding? Blaze’s head tilted, eyes narrowed, and he spat a stream of fire at the slug’s tail. The spit and burn surprised Kera, and she dropped it. Blaze snatched the charred slug from midair and choked it down in one bite.

The dragon turned his glowing amber eyes to her, and she could see the hunger lingering there. All thoughts about sending him back to Teag vanished. Seeing how scrawny and helpless he was, she knew she couldn’t. Not yet, anyway.

She fished in the ground for more bugs, feeling slightly guilty using her powers to draw the unsuspecting creatures to their death, but bugs were nature’s snack food. More than an hour later, Blaze’s stomach had blossomed to twice its size, and he purred contentedly in her lap. The ground was littered with uneaten dead bugs. She had ruined the balance of life on this small patch of ground in her attempt to feed Blaze, and no amount of magic could correct the damage. It was best to leave and hope the remaining wildlife would scavenge the rest.

“It’s time to go.” Kera twirled her long hair around her fist before nudging the dragon onto her back. He hooked tiny claws onto her T-shirt and flattened his body close to hers. The heat from his belly soaked into her skin. With a sweep, she let go of her hair and the heavy mass swung over her shoulders and over Blaze, hiding him from view.

“No fire. No spitting or smoking, and no digging your claws into my skin.”

Unfazed by her demands, the dragon nudged her spine with the tip of his nose and cuddled closer.

“This is a temporary situation,” she told him as she made her way back to the ranch. Hiding a dragon in her room was far from a good idea, but it was the only one she had until she went back to Teag and found someone willing to care for him.

By the time she stood at the bottom of the porch steps, the outside lights were on and the house was quiet. She hadn’t meant to be gone so long. She could feel Dylan’s distress at her continued absence. He had yet to learn how to block his feelings from others, something she had done since she was a little girl…but never from him. Until today.

The risk of sharing her latest secret was too high. Though she wanted to go to him, she didn’t dare. Dylan would never agree to keep a dragon in the human realm. Even though Blaze was no bigger than a tree lizard, his tendency to breathe fire made him dangerous. To keep everyone safe, Dylan would take Blaze back to Teag. Kera couldn’t allow that to happen. Dylan must never set foot in Teag again.

Because of the raw, untamed power flowing through him, she had thought he could save them all. Instead, Teag had sunk its teeth into Dylan, nearly destroying him. She knew he felt responsible for those who had died, but if he ever went back, there was no telling what would happen. She’d nearly lost him once. She wouldn’t risk losing him again.

Surely she could take care of this one small problem by herself, but as she climbed the back stairs she had second thoughts. Pausing, she gazed back at the forest. It was so big, and Blaze so small. Keeping him contained in her room would be easiest, and they would be up and gone in the morning before anyone else stirred. He was calm and well fed at the moment, and it was just for one night. Nothing bad could happen in one night.

Finally convinced, she crossed the porch and eased the screen door open. A small squeak escaped. She froze, but the house stayed quiet. As she palmed the other knob, the door flew open to reveal Dylan, his bulk towering over her. His gaze landed heavily on hers. He was her protector, her best friend, her love, and she was keeping secrets from him. She was a horrible person.

His handsome face pulled tight. “Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?”

“I know.” The emotion crowded his thoughts. “I can feel your upset.”

“I didn’t feel yours.”

Kera put her hands on his chest and pushed, all the while making sure to face him as she maneuvered into the kitchen. “That’s because I wasn’t upset.” At least not enough to let her guard down and let him know.

He followed her as she pivoted around and backed up toward the back stairs. “Then why did you run off like that? You missed dinner. You upset Grandma.”

A quick prick and pull climbed up Kera’s back to her left shoulder. She twitched against Blaze.

Dylan frowned. “Don’t you care?”

She slipped her hand along her neck as if to give it a scratch, but instead poked Blaze’s nose down. “No! I do. I am sorry. I thought I saw something. Out there.”

“Is that Kera?” Grandpa called from the den.

“Yes,” Kera replied, keeping her eyes on Dylan, terrified he’d see Blaze. “I’m sorry to have worried anyone.”

“I wasn’t worried. I told him you’d be back, but he’s so lovesick, not seeing you for five minutes makes him jittery.”

Dylan glanced toward the den. “Grandpa…”

Kera took the opportunity to poke Blaze in the nose again. What was wrong with him? He’d crawled so high, his nose rested on her shoulder. No amount of poking would push him down. Kera quickly gathered a handful of her long hair and pulled it forward, hiding Blaze’s face from Dylan’s view. As she slipped her hands down her hair in a nervous gesture, she took another step back.

Dylan turned back to her and stepped closer. “What’d you see?”

“Nothing really.” She faked a big yawn, though she couldn’t be more tired, and blinked up at him. “Can we talk in the morning? I’ve been chasing shadows all night. I need to go to bed.”

He grabbed one of her wrists and splayed her fingers toward the light. “Your hands are dirty. So are your knees. If something is out there, tell me.”

And have him go back to Teag? He barely survived the encounter last time.

“Nothing is out there.” Not now. “I fell,” she said and pulled her hand away.

“You’re not telling me something. You’ve never kept secrets from me before.”

“I’m not keeping one now.” The lie slipped out easily. She backed up farther and bumped into the door. Blaze let out a small huff and Kera coughed at the whiff of sulfur that rose. She pressed her hand to her head, ready to beg him to let her leave.

Dylan reared back. “What’s that smell?” His face contorted oddly. “Did you just fart?”

“Pardon?” she squeaked.

“Umm, you know,” he made a few odd gestures with his hands. At her blank look he said, “Pass gas.”

“Are you asking if I have flatulence?” This couldn’t be happening. She would never—not in front of anyone.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I-I-I—” She wanted to squish Blaze for embarrassing her. “I have to go.”

Seeing her embarrassment, he made to take her hand again, but she managed to stay free. He smiled. “It’s okay. You’re not the first girl to do that in front of me.”

Her cheeks grew hot. She opened her mouth. A strange sound, like a tiny burp, erupted. She snapped her mouth closed, swallowed, and then said in a rush, “I’m not feeling well.”

That wasn’t a lie. She felt horrible on more than one level. “I really have to go.” She twisted away, still managing to keep her back pointed away from him, and hurried up the stairs.

When she got to her room, she closed and locked the door and sagged onto the bed. Pulling her hair out of the way, she yanked the dragon off her back and turned on him. “What is wrong with you?”

The little dragon shook, his scales clattering as he did. He winged off the bed, falling to the floor with a soft thud, and trotted straight to the door, where he raked his talons up and down, gouging the wood.

She hopped off the bed and snatched him away. “Stop that. I am not letting you out.”

Blaze snorted and turned his amber eyes on her. His eyes glowed pathetic…in a reptilian way. He missed Faldon and so did she, even though the old sage had turned his loyalties to Navar and tried to kill Dylan’s grandmother and Leo. Kera still remembered the kind teacher, mentor, and friend he had been before he had fallen into Navar’s trap.

There was no telling what was going on in Teag. Now that Navar was dead, she had to believe her father and those like him had been able to reason with the firsts. She hadn’t wanted to leave, but her father had insisted, and now the guilt, the not knowing, was eating her alive. If her friends and those with mixed blood were suffering…

She wouldn’t allow herself to think about it. She’d made the right decision by obeying her father and following Dylan. Not that it wasn’t exactly what she had wanted to do all along, but thinking about Signe tinged her decision with doubt. She’d promised her friend she would stay.

Kera held Blaze tighter and fell back onto the bed. “Because of you, I lied to Dylan.”

It was a depressing thought, and no amount of justification made her feel better. She blinked back a sudden rush of emotion and sniffed, filling her nose with a mix of earthy odors. She should change her clothes. Wash the dirt away. But she was so tired. Blaze snuggled onto her chest, and she ran her finger from the protruding knobs atop his head to the spiny tip of his tail. “Was no one willing to befriend you?”

The dragon snorted a puff of acrid smoke as if insulted by the idea. He flopped into the space between her arm and her body and tucked his head beneath her arm. He was better than a warming pan on a cold winter night, and all too soon, Kera dozed off.

Sometime during the night, the bed creaked. It wasn’t a normal creak; it warned of someone heavy sitting down. At the sound, Kera was instantly awake. She lay on her bed, fully dressed, having passed out without changing. Even her shoes were still on. A heavy lump shifted by her feet and the bed creaked again. No one, not even Dylan, would have come into her room without knocking first. With eyes still closed and her breathing steady, she inched her hand toward her dagger.

Her fingers slipped around the hilt and eased it into her palm. The body heat from whoever was on her bed grew. It took all her willpower to stay calm.

She took a deep breath, gathered her courage, and bolted upright, throwing the covers away and holding the dagger in front of her, ready to defend herself from whoever was in her room. A deep rumble of alarm sounded. The boards supporting the mattress suddenly gave way and the mattress bumped to the floor. Kera rolled backward and landed against the headboard, her body weight the only thing keeping it from crashing forward.

Wide-eyed, she stared at the end of her bed. The sheets she’d tossed off covered a shifting bulk. It shook like a dog discharging water from its fur, and the sheets fell away revealing Blaze, crouched at the foot of her now-destroyed bed. During the night, he’d grown three times his size.

“You’re…huge.”

Stating the obvious didn’t make her feel less panicked. Someone had to have heard the bed collapse. Kera scrambled over to Blaze and ordered him off. The stubborn dragon only blinked his amber-eyed stare.

“I’m serious. Off.” She pushed.

He snapped at her hand.

She smacked his nose.

He glared and his chest started to expand.

“Do not dare spit fire at me,” she said, pointing her finger at him. “If you do, I’ll never speak to you again.”

The dragon’s chest slowly deflated and he gingerly moved off the mattress, bumping into the dresser as he struggled to find room to move. Kera ignored him and concentrated on the bed. Drawing on her new powers, she waved her hand and the bed shuffled back together, as good as new.

A knock sounded on the door, and Dylan’s grandmother’s voice called out softly, “Kera? Is everything all right? We heard a loud noise.”

A deep rumble rolled out of Blaze. Kera launched across the room and put her hand on his muzzle to quiet him. “I’m terribly sorry. I fell.”

She grew up lying to everyone around her on a daily basis, so why was she so surprised when the lie slipped out so easily? “Off the bed. I was dreaming. I’m fine now. Just a little bump. Really.” She winced, frustrated at her babbling.

From the other side of the door, she heard Dylan’s muffled voice and then his Grandma whisper, “I don’t know.”

“Someone’s in there with her.”

How could he possibly know that? That he sounded so positive caused a rush of guilt to flush her cheeks.

Dylan’s knock was quick and loud. “Kera? Let me in.”

“I’m fine, Dylan. I promise.”

“Then open the door.”

“I’m not presentable.” Which was true. If she opened the door dressed like she was, he’d know something was up.

The knob rattled. She could feel his frustration climb. Dylan wasn’t used to being denied.

“Dylan, she says she’s fine,” his grandma said.

Kera let out a sigh. As long as his grandmother was there, he’d stay out.

“She’s not fine. I can feel her stress.”

He wasn’t wrong there. Hiding Blaze would take a miracle.

He knocked harder. “Open the door. Now, Kera.”

“Thinking you will barge in is causing me stress. I’m fine.” Kera took a deep breath, enclosing her feelings the way she had learned to do when she was a child.

“You want me to believe you? Open the door.”

“Let me get my robe.” She quickly kicked off her shoes, yanked her legs free of her pants, and shrugged out of her shirt. She scurried past Blaze to the closet, where she found her robe. As she slipped it on, she nudged Blaze toward the window. “Listen to me,” she whispered urgently to the dragon as she threw the window open. “Outside. Now.”

Dylan jiggled the doorknob. “Come on, Kera. Stop messing around. You’ve been acting strange lately. What’s going on?”

“Please, one moment longer,” she yelled over her shoulder.

“Out,” she hissed to the dragon as she loaded his front feet onto the windowsill.

The window was wide, but Blaze’s shoulders caught on the edges. No matter how hard she pushed, Blaze wouldn’t fit. Blaze gurgled unpleasantly in his throat just as Dylan banged on the door again.

She held out her glowing hand and the opening widened. Blaze slipped free, clambering up the side of the house and onto the roof, surprisingly light on his feet for a dragon.

“Kera! I’m not kidding.” He pounded so hard, it sounded like his fist would punch through the door.

Kera readjusted the window and shoved it closed. Fanning her hot face, she rushed to the door. After taking a deep breath, she unlocked it and threw it open, her hands settling on her hips and anger in her voice. “Why are you so insistent on seeing me? I told you I was well.”

Grandma peered around them for a quick peek. “Gracious, Dylan. You had me thinking…well, I don’t know what.” She laid her hand on Kera’s arm and squeezed lightly. “’Night, sweetie.” She passed a stern look over Dylan. “Say your good-nights and get back to bed.”

“Good night,” Kera sweetly said after the woman’s retreating form.

Dylan moved closer. “Don’t play with me. I felt your fear.” He glared behind her, his suspicions growing by the second. “You’ve been hiding something from me and I want to know what it is.”

“I’m not hiding anything.” His demands were starting to do more than irritate her. “Look for yourself.”

He grabbed her hand and pushed up the robe’s sleeve. “No bruises?”

She yanked her arm away. “Stop it!”

“I have the right to know what’s going on.”

“Not over me you don’t.”

“Especially over you. Do you think I can’t tell something’s different?”

“I told you I was. So are you. It’s the magic you stole from Navar. It’s—”

“Stop blaming me.” He didn’t yell; the words rumbled from deep within his chest, which scared her all the more. His jaw hardened, and his body rippled with tension. “Whatever is happening, it’s not my fault and I’m sick of you thinking it is.”

“I never said it was,” she said.

His lips pulled back, exposing a harsh line of teeth as he gritted out, “You didn’t have to.”

Beneath his T-shirt, the outline of his silver brand started to glow. His fists curled at his sides, and wisps of smoke seeped through his fingers.

Kera’s gaze locked on his fists and she backed away. “What are you doing?”

His breathing had gone ragged. He closed his eyes. “Be still. Just be still.”

She immediately stopped moving. He was losing control and all she could do was watch.

He had every reason to be angry. She was lying to him, and it made her sick to her stomach. Guilt softened her voice to a whisper. “I’m sorry, Dylan. Whatever is happening, I’m sorry.”

A full minute passed. Seeing him struggle to gain control hurt her as much as it did him. This wasn’t Dylan. Hearing his labored breathing and feeling the heat of his anger sweep the room finally convinced her. Navar’s dark nature had infected them, and it was only a matter of time before she lost control, too.

She felt a touch to her arm. Looking up, she saw Dylan, now calm. Shame clouded his eyes and softened his lips. “I promised you I wouldn’t lose control, but I almost did. I don’t know what’s happening,” he admitted. “I could’ve burned the house down.”

“Never.” She wrapped her arms around him, fitting her body to his. Dylan, her Dylan, was back. She hugged him close, pressing her cheek to his chest. “Please believe me. All I want is for us to be happy.”

He sighed, the last of his tension melting away, and kissed the top of her head. “I could’ve sworn you were in trouble.” Confusion seeped into his words. “The feeling woke me from a sound sleep.”

She rubbed her cheek against his chest. “Don’t—”

Something long and scaly whipped past the window. Dylan stiffened. “What was that?”

The movement was fast. Still, Kera knew a dragon tail when she saw one. Rising on her tiptoes, she took his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his. When she felt him yield, felt his arms tighten, she placed soft kisses across his cheek to his ear. “I’m sorry I frightened you. It was only a bad dream.”

“Do you want me to stay?” The hope in his voice tempted her to say yes, but having a dragon running amok was a problem she had to fix, and fast.

She bit back her desires and sighed with a heart full of regret. “Your grandmother would not be pleased.”

“I know, but—”

Her lips seized his again, and she let herself fall into the feelings only he could stir. It was hard to pull away, but she did. “I’ll be fine.”

She placed her hand on his chest and gently pushed him into the hall. His eyes were glazed with passion and edged with disappointment.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she begged. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

She closed the door and placed her forehead on the cool wood. She hated lying to him. If only she could trust him not to take Blaze back to Teag—but she couldn’t. Once in Teag, Dylan would stay and try to fix everyone’s problems. They’d let him, even if it killed him. She wasn’t about to let their selfish nature destroy him. She had managed to convince Dylan that her father would take care of everything. She could only pray she was right.

The scurry of feet rattled the roof slates, and she overheard Dylan’s grandpa loudly grumble about raccoons on the roof again and his wife telling him the problem could wait until morning.

Kera pushed away from the door. Not this problem.

It took her only a few seconds to re-dress, and as she climbed out the window and saw the destruction Blaze had already accomplished, she remembered her father’s warning. Everything would change now that Navar was dead.

The only change she could see was the reappearance of a dragon to the human realm. She worried her bottom lip and gazed toward the barrier. Why hadn’t anyone tried to stop him from coming through?

A more disturbing thought fired her imagination in ways she didn’t like. First the monster and now Blaze. What else had crept unseeing into the human realm?

Accident of Fate

“Good morning, Dylan,” Grandma’s cheerful greeting slams into my ears.

What is it with old people and getting up early?

I dig my head deeper into the pillows. “Not now, Grandma.”

“Yes, now, Dylan.” She pulls the covers off, exposing my bare back to the cool air. Goose bumps rise. I’m still not used to Oregon’s cool mornings. It’s summer—where’s the ninety-degree weather, or is it always this shy of downright cold?

I throw my arm behind me and rake my hand over the covers, trying to pull them back.

“Oh, no you don’t. Up. Grandpa has plans for you, and don’t ask me what. I have no idea, which usually means I won’t approve.” She paused. “Should I be worried?”

I push myself to my elbows before I look at her. “I’m a problem, Grandma. We’re down to that whole drastic measures thing.”

She ruffles my bedhead, but her eyes crinkle with concern she can’t hide. “Everyone goes through trials. If your grandfather says he knows how to help you, then—” She bites her bottom lip, worrying a tooth mark into the pink skin. “We should trust him.”

Yeah, confidence oozes out of her.

“Then again,” she mutters, “your grandfather is a very creative man. Maybe I’ll have a talk with him before you go.”

She gives me a weak smile and leaves. I can just imagine what she’ll say to Grandpa. “Don’t break our new grandson, George. He’s still recovering.” There’ll be a long pause and lots of facial movements stressing the word recovering.

In her eyes I’m fragile—still broken.

I push to a sitting position, dig my elbows into my knees, and curl my fingers through my hair. I’m like a rope that’s been tugged too hard and the fibers are beginning to snap. I don’t want to admit it, but Grandma’s right, though not in the way I think she thinks.

I’m not sure I’ll ever recover. I can actually feel the rot of death eating at me. How many people can you kill in the name of war before you’ve crossed the line into murderer? All the screams and the horrified faces as they realized they were dying won’t go away. Crushed, burned, stabbed, and beaten—the images are a part of me now.

“I did what I had to do.” My voice is weak. Shaky. I’m not sure I’m convinced.

I can’t stop wondering if Leo blames me for his grandfather’s death. I do. He said the funeral was nice. Everyone showed up, even Carl Delgato, Jason’s bully of a dad. He went straight for the liquor afterward. No one blamed him at the time. Jason had just been declared a runaway, but all Carl could see was his son’s opportunity to get a college wrestling scholarship going down the drain.

Time has a way of working for or against you. In a surprisingly short time, Leo has proudly accepted his grandfather’s heroism and Carl’s disgust with his son has turned to bitterness, while my frustration at knowing something is wrong with me, but not knowing what, climbs. We’re all living in a mess I created with varying degrees of success…or not at all. Somehow, I’ve got to clean it up. But how? That’s the mind-bender I’m dealing with.

An image of Jason, his lips blue, his skin waxy, flashes in my head. I killed him. I killed Pop, Leo’s grandfather. Not by my own hand, but by dragging them into my problems, my obsession to be with Kera. If I had known they’d die, I would never have followed her. I would’ve let her go and insisted she stay away.

My gut twists, calling me out for the liar I am, and the first part of me laughs at my dishonesty. I like being a first. I like the power, the way it hums under my skin. I’ve only begun to know what all I can do. It’s scary but exciting.

And that’s the problem.

I’m ashamed. How can I ever allow myself to be happy, to finally take pleasure in who I really am, when I’ve caused so much pain?

Somehow I’ve got to make it all right. Whatever Grandpa’s got planned, I’m all in. No matter what.

I shove to my feet and quickly dress. I’m down the hall to the kitchen in no time, feeling leery and depressed, and angry that I’m feeling leery and depressed.

Grandpa’s gruff voice floats in from the back porch. “I won’t hurt him. Not much.”

“I mean it, George. I forbid you doing anything that’ll harm him.”

“Woman, I’m not taking him in front of a firing squad, but I can’t promise you he won’t come away with a few bumps and bruises. Hell, if you saw what he did in that forest before that thing showed up, you’d ban him from the house.” Grandpa’s sandpapery voice suddenly skids to a halt, then charges into overdrive. “Now don’t you go looking at me like I’m keeping secrets. He’s the same boy who needs your tender care. And I’ve got—”

“What did he do?” Her voice slices into his sentence with cold precision.

“I-it wasn’t so bad. A mite dangerous... Listen, his powers are growing faster than his brain. I’m just going to give his brain a little jolt so it’ll catch up, is all. He’s all for this. I’m not forcing him.”

I go to the screen door and lean against the doorjamb. Grandma sees me, and her smile is tinged with irritation. “Well, it seems I’m the one who’s going to have to trust the pair of you to behave yourselves.”

Grandpa yanks the screen door open and jerks his thumb toward the side of the house. “Truck.”

With a quick tip and swallow, I empty my glass and hand it to Grandma. “Where’s Kera?”

“Last time I saw her she was heading over to Leo’s. Something about asking him a question about an animal she found.”

A heavy sigh escapes Grandpa, and he glares at me. “Did you tell her?”

“Not yet.”

Since Kera’s been here, she’s gotten in the habit of rescuing mice, rabbits, and even a skunk.

Grandpa’s big hand rubs the back of his neck. “That girl needs to focus on rescuing non-vermin.”

“It points to a kind heart,” Grandma says.

“And I’m sure while people are fighting off the plague she’s bound to set off, they’ll be praising her kindness.”

“Now sweetheart…”

He nudges me down the porch steps and toward the truck parked alongside the house. “We’re off to the Cavanaughs’.”

“Good God, George!” Grandma’s hand flutters up to her throat. “That family is—”

“Exactly what he needs, so no fussing,” Grandpa calls over his shoulder. “We’ll be back for lunch. Remember what we discussed. Stay out of the woods. No use inviting trouble. If you need anything, call Reggie.”

As I round the truck, I see Reggie toting a shotgun as he herds a group of sheep down the dirt road behind the house. Since the incident in the woods, he’s kept his distance, wanting nothing to do with the freak that I am. Lucky me.

Grandma moves to the end of the porch and grips the railing. As I pull open the passenger-side door, she calls, “Have a good—” She stops, and a worried frown mars her forehead. “Well, do your best, Dylan.”

What is she so upset about? I feel a rush of heat climb up my suddenly tight neck, like she’s telling me I’m too stupid to know I’m about to do something really dumb. Grandpa doesn’t seem fazed. Whoever the Cavanaughs are, they can’t be all that bad if Grandpa trusts them.

I get in, and she turns a hot glare on Grandpa. “I’ll have words for you when you get home, and don’t think I won’t.”

He opens the driver-side door, and as smooth as a carnival hawker says, “I prefer kisses, but your words are nearly as sweet.”

Grandma rolls her eyes at Grandpa, and he slips in and slams the door. With a quick twist of the key he never bothers to take out of the ignition, he starts the truck.

Our eyes meet for a brief second before I stare out the front window and nod. “Nicely played, Grandpa.”

As we roll forward, a quick, deep laugh rumbles from his chest. “She acts like I annoy her, but she loves pretty words. Remember that, boy. If you ever get in trouble with a woman, get to talking sweet at her and she’ll forgive nearly anything.”

I arch my eyebrow in doubt. His advice sounds too easy…and if I’ve learned anything lately, Kera is anything but easy. I like it that way.

We tear out of the yard and down the road. Grandpa’s got a lead foot and a taste for sixties rock music, and not the good kind, which he sings along with as he drives. Fifteen minutes later, we pull into a yard that’s more used car lot than front lawn. Grandpa stops his truck and points to a 1938 Dodge pickup. “You don’t see one of those every day. They got it in yesterday. It’ll be a beauty when the boys clean it up.”

We get out and make our way through the trucks. Most are rusted boxes on wheels. I’m scared to touch one, and I’m getting a little queasy standing in the middle of them. “This is great, Grandpa, but you know exposed iron and I don’t mix.” Being around this much exposed iron is like shoving a rusted stake into my heart. Most of these trucks aren’t viable transportation options at this point.

“Right, right.” He hustles me along, but his eyes brighten with envy. “Look at that one. 1956 Ford F100 Big Window. And a 1940 GMC right behind it.”

“Awesome. Can we hurry?”

We cut around the house and see a huge garage. The sound of unvarnished iron being pounded into submission stops me. “Grandpa, are you trying to kill me?”

“We’re not going in there. We’re going over there,” he says, pointing to a barn in the distance.

When we get closer, the doors shove wide open, and a guy in a drab khaki shirt, camouflage pants, and khaki jump boots stands with his arms crossed over his chest. His hair is buzzed close to his scalp in a be-all-you-can-be cut that only hints at its dark brown color. His gray eyes stare me down under his lowered brows. “He’s bigger than I expected.”

Grandpa looks past the guy and into the barn. “How you doing, Wyatt? Where’s Reece?”

“Out obsessing over a new girl.” Wyatt circles around, giving me a brief inspection. “So, you have an anger problem.”

It’s a statement of fact, not a question. Grandpa’s obviously told him about me. How much, is the real question.

I try not to fidget under his stare. “You could say that.”

His face contorts into a mixture of annoyance and disgust. “I hate bullies.” He moves right into my face. “You’re not one of them, are you?”

I don’t like people getting into my face. I stare back, seeing the black of his pupils contract and expand like a junkie on a meth high. My jaw tightens and the muscles in my arms stiffen.

Grandpa’s big body moves between us. “When will Reece be back?”

Wyatt’s narrowed gaze gives me another once-over, and when he looks at Grandpa, he visibly relaxes. “Soon. He said you wanted a hose. Over there.”

As Wyatt trots inside to a storage room and starts pulling stuff out, Grandpa grabs my arm and pulls me inside the barn. It smells like old dirt and fresh hay. I thumb over toward GI Jackass. “What’s with him?”

“Don’t mind Wyatt. He’s a good guy.” We reach the hose and he picks it up. “I guess Reece recruited him to help train you.”

“Fantastic, and what are they training me to do?”

With a twist of the pressure nozzle, water shoots out of the end of the hose and across the barn floor. Grandpa grins. “Not light up.”

A knot in my stomach grows. “They know about me?”

“If you control yourself, and if I’m quick enough with this hose, they won’t.”

Oh, this is not a good idea. “They’re gonna freak.”

“Ready?” Wyatt says, standing in the midst of a pile of stuff.

“He’s ready,” Grandpa calls back.

Wyatt shakes his head. “Sorry, sir. I need to hear it from him. I’m not interested in helping someone who doesn’t want it.”

“I promise, he won’t accuse you of abuse when all’s said and done.”

I turn my head back and forth between the pair. “Why would someone do that? What exactly are you going to do to me?”

“Teach you to control your temper by means of repetition.”

All the tension leaves my body and I laugh. “What, every time I get angry I’m going to recite my times table?” I turn to Grandpa. “That’s a great solution.” The sarcasm in my voice isn’t hard to miss.

“This isn’t a babysitting service. You game or not?”

The guy’s getting a little testy, and I’m not fond of testy dudes, but then a flash of Kera’s horrified expression comes to mind. “I’m ready.”

“Then let’s get loaded up.”

From out of the pile he pulls out a backpack. I have a sinking feeling his idea of repetition involves a bit more physical endurance than I was expecting.

I hesitate, and Grandpa twists the nozzle, shooting a quick stream of water at me. When I look back, he grins and winks. “Start trusting. I’ve got you covered.”

Good Intentions Go Bad

Wyatt jerks the cinches to my backpack until the straps are snug against my shoulders. He then slips an identical pack onto his back. Something shifts inside mine, but I don’t have time to give it much thought because he launches into a mini lecture. “You’re here to learn control. To discipline your actions. The thing about control is that it’s elusive until you figure out it’s all mental.”

“So we’re going to sit cross-legged on the floor and repeat positive affirmations?”

Wyatt smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Note taken. He doesn’t have a sense of humor. “This is a training camp. When I’m home on leave, I help Reece train fighters. MMA, boxing, jujitsu. I’m not going to ask you to do anything I don’t ask any one of our boys to do. This is our one day off. Don’t make me regret helping you when I could be helping myself to some fun down at Dirty Joe’s Day and Night Club.”

I nod, but I’m still not sure what he’s got planned. Not until he pulls me outside to a pile of rocks. He turns me around and starts loading them into my pack. The weight pulls at my shoulders and ribs. He secures the load and moves to face me. “Give me grief, there’s room for more rocks, got it?”

I tuck my fingers in the straps and adjust the weight. “Got it.”

“All you have to do is keep up.” The guy flashes me a grin.

Grandpa calls me over and tests the weight strapped to my back as he watches Wyatt doing who-knows-what outside. “He’s not messing around.”

I’m beginning to get the feeling I’ve fallen into my own rabbit hole to hell when Grandpa grabs the water hose and soaks me down until my boxers stick uncomfortably to my legs. “That should keep the sparks away until you get back. If you feel the need to light up, get the hell away from him, got it?”

“This is lame,” I say, standing in a puddle of excess water. “How’s this supposed to help me?”

Grandpa shakes his head and steps back. “Careful, son. Confidence is knowing you can do something and get it done. Cockiness is showing you’re too stupid to know when you’re in trouble. You’re verging on cocky, boy.” Grandpa nods toward Wyatt. “He trains hard-core for fun.”

I shrug, not worried at all. “I’ve got more speed in me than he’ll ever possess. I’ll be back before my clothes start to dry.”

“Just crossed over into cocky,” he mutters. His fingers grip my shoulder, digging into my muscle. “Do this human, Dylan. No powers. Prove to me and to yourself what kind of man you really are.”

Wyatt appears near the barn door, notices my wet clothes, and shakes his head. “I’m not even going to ask. Come on, kid. I’m not holding your hand through this. Either you want it or you don’t.” He doesn’t wait for an answer. He turns and runs off.

He’s tapped into my main problem. I don’t want to be out of control, but half the time my powers appear without me ever calling on them. Ever since I came back from Teag, I’m plugged into the earth like wires into a grid. I’m not just freaking myself out, but everyone else around me.

“I’ll do it human.” The promise is out before I can stop it. I’m terrified. There’s no way I can keep it.

Grandpa lets go, and I take off after the guy. It’s only a little run. How hard can that be? A streak of khaki, like a slash of dirt, pinpoints him on the opposite side of the yard. He enters the woods, and with my long-legged stride, I steadily gain on him. When I come alongside him, I see his surprise, but he quickly hides it. I suppress a grin, but inside I’m glad I’ve made a dent in that irritating smile he wears.

The first part of our run is about the lead and who can hold on to it. After twenty minutes, my lack of endurance begins to show. I resist the urge to call on a jolt of energy. It would be so easy. I can feel it humming in the earth beneath my feet—ready, waiting for me to accept it.

Seeing me struggle, Wyatt’s muscles loosen and he starts in with the big talk. “I hear your mom’s got an open-door policy.”

I grit my teeth. It’s not like I can deny it, but I don’t like him or anyone else talking about it.

Either he’s a real jerk or he’s trying to tick me off because he keeps yammering. “You should hear the stories. She was a wild thing back then, and a handful in more than one way.”

We come to a hill, and I get a good grip on the backpack straps, taking the weight off my shoulders as best I can, but the climb still burns my lungs.

Wyatt paces himself, more like a machine than a human. I don’t even hear him breathing heavy. “From what I’ve heard, she’s still got her looks.”

I don’t respond. How can I? I’m using all my energy to keep pace.

“Surprising, though. Most women like her tend to get that used look by now.”

The smell of burning cloth reaches my nose. My hands are gripping the straps, and beneath my fingers, the fabric edges are singed. I shoot a quick glance at Wyatt to see if he notices.

“Still,” he says, all innocent, “if she comes back, I wouldn’t mind seeing what all the fuss is about.”

I feel the rush of heat and battle to keep it down. “You really don’t want to get me mad.”

“That’s what I hear. Now take that anger and push it down into your belly. Let it fuel your need to beat me to the top of this hill.” Wyatt pumps his legs harder and begins to pull away from me. “Come on.”

I really want to beat him. I hunch down and push myself, but the guy stays one step ahead of me.

At the crest, he pulls me to a stop. With my breath heaving in and out, he spins me around so my back faces him. “Sadly, you suck, so more rocks.”

I glance over my shoulder. “I was right behind you—”

“Yeah, but I heard you breathing. I don’t like heavy breathers.” He collects five rocks from his pack and jams them into mine.”

“You’re carrying rocks?” My surprise shows in my voice.

“As many as you…well, not now.” He turns me around and pushes me forward. “Let’s go, anger-management boy. Reece should be getting back soon. That’s when the real fun starts.”

Wyatt stops me three more times, once because I slowed down, once because I was sweating too much, and the last time—just because. By the time we get back, I’m carrying all the rocks. I stumble into the barn, sweat stains my shirt, and my face is hot from anger. Wyatt managed to hit on every one of my insecurities from Mom to school to Kera. I collapse to my knees, chest heaving, lungs burning, and rip off the backpack. Rocks the size of my fist and larger skitter across the barn floor.

“Pick them up,” Wyatt says as he strips the empty pack from his back.

The fire in me is so hot, I can feel it smoldering, can smell the smoke. I rake off my shirt and chuck it at him.

A sudden shot of water hits my chest, resoaking my torso and splattering my face. I blink away the droplets and glare at Grandpa. He shrugs. “You looked hot. Am I right?”

I stand and shake off the water.

He smiles. “It might work.” His smile fades. “Now go pick up those rocks.”

I snatch one of the straps and drag the pack across the floor, collecting the rocks as I go. When I’m done, I deposit the bag at Wyatt’s feet.

He nods. “Let’s gear up.” He cinches a twenty-pound vest to my bare chest and a pair of heavy weights over my ankles. “I don’t know where Reece is, but until he shows his sorry ass, you’ll be doing what I tell you.” He tosses a jump rope at me, and I catch it. He pulls out his phone and begins to text someone. It’s got to be a girl. No guy smiles that cheesy when he’s texting some other dude. After a second, he frowns at me. “What are you waiting for? Start skipping.”

After a minute, he pockets the phone and crosses his arms over his chest. He circles me, an assessing slant to his eyes. “Anger takes away your ability to think and process information correctly. Your reactions slow and you’re more prone to make irrational choices. Those choices can get you into trouble. If you pay attention, I’ll teach you how to live smart.”

I give him a nod; it’s about all I can do as the rope whips over my head and under my feet. My skin tingles with the urge to use magic, and I resist showing him just how good my abilities are.

An hour goes by with me skipping rope, doing squats, chin-ups and sit-ups, and getting water sprayed at me. I don’t know what Wyatt thinks about Grandpa and his water fixation, but he takes it all in stride, yelling commands between texts and calls.

After the last drill, I’m doubled over, hands on knees and sucking down air. Grandpa’s distracted by a phone call. From what I can tell, it’s Grandma checking up on us. I’m surprised when Wyatt shoves a bottle of cold water at me. “You’ve earned it.”

I straighten. With shaking hands, I rip off the top and guzzle down half the bottle. Lowering it, I nod my head in thanks.

Wyatt slaps my back, motioning to my drowned appearance. “I’m not sure if he’s keeping you from getting heatstroke or he’s an old ballbuster getting his jollies, but it’s one hell of a show.”

I shrug, keep quiet, and quickly drain the last of my water.

He takes the empty water bottle and tosses it into a nearby trash bin. “Since it’s my job to get into your business…you look like shit. When’s the last time you slept? Really slept.”

I dozed on and off last night, but it’d been forever since I’d had a full night’s sleep. “I don’t remember.”

“You know, there’s lots of stuff that can keep you from optimal performance. I’m talking life, not just sports.”

“I get it. No drugs. No alcohol, and I need sleep.”

“That, and you need to tell me why your skin’s so hot it can melt metal.”

A sliver of alarm shoots up my neck. I look down to see what he’s talking about, and notice one of the old metal clasps riding my hip has melted and fused. Tiny drips of metal shimmer against my shorts.

“Now, I’m just a simple soldier, home on leave,” Wyatt says nonchalantly, but there’s an underlying tension that can’t be missed, “but even I know metal doesn’t melt without some serious heat.” He splays his fingers at me, revealing their red tips. “Touch fire, you get burned.”

I remember every time Wyatt switched exercises, he’d tap my shoulder. I thought he was simply getting my attention, focusing me on the task when I got angry, but he’d gotten burned, which made him curious. There’s no way he could’ve figured out how, so now he’s laying out his cards, showing me what he has in a ploy to get me to reveal what he couldn’t find.

And I’ve got nothing. There’s no logical explanation that will make him believe I’m an everyday, normal guy with anger issues.

“It’s complicated,” I finally say.

“I know you can’t tell by looking at me, but I’m a complex guy.”

“I thought you said you were a simple soldier?”

“I am, with deep complex issues swirling in my head, so listen up. Byzantine tactics are my specialty, which is funny, because I hate being tricked.” He takes a step closer in a way that feels threatening, and he lowers his voice. “You and your grandfather haven’t been honest with me.”

He isn’t going to let this go, but how much can I tell him? “Yes, we have. Lately I’ve been getting angry.”

“And…”

“Really angry.”

“And…”

“Out-of-control angry.”

“Don’t make me push. I’ll win. You know I will.”

“I light up.”

“You start hitting people? Typical teenage shit. I want to know what’s with the heat.”

He’s not getting it, and why would he? It’s not something someone would think possible. Since he’s standing there, waiting for me to continue, I decide to tell him the truth.

“I don’t hit. I do this.” I hold out my hand and uncurl my fingers. A ball of fire springs to life in the middle of my palm.

Wyatt rears back, his disbelief snapping from the ball of fire to my face. “What the hell kind of freak show are you?”

There it is. I’m sick of everyone telling me I don’t belong, that I’m unnatural. Faldon said it so often, I almost believed him. A burn of anger flashes in my gut. “And when I’m really angry, I do this.” The flame races up my arm and engulfs my body in a blink.

Wyatt jumps back and a sudden douse of water hits me, licking at the flames and cooling my skin until the fire dissolves under the onslaught. Grandpa stands with the hose gripped tight, his phone forgotten on the floor and his lips pressed into a thin line. “What don’t you understand about keeping this quiet, son?”

“Holy hot hell, what was that?” Wyatt yells.

I swipe the water off my face and rake my wet hair out of my eyes. “My problem.”

“You self-combust? That’s not a problem, that’s impossible!”

I throw my arms wide. “Apparently not.”

Grandpa tosses the hose down and storms over. His chest nearly smashes into Wyatt and he grabs the younger man’s shirtfront. “You value your life?”

“You threatening me, old man?”

“Do you have any doubts?” His fingers curve into a tight fist. “I can clear it up.”

Wyatt looks from me to Grandpa. He’s trying to make sense of what he saw. “He caught fire. Real fire. That’s…it’s…you weren’t honest with us.”

“I was as honest as I could be. Would you have believed me?”

Wyatt shakes his head. “I’m still not sure I saw what I saw.”

“He’s a good kid. He doesn’t need any more trouble. All I want from you is your word you’ll forget what you just saw.”

A long moment passes before Wyatt shakes his head. “I can’t.”

Grandpa pulls back his arm, his fist a solid hammer of meat. “Wrong answer.”

Right Place, Wrong Time

“It’s a dragon, Kera.” Leo cautiously moved to the left for a better view and licked his dry lips.

She tugged on the braided strip of ivy she’d rigged as a leash to keep Blaze’s attention on her instead of Leo. Wound around his jaws and neck, it also kept Blaze from spitting fire whenever he chose.

“’Course,” Leo dragged the word out nervously, “I’ve never seen one up close, or far away…well, not one this big. Faldon had a little one about as mean as a feral cat, but…yeah, from all the manga drawings and video games Jason and I have pored over, that’s a real big dragon.”

“Why are you so surprised? I told you I had a dragon.”

“I don’t know.” Leo folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head for a better look at Blaze. “I guess I was thinking along the lines of a tiny lizard you can buy at the pet store, not a fairy-tale creature that doesn’t exist.”

After all he’d seen, Leo still didn’t believe in what the human world deemed impossible? She tugged on Blaze’s leash when he stretched too close to poor Leo, who quickly jumped back. The dragon huffed, turned away, and stared over Kera’s shoulder at a section of the barrier separating the two realms.

Unlike the official gateway heavily guarded on both sides by men and iron, some areas of the barrier had deteriorated almost completely. The incordium blade Lani had used to slice through the barrier and secretly enter the human realm had damaged those places so badly, Kera didn’t even know how to begin to fix them. Left unguarded, those spots were perfect entry points for any creature to use. It’s how the monster came through, and fearing more would follow, she and Blaze had patrolled the area for most of the morning.

“Well, he exists and he needs looking after.”

“Are you suggesting you want me…oh crap, you are.” Leo’s dark skin turned a sickly tan. “Is he…dangerous?”

Her fingers caressed his knobby head and scratched under one of his loose scales until he purred. “I’d call him mischievous. He has a tiny temper, but if you keep him fed and play with him, he’s perfect.”

“How do you play with a dragon?”

“Hide-and-seek mostly.”

“Yeah,” Leo’s voice dipped. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

He was taking it all fairly well. Then again, she found it difficult to see past his comically stunned expression. “He needs more to eat.”

Leo took a step back, his face mirroring his wariness. “I’m not dinner, am I? Look at me.” He held out his arms and turned in a circle. “Scrawny. Chewing on me would be like chewing on the bones of last week’s dried-up supper.”

Kera ran her hand down Blaze’s bony back and smiled. “Bones are his favorite chew toys. The fresher the better.”

She tried not to smile, but Leo’s horrified expression had her giggling.

“Not funny,” he said, waggling a long finger in her face.

She finally caught her breath. “He’s actually quite affectionate. Tame…mostly. He’s growing fast and I can’t keep up with his appetite. I need to feed him properly.”

Though Leo had relaxed, he still didn’t move any closer to Blaze and leaned against a nearby tree thoughtfully. “Tanner butchered the cows your people fried when they came over to play the other day.”

That Leo could equate the destruction of what Navar and his minions had done to the human realm as play took Kera aback. She still had a hard time understanding many of his odd phrases, but she understood this one. Navar loved killing. To him it had been fun.

“I’m thinking, since Tanner can’t sell the meat—big shock none of his vendors trust him—I could get it cheap, but it’s still going to cost.” He pulled out a crisp twenty and handed it over. “This is all I have.”

“I can try to replicate it—”

“And bring down the FBI on our heads? No, thank you! They go ballistic about that kind of stuff here. I don’t want to end up rotting in some secret jail cell for the rest of my life.” He snatched the money back. “Too bad you’re not a jewelry junkie. We could sell the gold.”

“Gold?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty easy to off-load at this pawn shop I know. The guy doesn’t ask too many questions when something shiny is placed on the table.”

She rubbed her thumb across her bottom lip, concerned with the consequences of what had popped into her mind. “Come,” she told Leo, and tugged on the leash for Blaze to follow.

Leo’s long-legged walk quickly brought him beside her. “Where are we going?”

She needed to concentrate and held her finger to her lips for silence. Sending out her magic, she probed the earth for gold flakes, and found traces of gold in a stream up ahead. As if they were magnetized, the flakes pressed together, slowly building into a bigger nugget.

When they came to the stream, she waded into the middle and plunged her hands into the cold water. Minutes ticked by, but she stood still. Waiting.

The click and clatter of rock hitting rock grew louder and then suddenly stopped. When she drew her hands out of the water, she held a yellow, bony rock. She retreated from the water, using magic to instantly dry her clothes as she went. It was hard for her not to stop and marvel at the accomplishment. The more she flexed her magic, the stronger she seemed to become. The feeling was addicting. Her confidence soared like never before. Kera stopped in front of Leo and presented the rock. “Here.”

The rock glittered in her hand, but Leo didn’t move to take it. “Gold jewelry, yes. A huge there’s-gold-in-them-there-hills rock? Are you out of your mind? I can’t sell that in town. People would ask questions. Overrun this place.” He stepped closer, the flesh around his lips pinched. “People have been known to kill for half of what you’re holding.”

Her confidence wavered. There was so much she still didn’t understand about the human realm, but she wouldn’t give up because of one slight miscalculation. She knew all sorts of tricks, theoretically, and had done a few using the magic she’d borrowed from her father, but that magic was never consistent. Until now, she’d never had her own powers. It would be interesting to see how far they extended.

She closed her fist and when she opened it, a bright gold necklace sat in a shining heap within the middle of her palm. The world tipped for a brief second, giving her a woozy feeling, but it didn’t stop the grin that split her lips. It had worked better than she thought. She dangled the necklace over his hand, and let it drop. “Better?”

He examined the necklace. “Yeah.” Excitement glimmered from his eyes. “Hey, do you do that all the time, ’cause chicks dig stuff like this, and it’d be totally sweet if you could—”

“No.” He didn’t understand the cost of magic. It drained the body, and if done too much, could kill, and she was still very much a novice.

“Oh.” Disappointment clouded his face. “It was just a thought.”

“Using magic for selfish reasons is frowned upon in my world, but you and I have no choice. We can’t let Blaze suffer for lack of funds.”

“Right, ’cause there’s no personal agenda when it comes to saving your metabolically challenged dragon here.” Leo whipped his hair out of his eyes. “Actually, is it wise to do anything? They were hunted into extinction for a reason.”

Kera gasped.

“You’re right, that was bad of me. Sorry, bro…I mean, Kera. Forget I said anything. It’ll take me, I don’t know, a couple of hours to pawn the necklace and get the meat. I’ll meet you back here,” he said in his low, smooth voice, then paused. “You will be here, right? I’m not into death by dragon meltdown.”

“Blaze knows you now. He’ll behave, especially if you have food for him.”

Leo eyed the dragon like a farmer does an unruly pig. “Does he need to sniff me or something?”

People from the human realm were so strange. “Not unless you want him to.”

“I’m totally into the no-dragon-sniffing option.” Leo shook his head and laughed. “Seriously, I never imagined myself saying that. Ever.” He pocketed the necklace and backed away. “See you soon.”

He left, his long legs eating up the ground.

Kera sat on a boulder. Blaze heated his scales and rubbed them into a dull shine against the nearby tree trunks. He was a problem she hadn’t expected, and one she couldn’t ignore. If he continued to grow bigger as the days progressed, soon she wouldn’t be able to hide him. She had to get him back to her world, but try as she might, he had refused to cross through the barrier. He’d found someone he trusted and wasn’t about to leave.

Blaze gave the leash a sharp tug, drawing Kera’s attention to him. “Not now, Blaze.”

Smoke swirled from the dragon’s flared nostrils. His ears radared behind his nubby horns. He held himself stiff. Alert. Kera sat straighter and peered into the forest. “What’s wrong?”

Blaze lifted his nose in the air and snuffed smoke as black as pitch. He tugged and tugged, yanking Kera off her perch until she had no choice but to follow. They didn’t go far when she heard the click and thrash of broken wings.

Her skin flashed cold. Sweat dotted her temples. It couldn’t be.

She didn’t hesitate. She unleashed Blaze and drew her incordium dagger. The dragon crouched, his hot eyes focused within the trees, ready to spring at the threat coming their way.

The clicks and grunts grew louder, but with it the sound of prey running for its life. Twigs snapped. Thick undergrowth rustled. The heavy breathing of panic grew louder, and an instant later, a man plunged toward Kera through the trees, his eyes wide with fear.

“Go!” he shouted, waving his arm. He suddenly winced. His chest thrust forward and he staggered, then fell face-first onto the ground. Two millispits, their pulsing, venomous tails and serrated fingers sunk deep, clung to his back. They were imperfectly created from magic to do one thing—kill anything that moved and then die.

Kera peered behind him. The hated creatures surged within the shadows of the forest, the ground rolling as if alive. There were hundreds of them.

A throaty growl erupted from Blaze and he sprang forward, spitting balls of fire at the oncoming millispits. Kera pulled the now-dead creatures from the man’s back. Bending over him, she slipped her arm around his rib cage. With an insistent tug, she yelled, “Get up.”

He struggled to his feet, using her shoulders as leverage, but as soon as he was upright, he drooped over her. She hugged his waist tight and commanded a mound of dirt to rise beneath their feet. Dirt riding was the fastest way she could get the human to safety. She didn’t worry about Blaze. The smell of burnt millispits and the sound of their tails and sharp fingers pinging off the dragon’s impenetrable scales as they swarmed over him followed her deeper into the woods.

The forest thickened and the ground grew uneven. Kera struggled to keep the man close. An especially deep dip and rise caused him to groan. His knees buckled and Kera couldn’t hold on to him. He crashed to the ground, pulling her with him. Her elbows dug into the earth, her palms scraping against all manner of forest debris. She pushed off him and swiped a hand across his too-pale face and down to the vein at his neck. It flickered shallow. Too weak. “Stay alive,” she said, though it was most likely a useless command.

She couldn’t allow this man to die, not when it was her fault for not being able to stop the millispits from invading the human realm. What she was about to do would either see him better or kill him.

She rolled him onto his stomach, raked his shirt up, and held her hands over the bloody spots on his back where the millispits had landed. Calling on her new powers, her hands lit up. He bucked under the magic as she drew out as much of the poison as she could. It seeped out, burning the man’s skin and blackening the soil beneath him.

He’d live, but not without a fair bit of care. She estimated the distance back to Dylan’s home. Too far. Plus they’d have to go through the millispits to get there. He couldn’t survive another sting. The barrier and help without needless questions was close. Her choice was clear. She rolled him onto his back and stared into his face. Icy blue eyes filled with pain stared back at her. He didn’t appear as pale as before. Color now flushed his cheeks. “We must move. Now. Can you do it?”

“What you just did…who are you?”

“A friend. Please, ask me no more questions. Do as I say and we may both live.”

He used her to gain his feet, and when she assessed his condition for travel, his pinched lips parted. “Do you know Lani? Are you from her world?”

Kera stilled. How did he know about Teag? How did anyone but Dylan know? It was her turn to throw him a bewildered look. “Who are you?”

“Reece. Take me to her. Please.”

Fired Up

It’s as if time slows for a brief second as I watch Grandpa’s arm tick back, his fist tighten, ready to pummel, and then time snaps into hyperdrive. Wyatt grabs Grandpa’s left shoulder with his right hand, ducks under Grandpa’s arm and pushes away to a safe distance. “That’s called a near-side duck under. Normally I’d throw you down, but I don’t want to hurt you, old man.”

Grandpa spins around, the hard lines of his face turning to stone. His hands flash up, ready for a fight. “The day you can hurt me will be the day I retire.”

Wyatt faces him. “Careful. You always told me you don’t make promises you’re not willing to keep.” He bats away Grandpa’s punches like a cat batting at a cornered mouse. “You know you can’t beat me.”

“All a man needs is one shot. Pay attention, Dylan,” Grandpa barks over his shoulder at me.

I’m not sure what to do. I feel like an idiot just standing here, watching, but it’s not my fight. Not yet. If it comes down to winning, I’d be more than happy to knock a rock against Wyatt’s head, but I’m not sure it would do any good.

Grandpa slips away from Wyatt’s jabs and comes back with a hard left hook to the younger man’s ribs and a solid right cross to his face. “That’s called stepping onto your opponent’s over-inflated ego and smacking it down.”

Wyatt shakes off the hits and smiles. “It’s what I call a fluke, you old bastard.”

Grandpa’s deep bark of laughter shakes the rafters as he follows his opponent across the floor. “It’s training, son. Pure, hard-core, no-nonsense training.”

“My training tells me the kid’s dangerous. People need to know. They need to be able to protect themselves.”

“He’s a good boy,” Grandpa throws a combination punch that only grazes Wyatt’s torso. “You’re making it sound like he’s a menace to society.”

Wyatt spins away, pivots, squats low, and jabs his body forward. His shoulder slams into Grandpa’s midsection as he sweeps the older man’s legs out from under him, causing him to hit the ground with a grunt.

With hands out in a submissive manner, Wyatt steps back. “I don’t want to hurt you, Newman.”

I take a step forward, not sure if I should be worried or not. “Grandpa?”

He waves me back. “I’m fine. That was pure luck on his part.”

Wyatt points a finger in Grandpa’s face. “It’s called a double-leg takedown. Very effective on those who are too stubborn to know better than to pick a fight with me.”

Grandpa rolls to his feet and wipes the sweat from his eyes. “I’m giving you one more chance. Keep your mouth shut.”

“It’s not going to happen. Besides, people are going to notice when he suddenly lights up, or burns down the forest because he gets all pissy. I’m sworn to protect, just like you. Your grandson is a threat to the well-being of everyone around here. This isn’t about a kid with a hair-trigger temper. This is about a kid who’s a walking weapon, so back down, old man.”

“We came to you for help. It’s a sad day when neighbors stop giving a damn.”

Grandpa throws a double jab. Wyatt fakes to the right, rotates to the left, and Grandpa shoots in. He grabs Wyatt’s hand and kinks it into an abnormal position, dropping Wyatt to his knees. A wince covers his face and a curse flies from his lips.

Bending close, Grandpa growls, “This is what we old guys call a twist-his-arm-until-he-does-exactly-what-I-tell-him-to-do.” He swivels around and braces Wyatt’s arm in a hold that looks cry-worthy painful. “If you don’t back off, I’ll break it.”

I can hear Wyatt sucking in air, fighting the pain the wrestling hold is creating. “You’re a cop.”

“I’m off duty. Trust me. It’s the spirit of the law that applies here. You’re threatening the well-being of my grandson, and I have the right to defend him.”

Wyatt struggles, but in the end, Grandpa has him good and caught. “Okay, okay. I won’t talk. Like you said, who would believe me? What he can do isn’t logical. Hell, it’s impossible.”

“Swear it.”

“I swear to God I won’t say a word. I won’t have to. He’ll draw attention to himself. I hope you know what you’re doing, old man.”

Grandpa lets go, and Wyatt hisses his relief as he cradles his arm to his chest and tests its motion.

Their encounter has my blood sweeping through my veins like an Indy race car on its last lap. “So now what?”

“We go home,” Grandpa says, clenching and unclenching his left hand. I think he’s hurt it, but knowing him, he won’t admit it.

Although the clasp is melted, I can still slip the belts free, and I let the weight vest drop to the floor, along with the ankle weights. I swipe up my T-shirt from where I tossed it and shrug it on. “Why did we come here? All we did was create more problems.”

By the end of the day, all our neighbors will know who and what I am. Kera and I will have to leave.

Wyatt hops to his feet and follows Grandpa like a pit bull after its favorite doggie toy. “I told you I wouldn’t talk, but you’ve got to think this through, Newman. Your boy here gets mad, he lights up. It’s impossible!”

“So you keep telling us,” I sneer.

He ignores me and harps after Grandpa. “Do you know how long he can light up without burning up? Everything is exhaustible. That fact should apply even to him. We’re all created with limits, right?”

I can see Grandpa weighing the odds of leaving versus listening. I don’t like it. I start toward the door. “Let’s go, Grandpa. We don’t need him anymore. I can deal with this on my own.” And I can. All I need to do is exhaust myself to the point where I don’t want to think, let alone catch fire.

“Boy,” Grandpa shouts, stopping me in my tracks, “what did I tell you about letting your crow get bigger than your cockscomb?”

I’m not sure what he’s talking about, and I’m scared to ask.

“You’ve got more to learn than you think,” he adds, then turns to Wyatt. “What are you suggesting?”

“Wait here.” He scrounges in the storeroom and pops out holding a firefighter’s suit. “I’ve got the protective gear. We should test him out. Find that edge, that place where he breaks.”

This guy was all for turning me over to the pitchfork-wielding townspeople à la Frankenstein, and now he wants to help the monster? I take a protective step back. “I’m not sure…”

Grandpa’s suddenly bobbing his head in agreement. “You may have a point.”

Deep in my bones, I know it’s a bad idea. From the moment Kera opened my eyes to what I really am, to the melting of the metal clasp, I know my limits are far and beyond what they should be. If Faldon’s right, every time I was forced to kill someone, I inherited new powers. I may have limits, but they’re so far out there, testing them may very well get someone else killed.

I try again. “Kera says I should only use magic when absolutely necessary.” I remember the first time I’d used it and the sick feeling that rushed over me, how I couldn’t even walk, and the mess I’d left behind. Grandpa means well, but neither of them have any idea what they’re in for. “Pushing myself can upset the balance of nature. What you’re suggesting is dangerous.”

“Don’t fool yourself, kid,” Wyatt says as he stuffs one leg into the fireproof suit. “You walking around is dangerous.” The suit slides up Wyatt’s other leg. “How many people know about you, bonfire boy?”

“Not many.” Grandpa hands Wyatt a pair of fireman boots. “People would think we’re running on half a tank if I said anything. If you hadn’t seen it for yourself, you wouldn’t have believed us.”

A sharp, short laugh erupts from Wyatt as he jerks on a boot. “No doubt.”

How’d they go from beating each other up to buddies in less than a minute? Watching Grandpa help Wyatt suit up is surreal. “This is crazy. I know what I’m capable of doing and it’s not something you want to see.”

Grandpa snorts. “Already seen it, remember?”

Wyatt looks from me to Grandpa, his face reflecting his intense interest. “Umm, yeah, I’m pretty sure I want to see it again.”

I can feel the anger grow in my belly. To Grandpa, I’m someone who needs discipline. To Wyatt I’m a weird phenomenon he can’t wait to experiment on.

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Calm yourself,” Grandpa says. “We need to see if we can control what sets you off, or at least regulate the reaction. Then you’re safer. We’re all safer. That’s what we came here to do in the first place, right? Make you safer. That reminds me. I should get the hose.”

“What? We’re doing it here? In the barn? It’s made out of wood. Does that not ring any alarms?”

“We can’t do it outside where everyone can see,” Wyatt says as if I’m the dumbest person alive.

“Don’t worry, son.” Grandpa slaps me on the back. “I’ve got you covered.” And off he trots to get the hose.

“Seriously, kid. Show a little trust,” Wyatt adds.

Wow, this guy’s been hit in the head one too many times if he thinks I’m going to trust him. “Aren’t you the one who wanted to rat me out five seconds ago?”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs. “Now I don’t.”

My instincts scream at me to run. I don’t, and I’m not sure why. I voice my objections one last time. “I’m gonna go down as saying this is a really bad idea.”

Grandpa turns to Wyatt. “I say we use the industrial hose your daddy has at the shop.”

Wyatt throws him a thumbs-up and lumbers off. I clasp my head between my hands and spin away. My nerves crackle under the surface of my skin. “Grandma is going to kill us.”

“Stop digging in that well. It’s deep enough. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” He grabs my arm and hauls me to the center of the barn and scuffs a black X on the floor with his boot heel. “Stand right there. Now, when I say so, go ahead and light up. Don’t push yourself too much. We want to see how hot you burn normally.”

This is a disaster, one I can’t step away from even if I want to…which I do, but I’m good and stuck. What’s that old saying? If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em? I might as well jump into the mudhole they’re making and wallow around with them.

Resigned to my fate, I step onto the X.

Wyatt jogs back in with a coiled water hose hanging heavily in his arms. The boom when he drops it shakes the floor. They hook it up to a specialized spout, and then Grandpa, his feet planted wide, the hose tucked under his right armpit, shoots a stream hard enough to peel paint along the ground.

“Don’t want the floor to catch fire.” He cranks the water off and motions Wyatt forward.

Wyatt shoves on his masked helmet, and immediately goes into Darth Vader mode. I roll my eyes and shake my head. Why do I feel like I’m in a Jackass movie waiting for the stupid to drop?

“Okay, son.” Grandpa grips the hose tight. “Light up.”

When I’m not on an emotional joyride, calling forth the flames takes a bit more concentration. I hold out my hand and visualize the fire crawling through me and to my palm. A few seconds later, the fireball pops to life, flickering against my skin, tickling me where it would burn someone else.

“Cute,” Wyatt’s muffled voice says from behind the fireman’s mask. “Can you manage something a little more threatening?”

When the fire is alive, it does something to me. It heats up my blood, like I’ve just won a fistfight and I need to cool down. I want to let all the heat out as fast as possible. I need to let it out.

The flickering orb grows until it’s nearly the size of a basketball. I take aim and pitch it toward Wyatt. It bursts against his torso, sending him flying backward. He lands butt-first on the ground and skids until he hits the wall.

The hose drops from Grandpa’s armpit as he takes a step forward. “Wyatt! You okay?”

Wyatt’s helmeted head shakes as if he’s rattling his brains back into working order, and a string of curses fly.

Grandpa snorts and then mutters, “He’s okay.”

Fifteen minutes later, we’ve stacked some hay bales behind Wyatt, and thoroughly wet them down. “It’ll still hurt like hell,” Grandpa says to Wyatt, “but you shouldn’t break anything. You good to go?”

“I’m game. Let’s do this.”

Adrenaline junkie. That’s got to be his excuse. Who else would do something this stupid? I position myself back on the X, and when everyone is ready, I call the flame to my hand. At first it tickles, like a feather. The little ball is a friendly light, playful and easy to control.

Grandpa shifts the hose higher. “Let ’er rip, Dylan.”

“This isn’t a good idea,” I say one last time. I don’t know why I bother; he’s not listening.

As if I need encouragement, Wyatt starts calling me names that would make a prison guard blush. Usually being taunted never bothered me, but since I’ve gotten back from Teag, it doesn’t take much to stir the heat. I narrow my gaze and let the fire engulf me.

It’s strange, the way it crawls up my skin like a snake curling around a branch until it’s stretched along the limb waiting to strike. It flickers in front of my eyes, and everything I see is bathed in a warm glow. That glow grows until it burns against my heart.

My lashes wipe the flames away for a second and then they pop back, dancing wildly. Sharp, brutal images flash in my mind. I don’t recognize them as my own. I grit my teeth. My heart pounds. Anger floods my gut and the fire brightens.

Water strikes my feet. A sharp sizzle sounds as the flames lick at the water, turning it into steam. I see Wyatt lumber forward in his suit. I can’t hear what he’s saying; only the seductive hiss of fire is in my ears…and it wants to be free.

Wyatt tosses one of those silver fireproof blankets over me. I flare, turning the blanket into ash. As the gray flakes spiral away, I see flames skittering overhead and Grandpa chasing them with water. No matter what he does, the fire crawls along the ground and ripples up the walls. The hay bales behind Wyatt smoke. Soon flames finger their way through the feed.

A hacking cough erupts from Grandpa as the thick, dark smoke builds, curling upward as it presses down. Wyatt pushes him toward the door and takes up the hose. He blasts me with water, thinking he can put out the flames. At first it seems to work. The flames recede. Steam rushes into the air, building a wall around me. For a second I remember who I am, but the fire is insistent and flashes along my skin again. “Get out!” I cry before it engulfs me completely.

Wyatt sprays me again. This time the fire refuses to die. All around us the building has become a living beast of flame. He tosses the hose down and runs for the door. I can feel the power rushing into my body, the fire curling back on itself like a lung filling with air. There’s no way I can stop it. Suddenly, my body arches. Fire bursts from me, rocking the building, tearing it from its foundation and blasting the structure into the air. The power of the explosion rockets the debris high into the sky before it whizzes to the ground like fiery missiles.

When the smoke clears, I’m no longer burning. I’m standing on a ragged piece of charred wood, but not for long. Gravity shifts, and I fall to my knees. My head spins, and as my vision tunnels, I see Grandpa and Wyatt rush toward me.

“You’re okay,” I manage to say, and then I tip forward as the world goes black.

Trust Is a Fragile Thing

The haze sucks me into a dream, something I’ve tried to avoid since the disturbing ones I had before I was released from the hospital. I’m standing in a darkly lit room. The faint shadow of a low bed stretches out near one wall. Closer to me is a small rickety table with basin and pitcher. The stone walls are slick. Water drips. The colors, all grays and browns and blacks, blink dully in the dim light. I hear the flutter of wings, and I whip around. “Who’s there?”

Nothing comes forward. My dreams always carry a sliver of fuzzy truth, and I struggle to find what’s real and what isn’t. The room shudders, as if the walls are taking a deep breath.

It’s odd for me to be alone in a dream. I take a step forward, and immediately get jerked to a stop. Chains fold over my chest, drag to the floor, wrap around my ankles, and slither off into the darkened corners. I shrug, feeling their weight pressing down on me.

I don’t know what they’re made of. Not iron. Whatever it is, the metal has its own power. Keeping me still. Weighing me down. Depressing me in a way that makes me want to curl up and never move again.

I fight the feeling and struggle to be free. The chains cut into my skin.

“The more you fight, the tighter they become,” sounds a deep voice.

I twirl around, and from out of the darkness emerges the man who haunted my dreams when I was in the hospital. Like before, his clothes are tattered, his hair shaggy. Inky crescents mar the skin beneath his eyes. The starved line to his jaw makes hunger gnaw at my own belly.

“Dylan. Do you know who I am?”

Only because Kera told me. “The Lost King.”

Baun. My father. Though I don’t feel any familial warmth toward him.

“Very good.” His lips tilt into a half smile, though his eyes remain dull. “I know all about you.”

Something isn’t right. My skin itches and my head feels soft. I have to concentrate in order to understand everything he’s saying.

His own chains clatter as he moves closer. “About now, you should be feeling the strain of your added powers.”

His face swims in front of mine, distorted like the image in a funhouse mirror. My stomach clenches, and I force myself not to bend over in pain. “What’s wrong with me? I’ve never felt like this before.”

Every time I visited Kera in our dream world, I’d felt invincible.

Baun moves closer. I try to step back, but the chains keep me still. He stops. “When you defeated Navar, you absorbed his powers, including those he stole from me.” He raises his hand, and the surge of power trying to escape my body sends me to my knees, gasping for breath. His fingers glow softly and he breathes deeply as if savoring a top-cut steak.

I groan, and he suddenly steps back. “My powers want to return to their rightful owner, but they can’t.”

He closes his eyes, murmurs something, and then opens his eyes. “Better?”

The strange feelings slowly dissipate. I nod.

“Do you know why I’ve brought you here, into my dreams?”

“You said before that I have something you want.” It didn’t take the collective effort of a bunch of astrophysicists to know what he meant. He wants his powers back.

The chains chink together as he walks around the tiny room, an eerie musical score to his movements. They don’t appear to weigh him down like they do me, but then again, he’s worn his chains for nearly as long as I’ve lived while I’ve had mine on for only a few minutes.

“Imagine yourself carrying my chains not for a day, but for years. More years than you can remember. Imagine how desperate you’d become.” A strange light burns behind his eyes. “Slightly mad even.”

The intensity rolling off of him is a little unsettling, and I mutter, “From what I hear, you weren’t all that stable to begin with.”

The light burns brighter behind his eyes. “I had vision. A hope for something better.” His voice softens. “Yet a man learns his flaws when he has nothing but time to contemplate what chains him.”

Bad guy learns lesson. “Yay for rehabilitation.” I shrug. “What do you want from me?”

“My freedom.”

I look down at the chains holding me still and then back at him. “Does it look like I can help you?”

“The pux sense the part of me that’s in you, thus the chains. Their weight is only a ghost of what I carry.”

“Great.” Like that explains everything, and if that’s true, how the hell can he move? “Look, I don’t know what delusional state you’re under, but I can’t help you.”

A tic appears in his jaw. “You can.”

So, all those years, he didn’t have any need to contact me, until now, when he needs help…and he’s desperate for it by the look of him.

I laugh. “Why should I? I haven’t heard one good thing about you.”

He’s in front of me before my next blink. A tall, angry, desperate man. Nothing good ever comes from that combination.

“Do you know what the pux do?” He rakes up what’s left of his sleeve and thrusts his arm under my nose. A series of deep wounds, some new, many old, track up and down his skin. He bends near; his mouth twists in disgust. “They’re evil little fiends that take pleasure in others’ pain. They feed off emotion. Extreme feelings are the sugar coating that makes their pathetic lives livable.”

The sound of wings fluttering outside the door catches our attention. He takes a deep breath and calms himself. “I’ve learned to mold my emotions into a bland existence. It’s how I’ve survived this long.” Tears shimmer in his eyes, and he blinks them away. “I’m about to break, Dylan. Death is seducing me toward the peace I crave.”

His arm drops, and he pulls himself together. “I’m asking for compassion, something my kind has thrown away. Once condemned, forever condemned.”

He doesn’t sound like I expect. He should be bitter, but he sounds sad. Something about him feels off. I want to leave, but he demands my attention. “But you. You know about second chances. You can help me.”

He’s hit a nerve. I craved a new beginning, and I was given one. How can I refuse him? Except the last time I saw Baun, he was in the woods and the pux appeared to be doing his bidding, not torturing him. “I don’t know…”

“You’re my son. My own flesh and blood.”

Playing on the family card isn’t smart. It reminds me of all the problems I had growing up with a mother who cared more for herself than anyone else. Where was he when she went on her monthly rampages? Where was he when the guy-of-the-moment shared his anger issues with a closed fist? I don’t need another messed-up parent who thinks he can guilt me into doing whatever he wants. “You abandoned me and my mother. I may be your son, but you’re not my father.”

“She left me,” he hisses.

There’s no doubt Mom is messed up, but he has to take some responsibility for the woman she became, though he’s hardly the demonic madman Kera painted him. He barely looks like a man, more shriveled soul than maniacal tyrant.

“You didn’t take her with you. You knew what that would do to her. Kera told me. Our kind loves deeply, but the humans, they become enslaved. You ruined her forever.”

“It was not my intent. If she had only waited…but she fled. I vowed if ever I broke free of these chains, I would find her.”

“And do what?”

His voice drops so low I can barely hear him. “End her torment.”

“How?”

“We are only whole when we are together. I will keep her close to me always.” He turns away and drags his feet back into the shadows. “If you will not help me, then we have nothing further to discuss.”

His shoulders sag as his shuffled steps expose his defeat. He’s so alone…completely and utterly alone. It actually makes me wonder. “Even if I wanted to help you, I can’t.”

“You have the power to do so much, but you are too weak to use it. Your imagination is too small.”

If I have so much power, how can I be weak? The mess coming out of his mouth is the type of parental support I’m used to. Mom and Mr. I-Lost-It-All/Woe-Is-Me are perfect for each other.

“You don’t know me,” I snap. “You don’t know what I can do.”

“Your talents aren’t an eighth of mine,” his voice booms from the darkness. “I would show you how to control the powers surging through you, to use what you’ve been given, but why show an ant an elephant’s strength?”

“An ant can lift twenty times his body weight. An elephant can’t even lift his own.” Take that, old man.

Baun chuckles, but it’s not a pleasant sound. “When has an ant ever crushed an elephant?” The shadows shift as he lies down, turning his back on me and ending our meeting.

Instantly the dream blackens, and I’m swimming in a void. For once, my dream isn’t paired with the distorted images of death. It only shows me my own doubts and insecurities and the sharp edges of “what if.”

Unwanted

The caves that hid those tainted with human blood loomed ahead. Dragging a one hundred and ninety pound weakling with her caused her shoulders to ache and her back to spasm. She should have reached the caves by now. Frustrated, she settled Reece against a tree, calling the moss beneath him to thicken. He immediately closed his eyes and let out a huge sigh of relief. She touched his forehead with the back of her hand, checking for a fever.

He cracked open his red-rimmed eyes and stared at her. He hadn’t said much, but then he’d been concentrating, much like her, on putting one foot in front of the other. Lips pale blue, eyes shadowed darkly, and skin the shade of rancid butter, he looked awful.

She produced a flask of cool water and a serving of bread and cheese and placed it in his hands. The act of summoning whatever she wanted was becoming easier, but because of her, someone would most likely go hungry tonight. She had yet to learn how to pick an item from a specific location, so whatever she needed was plucked from close by. Even she couldn’t make something out of nothing.

“Nice trick.” His voice was weak and shaky, but calm. “Can I ask you a question?”

Kera held her breath and nodded.

“Exactly where are we? I know we’re in Teag, but what does that mean?”

“Teag is part of a bigger realm attached to your world. We share the same ground, but in a different way. No one talks about how it’s done, just that it is. Entering the human realm is forbidden to us. It wasn’t always so. We were your healers. Your wise men. Your philosophers and artists. We were a gift from God to the humans. Jealousy and fear turned your kind against us. Humans kill what they don’t understand. We returned to our land and the borders were sealed. We are better off without the humans. That is the official explanation.”

“And the unofficial one?”

“We are manipulators, given to the earth to keep it balanced. Yet we are easily insulted, and if that happens we can create more havoc than the devil. As your kind progressed, we began to fear you. We are not creatures who easily accept change. Humans have always forced that upon us, though we profited from it.

“Firsts cannot lie, but humans…they wallow in lies. So when they were brought into Teag, a disruption occurred. Powers were born to half-bloods who could lie. It strained the balance of Teag. Where we once could believe a man on his word alone, it became impossible. At first, any with human blood were driven out of Teag, but they always found their way back and integrated further with our people. Then a war began. It was small at first, occasionally receding but never dying out. It lasted for two hundred years. It only ended when Dylan’s father was thrown into exile and the wall was permanently closed. The humans who remained either became slaves or went into hiding. Even as weak as they had become, Navar still feared the humans, and hunted them down until only a few were left.”

“And that’s why Lani used her dagger on the wall, cutting a hole through it so she could cross and be safe?” Reese asked.

“It was a daring move, one born out of desperation.”

“I’m glad she did it. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Kera gave him a sad smile. She wished she could agree with him. She couldn’t. Lani lost her life because of what she did, and the wall continued to disintegrate, no matter what the council tried. Teag needed a leader. Teag needed Dylan, but he represented the troubles—all the bloodshed and pain of their past—and Kera was no fool to believe they would accept him.

“Eat,” she said and rose.

He tore off a small chunk of cheese and ate, though he kept his eyes on her. “It’s strange. You look like me, but you’re not like me at all.”

The implication that she was different snapped her spine straighter. “I’m exactly like you.”

But that was a lie. She was a full-fledged first now. And then it hit her. The spell that kept the firsts out of the area was keeping her out. No matter what she did, she wouldn’t be able to break through the barrier.

“Damn and be damned,” she muttered.

Reece shifted, his movements groggy. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, but whispered under her breath, “Everything.”

Because of her impetuousness, they were stuck in the forest. It wasn’t like her. She had to start thinking before she acted.

Facing north, she wondered what her father was doing. Did he miss her? Was he safe?

Her father’s warning before she’d left for the human realm echoed in her head.

A somber spirit circled his eyes, highlighting how tired he was. “Promise me, Kera, that you will look deeply into Dylan’s heart. He is the son of a man who has a tenuous grip on reality. I did not see it until it was too late. Mark my words, where there is a love of power, there lies evil.”

“Don’t you mean the potential for evil? Everyone has that.” She rose on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “You are wrong about Dylan. He is good. As good as I am.”

His countenance didn’t ease as he lingered on her face. “Let us pray you are correct.”

Dylan had begun to exhibit strange magical episodes, but he was still caring, passionate, and loyal. He had her heart, and she trusted him. He would work through the growing pains of their added power, just like she needed to do.

“Finish eating,” she said to Reece. “I’ll be right back.”

Moving away, she drew her dagger and made a quick circle of the area. Her whole life she’d leaned on her natural abilities to fight. Her skills had impressed everyone. But now that she was in Teag, she could feel her newfound powers stretch and rise beneath her skin, stronger, more insistent. It took all she had not to give in to the urge to let out the magic. But why? Why deny what was now a natural part of her?

As she stepped, she dragged her fingers along the bushes. Flowers bloomed as though it were full summer. She called an owl to hand, stroked its head, and set it free. Overhead, she wove a canopy out of tree limbs and climbing plants, and as she walked, rose petals fell. Soon her path was deep in their colors of red and pink and white and yellow, her feet crushing out the scent. Behind her, the canopy slid apart, and the petals slowly curled until they were brown and dry.

Ahead, the woods grew thick with brush. She bent and peeked within the brambles. The animals quickly took to their burrows. She straightened, confused. These were her woods. She knew them well, yet tension filled the air and she couldn’t place its source. Not a sign of trouble. Not even a whiff of enmity. It appeared as if her father had been able to calm the unrest. Everything seemed normal, but not.

She whispered her dilemma into the wind and sent it toward the caves. She could only hope someone would hear her request. Being locked out of their safe haven had her as jittery as a worm on a hook. She felt exposed. Vulnerable. She had to either get help for Reece soon or risk going back to the human realm with their questions she couldn’t answer.

She returned to Reece, no more confident than when she’d left, and hovered in front of him. “How do you feel?”

“Like a truck hit me and I bounced into the gutter.” He shifted again and winced. “I don’t think I was made to bounce.”

She smiled. Any man who could find humor in his circumstances was worth knowing. She could see why Lani liked him. “Signe will see you better in no time.” A promise she was sure of, if only she could see him safely to her friend.

As if on cue, a boy who was known to follow Lani around on her patrols appeared. His bow riding across his back looked nearly as big as he was. For more years than he had been alive, the humans had to walk softly in the woods. They weren’t welcome in Teag and survived on handouts and luck. Allowing a child to wander the woods alone might seem odd to some, but Kera knew Halim. At the age of five, he’d seen both parents murdered and had fended for himself for months until Lani and Kera found him. Every time they sought to limit his excursions, he managed to outsmart whoever was watching him and ended up doing exactly as he pleased.

He stood before her, skin and clothes streaked with dirt and face set with a frown, but all Kera saw was a friend. She took a step forward. “Halim. You came. I wasn’t sure my call would find anyone. I am glad to see you.”

“What do you want?”

The suspicion in his voice made her hesitate. “I-I need to get this man to Signe. He needs help. He’s a friend of Lani’s. Can you take us through the protection spell?”

Halim peered over at Reece, who gave him a weak nod. The boy’s eyes were filled with wariness more suited to an old man. When he returned his attention to Kera, his lips thinned. “You should go back to the human realm where you are safe from what’s been happening here.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. She didn’t know what was happening in Teag. It seemed calm enough. “Teag is my home. It always will be. Please help us?”

The furrow between his eyes deepened. “The council blames Dylan for our troubles, as do the rest of us. He’s not wanted here.” He glared at Reece. “Or anyone like him.”

“I’m like Dylan,” she reminded him. “Does it include me?”

A long moment stretched by before he shook his head. “Follow me.”

Kera quickly bent to help Reece to his feet. “Wait. Halim!”

He didn’t look back.

Reece’s body shook with laughter that left him cringing. When he recovered, he sighed. “Compassionate little shit, isn’t he?”

Clearly the boy felt Kera had abandoned them for the human realm, and in a way, she had. Clearly they blamed Dylan for their current troubles. Did everyone honestly believe a power-hungry warlord like Navar was the best choice for Teag? She could understand the council’s elitist mentality. It would never change, but Dylan had freed so many from the threat of death and oppression that hung over them.

They tagged after the boy, and with each step, Reece grew heavier along with her worry. “Hang on. We’re almost there.”

When they finally broke through the trees, Halim stood waiting for them in the open space in front of the caves. He looked up from sharpening his knife and snorted. “You made it. Didn’t think he had it in him. He looks half-dead.”

“I feel half-dead,” Reece muttered.

“Where’s Signe? Didn’t you tell her I was here?”

Halim pocketed his knife. “She’s inside.”

When he moved past her to leave, she touched his arm, stopping him. “Help him, Halim.” The command in her voice surprised even her. He hesitated, and she latched on to her newfound authority.

It was almost as if he did what she asked against his will. But with his help, they entered the mouth of the caves where a gathering of men stood arguing the merits of warfare and how long they could withstand an attack.

“An attack from whom?” she whispered to Halim.

He hushed her and urged them forward.

“The caves are safe,” a young man spoke over the rumbling of the others. “To venture out is pointless. Let them haggle and snap at one another.”

“So sayeth you,” a tall gangly man said. “You are a first. Whichever way the wind blows, you are safe. One thing I’ve learned, never trust a first.”

Kera knew the young first. He had married a human and was one of a handful of firsts who strengthened the spell keeping the caves safe. She couldn’t believe her ears as the group’s anxiety rose, sweeping over them like a fetid wave.

“I have been faithful to everyone here,” he said in his defense.

Fear and accusations flew between the men, and no one gave the three of them a second look. She and Halim shouldered Reece’s weight as best they could and rounded a bend. The strong smell of alchemy, the discipline of magic and science her people practiced, hit her and she slowed. The odor was sharp and unpleasant, and she was surprised to find it here of all places.

The smell rolled along a thin corridor to her left. “What goes on down that way?”

Halim’s face grew pale and uncompromising. He struggled not to say anything, but the years they had shared scrounging for food were strong enough to override whatever uncertainty he had adopted. “The few remaining firsts are helping us prepare for the worst. We don’t plan on going down without a fight. But then, what do you care?”

The sting in his voice drew her up short. “I care, Halim.”

He shrugged and stepped aside. He refused to meet her gaze, staring at the ground. “It’s not far now. I have things to do. Important things.”

So gruff. So unwelcoming. This was not what she had expected. “Thank you for your help.”

He nodded and retreated back the way they had come.

The cave echoed with emptiness. The battle to see Navar deposed took so many lives. As Kera made her way to Signe’s small niche, she could sense the deep mourning of those who remained.

At an arched doorway painted a cheerful lilac, Kera swept back the heavy partition and ducked in, literally dragging Reece with her. Signe jumped up from her sewing, her only means of survival in a place no person would willingly live. Her lion’s mane of red hair framed her surprised face. “Kera. Where have you been?”

Not waiting for permission, Kera unloaded Reece onto Signe’s bed and stepped back, rolling the tension out of her shoulders.

Signe’s gaze went from Kera to the man now sprawled on her bed, and she pulled her friend closer to the partition separating her quarters from the rest of the cave’s inhabitants. “Who is that?”

“Reece. A friend of Lani’s from the human realm. He’s been attacked by millispits. I did what I could, but he needs more.”

Signe reared back, and though she fought it, she ended up peeking over at Reece. “Why bring him to me?”

“You’ve dealt with his type of injury. Besides, he is the reason Lani was out there that night. He meant something to her. I figured—”

“She was meeting him?” Anger edged her words and hardened her delicate face.

“He didn’t actually say, but look at him.”

Though at present he wasn’t at his best, Kera could see why Lani had risked so much to see him. He was pleasant-natured and handsome enough and strong to a stubborn degree. He shouldn’t be alive, yet here he was. It wasn’t so far-fetched to believe he might have offered a way out of Teag for Lani. A better life, one free of fear.

“There is nothing for him here.” Signe crossed her arms over her chest and said loud enough for Reece to hear, “I cannot help him.”

Reece struggled to sit, a pathetic show at best. “I’m not so bad off. You can take me home.”

Kera frowned and pointed at him. “Stay put.”

She pulled Signe back into the passageway. The strangeness of her clothes and the squeak of her rubber-soled running shoes drew strange looks from the people hovering near Signe’s small niche. They’d seen Kera moving through the narrow passages with a stranger who could barely walk, and though bitterness tinged the haggard planes of their faces, their curiosity pulled them closer.

Kera ignored them all, her focus on Signe and the shock of her words. “What do you mean you cannot help him? Do you know what I went through to get him this far?”

“Who did you bring?” a man asked.

The distrust in his voice confirmed what Halim had told her. She had only known love and adoration from these people, but by the way they glared at her, they were far from adoring.

A woman clutched Kera’s arm, drawing her attention. The sunken eyes hiding in her face reflected the fear and uncertainty that had permeated their lives since Navar’s death. “You promised to save us, but it’s worse than before. Now what do we do?”

Kera glanced from one misery-filled face to the next. “I—”

“Go about your business.” Signe swept her arm out and pushed the woman away. “All of you, go. This has nothing to do with you.”

“What is going on here?”

Signe pulled Kera through the crowd, an unyielding edge sharpened her jawline. “I won’t help him because he is the reason for Lani’s death. How could you save him?”

Kera followed, confused by the change in her friend. “Place the blame where it rightfully goes. Navar was the reason for Lani’s death.”

“Navar was the hand that dealt the blow, but she wouldn’t have been out there if it were not for…” she nodded back toward the cubby she called home, “…him.”

“His name is Ree—”

“I have no need to know his name.” Her lips twisted with hate.

Kera refused to believe Navar’s actions had changed Signe’s sweet, gentle nature. Her friend was mourning and she had chosen Reece to pour her misery onto.

“Don’t do this,” Kera said, but Signe refused to acknowledge her. Kera wouldn’t let her friend off so easily. She spun in front of her, stopping their impromptu stroll. “You know he’s not to blame.”

“It is pointless to help him. He is cursed.”

“How do you know that?”

Signe pushed away, refusing to make eye contact, and Kera groaned. “You cursed him?” How had Signe found the means to buy a curse?

“I cursed everyone who had anything to do with Lani’s death.”

“Then you cursed me.” The rash action of her friend was completely out of character.

“No.” Signe’s red hair bounced against her freckled cheeks as she shook her head.

“Yes,” Kera insisted. “I was there and did nothing.”

Signe shook her head harder. “You could never have stood up against Navar. Not then.”

“And neither could the man lying helplessly in your bed foresee the future, yet you are willing to punish him.”

Signe frowned and bit her bottom lip.

“Reverse the curse. If not for him, then for me,” Kera begged, gripping Signe’s work-roughened hands.

Signe glanced down the passageway, her heart clearly at war with her head. After a moment, her grip tightened. “There isn’t a curse. Only the one I say every night before I sleep. And like me, it has no real power.”

Signe stepped free and wound her way through the underground marketplace. As Kera followed, the cold of the caves struck her. The deep recesses of the caves had always been lit by families; now there were more dark nooks than lit ones. She rubbed down the chill on her arms and wondered if living in such a stark, cold place had infected Signe’s heart. If so, why had she never seen it before? She refused to believe her friend had changed so much in such a short time. “Signe, stop. Stop!”

They came to a sudden halt in front of a stall that sold a variety of tinctures and rubs. “Has your kindness all but evaporated?”

“You ask much of me,” Signe said.

“He doesn’t deserve to die. Nor to suffer. Not like this.” The perpetual frown that marred Signe’s forehead deepened. Kera leaned forward, placing a hand on her friend’s arm. “Are you safe? I heard talk of a war, but there is none that I could see.”

“Rumors, mostly. When Navar was killed, so was the protective spell that kept the Lost King’s disappearance a secret from the nations surrounding Teag. We suddenly became ripe for invasion.”

The council had ruled for years, and even though Kera’s father had been one of them, he never approved of the cloaking spell, believing a strong defense lay in seeking another ruler and forming lasting treaties. Her father had actually been pleased when Navar stepped forward. He had trusted the warlord. How wrong he had been. Yet her father was a good man.

“Does my father still bring you what you need?”

Signe’s nod was slight, and the crease between her eyebrows eased a bit. “If not for him, I fear what would have happened to us. But he is not you.”

“My father can do more for you than I can, and we both know it. I’ll be back once Reece is fully recovered and take him home.”

“What do you mean?” Her friend’s body grew rigid. “You’re leaving?”

Kera pulled away. “I have to.”

“Stay.” The desperate plea in Signe’s voice wasn’t hard to miss.

“I can’t. What Lani did, it’s causing the barrier to disintegrate in far too many places. Real monsters have entered the human realm. I have to do something before they cause any more damage. And God knows what else has crossed—”

“Look around you,” Signe cut in and motioned to the people who wandered aimlessly. “Do you not see what is happening here? Nothing has really changed.”

The people were scared. They’d lost Lani and countless others whom they had depended on. If Kera left again, they would continue to endure hardships. But what was she to do? No one trusted her. That was apparent by the welcome she’d been given. “I understand their grief, and I share it, but—”

“Do you? You look well fed and rested for someone who has lost a dear friend.”

Kera choked on the stillness in her lungs until the air burned and its ragged escape filled her ears. “That is unfair,” she whispered. “Unkind even. It’s not like you to be so harsh.”

“It’s unlike you to abandon us,” Signe shot back. “You spouted all sorts of promises before you left. Where are they now when you have real power? Dust on your shoes, is where. How can I tell them the one they saw as their savior is leaving? Again.”

“I never asked to be their savior.”

“I know. It was thrust upon you. Much in life is that way.” She grabbed Kera’s hands. “I stay not because I have no choice. I stay because I refuse to leave even one behind to suffer. I thought you felt the same.”

Kera pulled her hands free, feeling trapped by Signe’s words. “Yet you are willing to let the human realm suffer. They are defenseless against magic.”

“So are we.”

“Not completely.” Why was Signe being so stubborn? “Magic is from our world. We know what threats exist. The humans don’t. I’m asking you to let me do what is right. I caused so much of this.”

“It will never end,” Signe said. “One day you will have to choose where your allegiance lies.”

“With you,” Kera said. “Never doubt that, but I’m begging you, treat Reece as you would any other innocent man whose only crime was one of ignorance.” She took a deep breath and said, “I think he loved her.”

The bristle of Signe’s anger faded and she buried her face in her hands, covering her misery. “I always feared Lani’s impetuousness, yet I loved her for it, too. I miss her so much.”

Lani was gone, and now Signe believed Kera was abandoning them. She wasn’t. Her responsibility was to two worlds, each vulnerable. Why couldn’t Signe see that? Kera gently touched her friend’s arm. “I have not forgotten you, nor will I ever.”

Her friend turned away. There was nothing more Kera could say. Dragging Reece back to the human realm was out of the question. If Signe refused to care for him, Kera would have to find someone else—her father maybe? When Signe turned back around, Kera eyed the tin in her friend’s hand.

“To ease his pain and draw out the remaining poison,” Signe said.

“Then you will help him?”

Signe nodded. “I doubt either of us could get him off my bed.”

Kera hugged her tightly and whispered a heartfelt “Thank you.”

Her friend pulled away and tucked the tin in her pocket, not yet ready to accept Kera’s gratitude. “You will fight your new battles and love your new love and you will forget us…and I shall be stuck with your human castoff forever.”

“I’m sure once he finds out Lani is gone, he won’t want to stay.”

Signe escorted Kera to the caves’ entrance, her silence the sound of disapproval.

Though the sun’s rays inched through the clouds, Kera couldn’t feel their warmth. She was now a stranger to her own kind. “I can’t pass through the spell any longer. Halim had to bring me through. You should keep a closer eye on him.”

They both knew that was useless. The boy did as he pleased.

Signe played with the necklace that held her birthstone at her throat. “If not for his wandering about, how will we know when you return?”

Kera touched the necklace in Signe’s fingers. “There is a spell using birthstones…”

She had no idea if it could cut through the barrier magic, but it was worth a try. Paper materialized in Kera’s hand. The spell had to be put to paper and then burned before it would work. She stared at it until words appeared, then took off her sapphire ring and held it out. “I give this to you willingly so that you will never forget me, and wherever you are, I will find you.”

Signe made to take it, but Kera shook her head. Understanding dawned, and Signe pulled off her necklace and held it out. “I give this to you willingly so that you will never forget me, and wherever you are, I will find you.”

Together, they placed the items within each other’s palms. With their hands clasped together, Kera closed her eyes, and the spell wove over the items, binding them to each other. When she was done, the paper with the spell on it burned in a flash, the ash taken up by the wind. Kera took the necklace and slipped it on, fingering the ruby set in the center, and Signe pushed Kera’s ring onto her finger.

Kera quickly told her how the spell worked, and when she had nothing more to say, they stood staring at each other. Kera gave her friend a sad smile. “It’s the best I can do.”

“Will it work?”

“Let’s hope. Most of the spells I was allowed to use before were more practical in nature. But you know me. I always tried what I was told I could not do. And failed miserably. Now that I have my own powers, it should work.” She touched the necklace around her neck. “I’ll wear this always. Never take off the ring.”

Signe fingered the ring, pulled her hand to her chest in a protective manner, and nodded.

Halim suddenly burst into the clearing, his eyes bright with fear. Staggering to a stop, he bent, trying to catch his breath as he put his hands on his knees. He managed to point behind him. “They’re doing—” He shook his head and swallowed. “It’s unspeakable.” His gaze rose and found Kera. “We have to save them.”

Kera’s stomach dropped. Now was not a good time. She had commitments…but the fear in Halim’s eyes…it spoke of the horror he’d seen.

Those who were close rushed to the boy and peppered him with questions. Behind him, smoke rose slowly into the sky like a line of fresh ink, black and heavy. It curled and bent unnaturally. What type of fire produced smoke like that?

She had asked the question to the wind, and a voice within her head answered back.

Crouch and place your hand flat on the ground.

She blinked and searched for the one who could speak to her mind as if whispering in her ear. Everyone appeared busy.

We are linked through your power. Now heed my words if you wish to know what evil has risen.

Kera was afraid to ask more. She bent and placed her hand flat on the ground. Rumblings of hate echoed through the dirt. A sudden clash of blades sounded. A stab of dark magic surprised her and she yanked away, flexing fingers suddenly gone numb.

A chuckle echoed in her head. True wickedness has been unleashed the likes none have seen in a long, long while.

She peered back at the rise and fall of unnatural smoke. She couldn’t shake the impression of evil she had felt and its quest to inflict harm.

Signe squatted and twirled the ring Kera had given her. “What?”

“Find me three people capable with the sword.”

A light of hope entered Signe’s eyes. Kera grabbed her friend’s hand before she stood. “I give you no promises. There may be nothing I can do, understand?”

Signe nodded and Kera let go.

All she wanted was to go home to Dylan, but another part of her demanded that she stay. It felt as if her soul were being ripped apart. She closed her eyes, knowing she couldn’t leave. Not yet.

Spinning on her heels, she dashed into the caves and straight to Signe’s quarters and Lani’s clothes chest. She yanked out the garments she needed and stepped behind a screen. When she reemerged, she wore dark-brown leather pants and a dark, long-sleeved linen shirt. Over the shirt, a thick leather vest fit snugly to her torso.

Seeing Reece standing at the entrance to the bedroom, Kera came up short. “You should be in bed.”

“I heard you come in. Where are you going?” he asked.

She didn’t answer, but neatly slid her incordium dagger into its sheath at her waist.

His eyes glittered when he saw the blade. “I know trouble when I see it.”

She’d seen that look before. With deft fingers, she quickly braided her hair, eyeing him as she did. It was too dangerous for him. She couldn’t bear to think he might be harmed because of her.

“You aren’t ready for what’s going on. Stay out of it.” Stepping away, she grabbed the short sword Lani had used, strapped it to her hip, and rushed out.

At the caves’ entrance, she found Scoran, the first Kera had seen defending his rights when she’d entered the caves, and Morgan and Elix, two half bloods. Scoran and Morgan offered gentlemanly hellos, but Elix only nodded her head.

Each was dressed in a manner that would have them blend into their surroundings. Halim held a clay pot filled with a dark greasy mess, which they streaked across their faces. She dipped her fingers in and smeared four fat lines across her face.

Signe took the pot and nodded toward the boy. “Halim will show you the way.”

Kera trusted him even if he was now unsure of her. She suspected half the reason he was willing to go back was to make sure she wouldn’t do anything to endanger anyone else. He was a hero in the making, that little man.

Kera nodded to Halim. “Let’s go, then.”

He took off. For a mutt pedigree, the boy was fast. They were far ahead of the others when the two of them approached the village. Kera had feared they would need to climb the walls, but the strange smoke curled in a wheat field. They entered the stalks, and as they moved forward, the stalks turned a crisp, unhealthy brown. The wheat drooped as if suffering from drought, and the cast-off seeds crackled drily underfoot. Kera and Halim pushed their way through the stalks as quietly as possible. The air thickened in a way that made Kera’s skin crawl. It seemed as if the sun couldn’t push through the odd haze that stretched over the area. The smell of hate and fear had her shuddering long before the wheat grew thinner and the moans of suffering reached them.

It was horrible, hearing that low painful sound. It shook the wheat stalks like ghosts on the hunt. Halim sunk into the dirt; a quiver rattled his limbs. Kera motioned him forward, but he refused to go any farther.

The others suddenly appeared and scooted up next to them, their breaths short from keeping pace, eyes wide.

Kera stroked Halim’s neck, a sweeping motion that ended at his mid-back. She bent her head to his ear. His hair smelled of earth and rain and smoke. “Go home.”

He shook his head and lifted it. A tear hovered on his lashes. He was a sensitive soul, and Kera feared that before Teag righted itself, he would be damaged for good. “Go,” she repeated.

Without looking at Halim, she drew her sword and motioned the others to follow. They slowly crept forward, weapons at the ready, eyes searching.

It didn’t take long for the clearing to come into view. Kera’s legs suddenly refused to move, as if they were stuck in mud so thick it would swallow her. And at that moment, she wanted nothing more than to disappear. The clearing within the field was empty except for a dozen or so people—men, women, and children—their clothes in tatters. They were all gagged and tied down with their limbs stretched out on a slab of ironstone. Thick smoke, as dark and solid as ink, swirled upward, then down, curling around the people and marking their skin reddish-black. The sound the streaks made as they passed was like a rasp against wood, and it made Kera’s skin feel uncomfortably tight.

She couldn’t understand what she was seeing. Leaning forward for a better view, she followed the path of one of the odd smoke strands. As it passed over a man, his body jerked, and a low, agonizing moan escaped him. A raw, oozing, reddish-black stripe appeared on his chest.

Understanding dawned. Kera reared back and clamped a hand to her mouth, suppressing the scream that rose. Whatever the darkness was, it was searing off one layer of skin at a time. These people were slowly being skinned…alive.

Kera grabbed Scoran’s arm and turned her face away from the gruesome scene. Through stiff lips she whispered, “What is that?”

Under her hand, his body shook. His pupils dilated with disbelief. “I have never seen anything like it.”

Kera forced herself to face the dark streaks swirling wickedly in the air. Beside her, Morgan swore and one of the streaks shot closer. At the apex of the streak, for a brief moment, the face of a man could be seen. It flickered so quickly, Kera wasn’t sure she believed what she saw. It darted away and joined another streak. The two slithered to the ground and the wavering inky forms of two men appeared. They attacked a woman and pulled out her gag.

Kera couldn’t hear what the strange beings said, but the woman wept for mercy, “I do not know. I swear, none of us know. Please…”

She was gagged again before the dark forms dissolved into the whiplash streaks. This time as they passed over her, they gouged deeper.

“Devils,” came the low accusation from Morgan. His body tensed with barely suppressed anger.

Elix grabbed her friend’s arm and warned him to be still, but Morgan twisted away and dove into the clearing with a ragged cry on his lips.

The dark forms instantly converged on him, slashing and ripping. Morgan swung his blade; whatever these beings were, the sword barely slowed them down and had no lasting effect.

“Do something,” Elix said in a horror-filled voice. Her hands fisted on the ground as she leaned forward, fighting the urge to rush out and help her friend. She glared at Scoran and Kera, her teeth clinched tight. “You have power. Use it!”

Scoran sputtered and confessed his limits, but Kera felt her power hum under her skin, begging her to let it loose. It was big and dangerous, and if ever there was a time to use it, now was that time.

As the two argued beside her, she tapped into the power of the earth, pulling it into her body until she glowed like a beacon. She turned her sun-bright gaze on the pair. “Go free everyone. I’ll take care of the rest.”

She stood, dropped her worthless blade, and pulled out her incordium dagger. At her appearance, the dark streaks slowed their assault. She didn’t stop to think, but rushed forward. When she was almost upon them, she dropped to the ground and slid on her knees beneath the nearest dark streak, slicing it in two. Unlike Morgan’s blade, her incordium dagger severed the magic and the streak fell to the earth like ink to paper—a worthless blob that sizzled and stained the ground.

She crouched, straddling Morgan’s downed body. Whatever these things were, they were pure evil, and she refused to allow them to touch him again. From what she could tell, he was worse off than those on the ironstone slab.

The streaks rose swiftly into the air, snaking together, and then burst apart, rushing toward Kera and Morgan like oil through water. Before they reached them, Morgan’s raw voice echoed his pain. “Don’t let them touch you.”

He needn’t have warned her. Although she slashed and stabbed a hundred times, spilling the darkness to stain the ground, the streaks were too many. One sped close and licked across her wrist that held the dagger. In that moment, she saw a glimpse of a face, like a shadow.

Shock and pain had her clutching her arm. A deep, searing burn appeared across her skin, and she nearly dropped the dagger. The dark streaks moved faster, darting here and there. She wasn’t yet used to the strain of wielding magic. Her mind swirled dizzyingly as she tried to stay focused. One fact became obviously clear. She’d stepped into a fight she couldn’t win. Not like this.

She desperately sought a solution, crouching lower as she lashed out. She couldn’t hold on much longer. Suddenly her pulse pounded within her ears, silencing all other sounds. A vision of the wind entered her mind. Then the whisper-soft voice, the one she had heard at the caves, spoke to her again. Reach for more power. Dig deeper and call on the storm winds. Do not be afraid.

Kera did what the voice said. She reached deep, deeper than she’d ever allowed herself to delve. Power infused her, driving her body straight. The light emanating from her grew until it radiated out and pushed at the darkness. When her whole body thrummed with magic, she called on the kind of wind that tore through the sky, bent ancient oaks, and whipped sea waves to monstrous heights.

Like a dog herding sheep, the wind forced the black streaks higher and tighter until they were an inky, compacted, rotating mass.

Kera’s muscles spasmed. Controlling the wind ate at her strength, but no matter how much pain she was in, she refused to stop. Breathing hard, she compressed the inky darkness more, and when she was done, she cupped her hands and pushed up and away. The dark ball shot high into the air, higher than the clouds, until she couldn’t see it anymore.

The haze that had overshadowed the area lifted, and Kera sagged to her knees, gasping for breath. The sting on her wrist burned.

Elix rushed over and checked her friend for a pulse. After a long moment, she pulled back, her face long and weary and her voice hollow. “He’s dead.”

Morgan couldn’t die. Not after what Kera had gone through to save him. “I can heal him,” she insisted. She pushed Elix away and laid her hands on Morgan’s chest. Her touch grew warm as she passed her hands over his injuries. She labored over him until Elix angrily pushed her away. “Stop it! He’s gone.”

Kera stared at her hands. “But I can heal.” What had gone wrong? The gift was too new, and Kera didn’t understand why she could heal some things and not others.

“If you can heal, come help these,” Scoran said from his post by the victims.

Kera stood, shaking from her efforts with her eyes still locked on Morgan. She felt too hot, too slow. Her limbs shook as if ice water flowed in her veins.

Elix’s fingers slid Morgan’s eyelids down over his fixed gaze. Closing her eyes, she bent her head. After a moment, she stood and walked away.

Scoran took Kera by the arm. “You have done all you can. It would take more power than you have to bring back the dead, though it is never wise. Zombies are created that way, as are black-hearted men who think of no one but themselves.”

He brought her to a row of people, cut loose from the poison of the ironstone, and laid out like bodies waiting for their shrouds. Some were able to sit up for her, others laid still, their wounds deep and raw. With Scoran’s help, one after another, Kera tended their wounds.

Kneeling by a child, Kera knitted new skin. As she did, the black, raw strip along her wrist burned hotter. Deeper. She sucked in her breath and a slight moan escaped. She had been able to ignore it at first, but no longer. When she was through with the little girl, Kera tried to heal her wrist, but she couldn’t.

Strong fingers edged in blood gripped Kera’s arm. Elix knelt beside her and pulled out a bandage. “Did no one tell you? Healers can only heal others. Not themselves.” Elix wrapped the strip of cloth around Kera’s wrist and secured the end of the bandage. When she was done, she rubbed at the blood on her fingers. “His blood won’t rub off.”

Kera made to help her, but Elix jerked her hands away and looked Kera in the eye. “Don’t.” She scrambled to her feet.

“Scoran and I will take care of the dead.” She spun around and left, her sword slapping the side of the leather trousers as she jerked on a pair of dark-brown gloves. They hid her bloodstained fingers, but not the pain of her loss.

Kera turned her attention to the little girl’s mother, the last of the wounded, but her thoughts stayed on Elix. She was like so many of the tainted. Her spirit had been bruised too many times by the firsts, becoming wary of anyone who held even the smallest measure of power.

Smoke soon filled the air, spinning a cloud of gray against the sun even though Elix and Scoran had taken the dead to the opposite side of the clearing. Using his magic, Scoran quickened the process, and all too soon, the wind pushed the ash along the ground until it covered the area in gray. Kera tried not to think of the life that now fed the earth. If she hadn’t left, could she have prevented all this? Yet if she hadn’t left, Blaze would never have entered the human realm and wouldn’t have been with her in the forest when the millispits found Reece. He and countless others could have died.

Here. There. It didn’t matter. Someone would suffer. Guilt pressed down on Kera, making her head ache and her hands shake.

Nausea twisted her stomach as she knitted the last inch of skin over the last wound. Finished, she stood, her feet unsteady beneath her. She had saved eight and lost three, one a little girl no older than five. Huddled together like refugees, the people she had helped stared up at her, waiting. She had no answers for them, but surely they could help her understand. “I don’t wish to upset you, but I need to know. Why did they attack you? What did they want?”

The woman Kera had seen the dark souls question blinked up at her. “They wanted you.”

Her? That didn’t make sense, but then life in Teag had ceased to make sense years ago. Without warning, her vision darkened and her knees buckled.

Scoran and Elix were beside her in an instant, catching her before she fell.

Lying on the ground, she blinked away the darkness and slowly pushed herself to her elbows. “I’m fine. Just a dizzy spell.”

A dozen hands shot out to press her back down. “You’ve done too much. You need to rest,” a villager said.

So many worried eyes stared down at her. She caught sight of Halim’s owlish gaze poking at her from afar. So young, yet so tough. He was Teag’s future. She couldn’t allow exhaustion and fear to steal that future from him. She’d fought her enemy and won the battle, but they would be back. She had to be ready. Not just her, all of them.

“I haven’t done enough.” Without thinking, Kera pulled more power into her.

She was suddenly reminded of something her father had said. He had known the Lost King by his first name, Baun. They had been friends, and even when Baun had been crowned, they stayed friends. When Baun first ruled, he would go for weeks without sleep because he was able to draw power from the earth at will, something most firsts couldn’t do. His drive to become the perfect king drove his need for power. Her father believed that constant need eventually caused an imbalance in Baun, and that imbalance affected his mind.

Had his insanity begun as simple as that? Wanting to help his people? Tearing through the energy until his body insisted he shut down? Had his extreme exhaustion caused his hate-filled delusions? From her position, her father’s theory was all too easy to believe.

And what did it mean that she could access the same power so easily?

Kera accepted the water Elix offered and shivered. Scoran placed his coat around Kera’s shoulders and sat next to her. After a few moments, the sallow cast to her skin pinkened and a collective sigh of relief passed through everyone. Yet all eyes stayed glued to her.

“What’s wrong? Why are you all staring?” Kera croaked out.

Scoran’s sharp gaze softened. “You’re a healer. The last healer died more than fifty years ago. Not just that, you sent the black souls away, something no other first could do, even if we combined our power.”

They all nodded. A girl with long, tangled brown hair hugged her knees. “They came in a rush of wind and darkness. Pulled us from our homes. No warning. No time to think.” She bit her lip and turned away, blinking back tears.

“You firsts did the same to my father and brother. They were in the field when they were taken. Beheaded and nailed to a post.”

The girl stared in horror at Elix. “Are we being justifiably punished, then? I deserved to be tortured? They deserved to die? Is that what you’re saying?”

Elix looked away and Scoran spoke up. “No. Never.”

“What were those things?” Kera had to know if what she saw was real.

A woman clutched her young son to her side. “I thought they were a myth. I should have known better. They are called the black souls.”

Kera thought back to all the stories she’d been told, and none had ever touched on anything like what she had seen.

“When I was younger,” Scoran said, his voice low and fearful, “an old man whispered a tale about the birth of the dark souls. They were—are—the creation of hate, and once made, nearly impossible to destroy. I never thought the tale was true. But to see them with my own eyes… I’ve not heard of anyone using dark magic for hundreds of years. I thought the art was lost.”

“Someone found it,” a man said.

“Someone always does,” another said.

“But who would do it?”

Elix hovered at the edge of the group, her face sour with hate. Bending, she scooped up a little girl who had lost her parents. “One of your kind, a first,” she said without any hesitance, “and not one I’d like to know. Talking about the dark souls, hearing the fear in our voices only makes them stronger and us weaker. I, for one, say we head back.”

As Elix carried the little girl away, the others straggled along behind her. Scoran leaned close. “Elix is right. Only a first would brave that kind of magic, though I personally know of no first with the kind of power it would take to conjure one dark soul, let alone so many.”

Kera stood, her feet steady, her vision clear. She brushed the dirt from her clothes as her mind spun with possibilities. “We have to find out who did this and why.”

“We will.” Scoran stood and squeezed her shoulder. “I know you wanted to leave, but if you had, everyone would have died. Thank you.”

Kera didn’t feel triumphant. She felt torn in two. If not for the voice…

She refused to analyze where it came from or how it had appeared in her head. She was just grateful for the help. “I cannot stay. You know that.”

His hand slipped from her shoulder, leaving the memory of warmth behind. “I know.” His brows stabbed together briefly. “We are not helpless, no matter what Signe would have you think.”

A gentle rise curved his lips, not exactly a smile, but a show of support she desperately needed. He eyed the sky. “It will rain soon. I should follow the others back to the village. I’ll tell your father what happened. He’ll know what to do.” Without waiting for her, he followed the others through the break in the wheat.

She marveled at his faith in her father. Once she had done the same, but her father had let Navar run wild without questioning his motives, and Teag had suffered for it. Still suffered. Yet, if anyone could unearth how to rid them of the dark souls, it was her scholarly father.

When Kera entered the path, she saw Halim. He shifted his weight from foot to foot and fell into step beside her when she drew near. He cleared his throat twice and peeked up at her several times before he spoke. “I’ve never seen anything like that. You were amazing. When we get to the village, everyone will be abuzz with what you did.”

She took hold of his arm and held him back, dreading what she must do. “Halim, I’m leaving.”

He blinked, as if he couldn’t process what she was saying. “Leaving? Why?”

“I have other responsibilities. Signe knows how to get in touch with me if you really need me.” Though it was uncomfortable to see him struggle to understand, Kera had to stay focused. Her main concern was the barrier and how to fix it.

“Can I come with you?”

“They need you here, you know that. I’ll be back. Soon. I promise.”

Though he hid his disappointment well, he wasn’t fooling her. She’d have to be very careful he didn’t follow her. So far, Dylan had been understanding about her bringing strays home…at least the nonflammable ones he knew about. She already had a dragon on the loose in the human realm. The last thing they needed was a boy too independent to know when trouble stepped in his way. And right now, Kera knew she was trouble.

She just didn’t know how much had attached itself to her and how long it would last.

Deep Breath

I don’t know how long I was out, but a slap to my face drags me from the darkness like a bat from its cave. I jerk awake, fighting my way through the suffocating blackness and nightmarish dreams about fire. I feel dry. Not merely dry, but mummified. My skin is flaky, my eyes scratchy, my tongue withered. I’m like a sand sculpture, one the barest breeze will etch away.

I’m lying on my bed with only my boxers on and a cool cloth on my forehead. I have no idea how I got here. I drag the cloth off my head and let it fall to the floor. A shadow hovers above me. Leo gently slaps my cheek again, drawing my attention to him. When I finally make eye contact, he sighs. “Bro, you are officially a juvenile delinquent.”

I grunt, mostly because I can’t say anything through the desert that’s become my throat.

Wyatt rushes into my bedroom. The muscles in his jaw flex, his face flushes.

“You got the matches?” Leo asks.

“Lighter.” Wyatt clicks on the flame and grabs a pair of jeans I’d tossed in the corner the night before. Without asking, he touches the flame to the fabric. “Me burning his clothes… A little ironic don’t you think?”

I tap Leo’s leg. “W-w-” I can’t speak. I hold my throat and point to the bathroom.

As my jeans smoke and burn, Leo quickly brings me a glass of water. Grandma insists a man shouldn’t have to stumble around in the dark for a drink and made sure I had a clean glass every night. She’s sweet like that. I bet she never thought she’d be catering to a guy like me. She deserves better.

I down the water and hand the glass back, all the while watching Wyatt burn holes in my jeans. “Shirt,” he says snapping his fingers for one.

Leo picks up a vintage concert T-shirt I unearthed in a secondhand shop, and I quickly point to an old crew neck that has a hole under the arm. “Why are you—”

Wyatt tosses the burned jeans at me, cutting off my question, and starts in on the T-shirt. “You are one piece of work. A regular demolition man. People heard and saw that blast for miles and now those damned looky-loos are camped out on your grandpa’s front lawn. We’re lucky nobody got hurt.”

“Well, a few chickens died…,” Leo says, then nudges my hand holding the jeans. “Put them on.”

I slip into them and push to my feet, feeling a bit better but still woozy. “Sorry. I’m not exactly sure what happened.”

“You blew Wyatt’s barn apart and everyone’s freaking out.” Leo dropped his voice to a whisper. “This is big. You can control fire, bro.”

“If that’s him controlling his…I don’t know…gift, then we’re in serious trouble.” Wyatt pats out the lick of flame damaging my shirt. “Done.” He tosses the T-shirt in my general direction. “I still don’t get it. You burned down the barn but your clothes are singe-free. That’s weird, kid.”

Leo catches the shirt and shoves it at me. “Come off it, Wyatt. Don’t act like you’re not impressed.”

“Hell yeah I’m impressed, in more ways than one. He lights up, but not his clothes, yet he can burn through things, like the metal on my weight vest, without knowing it. He’s out of control. He’s a serious problem, and one I’m having a hard time keeping a step ahead of.”

My brain is slowly waking up, but there are still gaping holes I need to fill. “I get why Leo is here, I mean he lives here, or close by and he’s my friend, but what are you doing here?”

Leo glares at Wyatt. “Yeah. Why are you here?”

I slowly pitch to the side like a drunken sailor, one arm in my shirt and one fishing for the other opening. Wyatt pushes past Leo, grabs my arm and none too gently stuffs it into the waiting armhole. “I’m here to save your lily-white asses.”

I pop my head through the top hole and pull the shirt over my torso. “I’m pretty sure Leo’s is brown.”

They both stop, and there’s a quick anxious glance between them.

“I’m saying dumb shit, aren’t I?” I say. “Sorry. My head hurts. I need more water.”

Leo turns back to Wyatt. “And the burn unit treatment?”

“Residual damage.”

Leo nods. “Okay, I get where you’re—”

“Can you limp?” Wyatt cuts Leo off to ask me.

I have no idea what he’s talking about. “I’m fine. It’s my head that really—”

Wyatt hauls back and leg-whips my shin, dropping me to my knees.

“Get your kung-fu ass away from him,” Leo shouts and pushes Wyatt back.

Pain is a funny thing. Usually I would recommend avoiding it, but suddenly my head is a lot clearer. I pop back to my feet, gritting my teeth and babying my leg. It hurts so badly, I want to laugh/cry in that way your funny bone isn’t so funny, but is.

Wyatt points to Leo. “My ass is pure Brazilian jujitsu. Get your facts straight.” He then shoves a long finger at me. “Can you limp now?”

I glare at GI Jerk. “Yeah.”

Leo steps between us, using his height and smooth voice to instill a sense of calm. “Words are what separates us from other bipeds, bro. You could’ve asked him to limp.”

“Now he doesn’t have to fake it.” He pushes Leo beside me. “Help him.” He stares at me. “And for the love of God, try to look like you’ve just escaped with your life.”

Wyatt rushes out the door and we follow, though a lot slower thanks to him.

“Okay,” I say, my mind trying to catch up to what’s happening, “so I’m in trouble?”

“You and Wyatt are arsonists. Or terrorists have decided to wipe out Oregon. That rumor sent Mrs. Hess to the hospital with chest pains.”

I groan. This is Grandpa’s worst nightmare. He worried I’d start something, and now I have.

“I can kind of see why Wyatt’s in a huff,” Leo continues. “It’s a bigger problem for him. He can be charged as an adult if we can’t play this off as an accident.”

“It was an accident. I didn’t mean to blow up the barn.”

“There is no rational explanation for what happened, at least not in this world. Spontaneous human combustion happens, but there are a lot of extenuating circumstances around the phenomenon. Most of it involves large quantities of alcohol and a cigarette.”

When we enter the living room, I whisper to Leo, “I’ve got something to tell you.”

“What?” he whispers back.

Just then, Kera turns from her post by the window and gasps at my appearance.

I can’t tell him about my dad now. The dream is all jumbled in my head. I need time and quiet to think it through. “Later, when we’re alone.”

“Great. Another secret. I’m not a priest, you know.”

Kera rushes to my side, tucking herself under my other arm, and glares at Leo. “What happened? He was fine the last time I saw him.”

It feels like forever since I’ve seen Kera. I stroke her cheek and kiss her temple. “Where have you been?”

She narrows accusing eyes at Leo. “You said you’d watch him.”

Leo hushes her. “Wyatt thought it would be better to present a more beat-up version of Dylan. Authentic, huh?”

“I am nothing if not thorough when it comes to deception.” Wyatt stops at the front door and grins, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Listen up, kid. I know your head’s spinning, but all you need to know is that you and I aren’t popular right now. When we get out there, don’t do anything. Don’t say anything. Hell, don’t even breathe too loudly. Got it? Now let’s make this convincing.”

I sigh. “I’m taking the fall, aren’t I?”

“Hell yeah you are. It is your fault.” He inspects me, eyeing his handiwork, and leans close. “Cough.”

The last thing I need is him punching me in my gut to get the response he wants, so I immediately put my fist to my mouth and cough.

Satisfied, he pushes the front door open and we step outside. “Here he is. Singed but alive.”

Grandma and Grandpa turn around, and the front yard crowd peers up at me. Grumbles and gasps roll through them. I cough and wince, giving Wyatt all the support I can.

Ed Tanner, a neighbor with a complaint or a doomsday theory to share every other week, steps forward and points at me. “And there’s the proof. Ever since that boy showed up, we’ve had nothing but problems. Pop is dead. Jason Delgato is missing and now this.”

Wyatt takes a threatening step forward. “Dylan was in the barn with me working out.”

“Working on mischief is more like it.”

A rumble tumbles through the crowd.

Grandpa shakes his head and moves down a step, holding out his hand for silence. “How many times do we have to say it, Ed? The boys smelled gas and got out of there. Dylan was the last to leave before it blew. We’re lucky he’s alive.”

“I’m telling you, Tanner Utilities checked that line last week. I did it myself, and it was tighter than a rusted bolt on a tractor.”

“Liar.” The word is hidden in a cough that bursts from the crowd. Tanner turns and points a shaking finger at the group. “Who said that?”

“This about saving your sorry reputation, ain’t it?” a man growls, stepping forward.

“That’s Mr. Cavanaugh, Wyatt’s dad,” Leo whispers out of the side of his mouth.

I would have guessed. They have the same coloring and square jaw. That jaw slides out at a stubborn angle. “Accusing someone of arson is serious. That boy is no more an arsonist than Wyatt.”

Tanner blusters for a second. “I caught your boy that time with your lighter and—”

“I was eight,” Wyatt says, the insult deepening the color in his cheeks.

“Think about what you’re saying.” Mr. Cavanaugh takes a step toward Mr. Tanner. “You telling me my boy came home on military leave solely to light up my barn with some punk kid too dumb to know when to run? That’s plain stupid even for you to believe.”

Mr. Tanner doesn’t bother listening. He turns to Grandpa and grumbles loudly, “Newman, it looks like you’re having trouble doing your job. Let me tell you what I think. Jason Delgato and your grandson get their jollies out of starting a fire. It gets out of hand. That old sheepherder comes on them and the boys beat him up good, but not before Pop gets in a good shot to your boy, there. They both go down. Jason skedaddles, leaving them to die. Pop does, Dylan recovers, but he hasn’t learned his lesson. What stupid-ass kid does? Back to his old firebug ways, someone recruits him to facilitate an accident and he helps them blow up the barn. Now everyone is looking at me like I’m the bad guy. How’s that for a theory? Looks plausible from where I’m standing.”

Grandpa has nerves of steel and stares down Mr. Tanner. “Speculate all you want, Ed. I deal with facts.”

“Then do your job,” the little man hisses. “I want a real investigation. I suspect Wyatt and that boy of burning down John’s barn so John can collect on the insurance. Times are tough, and I seen it happen a million times.”

The crowd moves restlessly, and many shake their heads while a few seem to take what Tanner says seriously.

“No, sir.” John Cavanaugh rips off his baseball cap and slams it on the ground. “You did not just say that.”

Wyatt and Grandpa bound down the steps and put themselves between the two men. It’s starting to look like there’s going to be a smackdown in the woods. Both men are turning beet red. Even my heart begins to pound at the possibility. I was told to stand here and act pathetic, but this is getting out of hand.

“I smell a cover-up,” Mr. Tanner yells over Grandpa’s shoulder at Mr. Cavanaugh.

He’s right about that, and it makes me squirm with guilt.

“Ed,” Grandpa says, his tone pushing closer to aggravation as he holds the older man back. “I was there.”

“You have connections to both parties, which will pollute the investigation. One more reason why we need to bring in someone else. A specialty unit. Like a bomb squad or an arson team or the FBI.”

The crowd focuses in on the men, and Kera moves restlessly at my side. “They’re very angry. Should we do something?”

“Nah,” Leo says with a smile. “Mr. Tanner goes off like this all the time. It’s better than going to the movies.” Leo nudges me. “I bet you ten bucks Wyatt’s dad messes that little man up.”

Big and brawny over small and wiry. It’s a risky bet. “All I’ve got is a five.” We bump fists, and I say, “Betcha Mr. Tanner’s faster than Wyatt’s old man.”

“Doesn’t matter, bro. One good hit and the little guy’s out.”

Leo convinces Kera to help me to the porch railing, while behind us Grandma sighs. “Honestly, grown men behaving like children. It’s enough to make me fetch my frying pan and bust some sense into their heads.”

She sounds disgusted, but like the rest of us, she’s drawn to the drama.

Tanner throws a punch and it misses. Leo and I holler along with the crowd. Kera stiffens at my side.

Grandpa’s hand flexes against the other man’s chest and he gives him a stern glare. “I won’t warn you again. Stop now before it’s too late.”

Insults fly and Mr. Cavanaugh pushes against Wyatt while Grandpa stands toe-to-toe with Mr. Tanner, one hand firmly on the man’s puffed-out chest. Grandpa twists and points his other hand at Wyatt’s dad, telling him to calm down. There’s so much yelling and posturing, I’m certain there’s going to be a big blowup.

Grandpa addresses the crowd and orders them to leave, threatening to arrest anyone who’s even thinking of getting involved. That’s enough to settle most of them down, and those who don’t are dragged away by friends.

“Getting rid of witnesses, George? Should I be concerned?”

“Shut up, Ed. I’m doing you a favor. You’re making a fool of yourself.”

Mr. Tanner struggles against Grandpa, shouting obscenities and challenging them all to keep him quiet. Wyatt struggles to calm his dad down, but it’s not working.

Kera shakes her head and heads down the steps.

“Stop her, Dylan,” Grandma commands, like I have any control over what Kera does.

Leaning over the rail, I reach for her, but she’s too quick. “Kera? What are you doing?”

“What’s she doing?” Leo repeats my question.

“Getting into trouble…as usual.” What does she think she can do that everyone else can’t?

She approaches Wyatt’s dad, touches him, and tells him to calm down. In mid-tirade, his outrage deflates like a day-old party balloon. When she turns to Mr. Tanner, he eyes her warily, but she doesn’t back down. She touches his arm and looks innocently up at him. “No one blames you. Accidents happen.”

At her touch, all the bluster leaves him. “Accidents happen?”

Kera nods. Grandma’s hand flutters to her throat and Grandpa’s eyes grow round.

Leo and I exchange glances. “Can you do that?” he asks.

“I don’t know.” There’s so much I don’t know about what Kera and I can and can’t do. I never considered the possibility we could control others with our magic.

“Try it on me.”

I touch his arm and calmly say, “You want to sing show tunes.”

“Show tunes?” He sloughs off my hand. “That is so wrong.”

“Figures it doesn’t work on someone like you.”

“What’s wrong with me?”

“You’re just...you, you know?”

“No, I don’t, and I don’t want to know.”

We turn back in time to hear Grandpa say, “That’s a fine idea, Ed. You should go home.” His voice is tense and raspier than I’ve ever heard it.

He steers Mr. Tanner toward his vehicle. The whole time the older man stares at Kera, confusion glazing his eyes, his mouth opening and shutting like a guppy in oxygen depleted water. “I…I don’t see how—”

“I know,” she says and pats his arm. “No one blames you.”

Grandpa settles the man behind the wheel, and before he closes the door, he leans down. “This was an accident, Ed. A sad, unavoidable accident that could have killed someone. We’re damn lucky it didn’t.”

The man looks at Kera, then nods, and Grandpa closes the door. After Mr. Tanner drives off, Grandpa and Kera join Grandma, Leo, and me on the porch. “What are we going to do?” Grandma asks.

Grandpa turns to Kera. “You used some woo-woo on him, didn’t you?”

“I only projected a sense of calmness onto both of them.”

“Will he forget about all this?”

She shrugs. “Humans are easily manipulated if they aren’t careful. It depends on him.”

“Ed’s about as mulish as they come. He’ll be back.”

Wyatt approaches. “I’m going to take my dad home.” He stares at Kera. “I don’t know what you did…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, only stares at Kera for a moment before leaving. Kera watches him go, scratching her arm until tiny red streaks appear. “He knows about us.”

I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “Yeah, I almost blew him up. That’s kind of a dead giveaway.”

Grandma, yakking about crazy people doing crazy things, takes Grandpa inside, and soon it’s just Leo, Kera, and I.

Leo turns around and leans his elbows on the railing, gazing up at the porch ceiling. “I’m shamefully disappointed there wasn’t a fight,” Leo says with a grin that enters his voice. “I could’ve used the money. I got a date.”

“I nearly swallowed my tongue when he mentioned Jason,” I admit.

“Bro, my dad says Carl Delgato plays poker every Thursday, and since Jason disappeared, he hasn’t missed a night. He’s not even looking for his son. That’s messed up, huh?”

Jason’s and my life are more similar than I first thought. Until I came here, if I had gone missing, no one would have bothered finding me either. The thing is, I know where Jason is. I have unfinished business concerning him, and if I don’t see it through soon, his spirit will haunt my dreams until I do.

Leo nods at my leg. “How’re you doing?”

I test it out and there’s only a small twinge when I bounce on it. “Good enough.”

Leo glances at Kera, then quickly away. He does it several more times, until I notice how quiet she’s become. Unusually quiet. “You okay, baby?” I ask.

She nods and quickly looks away.

Leo sighs. “I’m going to say it. Cool mind trick, Kera, but kind of creepy.”

Kera rubs her hand across the smooth, white painted railing and still doesn’t say anything. I have to agree with Leo, but I can’t publicly. I’m beginning to see Kera is having more problems adjusting to the infusion of magic than I thought. “Seriously, are you okay?”

She bites her lip, rubs her wrist, and nods. “A lot has happened today.”

“You can say that again,” Leo says, “and we’ve still got six more hours to go.”

Kera moves around me and whispers something in Leo’s ear I can’t quite catch. Okay, that’s plain weird. I stand straight and face Leo. “What’s this? I’m comatose for half a day and you steal my girl?”

Leo throws up his hands. “Bro, you can trust me. I’ve been…” He slices a question at Kera. “You going to tell him?”

She pales and shakes her head. I feel a spike of fear run through her, and I straighten. “You’re keeping secrets?”

“Not for long.” Leo looks out over the front lawn where the iron statues used to stand. Now they’re all scrubbed to raw iron and near the entrance to Teag, hopefully keeping us safe from any rogue firsts.

Kera turns her big violet eyes on me. “Do you trust me?”

“Yeah.” I don’t even have to think about it, but I’m wondering if I should.

Up until now, the people in my life have been more interested in themselves than me. I’m not averse to having a relationship, just not a fake one. I know how to deal with the rejection when I’m expecting it; it’s the getting my hopes up when I meet someone I think I can trust, and then having those illusions crushed that’ll drop me to my knees.

But with Kera, I have a unique bond. We instantly clicked. It’s that mystical thing everyone talks about, but no one believes is true. It’s what Romeo had for Juliet. What Isolde had for Tristan. What Lancelot had for Guinevere. They’re all tragic lovers, which should make me stop and reconsider my path, but my love for Kera is different. It’s real...though, like me and my magic, it must have limits. I don’t know what those limits are, and I’m not in a rush to find out.

Kera kisses my cheek. “I’ll tell you soon, I promise. Just remember, I can’t abide suffering.”

I turn to Leo. “What does that mean?”

He shakes his head. “Chick thing. If I were you, I wouldn’t try to dissect it.” He gives a sharp wave good-bye and starts down the porch stairs. “I’ve got to go clean out the back of my truck. It stinks like dead meat.”

Kera waves and says in a quiet, sweet voice, “Thank you, Leo.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He waves back and disappears around the corner of the house.

I turn, fold my arms across my chest, and lean my hip against the rail to watch Kera. She’s found another animal and this one is carnivorous? Her cheeks pinken as I continue to stare. She won’t look at me. “Kera, did you find another animal?”

She dips her head and still won’t make eye contact.

“Let me rephrase that. It’s not a secret. We know what you’ve done.”

“You know?”

“Bringing Leo into it was the tip-off. Grandpa says you can’t keep it. It’s not right. Dangerous, even.”

Her obsession with the cute and cuddly is sweet, but what if the animal turns aggressive? What if it has rabies? Has she thought of that? Does she know about that kind of thing?

She slides her hands along my crossed arms, slips her fingers between mine, and brings our hands together until we’re palm to palm and toe to toe. The misery on her face reflects her dilemma. “I’m not trying to keep him. He won’t leave.”

Having her this close is distracting. The smell of her. The way her lips tip up at the corners. The softness of her skin beneath my fingertips. I force myself to stay on topic. “You’re feeding him, that’s why.”

“But he’ll die if I don’t.” She steps closer, pressing her body against mine. “Or worse, he’ll start eating things he shouldn’t.”

“I know the little guy is probably cute and all, but if people around here find out what you’re doing, they won’t take the same view. They’ll say it’s a pest—it’ll destroy things—and some will say it’s better off dead.”

She instantly pulls away, horrified. “You would kill him? Truly?”

The sudden, yawning space between us throws my senses into a panic. I want her back in my arms, close and cuddling.

“Not me,” I quickly say. “I could never hurt anything you cared for.”

The lines on her face relax and she steps closer, running her hands up my arms to my shoulders. “I promise he won’t be a bother. I have him tied up in the woods. He won’t go near anyone. I’ve made sure.”

“Tying up a wild animal isn’t the answer.”

“He’s only a little wild. Truly, he needs me.”

“You can’t keep him.”

She drops her head to my chest, and I feel like a jerk trying to contain her loving, free spirit. I let out a heavy sigh. I’m going to regret this, but I can’t stop myself from saying, “Fine. Do what you have to do, but then—”

She jumps in my arms, cutting me off, and strangles my neck as she places kisses all over my face. I am sooo whipped. The funny thing is, I don’t care. I’ll do anything to make her happy. I wrap my arms around her and bring my lips to hers. She has the softest lips…

I stop thinking about everything except getting close, sliding my hands down and over her hips and pulling her closer.

The front door opens and a gasp sounds. “Dylan! Hands!”

We jerk apart, but I don’t let Kera go. I slide my arm around her waist and give it a reassuring squeeze. Kera gives me an innocent smile, not in the least bit upset about getting caught with my hands on her butt.

I smile back, and shoot a sheepish glance at the not-so-amused woman at the door. I clear my throat. “Sorry, Grandma.”

She shakes her head, knowing I’m not, and approaches us. “Kera, sweetheart.” She takes her hand and pulls her away from me. “Will you help me finish preparing dinner? It’s almost ready.”

“Of course.” Kera kisses me one last time. “You should rest.”

“Yes.” Grandma opens the door and ushers Kera in, then looks back at me, an adorable scowl on her face. “He’s had a busy day.”

I smile and follow them inside. “You keep telling me to keep busy and not be narcissistic, whatever that is.”

“You know perfectly well what that word means. Egocentric self-absorption leads to recklessness, and my goodness, you’ve been reckless today.”

On my way through the kitchen, I give her a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll do better.”

“Hmmm.” She pulls down a pot from the cabinet and eyes me skeptically. “One can only hope.”

…

The next day passes with little drama. The barrier is quiet. It’s a nice change of pace. Kera leaves to tend to her new pet in the woods. I don’t press her about it. She knows I’m right, that she can’t keep it, and I trust she’ll do the right thing. Midmorning, Wyatt arrives. We run. We spar. We keep it mellow, mostly because my technique isn’t stellar, though my speed and strength impress him. I make the mistake of asking after his brother, Reece.

“No sign of him.” He busies himself with the gear he’s stowed in the back of his truck. Poking through this, pulling out that. I can only guess what he has planned next for me.

I shake my head and wipe the sweat from my forehead. “Do you know where he could be?”

“Not a clue.” Turning back to me, his mouth thins. “Dad’s pissing mad and Mom’s worried. It’s not like Reece to leave without saying something.”

“You’re really worried about him.”

He gives me a funny look. “Yeah. My family’s tight.”

Definitely something I can’t say about Mom and me. Thinking about it makes my chest heavy and my throat thick. “It’s only my mom and me. I don’t have any idea where she is. Funny thing is, with all the shit she’s put me through, I still don’t hate her. If that’s not a kick in the ass, I don’t know what is.”

By the nervous expression on Wyatt’s face, I’ve just broken Bro Code Number 7: Never, under any circumstances but death, give out too much emotional information.

It’s not like he doesn’t know about Mom. He’s just a stereotypical guy who lives by the Army rule of suck it up.

And then he surprises me by slapping me on the shoulder. “I never should have said all that stuff about your mom. Her leaving doesn’t mean she doesn’t care. Her issues run deep.”

“Center of the earth deep.” My throat is so tight, air uncontrollably jags into my lungs.

He squeezes my shoulder again and pulls away. “Yeah, well, sometimes you’ve got to let go and let them get their act together.”

It’s nice of him to try, but he doesn’t get it. I let go of Mom years ago. Only some odd sense of guilt kept her close, but as soon as she got over that unexpected sensation, she ran like a dog seeking a hidden stash of bones.

Wyatt pulls out a harness and straps it onto me, then affixes the end of the harness to a wide board with footholds screwed to the top of it. “I call this dogging it.”

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what I’m supposed to do. “I’m going to pull you, aren’t I?”

“Yep. Don’t act so depressed,” he says, fitting his feet to the footholds. “This’ll be fun.”

His idea of fun and mine are not the same.

By late afternoon, I’m totally spent. I don’t feel as jittery. Maybe this whole “keep him exhausted” strategy will actually work.

Ensconced on the couch in front of the television, I channel surf, not really paying attention to what I’m seeing. Kera just got back from walking her new pet in the woods, and she’s helping Grandma in the kitchen. I’m relaxed. Happy. I actually have people who care about me. It’s a little unnerving. I’m not used to the attention. Seriously, how long can it last? So far, all the crap that’s been flying in my life since I arrived hasn’t turned them away. It’s kind of amazing.

Amid the familiar noise of canned laughter, yawn-able news headlines, and catchy commercial music, I hear a sharp, irregular tapping. Tilting my head, I try to locate the sound.

Across the room toward the big picture window.

The tapping is definitely coming from that area. The shades are down and only a sliver of light peeks out along the bottom edge. I grab the back of the couch and vault over it, my Nikes landing soundlessly on the wooden floor. As I approach, I duck to peer beneath the shade. A pair of black googly eyes stares back at me from the other side of the window.

With a strong yank on the shade pull, the window cover flies up to reveal a mole of a man with a big head and overly large hands and feet huddling against the side of the house, his usually pale skin now a dark umber. Bodog. I quickly crank open the window and pop out the screen. Bending deeply, I lean over the windowsill and yank the little guy into the house, where he slumps against himself as if his small stature is too large for the room.

He’s shivering. I don’t know why. It’s 75 degrees—a downright hot day for the wilds of Oregon.

“What are you doing here?” My demand is ignored. I get closer and try to pin down his wide-eyed gaze.

The little man snuffles around seeking shadows to hide in. He bumps into a bookshelf and a few books topple loose. Ducking, he lets out a sharp squeal. I snatch the books before they hit and put them back. When I turn my attention back to Bodog, he’s hiding under Grandpa’s desk. What happened to the little man who braved the torture chamber to rescue me? Something is really wrong.

I bend on one knee and peer into the desk nook. He’s huddled so deeply within the recess, all I see are his big, dark eyes and twitching ears. “Bodog, come out from there.”

A moan ripples from him. “Lost. Forever lost.”

“What have you lost? Do you think I know where it is? Is that why you’re here?”

He says nothing, only hunkers deeper into the corner. Palpable fear ripples from him like heat waves off pavement.

“You’re safe here, Bodog. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Easy promise. Difficult to keep.”

He’s right. I can’t make that promise, so I try again. “You’re in my world, in my home. I’ll do everything in my power to protect you. Do you believe me?”

It seems like forever before the tight ball he’s pulled himself into loosens. “Faith requires risk.”

Seriously, this guy is giving me a headache. My big bang in the barn weakened me, and my brain’s still not functioning at top speed. “Everything’s gonna be fine. Come out of there. Please.”

I’m encouraged when he slowly moves toward me, ears twitching, eyes darting. Out of the sun, his skin has transformed back into a shock of mushroom paleness. “Forever lost,” he says again.

“So you said. You want to expound on that?”

“So much. Too little time.”

“Can’t help you with what I don’t understand, dude.”

He’s almost out when he stops and plucks something off the floor. It’s a wayward piece of hard candy that’s sticky with fuzz. Bodog is undeterred by its appearance and pops it into his mouth. Strange noises come from him as he rolls the candy along his tongue. Suddenly, he makes a face and spits it onto the floor, where it lies in a puddle of green saliva.

Gross. “That is not cool!”

I pluck a wad of tissue from a nearby box, and with a quick scoop, wipe the candy and spittle off the floor and throw it away. I shake a finger in his unashamed face. “No spitting!”

Bodog makes a move toward the desk again and I grab his arm to stop him. It’s then I realize how thin he’s become. He’s starving. Not that it explains his behavior. He’s always been disgusting, but pity washes away my irritation. I drop my hand and squat eye to eye. “Bodog, what’s going on? How’d you get here?”

“Bodog has talents.”

“I know.” He’s saved my life more than once.

His gaze rockets around the room and lands on the doggy bed and chew toys. He inches closer as he says, “A tunnel. Very small. Very accurate. The guard did not see. In a blink, I slipped through.”

I thought as much. From his network of tunnels spidering beneath the earth in his realm, it’s a wonder the village he lives under hasn’t collapsed. “What are you doing here?”

“Much has changed.”

I haven’t been gone from Teag that long. How much change could’ve happened? “What are you talking about?”

“A dark magic. It’s up to you. Only you.”

Suddenly, a muffled cry of alarm blasts from the doorway. Bodog dives for the couch, causing it to thump along the floor as he tries to wriggle beneath it. I turn to see Grandma clutching her throat, her hand red from the heat of washing dishes. “What’s going on? What was that?”

Kera appears, a dish towel clutched in her hands, and gives me a questioning look.

“Bodog,” I mouth to her.

Kera rushes past Grandma and rounds the quaking couch. The large, dirt-encrusted foot sticking out from beneath it retracts to safety with a sharp jerk. She gets on her hands and knees and peers underneath the crisp pleat. “Bodog?”

A veil of satiny dark hair slips over her shoulder as she thrusts her hand toward him. “Come out. You are safe here. I promise.”

A minute passes, then two, but nothing she says will bring him out. Kera glances up at me. “He won’t be moved.”

“This is crazy,” I grumble. I know how to get him out of there. Stooping, I grab hold of the bottom edge along the short side of the couch and dead lift it high. Bodog isn’t crouched on the floor as we suspect, he’s clinging to the couch’s underbelly like a cockroach hiding from the exterminator, except this pest has found a worn doggy rawhide and has it firmly clasped between his teeth.

Grandma backs up. “Oh dear,” is all she says.

“This is ridiculous. Bodog. Let go!” When he ignores my command, I shake the couch in an effort to knock the little man free. It works. He crashes to the floor, resembling a pile of filthy rags more than a living being.

Kera gasps and quickly comes to his rescue, throwing me looks as if I’m the one causing all the trouble. When she gets him up, she gently removes the rawhide from Bodog’s mouth. Spittle runs a line of foam down his chin and splashes onto the floor. “Bodog is hungry.”

“I know.” Kera dabs at his face with a corner of the dish towel.

Grandma shakes her head. “I’ll get him something to eat.”

“My dear friend,” Kera says, drawing the dish towel away from his face. “Why have you come to us?”

His attention latches on to the doggy treat she still holds in her other hand, and big tears slip down his cheeks. “The beginning of the end has begun.”

Holding Secrets

At Bodog’s words, Kera rubs her arms as if she can’t get warm. A sudden sadness invades her; its scent rises like burned molasses. “He’s changed. Like us. And not for the better.”

Kera’s whisper dives past my ribs and kicks at my heart.

“What’s happening is my fault. I should have been stronger. Smarter.” I don’t like the thin, bony skeleton Bodog has become. “Look at him. I killed Faldon, his only protector, and now Bodog’s got no one.”

I’d let Bodog’s help during our wild escape from the land of Teag overshadow his true character. I simply forgot how needy he was—that he was fragile under all the bravery.

“You cannot shoulder the blame. I won’t let you.” She quickly steps away from me, takes Bodog’s hand, and leads him to the kitchen table. I follow them, my mind heavy with concern. Grandma slides a plate of leftover homemade mac and cheese, my favorite, in front of Bodog. He sniffs, tongues a cheese-covered noodle, and gags, spitting and moaning his distaste.

Grandma whisks the plate away and scrounges for something else to feed him.

I rub my forehead, disgusted with myself and the pain I’ve brought to Bodog. I have no doubt my misery is flooding the room. I’m drowning in it.

Kera bites her lip. “You don’t know the full truth of why he’s here. None of us do.”

She isn’t convincing. It’s just like Kera to try and save me from the agony of facing my own stupidity. It’s pointless, though. My faults scour through my mind 24-7.

Before coming to live with my grandparents, my life revolved around Mom and how I fit in the equation. I didn’t. So I stopped trying to figure it out. I stopped caring about others. Then Kera shows up and suddenly I find myself desperate to understand. Who am I? Where is my place? How do I fit into each realm, if at all?

My gaze latches on to Bodog sitting at the table. Is it possible, as he seems to believe, that I have control over more than my own life, that I have a destiny bigger than the one I face in the human realm? Or am I feeding a slowly emerging superego—my first self that’s desperate to be known?

Every day, I’m forced to control the hum of selfishness that begs to be let loose. It’s already tasted freedom. With that initial taste, when I’d first met Kera, the results were frightening. The first half of me didn’t blink at killing or shudder at the possibility of causing someone pain. It had me acting more like my renegade dad than I cared to admit.

When Kera and I stole Navar’s powers, I didn’t think about how it would affect me. But now the first side has grown into an insistent voice that nags at the back of my brain, rushes hotly under my skin, and heightens my senses until I think I’ll go crazy. My itch for power has grown worse. I can’t look at Kera, afraid she’ll see how selfish, how out-of-control, I’ve become.

“Right,” I whisper, uncomfortable with my thoughts, and scrub my head in frustration as I eye Bodog sitting at the kitchen table eyeing a peanut butter sandwich. “I’m not responsible for his problems, just partly responsible.”

The biggest part.

Kera won’t have me huddling into my misery. She cups my cheek, her fingers cool against my hot skin, her violet eyes soft and deep and calm as they probe mine. “We cannot change the past. Faldon made his choice, like we all do. He would have murdered your best friend and your grandmother, innocent people who knew nothing of our world and its evils. He was the closest thing to a friend as I’ve ever had, and I say you did right. By destroying him and Navar, you saved many.”

“For what?” I motion toward Bodog as evidence. “To die a slow death? I can’t defend my actions against that.”

Skin sags on his bones. His large eyes protrude. His nose and ears appear twice as big against a face that has shrunk. He has the look of the starving.

“He’s a shell of what he was,” I whisper harshly. “Look at him, Kera. What happened?”

A disassembled peanut butter sandwich is suddenly thrown to the floor, peanut butter side down. Bodog clutches at his throat, tongue lolling from his mouth. With a big show of disgust, he spits and scrapes the peanut butter out of his mouth with the edge of the tablecloth.

Grandma smacks his head. “Stop that!”

He jerks away and wiggles his tongue at her, saying, “You poison Bodog.”

“I am not poisoning you. That’s good food you’ve turned your nose up at.” Grandma grabs the empty plate, and Bodog rocks back and forth, scowling at her.

Kera grabs another rag to clean up his mess. “Please, Bodog. No more spitting.”

What are we doing wrong? My mind flashes back to the underground labyrinth that is his home, and I know. “He won’t eat any of it.”

Grandma picks up the offending plate and turns to me. “I’ve wasted good food on…” she hesitates and eyes Bodog as if she’s not sure what to call him, “…your friend.”

“I’ve got an idea, but…um…” I’m hesitant to say what it is.

“Whatever it is, I’ll feed it to him.”

“Whatever is a pretty broad term,” I warn her.

“If it’ll stop him from moaning and spitting, I don’t care what it is.”

“Okay, then. I’ll be right back. Stay put, Bodog.”

He nods and collapses against the chair like a windup doll whose key has stopped turning. I hotfoot it outside to the shed. Grandpa’s a fisherman. Living in prime fishing territory, he goes whenever the mood strikes him. Grandpa wouldn’t be caught dead without a ready supply of worms. I grab an old pail, open the bait box in the corner, and scoop out a pile of writhing beauties.

When I enter the kitchen, I grin at Grandma’s widening eyes. “You said whatever,” I remind her.

I take a plate from the cupboard and pour out a knotted glob of wriggling worms. Bodog’s face suddenly brightens.

“You might want to turn away,” I shoot over my shoulder at Grandma. “This isn’t going to be pretty.”

Within a staggeringly short period of time, the worms are sucked down the little man’s gullet. An entirely different series of noises rise as his tongue flickers out to lick the plate clean.

“More?” I ask. He nods. I make two more trips to the shed in an attempt to fill his endless stomach. Bodog wolfs down his meal quicker than a Shop-Vac. He lifts his plate and looks imploringly up at me.

“Sorry,” I say. “That was the last of it.”

Grandma shakes her head. “Your grandfather is going to be stomping mad when he finds his bait gone.”

Bodog leans back and cups his hands over his protruding belly. A burp ripples from his throat, scenting the air with an earthy odor. Grandma pinches her nose and turns away.

I take the chair opposite Bodog. I know what hasn’t occurred to Grandma. Bodog wouldn’t be here unless something really, really bad is going on. I plant my elbows on the table. “Doing okay?”

He nods.

“Good.” It’s time for some answers. “Why’re you here?”

His short-lived contentment disappears, and his eyes grow haunted. “All is lost.”

Getting information out of him is slower than watching worms crawl. “What’s lost?”

“Life. Bad things happening. Disarray. Death.”

I wonder how the news is affecting Kera. She’s suddenly very interested in the dish towel she holds. It’s twisted in a tight roll, and when she lets go, it unfurls like a dancer spinning on her toes.

Bodog’s filthy hand slaps atop mine, snapping my attention back to him. “Come back. You must save us.”

Before I can answer, Grandma steps forward with her hands on her hips, her usual gracious attitude gone. “Absolutely not. Dylan can’t go back. He almost died there.”

Bodog ignores Grandma’s outburst. His eyes grow large and pleading. “You must return. Hope is lost without you.”

Grandma swoops in and plucks Bodog from his seat by the tip of one floppy ear. Amid his screeching, she growls, “Out with you.”

Kera steps back, separating herself from the sudden chaos. Despite my shouts to stop, Grandma drags Bodog across the kitchen and rips open the back door. With a shove, she ejects him onto the porch, where he rolls like a half-chewed dog bone, coming to a wobbly stop near the railing. Grandma’s anger curls around her. “Scurry off into the hole you came from and don’t come back.”

“Grandma!” I push past her and help Bodog to his feet.

He hides behind me and whimpers against my sleeve as he eyes the angry human before him. “Crazy woman should leave Bodog alone.”

A strangling noise rises in Grandma’s throat. Kera peers out behind the screen door, a silent witness to Grandma’s protective nature.

Grandma steps forward and waggles a finger in Bodog’s face. “Not on your life! Your realm destroyed my daughter and nearly killed my grandson. Things are spilling out of your realm that give sane people nightmares. Dylan is not going back.”

A loud cuss erupts from the shed, and we all turn to see Grandpa stomp out, his dog at his heels and a fishing pole clutched in his right hand. “Someone stole my worms,” he shouts.

“George!” Grandma calls. She glares back at Bodog. “And to think I fed you. Wait until my husband hears about this.”

She lets out another yell and waves as she scrambles down the stairs toward Grandpa. I’ve never seen Grandma so fired up. Her eyes could’ve burned through wet leather the way she glared at Bodog.

A series of hesitant tugs attack my shirt, and I glance down. Bodog’s ears twitch and his mouth moves wordlessly. The poor guy’s been through hell and now Grandma’s after him. I take pity on him. “Tired?”

He nods.

“I’ve got the perfect place for you.”

“Dylan.” The screen door cracks open and Kera steps out. Her face holds deep shadows. “Maybe we shouldn’t—”

I shake my head. I can’t talk to her right now, and I leave her standing on the porch twisting the edge of her shirt with worry. I lead Bodog to the root cellar on the side of the house where a pair of large, wooden doors lie flat against the ground. When I pull the doors open, there’s the impression of a gaping mouth, eager to swallow whatever is pushed inside.

“Go on,” I urge Bodog, “but don’t touch anything. You can eat whatever crawly thing you can catch, just don’t touch anything else. Okay?”

He descends into the cellar, a small morsel for the looming darkness. Amid the hinges’ creaking protest, I hear a soft sigh. “Good dirt. Soft.”

I call down to Bodog. “No digging.” The last thing I need is for him to undermine the house foundation with tunnels.

A grunt, whether in agreement or not, is given.

“I mean it,” I say and then let the doors bang shut.

On my way back to the porch, I run into Grandma and Grandpa. “There he is, George. Now tell him.” The shrillness to Grandma’s voice is a testament to her panic. “He can’t go back. It’s not his problem.”

Grandpa cups Grandma’s shoulders and gently squeezes. “It’s not our call. He knows the danger. He knows it’s not going away.”

“What are you saying?” Grandma shrugs out of his hands, gawking at him as if he’s morphed into a goblin. “You’re talking like you think he should go. Do you want him to die?”

Air rumbles from his chest, and he glares down at her. “That’s a fool question.”

“Don’t you use that tone with me, Mr. Newman.” Grandma’s hackles are raised and she digs in for a fight.

“Now see here,” Grandpa says, waggling his finger at her. “I didn’t mean anything…”

I zone them out. Neither has a say in what I do. I’ve been dumped here, but that doesn’t mean I have to stay here. I don’t mean that in a disrespectful way—I’m not like them, not completely. My human self is only half the equation that guides me. Once my first half crested, it sunk its hooks deep into me. The ownership of my will has become a daily struggle. To deny either side is to deny who I really am, and I’m done pretending I’m normal.

As they argue, I feel the hairs on my neck rise. I turn to see Kera gripping the porch railing, her violet eyes ringed with worry. When she sees me staring, she slowly turns and goes inside. I follow.

Barefoot, she pads through the kitchen as silently as the ghost I thought she was the first time I met her. She moves down the hall and into my bedroom. The scent of new construction fills the air. After the firsts torched my room, Grandpa got busy rebuilding, and the bones of bare studs line the wall, its skin of drywall waiting patiently in the shed to be fitted and nailed on. The few clothes of mine that didn’t get damaged in the fire are neatly stacked and pushed out of the way. At least all the necessities—new bed, electricity, and working bathroom—are there.

“Close the door.” Her whisper is ragged.

I do as she asks because frankly, she’s freaking me out. I’ve never seen her like this. Quiet. Unreadable. She’s a girl who wears her emotions on her face; they pour out of her like the purest spring water. “What’s wrong?”

“Is it wise to go back?”

“You don’t need to go if—”

“No! I have to ask you…” Her voice ebbs away as if whatever she needs to ask me is the most painful thing she’s ever done. “Do you hear things? In your head?”

“What? No!” I take her hands, freaked by her questions and desperate to calm her worry. “I know you think I’m crazy, that I’m reckless, but I’m improving.” I run my hands up and down her arms. “I have to go, Kera. I made a promise to Jason.”

“Jason is gone.”

She doesn’t know about my nightmares. He may be dead, but his body deserves to be home with his family, to be at peace. “I know where he is. I can’t leave him there indefinitely. His parents don’t even know he’s dead. They deserve to know and mourn him...bury him.”

Kera pushes away, cutting me off. Her eyes darken. Her hands roll into fists, and she shakes her head vehemently. “No, no, no. You can’t risk your life for a dead friend. Jason would understand that.”

What’s wrong with her? It’s not like her to be so uncaring. I place my hand on her arm, but she jerks away. Letting my hand drop, I duck my head and try to make eye contact. “I’m not saying I’ll go now, just…soon. There’s only one way to know for sure what’s going on. I have to go back and see why Bodog is so frightened. If I can help, I’ve got—”

Without warning, the mirror hanging on the wall shatters. I lunge at Kera, protecting her with my body as the shards crackle and fall to the floor.

When it grows quiet, I pull away. Kera’s perfectly fine except her fingertips are glowing. I take a step back, frowning. “Kera? What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

She’s shaking. She goes to the bed and sits, curling until her elbows dig into her thighs and her hands rake through her long hair. “I don’t know. I made it break. I know I did, but I didn’t mean to. Something is not right. I can feel it. Like something else is inside me trying to get out.”

That sounds familiar. Didn’t I think the same thing about myself before Bodog showed up? But now, because of him and his gloomy news, we’re all on edge. I touch her hair. “It’s going to be fine.”

Her head pops out of her hands and she stares helplessly up at me. “How? I don’t feel normal. Do you understand? I’m not the same and neither are you.”

The presence of something wicked skitters under my skin. I know exactly what she means, but I’ve lived a lifetime ignoring strange sensations. I push this one to the side, too, and rub a hand over the sudden goose bumps on my arms.

My bedroom door bursts open and Bodog darts inside. His face is tight with apprehension. “It’s here!”

A series of shotgun blasts rip through the air. I glance toward the window. “What’s going on?”

Bodog doesn’t answer. His attention is caught by the shattered mirror.

Grandma appears at the door and clings to the frame, her face flexed with anger. “I’m a good Christian woman, but that…that creature has got to go. He’s made a mess in the cellar. Dog food is everywhere.”

I don’t care about dog food; it’s the shotgun blasts that riddle the otherwise quiet that have my attention now. “Who’s shooting?”

“Your grandfather said Reggie’s seeing things. He’s been on edge since…well, you know. He’s not supposed to use a gun so close to the house.”

I don’t think sending Grandpa alone to confront a guy with a gun is such a wise move, and I mutter something to that effect.

When I make to go and help him, she plants herself in front of the door and settles her hands on her hips, refusing to be pulled from her main mission. “Oh no you don’t. Your grandfather doesn’t need your help, I do. You’re staying right here, and you’re going to do something about him,” she says, pointing at Bodog.

Bodog, Kera, Grandma, and now Reggie, my frustration level is climbing higher by the second, and I snap. “What do you want me to do? I can’t poof him back to Teag.”

Her gaze jolts from Bodog to the mirror. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. What’s he done now?”

Before I can tell her the broken mirror isn’t Bodog’s fault, a strange hush settles in the room. The air grows heavy, unbreathable. Bodog stares into the broken pieces and they begin to rattle, then jump, twirling and flexing as they rise off the floor. Colors flash within their depths, the air sizzles, and a splinter of blinding light flashes. A puff of air slams into me, and I stagger back. When I refocus, the mirror is again a shower of bits scattered on the floor and Bodog is bent over, gasping.

Grandma’s eyes grow wide. She backs up, turns, and runs down the hall calling for Grandpa.

Her panic is infectious. Rising from the bed, Kera’s fingers curl into her T-shirt hem. Slowly, she draws near Bodog. “What do you see?”

Bodog stares at the broken bits. His brow wrinkles deep, and his hands flex against his knees. “Bad.”

A gnarled finger points toward the mess. “Deceit.” He turns. His eyes lift to mine. “Terrible pain.” He then peers at Kera, who has grown still with fear. “What disaster have you wrought?”

Her face pales. “Nothing.”

Bodog stabs his finger toward the mirror. “You did this.”

I put a protective hand on Kera’s arm and step forward, staring Bodog down. “She didn’t mean to do anyth—”

“Her future,” he interrupts even as he shrinks away from me. “Her doing.”

Kera steps back as if he hit her. “No.”

A dark condemnation appears on the little man’s face. “Yes.”

Trembling, her hand rises to her lips. The slow shake of her head is joined by a sharp sob. Grandma and Grandpa arrive, and amid Grandma’s demand that Grandpa get rid of our destructive guest, I grab Bodog by the shoulders and force him to look at me. “Show me what you saw.”

“Only Bodog sees.”

Grandpa crosses his arms against his bulldog chest. “Okay. I’ve about had it. Reggie’s shooting at shadows and now this. What kind of trick are you playing?”

“No trick.”

The force of Bodog’s assertion chases away the derisive tip to Grandpa’s lips. Stepping forward, Grandpa crouches, and when he nudges an oddly twinkling shard, an electric charge skitters from one piece to another. He jerks his hand away, and our eyes meet. I can see my sudden apprehension reflected in his hazel eyes. An understanding crosses between us. This is the beginning of something more. Something bigger. Dangerous.

I turn to find Kera gone.

Bodog tugs at my shirt, bringing my attention to him. His fingers clutch at the fabric, and when he speaks, his voice is edged with distress. “The truth fights to be seen.”

The truth? What truth? I really hate it when he talks like this.

“The truth fights to be seen,” I murmur. “Fights to be seen…”

I rub my arms, stilling the prickle of power humming under my skin.

That’s it! Kera and I are fighting to hold back a terrible power that’s within us. My sudden catch of breath grabs Grandpa’s attention. “This isn’t about Bodog, it’s about Kera and me, about the new powers we took from Navar.”

An ear-piercing screech shakes the house timbers. We all look at each other. “And that’s no imaginary shadow,” I say.

“It’s here,” Bodog rasps and slinks into a corner, his eyes wide with fear.

“What’s here? What is it?”

Bodog doesn’t say, he only crouches into a tight, frightened ball. “It will not stop,” he rasps.

Another quick series of shotgun blasts sound.

“George?” Grandma’s voice rises in panic.

Grandpa’s muscles tense from jaw to toe. The hardened soldier is back. He wraps his arm around Grandma and pushes her toward the door. “Let’s get you into the cellar.”

“I’m not going into the cellar without you.” Defiance colors her words.

I can see the lie before Grandpa says it. He pats her arm. “We’re all going.”

As Bodog whimpers and covers his ears against another shotgun blast, my mind whirls with possibilities. Bodog believes Kera let some kind of evil out. It’s ridiculous. But then…my gaze lowers to the shattered mirror. What if she’s no longer as innocent as she appears?

Another quick boom of a shotgun fills my ears. Kera’s out there.

“Kera!”

I spring into motion, push past my grandparents, and race down the hall.

“Dylan! Stop!” Grandpa shouts. “We don’t know what we’re up against.”

I ignore him. He’ll understand. There isn’t time. I have to find Kera before she gets hurt.

Pounding Hearts

I slam through the back door and trip down the stairs, yelling Kera’s name. The yard stands quiet and empty. The only sound comes from the back gate thumping in the evening breeze.

I vault over a pile of lumber and jig around the old motorcycle Grandpa’s fixing up in his spare time. Busting through the gate, I come to a bone-jarring halt and snap my head to each side, searching the dirt path that runs behind the house. My whole body feels like a spring, ready to uncoil. Where is she?

“Kera!” My call bellows sharply into the lengthening shadows.

Another screech ripples on the air. Not a human sound—it’s too deep, too strong. It rumbles in my chest, rattling my ribs. The ground shakes—dirt rises, pebbles jump—as if a herd of elephants is charging my way. I take a few steps toward the road and jump back as Leo tears around the corner of the fence.

Eyes wide, he pumps his arms and spins his long, skinny legs in the fastest dash I’ve ever seen. As he rockets past, he yells, “Run!”

I peer down the road and see Kera speeding my way, zigging this way and that, calling down thick branches as she passes. Behind her, a massive beast pounds the ground, easily snapping through the tree limbs. Its angular head bobs under a three-horned crest rising from a ruff of feathers. Little spikes poke down the bridge of its snout, which ends in a wickedly curved beak. Its front legs splay into sharp bird talons; its powerful back legs end in alligator claws that rip into the ground. The heavy tail whips back and forth.

The beast gets so close to Kera its breath stirs her hair. Its thickly breasted chest rises and a pair of huge feathered wings snap wide. Its front talons reach toward Kera.

I don’t think. I don’t plan. I dart forward, snatch her arm, and spin her away just as the beast grabs for her. With our hands firmly clasped, I haul her at breakneck speed in the opposite direction and rapid-fire a series of fireballs behind us. If I hit the beast, the scorching heat didn’t faze it.

The wingtips sweep back. Strong feet pound the ground as it adjusts direction. I tug on Kera’s hand and make for the woods, but she resists. “That’s where it came from,” she pants.

We head for the barn and dart inside. Slamming the door closed, I call on a thick carpet of entangled roots to grow up and around it, fusing the door to the ground. “This isn’t a good hiding place,” I say, but Kera’s already heading up the ladder to the hayloft.

“It’s after me. Only me.”

“How do you know that?” Just in case she’s right, I grab an old chamois lying over a stall railing, rub it up and down her arms and push it into a pile of hay near one of the far stalls before following her ascent. If we’re really lucky, whatever that thing is will get distracted by the scent and give us time to plan our escape.

“It chose me over Leo.”

“I’d choose you over Leo.”

“I’m serious.” Her voice breaks on a thread of pure fear.

“Okay, okay.” My attempt at trying to calm her isn’t appreciated, so I ask the obvious question as I place a hand on her buttock and force her higher. “What is that thing?”

“A monster.”

A massive bump to the door startles a yelp out of Kera. She freezes as claws scrape against the wood and roots.

“No kidding? Where’d it come from?”

“The woods.”

I give her another nudge. “I think we would’ve known something like that was living in our backyard before now.”

“It’s from Teag—a winged tri-top, but I don’t understand how that can be.”

“Why?”

“They are tiny creatures,” she huffs as she scampers the rest of the way up the ladder, “that live in the trees.”

I saw one the first time I went to Teag. It was a tiny bird-lizard thingy that scampered along the tree limbs. “Well, it’s not tiny anymore. It looks like something out of a Tim Burton version of Jurassic Park.”

I vault into the loft barely in time. With a heavy thud, the overgrown winged tri-top crashes through the door. Wood explodes into the barn and the structure groans as if it’s been knocked off its footing. Kera and I lie low. My heartbeat throbs painfully in my neck. I calm my breathing, but it’s not easy. I’m not used to being hunted by a huge bird-lizard. The beast snuffles and follows its sense of smell to the pile of hay where I hid the chamois.

Seeing it tear into the hay gives Kera’s theory credence. We scooch back on our bellies, and when we’re far enough away, I pull Kera toward the open hay door, where a knotted rope swings from its mooring beneath the eaves and extends to the ground far below us. I lift her onto the rope and whisper, “When you reach the bottom, head for the woods.”

“You don’t understand. No place is safe. Someone from my realm has sent it on a hunt. For me.”

“Just do as I say, okay?”

Braving her frustrated glance, I give her a hard kiss. Pulling away, I touch her flushed cheek. “Please.”

She nods and starts the slide down. I lean out, my torso dangling precariously at an awkward angle as I steady the rope.

A rush of goose bumps sweeps my arms, and instinct has me glancing over my shoulder. Leaning back inside, the sound of the rope’s bottom knot slapping the side of the barn fills my ears…and nothing else. The beast is quiet. I can almost imagine it tilting its head, listening to Kera’s rhythmic descent. What if it leaves and finds Kera outside? I have to do something.

Spying a pitchfork, I snatch it up and dart over to the edge of the loft. My sudden stop causes loose hay to fly into the air, and I peer through the pale green stems floating downward. It’s what I feared. That thing’s head tilts, cocking its tuffed ear to the sound. I fix my aim and hurl the heavy tines at the animal’s heaving side. Little good it does. The metal bars ping off the scaly body and its spiky head snaps up. Its beady eyes latch on to me. I guess I’ve accomplished my goal. It’s no longer intent on the noise Kera’s making.

“That’s right. I’m up here, you ugly hybrid.”

The beast’s sides puff up and it lets out a bellow. A stable of barn owls hoot and flap their wings high above in the rafters. I back away. Kera had better be on the ground and running.

As I back from the edge, the ladder shakes and I hear the wooden slats break. The scratch and smash of the beast trying to climb up the ladder is joined by another bone-jarring cry. My eardrums pop, and I turn to look back out the hay door.

The rope swings freely, but Kera just stands there on the ground. I hiss at her to start moving, but she doesn’t hear me. She isn’t scared—I would feel it if she were. She’s up to something, and that usually means trouble.

I jump on the rope, and in no time, slither to the ground. Kera’s wide-eyed gaze snares mine; she’s a porcelain statue, perfectly formed and fragile. Frightening growls and the sound of wood ripping apart shake the ground. The noise snaps her out of her trance. She stares wildly at the barn, an expectation that she’ll be captured any moment settling on her face. She believes the beast is after her, and from what I’ve seen, I agree, but she can’t give up.

I don’t fall into the hypnotic fear that’s clawing up my spine. Instead, I grab her hand and pull her after me. We take off down the dirt road that lies between the ranch and the forest. When we’re far enough away, I turn and throw fire at the barn. The old, dry wood soaks up the flames that grow hot and high. I can feel the heat where I stand. Nothing can live through that.

I’m totally wrong. The beast walks out of the flames, shaking the sparks off its feathers and body like water. The head twists from side to side, scanning the area for its prey.

“Oh no, no, no, no, no,” Kera chants in disbelief even as I pull her along behind me.

I scramble for a plan, but everything I think of has inherent flaws.

The sound of the barn caving in crashes behind us. I feel Kera hesitate. “Don’t look back!” I yell.

The ground quakes with the force of the beast’s pursuit. Our feet stumble. Kera falls. I tug her upright and force her to move.

“It’s not going to stop.” Her tone holds a note of inevitability.

“It will.” My promise is meaningless, and we both know it. “I’ve got to think.”

Kera yanks her fingers out of mine and backs away.

Each step hammers painfully against my heart. The beast is tearing up the road behind her, growing larger and larger as it nears. Its eyes lock on to Kera. Muscles expand. Contract. It rushes toward her like a runaway bull. Kera continues to back up, her face calm, yet her body quivers with fear.

“No!” The word is ripped from my heart.

I call on my powers and concentrate on a patch of dirt road. The earth rumbles, and a chasm splits the ground between Kera and the beast. With hands glowing, I wait for the big, ugly lizard to tumble into the jagged rift so I can bury it.

Wings snap out, and the beast begins to rise; its armored chest frames the background behind Kera’s body. She extends her arms as the beating of its wings snaps her hair forward and molds her shirt against her back in the sudden gust. “There’s only one way it will leave.”

The monstrous thing soars over my trap. I uselessly hold out my hand. “Kera!”

Her eyes pierce mine. How can she think sacrificing herself to save the rest of us is a good idea? My hand glows and a tree rips out of the ground and slams into the beast. Wood splinters everywhere. I do it again and again with the same results. It barely slows the thing down.

I can’t stop what’s about to happen even if I want to, and that realization twists my gut. Just before the talons encase her upper arms, her plea is carried to me on the dirt-laden wind. “Let me go.”

She’s suddenly jerked into the air. The beast bellows its triumph, shaking the leaves from the surrounding trees as it wheels about and carries Kera off toward Teag.

Let her go? She knows I can’t. Just the thought rips into my heart. I need to follow her, but the first in me rises in a familiar, dangerous way. I know what’s coming, what I’m about to let loose. I fall to my knees, struggling with the power that’s building within me. I can’t use it. It’s too new. Too raw. I could easily kill not only the bird, but Kera.

My skin burns brighter. The power wells up hotter and faster. Last time I felt like this, every living thing within a mile radius got burned to a crisp because of me. I slam my fists against the ground, cracking it open as I plunge my hands elbow-deep into the soil. My breathing shreds my lungs as I try to control my power. It’s no use. The first in me bursts to the surface. Kera is mine. No one has the right to steal her from me.

I direct all that anger and energy into the earth. The dark magic that’s in me slithers over the ground, poisoning everything it touches as it races off the dirt road toward the forest.

Grass turns brittle brown. Nearby, trees turn an ugly ash gray. My power kills everything it touches. Even the bugs deep in the soil sense my invasion. Those that make it to the surface sizzle and blacken.

The gate to our backyard swings open. Grandpa steps out. “Dylan!” his call rumbles with concern.

The poison rushes on. Radiating in an ever-widening circle. “Get back!” I growl. There’s no sign of myself in the voice that explodes from me.

As Grandpa hesitates, Grandma appears and moves closer. “Dylan?”

“No!” I call. Misery slips into my voice. “No. Please.”

I can’t let them die. I won’t be the cause of more death. I struggle for control, grit my teeth, and will the power to obey me…and it does.

The magic in me surges one last time and disappears. Exhausted from the fight, I rip my hands from the earth and collapse onto my back, holding my hands out, seeing the white-hot vapor pulse, then fade.

Kera’s gone.

A hole has been punched through my heart, and I can’t take a deep enough breath. I can’t speak. I can only shake, as if I’m coming off a meth high, and I stare at the darkening sky.

Grandma and Grandpa rush to me, their footsteps crunching against the newly burned ground.

Reggie appears, breathless and sweaty. “Did you see that thing? It took the girl. I would’ve shot it down, but I was afraid I’d hit her.”

“We saw. You did right,” Grandpa says. Grandma whispers to Grandpa, wondering what’s happened to me. Grandpa doesn’t say. He bends over me, his face a mixture of shock and anger. “Get up.”

The command is clear, but I can’t. I’m all flesh. No bones. Without Kera, I feel all gray. Completely colorless. Joyless.

And then there’s the after-burn of my powers. I can’t stop shivering.

Grandpa squats and pulls me upright. I struggle to be free, yelling Kera’s name over and over as he hefts me over his shoulder. He squeezes my legs to still me and mutters, “Damn your hide, boy. I’m getting too old for this.”

“He’s burning up.” Grandma slips her hand over my heated skin and cups my cheek. “It looks like he’s sunburned.”

They carry me toward the house, their concern a comfort I need but can’t seem to take.

Leo appears at the gate and holds it open for them. He surveys what I’ve done. “Not again.”

“He’s done this before?” Grandma asks, her voice rough, as if she’s been yelling over a thousand other voices.

“He’s done worse,” Leo admits.

Grandma stifles her distress against her fingers. The sin that I wanted to keep secret is finally out. I begin to mumble. “People are dead…killed...by me. I’m sorry. The first in me…it’s not good…evil. I can’t control it. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

Leo briefly places his hand on top of my head. “You did good, bro. Everyone is still alive.”

“Kera’s gone.” I’m drowning in my own guilt. “I failed.”

“Giving up is failing,” Grandpa says as he takes the stairs two at a time. “We’re not giving up. We’ll find her.” Using his foot, he nudges and then shoulders his way around the kitchen door. Bodog’s moan of despair reaches my ears, yet he bolts out. No one bothers calling him back, mostly because we know he won’t go far.

Slumped over Grandpa’s shoulder, I’m easily dumped on the couch, and a cool, wet cloth is slapped on my forehead. I meet everyone’s stare. Everyone except Reggie. His interest lies more on what’s outside. Every time our eyes meet, they reflect the horror of what he’s seen. He’d like it if I disappeared and left them all alone. Who could blame him? Pop, Reggie’s dad and Leo’s grandfather, is dead because of me. So much bad has happened, I can’t stand to look at myself in the mirror.

The room is silent. Everyone stares at me, waiting for I don’t know what. Grandma flips the cloth on my forehead. Minutes pass. My mind clears. I’m oddly calm. I fought the craziness that’s in me and won. I now have a purpose and a confidence I’ve never had before. I know exactly what I need to do. I tug the cloth off and ease myself into a sitting position. “I nearly killed all of you and for that I’m sorry. I’m a real keeper, aren’t I?”

“Well…,” Reggie drawls softly.

Leo slants his dad a warning, then puts on a cheesy smile and directs it at me. “No worries, bro. We needed to clear a few trees around there anyway. You actually helped us, right Dad?”

Reggie shrugs and turns away. “Sure.” He lifts the corner of the shade and peeks outside. Tension oozes from his every move. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t want to get caught with my pants down again. If that thing comes back, I have every intention of blasting it out of the sky.”

Grandpa nods. “Okay. Reggie and I will go get the guns. The rest of you stay put. When we get back, we’ll figure out what to do about Kera.”

The look he gives me before he leaves says it all. I’ve been relegated to the group of women and children. Stay put. Don’t move. In other words, I’ve done enough damage.

Grandpa fails to understand this is my fight. I’ve made mistakes. My powers are unpredictable at best, but I’m the one who’s got to solve this mess. Not him. Not Reggie. Not anyone. Just me.

On their way out, Grandpa and Reggie pass Wyatt coming up the porch steps.

I stand, though Grandma fusses at me not to, and my gaze settles on Leo. “Where’s Bodog?”

The back door opens and Wyatt calls into the house, “Hey, do you all know there’s some ugly little guy outside slurping down burned worms?”

“It’s disgusting,” Grandma mutters, unconsciously balling the wet cloth in her hands.

“What happened?” he asks.

Leo waves at me. “Dylan happened.”

Wyatt slumps onto a nearby chair and tosses his feet onto the coffee table. “Why am I not surprised?”

Leo gives Wyatt a condensed version of events from the wriggling monster to the flying beast, throwing strained glances at me as if he expects me to go supernova on him again.

“He could’ve been hurt,” Grandma says. She moves near Wyatt and smacks his legs, and he drops them off the table.

Leave it to her to think of my welfare when I could have so easily crispified her and Grandpa. I don’t deserve her devotion. I hate causing her worry, but what other choice do I have? I nod Leo toward the door. “Go get Bodog.”

Leo takes off to do as I ask, and Grandma’s expression pinches with anxiety. “What’re you going to do?”

I don’t answer her. If she knew what I planned, she’d try to stop me.

“Dylan?” Her worry echoes in the sound of her voice.

Nothing can stop me now. I get why everyone’s on edge. I get that I’m not superhuman. But I’m more than human. I’ve got powers none of them know about. The explosive nature of my new gift races under my skin in a way that’s frightening…but I’m done being scared.

I’m going to let the first part of me take control. On purpose this time. It’s the only real weapon we’ve got. And for the first time, I can honestly say I’m not scared of what I am.

Part Two

The land burns.

The dark rises.

Only one can save what was once lost to a living grave.

Edge of the Unknown

The talons clenched around Kera’s shoulders dug into her muscles. She hadn’t thought this through. Her scream caught in her throat as the creature lifted her high above the treetops. Twisting and turning, she tried to reach her incordium dagger, but couldn’t. No amount of struggling helped.

She was roughly shifted, and the next moment they dove toward the earth. Their descent crashed them through the ends of branches that slapped and stung Kera’s cheeks. Her feet hit the ground, and she was dragged, ripping a long furrow into the dirt. The tri-top’s wings flapped in hard sweeping beats, creating a huge wind as it ripped a hole through the barrier. The mist surged around her, clung to her skin, pulled her forward, and all too soon they were in Teag.

The tri-top raced upward until the scope of Teag lay below them. The land was under attack. How could so much have changed in one day? Kera could see small skirmishes, feel the heat of fire and smoke as far-flung towns burned. Refugees clogged the roads as they fled. It was as if someone was creating a ring of fire, burning Teag from the outside in with the intent of driving the people toward a massive walled city under construction that Kera had never seen before. The city was as beautiful as it was frightening. Like unwary cattle on their way to the slaughter, none of them knew the danger they were running toward. Kera screamed for them to turn back, but her warnings were stolen by the wind.

When she was young, her dreams had been dotted with feelings of helplessness, feelings of being caught and unable to break free. Her nightmares had come true, but seeing others marching into a trap was far worse.

Ahead, an old bridge no one ever used—ever—stretched across a river less than a mile long that would mysteriously appear and then disappear into the ground. Horrific stories were attached to the place. Stories of death and despair and lost hope. Get too close and the hair along the back of the neck would rise, followed by the sensation of a hundred needles stabbing the skin. Linger too long and the pain turned torturous and always convinced people to find another route.

Yet the beast flew straight for the bridge. Twenty feet. Ten. They were moving so fast, the pain of needles quickly morphed into the dig of a dagger. Kera cried out and fought against the bubble of her rising panic. Five feet. Two feet. They were at the edge of the gorge.

The tri-top pressed forward. Kera felt the thickness of magic give, like a heavy velvet curtain being ripped apart, and the little gorge suddenly turned into a gaping canyon.

The next wingbeat brought into the view the land of the Unknown. No one had to tell her. She just knew. It was a place where only the harshest and most vicious of creatures lived. Nothing kept the evil in check except the cloaking spell and the ragged and impossibly deep chasm magic had created.

As soon as they hit the edge of the canyon, the pain ceased and Kera closed her eyes. All sound dropped away as if it were being sucked into the abyss. The tri-top’s wings beat harder, straining to reach the other side. Only when the sound of the wind against the leaves returned did she open her eyes. The Unknown stretched out before them, much larger than she ever dreamt possible. In the distance, a lake the color of amethyst sparkled eerily, and beyond that a smoldering caldera spewed thick, acrid smoke.

The struggle to fly across the chasm caused them to drastically drop lower. They were skimming the top of the forest where the trees jutted out at strange angles and rough leaves edged in silver shimmered prettily. Kera couldn’t stop her feet from hitting a few branches and knocking the leaves free. Dozens of cuts slashed across her boots’ stiff leather, and a silver-edged leaf got stuck.

The leaves were as sharp as knives.

The tri-top fought to fly higher, banked to the left, and headed straight toward the caldera. Even in the light of day, the pop and spit of lava could be seen.

“Oh no, no, no.” An image of her being dropped into the caldera, skin and muscles blistering off her bones, caused Kera’s stomach to wrench against itself.

Every action in life carried risk. If she did nothing, she was sure she would die. She had to reach her incordium dagger. Seeing a branch sticking into the air, she waited. When they flew over, she placed her feet on the limb and pushed, sweeping her legs up. She grabbed the dagger’s hilt sticking out from her boot and pulled the weapon free. Her grip was so tight, she could feel the ridges on the hilt dig into her fingers. The tri-top jerked higher, gaining distance between them and the treetops.

Falling into the trees, there was a chance at life. With a quick motion, she cut the tendon on the tri-top’s left claw. The animal screamed and jerked its foot up, letting her left arm go in the process. As she hung suspended in one claw, she waited for a gap in the trees. When she saw one, she quickly slit the other tendon. The claw opened and she slid free, the talon scraping her skin raw.

She called on the trees to catch her, but only a few limbs quivered at her command. Concentrating harder, the leaves trembled, and at the last moment, they detached from the branch, falling to the ground just as the limb shot out and plucked her from midair.

Kera’s heart thudded wildly as she lay stunned in the crook of the newly bare branch. The landing had been hard, not at all like the soft touch of the trees in her woods. It was almost as if the tree fought to obey her. Her right shoulder was bloody and raw, and her back hurt from the landing, but she was alive. She eased herself into a sitting position and gauged the distance to the ground. More than ten feet by her estimation. She carefully plucked an especially nasty sharp leaf from her boot and prepared to jump.

Before she could do it, a bird landed on the end of her branch and cocked its vibrant blue head. A series of crisp, high notes sang out and the bird turned its hypnotic yellow eyes on Kera. The long, multicolored tail swished in a way that made the colors shimmer. Like the eye-catching shimmer of the silver-edged cutting leaves, there was always danger hidden within the beauty of the Unknown.

Kera sat perfectly still, hoping the bird would fly off. One moment the bird sat prettily, the next moment, it morphed into an emaciated girl, crouched and snarling. The beautiful feathers were replaced by reptilian scales, and the tail was now a whip of skin and bone. The girl’s stiff lips parted. No sound came forth, but Kera’s head felt as if it were being torn apart.

She slumped backward and flipped off the branch, miraculously landing solidly on the ground. Like a worm working its way into an apple, the pain burrowed deeper inside her head. Kera closed her eyes and blindly darted into the shadows. She wanted to cry, to stop and curl into a ball. Her feet tangled and she stumbled. Mind full of pain, she whimpered and felt a warm trickle of blood seep from her nose. Even as she felt her mind tearing under the onslaught, she forced herself to keep moving.

Though she tried, the forest didn’t respond to her commands, as if it balked at helping something destined to die anyway. She ended up barreling through the brambles. Barbs tore through her clothes, leaving behind nasty scratches.

Though the pain slowly faded, her heart raced. She had to calm down. Her mad dash into the woods was doing more harm than good. Slowing, she listened for any pursuit.

The woods were quiet, all except a strange cry she couldn’t quite place. Was it up ahead? Behind her? Kera pushed her way forward until the trees thinned at the edge of a clearing. The strange cry sounded again, closer. It held a note of misery to it. Peeking through the brambles, she saw movement in the clearing. The wounded tri-top that had carried her here lay on the ground as a pack of huge wolflike creatures soundlessly tore into it. Their quiet ferocity chilled her, and in minutes, the tri-top was a jumbled pile of blood, feathers, and bones. It had served its purpose by bringing her here. She could only guess that whoever had enchanted it didn’t care if it lived or died. Much like her. A shiver crawled down her back.

One of the wolves suddenly turned and stared in the direction Kera was hiding, its eyes glowing red in the fading light. The creature stood on its back legs like a man and walked closer, its powerful body undulating grotesquely as it moved. It sniffed the air. Kera shrank against the shadows, her breathing so faint, her vision blackened around the edges.

The wolf-man suddenly stopped when one of the others drew closer, yipping and snipping, sharp teeth flashing threateningly. The wolf-man turned with hackles raised and growled.

While their attention was diverted, Kera scooted away on trembling legs. A light rain had begun, its erratic patter enough to cover the sound of her escape. It was all she could do not to run from the area in horror at what she’d just seen.

When she finally stopped, the woods were cloaked in rain and darkness. The downpour made her progress miserable. Standing still left her struggling to stay upright. She had to find shelter somewhere safe and dry, but all she found was rain, soggy ground, broken fingernails, and a bone-deep chill. She couldn’t imagine finding a dry patch of ground, let alone shelter. It took her a half hour more of slipping and catching herself against one tree after another before she found a den made by some large animal. It had been dug at the base of an earthen slope. Bushes not only concealed the entrance, but it was a natural wind- and rain break. Kera eased the foliage from the entrance and stooped inside. Cobwebs stretched across the opening and clung thickly to the walls—a sign the den had been abandoned long ago. Although she wasn’t fond of spiders, she didn’t think twice about going in. The den wound deeply into the earth, and when she reached as far back as she could go, she dropped to her knees and hugged her torso.

Shivering in the dark, she thought of what she knew of the Unknown. None of it was comforting. No one knew for sure exactly what lived in the region, but she’d already seen enough. It was exactly why the chasm was created. To trap the evil and let it fight and feast on its own kind. In theory it sounded rational; seeing it with her own eyes made her sick.

The heat of fear raced through her body. She was trapped with all manner of evil.

And no one knew she was here.

Remembering the stretch of empty air over the deep rip in the earth, tears spiked her lashes. She didn’t bother wiping them away. A wave of defeat washed over her. Lying down, she drew her knees to her chest and squeezed her eyes shut. She was good and stuck. No one could help her now, even if they realized where she had gone.

Because no one, absolutely no one, left the Unknown alive.

Whispers of Fear

“What is he?” Wyatt whispers to Leo while I sit across from Bodog at the kitchen table, sketching a picture sure to make the little guy squirm.

“I’m not sure,” Leo says. “Some sort of cross between a goblin and a gnome maybe?”

“He’s the perfect case against genetic engineering.”

Done, I toss the pencil on the kitchen table and flip the paper to face Bodog. He takes one look at my drawings and cries out, throwing his hands up as if to ward off the creatures. Yep, he knows more than what he’s saying. I thrust it closer to him and demand, “What are they?”

“Terrible,” his suddenly small voice says.

“Tell me something I don’t know. Why’d they come here?”

“I know naught.”

“This one wanted me. Only me. But this one wanted only Kera. Why?”

“I know naught.”

“Not good enough, Bodog.” I lean closer. “I need to know why it wanted Kera.”

“Reasons for enchanting are for the enchanter to know.”

“Someone enchanted that thing? Whatever happened to making pumpkins into coaches and mice into horses?” Wyatt asks in disbelief. “This has all the makings of a twisted Cinderella story.”

“Who?” I demand, ignoring Wyatt.

“I know naught.”

With each question, Bodog slips in his chair until he’s a puddle of brown- and green-colored rags.

My hand slaps the table. “You have to know something. Where would it take her? Think!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a movement. Leo leans forward, his broad shoulders breaking into my line of vision.

“Don’t interfere,” I snap. He has no right. He returned after everything went quiet—after Kera was taken and the area lay in ruins.

I shouldn’t blame him. Leo has no powers, no defense against the creatures that inhabit Teag. But his abandonment still stings and brings out one clear fact. Nothing has really changed. No one has my back.

Not put off, Leo moves closer. “You’re scaring him.”

His deep voice, usually calming, has no effect on me. “Good! I’m freakin’ pissed, and I need him to tell me something I can use.”

“Remember who and what he is.”

“Okay,” sarcasm drips from my tongue as I lean back in my chair, “what is he?” My gut clenches when I watch the odd little man nudging the image of the beast I’d drawn off the table. “I’ll tell you. He’s a guy who showed up uninvited and probably let that thing into our world.”

“Untrue.” Bodog straightens in his chair.

“How’d it get in, then?”

“The wall weakens.”

“Are you telling me the wall, the whole thing, is breaking apart now?”

Grandma, who’d been quietly staring out the window waiting for Grandpa to return, whirls around in time to see Bodog nod. “Good God.”

Leo lets loose a muffled curse. His fingers grip the back of my chair, and he turns to glance out the window. “Anything can be out there. Like the pux.”

“What are pux?” Wyatt asks.

“Spiteful little flying devils. They outfitted me like a ganja-smoking Rastafarian and nearly enslaved me in their world.”

I pop out of my chair; my heart is pounding, telling me to do something, except I have no idea what. “Lani caused the breach, but they were small areas.”

Bodog slips the corner of his shirt collar into his mouth and nervously chews. “The pux made their sacrifice. The powers that kept it strong have gone.”

I don’t like the sound of that. Especially since I’m the brand-new owner of some pretty intense powers that aren’t my own. It would be just my luck if Navar had been the one keeping the barrier strong. I spin around and head for the back door. “This is stupid. I shouldn’t be here. Kera’s in trouble. I’ve got to go.”

“Yes, yes, yes. Find Kera.” Bodog hops out of his chair and scurries next to me, his expression hopeful.

Grandma grabs my arm. Her eyes cloud with sudden panic. “And exactly how are you going to do that?”

Bodog grabs my other arm, his determination equaling Grandma’s fear. “I will help.”

Her fingers dig in, and she throws Bodog a hard glare. “Help him get killed is more like it. You’ve already admitted you don’t know anything. Now let go or I’ll…I’ll throw you in a tub full of soap. God knows you need a good dip and scrub.”

The back door opens, and everyone turns to see Grandpa and Reggie enter the kitchen. They’re loaded down with some impressive weapons. Grandma lets go of my arm and rushes to Grandpa, while Leo and Wyatt take the bulk of the guns and stack them on the counter.

Bodog pulls me down to his level. The hunching coward is gone, and the Bodog I know he can be stares back at me, strong and insistent. “Her usefulness is in bringing you back. To hurt you. You must go now or she dies.”

“You’re talking about vengeance? Was that in your vision?” Who in Teag hates me so much that they’re willing to hurt Kera in order to cause me pain? “Do you know who’s doing this? Tell me.”

“No time.” He moves closer and drops his head. “If you wait, all is lost.”

I don’t need any more encouragement. “Let’s go.”

When I straighten, Grandpa is standing between me and the door.

“We’ve been through this before, Dylan,” he says, though there’s no heart behind his words. He’s saying what Grandma wants to hear.

Bodog tugs on my arm. “Come. Come.”

I take a step forward, encompassing them all with one look. “What’s there to know? Kera’s in trouble. She’s in Teag, and I’m going to find her.”

The whole room explodes with everyone talking at once. They crowd around me, cutting off my path to the door.

“Why you?” Grandma asks.

“Good. Let him go,” Reggie yells.

“I get it, dude,” Leo says, “but are you sure?”

Grandpa cups my shoulder. “Leaving half-cocked isn’t wise. Let’s plan this out. Get a clear picture of what’s going on.”

“Exactly,” Wyatt says, agreeing with Grandpa.

They’re suffocating me, inching closer and closer. My breathing grows ragged. I feel panic rise in my chest where it hammers out an insistent beat. No time. No time.

I see Bodog by the door, waving me forward. “Come. Now.”

“Let go,” I say, and struggle to reach the door.

“He’s going to leave. George, do something!”

Grandpa’s big hands slam against my shoulders, their weight crushing. If I don’t get away now, I never will.

“Calm down, Dylan.” He gives my shoulders a squeeze. “You can’t go. Not yet.”

I stare into his war-hardened eyes and search for something that’ll make him listen. “I know you think I’m making a mistake, but I love her like you love Grandma.”

Wyatt groans and shakes his head like being in love is something to be avoided at all costs.

I ignore him, focusing instead on Grandpa. Winning him is all that matters. “I have to go. There’s no other choice.

The room is quiet. Everyone is holding their breath, watching Grandpa. A flicker of understanding shows, and the hardened soldier relaxes. I slip around him, and he lets me go.

“George!” Grandma’s strident objection reverberates against the cabinetry.

“What?” He faces Grandma, a resigned air about him. “You heard him. How can I stop him from doing something I would do?”

“He’s not prepared! You said it yourself. Please,” she says on a sob, “you have to stop him. We’ve lost Addison. We can’t lose him, too.”

This is a no-win situation for him, and I know without a doubt which side he’s going to choose.

He heaves a heavy sigh, and I feel a big hand spin me around. I’m ready for him, and I swing. Grandpa pulls back. I miss.

I actually miss!

I spy Wyatt chuckling as he leans against the counter. Our eyes meet. His grin widens and he waves.

I’ve done what he tried to teach me not to do—underestimate my opponent. Grandpa’s old, but he’s still got moves.

I refuse to believe as Wyatt thinks, that I’ve lost my chance, and nudge the door open with my heel. If I can keep Grandpa off me for a second longer, I can outrun him. I hold up a glowing hand and warn, “Don’t make me do something I’ll regret.”

Grandpa’s expression changes from compassionate to outrage. “Boy, nobody threatens me.”

And in the next instant, he swings. His knuckles connect with my jaw. Bones crunch. My legs fly out from under me.

I’m already starting to lose consciousness when I reach the floor, and the kitchen goes dark.

The dream hits me in the face almost as hard as Grandpa’s punch. I jackknife straight. The forest clearing is stripped of color. Browns and grays melt together. The leaves’ edges are tipped with silver, and though they shimmer, they bring no warmth. A feeling of hopelessness presses down on this spot. I glance right and left, and then I see Kera.

I feel a tug of alarm. I never expected her to be here in this cold, barren place, sitting quietly, her knees tucked under her chin, her arms wrapped around her legs. The picture feels…wrong.

Her hair is a tangled mess and her clothes are wet and dirty. A crinkle of danger slips against my spine. A swift glance around doesn’t find anything suspicious lingering nearby. Kera looks small. Lost. With her cheek pressed against her kneecaps, she stares off into the trees. I scoot closer. Take her hand. The tips of her fingers are icy and pale. I gently rub them pink. Wherever she is, it’s freezing.

When I first met Kera, she was my dream girl, a mute fantasy relegated to the night. I still don’t know how she entered my dreams, but she saved my life back then. Even when I grew old enough to know better than to have a make-believe friend, I’d call on her and she would always be there. Always.

Little did I know back then that we were two souls destined to be together. I used to know what she was thinking. A tiny nudge, and she’d relay her heart. She has expressive eyes. Soulful.

In the last week, she’s become distant. Oddly secretive. I can feel her confusion, her need, but I can’t place the source. Her fingers suddenly tighten against mine. She’s staring at me, her violet eyes intense and rimmed with fear.

“Do you love me?” Her whisper pulses with tension.

Chills sweep my spine. An image of Mom flashes in my head. She’s standing in the kitchen asking Grandma the same thing right before she abandons me. Blood suddenly surges through my veins. Light-headedness causes me to sway. “Why are you asking me—”

“It’s either yes or no.” Though Kera speaks softly, the edge to her voice has the ability to cut.

The message behind her words nearly chokes the breath from me. It could completely destroy me. There’s no choice. I could never deny what I’m feeling. Not to her. “Yes. I’ve loved you all my life.”

She lifts her head from her knees. Tears sparkle against her long lashes. Is that despair? Does she no longer believe me?

My panic must show. She brings our clasped hands to her lips and places a butterfly kiss on my knuckles before pressing her forehead to them. Her whisper is low and filled with pain. “I’ve loved you for so long, I can’t comprehend a life without you.”

She still loves me. Yet my relief is short-lived.

She lowers our hands and returns to staring at the trees like they’re growing feet and will take off. “I hate not being with you. Worse, I will never see you again.”

“No.” It’s a small word filled with shock.

I tug her close and fit her against my side. She’s despondent, I can feel that much, and she’s listening. Looking. Her body pressed against mine is taut. Expectant. I wait for a moment, and then ask, “What’re you looking for?”

“Home.”

The longing in that one word surprises me. “Where are you, Kera?”

I wait, and when I think I need to repeat my question, she says, “Is this a dream?”

The fear radiating off of her is physical. My heart nearly stops. I tell myself to keep breathing. “Yes.”

“I thought so, but I wasn’t sure. I don’t feel right.”

“What do you mean?”

She lifts our entwined fingers. “I cannot feel. My senses are dull.”

“I don’t understand. Are you hurt?”

Her face struggles to contain her panic. “I can’t leave.”

She rests her forehead on her knees. I hold her tighter and search the woods more closely. Why can’t she leave? Why can’t she tell me where she is? The thought of her being hurt sends my heart racing. “I promise I’ll find you and bring you home.”

She shakes her head, her long hair veiling her shoulders as if to hide her. “It is wrong to wish you here. I’m stuck and no one can help me.”

When will she learn? I’m not going to walk away. Ever.

I run my fingers up and down her spine, lean close, and kiss the shell of her ear. “It’s not wrong. I’m coming to get you. Don’t worry.”

“You don’t understand. Your going back to Teag is my greatest worry. They’ll kill you, and then we’ll both be dead.”

Sobs slip from her throat and the dream slowly dissolves, leaving me more empty and alone than I’ve ever been.

Leaping Ahead

Nothing can rip your heart in two more than someone you love sounding scared. It’ll wake you out of the nastiest punch and put you on your feet ready to fight the world. I sway, blinking against the fuzz that encases my brain.

My legs are braced apart and my fists are up, ready to fight for Kera. But the girl I love, the girl I need more than my next breath, isn’t here. I instinctually try to sense her, and I barely feel her even though she’s crying out. That worries me.

The bedroom is dark except for a soft light coming from my bedside lamp. Leo glances up from his book The Color of Science. “That’s three times you’ve been knocked out in as many days. It’s common knowledge the brain can only handle so many concussions. You need to slow down, or at least get a new game plan before you end up with only half your brain functioning.”

The clock reads 5:00 a.m. My heart is pounding in my chest and my breathing grunts past my throat. Something weird is going on. “Were you just reading out loud?”

He smiles and places the book on the bedside table. “Your grandpa is one tough old man.”

My fists slowly drop, and I finger my jaw. I have to agree. The place is tender. Probably bruised. “What’re you doing here?”

“Babysitting while they ‘figure things out.’ I’m responsible. Everyone knows that. You snore, by the way.”

“They don’t trust me?”

He stands and shrugs his shoulders. “Nope.”

“Smart.” I take a good long look at him. Nothing odd about his appearance. His hair is as messy as it’s always been, but something about him is different. I can’t place it.

He cracks his knuckles, a motion that’s awkward. Does he feel the weird tension in the room, too? “Bro, are you going to be a problem?” he asks.

So that’s it. He thinks I’m going to bolt. I am as soon as I can figure out a way to safely, and quietly, tie him up.

I echo his shrug and step forward. “No problem. Not if you get out of my way.”

He takes a step forward. “I can’t let you go.”

I step forward again, nudging at his space; my torso flexes, ready. He may be taller, but I win the muscle contest...and the weird power thing. “You don’t have a choice.”

“At least not by yourself. If you’re going, I’m going.”

Um, okay, huh? All my aggression suddenly dies out. “You want to come along? Why?”

“Because. I’ve got your back.”

Prickles of “been here, done this” race along my skin. “What?”

Leo slaps my shoulder good-naturedly. “I know I freaked when that thing showed up. Two monsters in close succession. That’s trippy. But I won’t anymore. Besides, I’ve been to Teag. I know what to expect. And you need me.”

Ah, hell no. He’s not going all best buddy on me now, is he? I like him, but he’s done enough. I shrug out of his hand. “Don’t take this wrong, but you’re a liability. You’re breakable. You’ve got no defenses whatsoever. You’re a dead man walking in that place. It’s only a matter of time.”

“I see where you’re coming from. Fair enough. I would’ve agreed with you yesterday, but now…” A smile splits his lips, flashing a wide, neat swath of laser-white teeth.

A something-is-definitely-wrong-with-this-picture feeling skitters up my back. “What’s changed?”

“Bodog’s waiting for you by the wall. I’ll meet you on the other side.”

With that, Leo disappears. Not a normal, walk to the door and leave kind of disappear, but a seriously abnormal one-second-you’re-there-and-the-next-you’re-not kind of wizardly disappearance.

I twist around, eying the bareness that is now my room in search of the tall, lanky dude. “Leo?”

No answer. Am I still dreaming? There’s the scent of bubble gum in the air. Leo wasn’t chewing bubble gum. I pinch my skin. A twinge of pain answers. Nope. I’m awake.

I’m totally freaked now. Leo isn’t like me. He’s normal. A human. There is no way he should be able to do that. I’m pretty sure I can’t do that. “Leo? Leo?”

I take stock of what I have on hand. Someone, probably Grandpa, stashed my sword in my closet. I take it and strap it on. Too much weirdness is starting to happen again.

Once my sword is secure, I go to the window. Fireflies swim in the air. One bumps into the windowpane and a small face reveals the truth. Pux.

Did Leo know they were out here? No way would he willingly go outside if he saw them.

I grab the sides of the windowsill and place my forehead against the cool glass, rolling my head back and forth, thinking. How did he just disappear? It’s blowing my mind.

He said he’d meet me in Teag. First the dream about Jason. Then Kera’s gone, and now Leo vanishes like a snow cone on a hot day. Someone’s gone to a lot of trouble to make sure I’d want to return to the first realm. “Okay, you win. Whoever you are, I’m coming.”

A dozen pux now hover outside at eye level. One turns and moons me. The others bend over laughing. Disrespectful little jerks. I’d be more than happy to smoosh them like the glorified bugs they are.

One lands on the sill and tries to open the window. I flick the glass and startle him off. I’ve got to leave, but I can’t, not with the pux waiting for a chance to play dirty. Grandma will have a fit if they tear through her house.

Oregon being Oregon, dark clouds have gathered and rain is imminent. An idea forms.

With a quick snap, I detach my pillow from its case and throw open the window. The pux scatter, twinkling like little fallen stars, alluringly innocent for those who don’t know better. I vault outside and push the window down tight so the little devils can’t get in. The buzz of their swarming softens as they hover, waiting to see what I do. Waiting for a chance to attack.

I’m not into waiting. I call on the energy stored in the heavy clouds overhead, and a sliver of lightning zips down and pops a pux. A sharp squeal, and steam rises from its little body before it drops to the ground like a rock.

Oops. I think I might have hit it a little too hard.

Oh well. Live and learn. Bending, I pick it up, see it twitch, hear it moan. It’s alive.

I drop it into the pillowcase and straighten. Cocking my right eyebrow, I throw the rest of the evil fireflies a wicked smile à la Jack Nicholson in The Shining. “That’s right, you little stinkbugs. I’m playing for keeps now. No joke.”

Panic infects the group. Their wings begin to buzz. I call on more lightning, spreading it into a network of power that stuns—instead of crispifies—dozens at a time. I walk forward, scooping them up as I do and dropping them into the pillowcase.

The process takes less than four minutes. After the last one is zapped and stowed away, I tie the pillowcase shut, sling it over my shoulder and head for the woods to find Bodog. If he knows where Kera is, then I’ll be his best friend forever.

The trees expand as my world shifts, like it always does when I enter the woods. Nature nourishes me almost as much as food. Before I knew who and what I was, I lived a half life, unsure of my place, until Kera showed me my true self.

As I go deeper into the woods, my legs stretch, making me faster than any human. Bushes and trees bend out of my way and snap back into place once I pass. The gateway to the first realm lies a couple yards ahead…and then I trip—seriously face-plant it in the ground. The bag full of pux flies out of my hands and snags on a far branch. Their buzz grows. The bag splits and they spill out like drunken ants.

My mind clouds. A queasy sensation has me feeling green. Rolling onto my back, I wrap my arms around my stomach and squint up through the trees. What hit me?

Tilting my head, I see the iron sculptures poking here and there among the trees. Groaning, I dig my heels into the earth and slowly inch myself back the way I came.

I’m an idiot! How could I forget Grandma clustering her iron sculptures at the main entrance between the two realms to keep the firsts out? The iron’s poison is ripping me a nasty headache and leaching all my power.

As I painfully scoot across the forest floor, a face materializes over me. Bodog prods me with a long stick. A staff of sorts. “Why lie here? We must go.”

“I-I can’t. I-iron.” I can barely get the words out I’m so weak.

His face scrunches as if he smells something sour and his skin darkens to a tree-trunk brown before he melts into the dark recesses of the forest. Great. He’s going to leave me here to slowly die. I close my eyes. But then what can he really do? He’s too small to move the heavy iron, or even me.

I can’t die now. Kera needs me. But no matter how much I want to live, the effort to move is too much.

I hear Bodog whining in the distance like a scared puppy. That’s not good.

As I lie fighting the pain that’s eating at my body, a shadow falls over my face. I crack open my eyes and see Wyatt. He squats beside me and tsks his tongue. “Once again, you look like crap-encrusted gum on the bottom of my shoe.”

“Statues. Get me…away.”

“I get art is all about personal taste, but aren’t you acting a little overdramatic about it?” I moan, and he grabs my arm and pulls me up and over his shoulder. When he puts me down, he dumps me near a clump of bushes. I spy Bodog’s pinched and suspicious face before the little guy hunkers into the shadows.

I focus my attention on each breath and say to Wyatt, “Thanks for—”

“Saving your ass, again? Don’t mention it.” Wyatt bends, propping his hands on his knees. “Seriously,” he says, giving me a once-over, “you look like death. Is there something I need to know?”

The leaves rustle, and Bodog’s thin, wavery voice says, “Iron burns. Kills his kind.”

Wyatt smirks at the bushes, then slumps to the ground beside me. “Then you’re lucky I happened along.”

A loud harrumph sounds from the bushes. “Bodog needs no help helping.”

Wyatt leans close. “I thought a dog had attacked you. I didn’t know it was your creepy little friend. He’s not your normal everyday dwarf, is he?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on.” He lowers his voice for my ears only. “You’ve got eyes. He’s beyond only-Mama-can-love-me ugly.”

I don’t know why, it’s not like I haven’t thought the same thing, but I take offense at Wyatt calling Bodog ugly. “He can’t help the way he looks. He’s different, shy at first, but he’s okay.” I notice a flashlight in Wyatt’s hand. “What are you doing out here so early?”

“Looking for Reece. I’ve tried everywhere. It’s like he disappeared into thin air.”

A mental picture of Leo flashes in my head. “Yeah, people tend to do that around here.”

“I’m beginning to wonder if one of your monster friends ate him.” The intensity in his face reveals he’s really worried.

“No…”

Why didn’t I think of that? Then again, each one was very specific as to whom it went after. Conviction leaks into my words this time. “No, dude. Your brother will show.”

He relaxes a bit. I tell him to point the flashlight into the bushes behind me, and we see a pair of big eyes blink. “Come on out, Bodog. Wyatt’s not going to hurt you. I promise.”

Grumbling floats toward me as Bodog scrounges in the underbrush. I’m not sure if he’s heard me or not. I’m about to call him again when a triumphant cry sounds, and the little man steps free of the bushes, holding a lizard between his thick fingers. He plops down beside us. Wyatt stiffens, unimpressed with Bodog’s crackly brown skin, googly eyes, and big ears, not to mention the drool slipping out of the corner of his mouth as he stares at his catch. It’s not a pretty sight.

One bite of Bodog’s jagged teeth, and the lizard’s head is gone. Three more bites see the remaining body parts eaten. Putting his hands to his face, he snuffles and snorts as he enthusiastically licks the lizard blood clean.

Wyatt grimaces. “Does he have to do that?”

I swallow with difficulty and say, “You get used to it.”

“Yeah…I don’t think so.”

Bodog springs to his feet with the help of his stick and nudges me with the end. “Up, up, up. No time to waste.” He delivers Wyatt’s chest a sharp poke and hops out of reach. “Quickly, quickly.”

“Okay, okay.” Wyatt stands up. “I’m not the fainting type. He is.”

The guy is so not my friend right now. Tugging on my shirt, Bodog pulls me up after him. I stumble, light-headedness making my world reel for a second before I shake off the last effects of the iron.

“Where are we going?” Wyatt asks.

“Teag,” Bodog says.

“Wyatt’s not going to Teag.” It would be a huge mistake taking him there.

Bodog blinks at me. “He wants answers.”

“Are you telling me Reece is in Teag?” I put my hands on my head to keep my thoughts from spinning. “Not good.”

Wyatt’s glance bounces between Bodog and me. “If my brother’s there, then that’s where I’m going.”

“You don’t know what you’re getting into.” It’s Leo and Jason all over again. Only this time, I don’t know what I’ll find waiting for me on the other side.

“By the look on your face and the sword you’re carrying—’cause you know, that’s totally normal—I’m walking into trouble.” He flashes a big grin. “I’m down with that.”

Not surprising.

Bodog grunts his approval and takes off. He moves fast, weaving in and out through the trees and disappearing and reappearing like a blinking light in the midst of the dark forest as we follow. I tell Wyatt what I can about where we’re going, warn him that he could die. The more warnings I give, the more determined he is to come along. That same curious glint he had when he wanted to see me light up is in his eyes.

Ten minutes later, we’re at a section of the barrier that corresponds with the village. It flickers weakly. Whatever magic kept it hidden before has deteriorated, showing the wall’s broad expanse and the ooze of mist. We stand facing the crackling barrier. Bodog steps forward and pushes his hands through the magic, ripping a hole between the first and human realms like a surgeon cracking open his patient’s ribs to see the moist lungs. I’m speechless. Thick mist rolls out, wraps around Bodog and pulls at his small body. Glancing over his shoulder, he nods, and as he disappears, I hear his gravelly voice call, “They wait for us. Hurry.”

Wyatt rakes his fingertips along the wall, his steps slowing as he comes to a point where his hand easily slips through. He pulls his hand free, clutching a fist full of mist. It slowly dissolves. “I’ll be damned,” he whispers more to himself than to me. Without any qualms, he rips open a section of the wall in front of him and dives into the mist. I guess once you’ve seen a guy self-combust, nothing fazes you.

It’s me who stands there alone, unable to believe what I’m seeing. The ease with which they break through the wall...it’s chilling. A shiver of alarm spikes the hair on the back of my neck. Anything, great or small, could pass between the realms. And Bodog thinks I can fix this, and return his world to the way it was?

Yeah, right. He’s a delusional, mythological creature on a magic mushroom high.

I can’t fix this. The problem is too big for one person. I’ll be lucky if I find Kera. Have a life. Live free. I know the truth. I’m walking back into disaster. It’s just waiting to happen.

Even knowing that, I can’t turn back. I slide my hand into the weakening fabric of the wall and a band of wetness spills out. Thick, misty fingers twirl around my arm. The air grows heavy. A crushing weight slams my chest. I’m pulled through vapor and spill out on the other side into Kera’s village and right next to Bodog…who’s got a sword point tucked beneath his quivering chin.

I hate it when I’m right.

“Dylan, look out!” I hear Leo shout.

The sword swipes my way, and I throw myself to the ground, landing on my side. The wet grit of the alley clings to my hands; the musty smell of rot invades my head. I jump to my feet and face the man who’s clearly out to kill us.

For a second, it’s hard for me to understand what I’m seeing. Leo hovers behind Lucinda, her long white hair crackling with energy and her eyes sparkling with that strange, crazy-chick light that tells me she’s about to go supernova on the guy’s ass. All around us, the air is on fire. The cobbled streets are strewn with bloody bodies. A thick smoke is everywhere, curling up, around, and down like I’ve never seen smoke act. People are screaming. Running. Fighting. And the guy who’s got Bodog cornered holds his sword in a shaking hand, his head whipping left and right like a pendulum. Definitely more spooked than menacing.

The sword I had strapped on before I left the house weighs heavily between my shoulder blades, but instead of reaching for it, I hold up my hands nonthreateningly. “Hey, buddy. We’re not here for a fight. You wanna put that—”

With a bang, the back door to the building on our left crashes open, and Wyatt bursts into the alleyway, knocking the man with the sword down. Wyatt straightens, disoriented, his face the color of week-old bread left in the cabinet—pinched, green, and slightly fuzzy.

When the guy he knocked down starts to stand, Wyatt punches him in the face, this time knocking him out. It’s a sweet hit, which makes me think I might want the guy along after all. I watch him turn, stumble to the head of the alleyway, and throw up.

Then again…maybe not.

“Stop hovering, Cin,” Leo says as he pushes past Lucinda. “I can take care of myself.” He checks the guy on the ground, and then looks up at me. “He’s out. I swear, I would never have told you to come here if I knew about all this.”

“You freakin’ disappeared. What was that all about?” I squat beside Leo and pick through the unconscious soldier’s weapons—a sword, a dagger, and oddly enough, brass knuckles.

Lucinda squats and blows a huge pink bubble with her gum. The scent is the same strong sweet smell that lingered right after Leo disappeared. “You were with Leo in my room. It was you who made him disappear.”

She smiles, kisses Leo possessively on the neck, and whispers in his ear before wandering toward the head of the alley. Aloof as a cat.

“Thank God, it was her. I thought…well, it doesn’t matter.” I like Leo the way he is. “What’s going on?”

“Not sure. We arrived, and then ten minutes later, all hell broke loose.”

We both stand, and I wave to Bodog, who’s muttering to his stick about black souls, to follow.

When we reach Wyatt, he’s leaning against the brick building, peering around the corner at the chaos spilling into the streets. His face isn’t as pinched-looking as it was, or as green, but he’s still not 100 percent. He rubs his eyelids and blinks rapidly. “Crazy ride into this place, though I can’t say I like the after-kick at the end.”

I cough against the swirling smoke cloaking the town. “Sorry. I should’ve warned you. You’ll feel better in a few minutes.”

I offer him the weapons I took from the guy he knocked out. He grabs the brass knuckles, slips them on, and palms the dagger, but refuses the sword. “No gun?”

“They have better ways to kill you here.”

“Do you mean faster or more painful?”

“Take your pick.”

Wyatt scouts the area, his gaze roving from building to building, watching what I can’t quite understand. The people seem to be fighting the heavy smoke and losing. The crowd is heading for the woods; men and women are corralling their families. Everyone is leaving their homes and everything they possess behind.

A man on a horse rushes by, yet in the next second, the horse and man are flying in the air. The horse screams as it hits the ground. It jerks upright, eyes rolling crazily, and dashes off. The man is nowhere in sight, and then he hits the ground, a bloody mass of flesh and bones. We all involuntarily step back.

From out of the smoke and fire, a soldier wearing a ripped and dirty uniform, and with blood congealing on his face, appears with a small band of men. It’s Granel, Navar’s lieutenant, a man I thought I’d never see again after I killed Navar.

When he sees me, his sword snaps in my direction at the same time I swing mine toward him. “Come to watch the slaughter?” he sneers.

He’s got to be kidding. With all the killing he’s done, he deserves whatever happens to him, but I don’t have anything against these people.

A sharp scream has us all looking around. In the middle of the street, a boy a few years younger than me dangles in the air, suspended by one of the inky streaks. Before I can take a step forward, a ball of fire spits out, engulfing the boy’s body. He’s then tossed away, burning and shuddering along the ground like a black snake firework.

My skin flickers with heat at the sight.

“We’re surrounded, and there’s no fighting them.” Granel’s voice shakes with anger and a touch of awe.

“We must leave,” Lucinda says, her body tense, her hands clutching Leo’s arm. “We cannot win this fight. This magic is too powerful.”

My stomach twists, knowing she’s right. I give Leo the sword Wyatt didn’t want. “I’ll divert them. Get everyone out of here.”

Without waiting, I rush forward, ignoring Bodog’s calls for me to come back. I can’t. Someone has to stop these things. The black streak wavers in front of me, its shadow of a face taunting me the closer I get. I speed up, jump, and in midleap, I draw my sword. The blade bursts into flame. I bring the sharp edge down with all my might and slash through the face.

I land, swoop around, and continue to cut and sever the streak to ribbons. When I’m done, there isn’t a trace of the murdering darkness, only wisps of inky shadows dispersing along the ground.

I draw near the boy, but he’s beyond saving. To be honest, destroying the black streak wasn’t nearly as hard as killing the lake serpents, so why was Granel running scared? Why let that thing kill a defenseless kid?

Though I told them to leave, no one did. I turn to the group, power humming through my veins. Their obvious horror dulls my anger. Why are they looking at me that way? No, not at me. I turn around in time to see the wisps along the ground merge back into the inky streak. It opens its mouth and a sound like cracking glass splits the air, knocking me off my feet, splitting the cobblestones, and shattering nearby windows.

Lucinda shouts at everyone to run, and then she’s suddenly by my side, dragging me up and away. We’re surrounded, around us and above us. The inkiness is so dark, I lose my bearings. Only the pressure of Lucinda’s back to mine keeps me grounded. The darkness closes down on us, squeezing us to our knees.

With a growl, Lucinda turns, sweeps her arms around me, and we instantly transport to a position behind my friends and ahead of Granel and his men. I blink at the sudden brightness, and with Lucinda’s help, climb to my feet. We run like a herd of deer being chased by wolves. The forest is a few hundred yards ahead of us. The black streaks follow, striking at Granel and his men, licking strips of flesh from their bones.

An explosion goes off to our right, and I see the inky slashes whirl away. “I have an idea,” I yell, though what I have planned is potentially dangerous.

Lucinda doesn’t question me. She lets go and races ahead toward Leo. That’s the good thing about her. She doesn’t care what I do. Her main concern is Leo. She knows that helping me pleases him. But when it comes down to me or Leo, she’ll pick him every time. In reality, she couldn’t care less if I live or die. It gives me freedom to do what I have to do.

I whirl around and motion the soldiers past me. As the streaks get closer, they converge into a massive, writhing black entity. I call on my powers, sucking them into my body in a violent wave that has me lighting up like a storm beacon. When the enemy is nearly on me, my skin tightens like a rubber band being stretched, and I send out my power in a forward pulse that slams into the darkness like a punch from a heavyweight boxer.

The inky blackness reels back, shuddering from the impact. I don’t let up. Pulse after pulse slams the area, forcing the darkness back. My body slows, like I’ve lead in my veins, and I send out one last pulse. When the dust settles, the dark streaks are gone and the streets lay in quiet disorder. Those still alive are quiet, suffering from the shock of the attack, too scared to move.

The ground beneath my feet sizzles, charred and smoking. My vision is tight, like I’m staring through a tunnel. I fight for control as my chest expands with each deep breath. It actually worked?

It takes a moment before the people begin to slink back into town to find friends and loved ones. There’s a nudge to my back and a hand to my shoulder. Wyatt stands beside me, staring at the destruction. “What the hell just happened?”

“That,” Granel says, slamming his sword into its sheath as he comes alongside us, “was the blackest of magic. Dark souls. Someone released them.”

“Dark souls?” Wyatt repeats. He drops his hand from my shoulder, an unsure smile tugging his lips. “Like bad-tempered ghosts?” I can tell he’d like to shrug the notion off, but it’s got him spooked.

“More like spirits called from the abyss,” Granel corrects.

“That’s nice and creepy.” Wyatt glances my way. “Looks like you’ve got yourself one tired, cranky whore of a problem.”

Like I need him to state the obvious? From what Kera’s told me about the firsts, messing with dark magic goes against their beliefs. “Who did it?” I ask Granel.

“How would I know? But whoever it is has a lot of power and then some.”

I’m not buying his innocent act and face him. “You were in the middle of the last killing spree. Seems logical you’d be in on this one.” I know I’ve hit a nerve when the muscles in his jaw jump and the hand resting on his sword hilt tightens.

“I have made my fair share of mistakes, but these are firsts. I have never intentionally killed my own kind.”

“That’s right.” My lip curls as I turn away from him, daring him to attack me. “You only intentionally kill my kind.”

“What?” Wyatt looks from me to Granel. “You tried to kill Dylan?”

I hike up my shirtsleeve and show Wyatt the brand on my arm. “Remember seeing this? It’s the mark of death, and if it were up to him,” I nod toward Granel, “my body would be nailed head and heel to the post in the middle of town feeding the crows.”

Granel scrubs his whiskered cheek and sighs. “I have no excuses to offer. All I ever wanted was to protect those whom I believed to be in danger. I can only ask that my former actions not contaminate your thoughts toward these people. What you can do—what I just saw you do—we need your help.”

I cover the brand with a jerk. “I’m here for Kera.”

“Kera is here? In Teag?” A spark of interest enters his eyes. “Does anyone else know?”

I can actually see his mind flipping through the possibilities of her being here. And he wonders why I don’t trust him? “She was kidnapped.”

He settles his face into a mask of sympathy. “I am sorry to hear that. You do know I have many contacts throughout Teag.”

Granel offering to help me—one of the tainted? Warning bells go off in my head. “Who’s pulling your strings now?”

His lips thin. “No one.”

“That’s not really your style, is it?”

“My style?” he asks after a moment’s pause.

“Thinking for yourself.” I don’t bother waiting to hear his reply, I walk away. My knees buckle and my footing does a strange little jig. I’ve used too much energy and I haven’t had time to recharge.

Wyatt comes alongside me and catches my elbow as I teeter. “He won’t be a problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“My pinky is thicker than that idiot’s spine.”

“Don’t be so sure,” I say. “There’s nothing he won’t do to get what he wants. Working for someone else or on his own, he’s a huge problem.”

We catch up to Leo, who’s directing people like a faithful herding dog making sure his sheep are going in the right direction.

I call him over, and when he gets close, Wyatt’s impatience gets the best of him. “So we have an evil someone with sleazy minions and a populace that’s completely at their mercy. Sounds like your run-of-the-mill dictatorship that needs to be toppled, which, lucky for you, is my specialty.”

“I don’t know, bro.” The wind pushes a thick link of Leo’s dark hair into his eyes and he pushes it away. “So far all you’ve done is get Dylan in trouble. Need I remind you of the barn incident?”

Wyatt groans. “One miscalculation. Seriously, how was I supposed to know he’d light up like that?” He points to me. “Did you know?”

“Well, I—”

“I knocked out that guy with the sword and I wasn’t even on top of my game.” A mixture of desperation and hope colors his voice. “You need me.”

Seriously? He wants to stay so badly he’s begging? I don’t get it, so I ask. “Why do you want to stay here?”

“You’re kidding, right? It’s like, whiskey wild here. I might regret the hangover, but not the party. I promise, you’ll be glad I’m around.”

He’s like Jason, seeing the fun of the fight, but not the pain. The scary thing is, I need him. He has the tactical experience I don’t.

“You can’t think human,” I warn him. “There’s nothing typical about this place or any of these people.”

He nods. “Brief me on the particulars.”

My head has stopped spinning, but a dull ache has replaced it. I rub the heel of my hand against my forehead. “There’s not much to tell.” That’s a lie. There’s too much to tell and no time. “Everyone’s crazy. And to top it off, my dad’s their king.”

Wyatt laughs. “You’re a prince?”

“The heir,” Leo tells him with a wry curl of his lips. “It freaks me out, too.”

“Go on,” Wyatt stands with his feet apart and hands on his hips. Very Patton-esque of him.

There’s too much info. My mind refuses to land on any details, so I go for a generic overview, hoping he’ll catch on as we go. “This place is knee-deep in magic no one wants to control. Faldon says I should take the throne, but the people don’t want me.”

“Faldon?” Wyatt lifts his right eyebrow.

Leo leans close. “Wicked old dude who tried to kill him. He was Dylan’s grandfather.”

“Was?”

“Dylan took care of him…permanently.”

Wyatt sucks in a breath, his eyes harboring a bit more respect for me. “Nasty.”

“Something is going on with Baun,” I say, ignoring them as I think aloud, “but I just don’t know what yet.”

“Baun?” Wyatt asks.

“Their king and Dylan’s whacked-out dad. He’s imprisoned by the pux,” Leo adds.

“Pux?” Wyatt rubs the back of his neck. “You guys have mentioned them before, right?”

Leo holds up a hand and shakes his head. “Don’t ask.”

“And,” I continue, “I think Bodog agrees with the general idea of me saving Teag. I get what he means when he says this is all my fault, but it’s still crazy.”

“So let me get this straight.” Wyatt points toward the village. “You caused all this?”

“In a way.” That doesn’t sound right. “I killed Navar, who was controlling the people—”

“Killing that dude was completely unavoidable, and a good thing,” Leo says.

Nice of him to put a positive spin on that.

“But when he died, it left a hole. There’s no one to take over…” I look at the village, “…except it’s obvious someone is trying to take over.”

“So you need to find out who that is and why?”

“No.” I stare at Wyatt’s surprised face. He doesn’t get it. How could he? He wasn’t here. He didn’t see what they put me through. “I need to find Kera. That’s why I’m here.”

“Am I missing something? What you did with those things, that was amazing. I can see why that guy wants you to help.”

“Sure, they want me now, but I wasn’t invited back. They don’t really want me here. They’re desperate. When it’s all over, trust me, they’ll turn on me, and I’ll be dead within a week.”

I know it sounds harsh, but it’s the truth. I peer through the smoke and patches of fire Granel’s men have yet to put out. “Where’s Bodog?”

“Gone,” Leo says.

I’m not surprised. He’s a shadow of the man he used to be. “Where’s Lucinda?”

I spy the woman in question a dozen yards away, lounging on the ground as she peels an orange. It’s such a simple, ordinary activity, but she looks dead sexy doing it. Her long, white hair fans out over the grass like a thick blanket. The fitted black dress she’s wearing makes the white of her hair stand out like a beacon. I have to hand it to her, she’s perfected the bored expression on her face as she watches the people file past.

I’m about to call Lucinda over when a little girl wanders close—a little too close—and stops. Lucinda stiffens. A low growl comes from her throat. The little girl doesn’t seem to notice the warning; completely captivated by the stretch of Lucinda’s impossibly long, sleek hair. The girl’s hand slowly reaches out toward the shining mass.

Leo takes a step forward, a look of horror on his face. “Oh God, she’s not going to pet her, is she? That’s not a good idea.” Leo takes off and reaches the girl, jerking her away from Lucinda just as the woman springs forward, all claws and gleaming white teeth. Leo yells something to the extent of “bad kitty,” and while he gently pushes the little girl on her way, Lucinda yanks her hair out of reach with a hiss and glares after the little girl.

“Whoa!” Wyatt says. “What’s with the blond chick?”

“She’s Leo’s...special friend.” How do you explain Lucinda? She’s one of a kind.

“How’d he bag that kind of friend?” He asks, clearly confused. Leo isn’t a guy you’d peg as a chick magnet. Not that he’s ugly; he’s sort of awkward in that lanky, disjointed way loads of tall guys are before they hit twenty-five.

“I think it’s more of a cat and mouse kind of relationship. Take my advice; you don’t want to get too close to her.”

Wyatt starts to move their way, a predatory glint in his eye. “I’m pretty sure I do.”

I stop him. “Seriously, you don’t.”

And just as I say that, Lucinda morphs into cat form and jumps into Leo’s arms, rubbing her fluffy triangular-shaped head beneath his chin and playfully nibbling at his ears. Leo sighs and tucks her beneath his arm, petting her between her ears and down her chest.

There’s a heavy silence in the air, one born of disbelief. I’ve gotten so used to the oddities of Teag, I forget how everything must seem to someone not used to magic. Wyatt blinks a few times, and the hair on his arms prickles when Leo approaches.

Without a word, Wyatt steps back, his eyes centered on Lucinda and her sleek, white furry body. “That’s freaky, dude, and not in a good way.”

Leo covers Lucinda’s ears. “Be careful. She’s sensitive.”

“I don’t care. Keep her away from me.”

But the damage is already done. The fur on her back spikes and she hisses at Wyatt before leaping to the ground. “Don’t be that way,” Leo calls. With a twitch of her tail, she stalks off. “I’m not coming after you,” he threatens as she disappears behind a building.

Leo sighs and turns back to us. “I’m going to have to go after her.” He faces me. “You know how worked up she gets when she’s in a mood. There’s no telling what she’ll do.”

Alarms go off in my head. “I thought you weren’t interested in her?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but our arrangement is of a temporary nature. We’re testing the waters.”

I’ve never seen a cat who liked water, but I keep that to myself.

“Where are you going to be?” he asks.

“Nothing’s changed for me. It’s all about finding Kera.”

“But we don’t know where she is.”

“I think Bodog has an idea—that’s why he brought me here. I’m going to go find him.”

Irritation sharpens Leo’s relaxed stance. “Really?” At my nod, he mutters, “Fine. Let me tell Cin and—”

“You can’t come along. If Bodog’s scared, which I know he is, he’ll barely trust me.”

Wyatt claps his hands, bringing our attention to him. “Sounds like you’ve got a plan.” He nods toward Granel and his men. “I’ve got one, too. While you’re gone, I think I’ll have a talk with your not-so-friendly friend about what they’re planning to do if those things come back. And if they like me, which let’s face it, everyone does, maybe they’ll let loose a few of their trade secrets.”

As Wyatt heads toward the soldiers, Leo’s deep voice calls after him. “Am I the only one with serious reservations about Dylan wandering the woods alone?”

Wyatt spins around and shrugs. “He’s more equipped to deal with what’s out there than we are.”

“So you’re just going to let him go? Alone?”

Wyatt keeps walking.

“You’re an ass.”

Wyatt flips him off without missing a step and Leo turns, pinning me with a worried frown. “People are dead. Butchered outside their own homes. It’s not safe here anymore.”

I snort. He’s got to be kidding. “When was it ever safe?”

With Friends Like These

Leo has my back…and I appreciate the fact that Leo has my back, but there are some things a guy has to do on his own. Finding Bodog is one of them. He knows where Kera is, but the little guy is skittish even on his best days. For some reason, he’s decided to trust me. I can’t drag along an entourage just because there are a few uprisings going on.

Wyatt’s right. I can handle whatever magic pops up. They can’t.

But Leo won’t let it go. As we make our way through town, he starts in on me. “You know what you have? A classic case of zombie magic.”

I step around a broken cart. “I get the apocalyptic destruction of a village by unknown beings may lead someone to question their belief system, but,” I shake my head and glance his way, “there’s no such thing as zombie magic.” At least I’m pretty sure there isn’t.

His eyes grow big. “There must be, ’cause it’s eaten all your brains since you started this magical mystery trip.”

It’s hard not to laugh when Leo says stuff like that. We jig around a man who’s desperately trying to calm a horse, and I nearly get kicked in the head for wandering too close. “I’ll be careful.”

“Careful. Riiiight.” His voice deepens with doubt. “That’s not exactly a word most people associate with you, bro. Where are you going to start looking for him? Do you even know? There’s a lot of acreage out there to cover, and that’s assuming he’s found a little nest to hide in. You could be out there for days. These people need you here. Now.”

I get what he’s saying. The air is thick with the crumblings of the battle. It’s sad, really. Kera’s town had been a place like none other. Lively, clean, and picturesque. Even now, some of the firsts are using their magic to repair the buildings; some have pulled out tables and sit around sipping tea like nothing odd has happened. Others wander aimlessly as if the small amount of magic they have left is the only thing keeping them upright. It’s the mark of denial, of hopelessness, of sheer terror in the face of an unknown future.

“Kera needs me more. I can feel her, Leo. It’s like we’re attached. I can’t close my eyes without hearing her calling me, but it’s getting fainter. I need to find her. Now.” I hop over a deep trench in the middle of the road. “Besides, the best way I can help everyone is by finding Kera.”

“How is finding her going to help anyone but you?” Leo jumps over the trench, easily landing next to me. His serious gaze searches my face. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t find her. You should, but you’re doing this for yourself. Don’t act like Navar. He said what everyone wanted to hear when his real motives were all about him.”

I grab Leo by his shirtfront and jerk him close. “Navar and I are nothing alike.”

Leo’s gaze shifts to my suddenly glowing brand. Never again will I be able to deny I’m angry, not when it glows silver bright on my arm. Leo nods, causing his hair to fall into his eyes. “You’re right. Sorry.”

My gaze locks with Leo’s for a second longer before I let go with a tiny push that has him stumbling backward a few steps. I hurry forward, disturbed by what he’s said.

I am putting Kera first because her need is greater than everyone else’s.

We come to the edge of town. Beyond the fields, the forest stretches out dark and foreboding. A menacing cloud seems to have settled over Teag, but still, I prefer it to the false light that once pervaded the place.

That strange overconfidence I felt when I’d first stepped into Teag washes over me. “You want to know my plans? I’m going into the woods to find one of the tunnels. It’s where Bodog feels safest.”

“You don’t have to go. He’ll come back. He always does.”

“Not in time and not here. These people hate him about as much as they hate me. They imprisoned him.” I take a deep breath. Getting worked up isn’t helping. “I have to go to him. Make him feel safe enough to take me to Kera, or at least point me in the right direction.” Tension causes the muscle in my cheek to jump and I eye my friend. “You’ve got a choice, Leo. You’re either on my side or you’re not.”

Leo’s back snaps military straight. “That’s messed up. I’m here, aren’t I? Even after what happened to Pop. See anyone else crazy enough to follow you?” He pauses for a split second and then says in a hard but honest voice. “You don’t because I’m your only friend.”

We face the forest; me stiff, Leo hurt.

I close my eyes and take a deep, calming breath. I’ve never had a good friend. Leo’s constant faith in me makes me nervous. I’m waiting for him to bail, but that’s no excuse for how I’m treating him.

“Sorry.” It’s a word that sticks in my throat. I rarely say it, and never to another dude.

“Damn right you’re sorry. You’re lucky I’m the forgiving type.”

I put out my hand. “Thanks.”

He takes it and we shake. The air is suddenly lighter. The future not so dark. “I’m not good at this,” I try to explain.

“Good at what?”

“Saving the world. The choices I have to make. But I’m trying.”

Leo slaps my back in that way all dudes show their bros affection. “You’re okay.” Once again, he’s serious. “What do you want me to do?”

“Honestly?” At his nod, I tell him what worries me only because it can directly affect him, and I don’t want him getting hurt. “Find Lucinda and make her behave. We don’t need any more problems.”

“You don’t trust her, do you?”

I laugh, though there isn’t any humor to it. Only a weird kind of dread I’m not sure Leo understands. “Deep down, do you?”

“She can be high-strung…”

“Understatement,” I fire back.

“She’ll do what I tell her.” The quiet confidence he shows is so Leo and so misguided.

I press my lips together and try not to say anything, but he’s got to start seeing reality. “I know you like her, but she’s not human. We’re like catnip to her. Fun to play with for a little while, but in the end, all she’ll do is walk away when we need her the most.”

An optimist through and through, Leo just smiles and points at me, determination clearly on his face as he backs away. “I’ll find her and you’ll see. You’ll be glad Cin is on our side.”

“You’ve nicknamed her sin. That’s called a subconscious warning.”

He laughs and I watch him lope back into town, wishing I could have his carefree outlook on life. His promise rings in my ears as I cross the open fields and enter the forest. It’s not like I hate Lucinda. I can’t stop thinking about the first time I met the Lutine. She wasn’t remotely helpful and did more harm than good. On the plus side, she did give me my sword, and she retrieved it from the dungeons when I needed it the most. On the minus side, as soon as she believed Leo was safe, she left the battle without a backward glance. Because of that, people she could have saved died. How can Leo expect me to trust her after that?

Thankfully, Lucinda is nothing like Kera. No girl is. It’s only been a few hours since I last saw her, but it feels like forever. I have no idea where she is or how she’s doing. The only thing I know for sure is that she’s alive. I would feel it, deep in my gut, if she died. I know I would.

Tromping through the underbrush, searching for any sign that one of Bodog’s tunnel entrances is near, doesn’t lighten my mood. I feel like I’m wasting time. Why did he have to run off like that? Near a low-branched tree, I nudge a slightly protruding section with my foot. It gives. Finally, I’ve found one of his tunnel entrances. I start to dig around it, pulling at the grass, when a slight stirring catches my attention. Within the bushes I see a pair of eyes staring back at me. “Bodog?”

The little man nods and puts his finger to his mouth.

“What?”

He points in the opposite direction. Something has obviously spooked him.

When I straighten, a shiver runs down my spine. About fifty feet from where I stand, the form of a man merges with the shadows. The shape is familiar. Very familiar.

The guy moves. A shaft of light touches him. The stocky build. The spiked blond hair. A slight stubble clings to his square jaw.

“Jason?” I can barely get his name out.

There’s no dead-man tinge to his wide face. It’s strong, in that familiar head/neck/shoulder fusion so many wrestlers acquire, like the front end of a battering ram. He swaggers forward, and I clearly see the menacing frown he’s wearing. I’m having a hard time believing what I’m seeing, yet his aggressive manner registers, and I widen my stance.

Jason stops a few feet from me and looks me up and down, and his dark frown eerily transforms into a big grin, one that doesn’t meet his eyes. “Miss me, Dylan?”

“You’re alive?” I don’t know whether I’m happy or terrified by that fact. He was definitely dead the last time I saw him. How can he be alive?

A bitter laugh claws from his throat. “A lot you cared.”

One second his sword is neatly tucked in his scabbard, the next it rings clear and he’s moving…fast. Unnaturally fast.

I barely manage to dodge the sharp point. Once I do, I call vines from the ground and tangle his feet, which gives me time to back up and assess what’s happening.

Bodog squeals from the bushes, and I turn to see the pux swarm from the forest. He bats at the little imps with his stick as they chase him into the woods and away from me. I can’t help him. I’ve got bigger problems in the form of an angry bull who’s somehow managed to grow horns.

Jason slashes at the vines, and in no time, he’s free. His cold blue eyes land on me. “Whatever you’ve got, get it ready, because you’re going to need it all before I’m done with you.”

Okay, this is a serious case of misunderstanding. I don’t draw my sword. He’s my friend. We can talk this through before it comes down to hacking each other to pieces. I back up, my hands up, palms out. “I came back. I promised you I would.”

With a flick of his wrist, the sword he holds does a series of fancy twirls in the air, hissing as it spins. He stops it expertly.

Whoa. That’s not normal. The guy can throw a mean headlock or flip you to the mat like a pro, but rip the air with a sword? Something’s definitely different about Jason.

He glares around the blade, his face twisted with hate. “Do you know what it’s like to be dead one moment, then brought back to life only to find you’re buried alive?”

Before I can comment, he answers his own question in words that rumble hotly from his chest. “I’m claustrophobic. I couldn’t rip my way out of there. For seven days—seven days—I was trapped in a coffin you made. Why’d you bring me back just to leave me?”

“I-I’m—”

I try and wrap my head around what he’s saying. With one blast of energy, I killed everything within a mile, and at the same time, I Frankensteined him back to life? “Dude, I didn’t know. I swear. I thought you were dead.”

It’s like he doesn’t even hear me. He lunges, the sword arcing toward me. “If it weren’t for the pux, I’d still be there. Slowly rotting.”

I slip to the side and feel a stab. The tip of his blade nicks my shoulder. No way should he have been able to do that. I move too fast for humans to keep up—one of the perks of being a first—but Jason follows me move for move, driving me backward until I slam against a tree.

His sword swoops down and hovers against my throat. He laughs, and my stomach clinches.

“Draw your sword.”

“No.”

“You will or you’ll die right here, right now.”

My mind can’t wrap around what’s happening. Jason appears to have first abilities, but that’s…crazy. Like Leo, he’s human.

Someone has definitely been messing with my friends.

“What is wrong with you? We’re on the same side.”

“Do it, Dylan. Let’s see which of us has the right to be here.”

I can feel the burn of anger rise in me. “Do you hear yourself? You’ve turned into a bully just like your dad. You hated him for what he did to you.”

“He got results,” Jason sneers. “Maybe he’s not as stupid as everyone thinks.”

“I don’t think he’s stupid, I know he is, and so are you. Go home before you hurt yourself, Jason.”

He leans close, his eyes hard as steel. “I don’t get it. Why is anyone afraid of you?”

“I don’t know,” I rasp. “And I don’t care.”

“See, that’s your problem. You don’t think big enough. You don’t want to get messy. One thing my dad taught me is that to be the best, sometimes you’ve got to get dirty.”

That definitely doesn’t sound like I’m going to enjoy the next couple of minutes.

“Rumor has it, you die, I get stronger.” He pushes the blade until I feel it sting. A warm, thin trickle of blood runs down my neck. “Do you think that’s a fair trade?”

All I hear is me dying and that totally ticks me off. Jason is supposed to be my friend. What happened? My jaw tenses, and I can feel the power grow hot under my skin. “I saved you. Remember? You were dead, and I brought you back to life. It might not’ve been perfect, but I saved you.”

Jason’s lips thin against his teeth and he nods. “I appreciate it, dude. Really, I do. This isn’t personal. It’s what I have to do to get what I deserve. And I’m going to do what you’ve failed to do. I’m going to conquer both realms.”

“You know what? You deserve everything your dad ever did to you.” I shouldn’t have said it, but I’m angry and hurt he’s actually threatening to kill me, and I don’t stop there. “Mr. Tanner was right. You’re a psychopath.”

Jason’s lips split into a cold smile. “Then let’s get crazy.”

His muscles tense as he draws back to thrust the sword into my neck. Before I can command the tree to split so I can slip away, I feel someone grab my arm and then find myself across the clearing standing beside Lucinda and a stoic Leo. My friend’s eyes are wide and filled with horror as he watches Jason impale the tree with his sword.

They force me into a crouch, and Leo’s sweaty grip tangles in my T-shirt sleeve. “He’s alive? Shit!”

“I know! Doesn’t anyone stay dead in this place?” I still can’t believe he’s alive.

“What happened to him?”

From the rage spilling out of him, nothing good. “I happened to him. Somehow I messed up. I didn’t mean to raise him from the dead, but when I did, I didn’t do it right.”

“Damn it! Do you not watch TV? Movies? Video games? Give me one instance where raising someone from the dead ended well. You gotta fix this.”

“I’m open to suggestions.”

Together, we watch Jason jerk the blade free and spin around, swinging his sword from side to side, his face revealing his shock at my disappearance.

Jason’s shock slowly transforms into something far less pleasant. He lowers his sword and his skin mottles. The veins along his neck protrude. Throwing back his head, he lets loose an inhuman roar. Anger spills out of him in a hoarse, bitter cry that scares the forest quiet. He stomps around like a mad bull and yells, “I’m not quitting, Dylan. I have all the advantages. You’re history. It’s my turn to be the hero.”

“Cin,” Leo whispers. “Can you get us out of here?”

“All of us at once? No.”

It’s good to know Leo’s crazy girlfriend has limitations. I was beginning to wonder.

“Thanks for the save.” I shrug out of Leo’s grip. “Meet you back in town. I’ve still got to find Kera.”

“I don’t know…what about Mr. Bloodlust over there?” Leo nods toward Jason. “Shouldn’t we do something?”

“I don’t think anyone has anything to worry about. I seem to be the only one he wants to kill.” I slowly ease away.

“If he catches you off guard again, you’re in for a serious fight.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. Now that I know he’s around, I can handle him.” I study the girl hanging on to Leo’s arm. Personally, I believe Leo is in more danger than either of us. “Keep him safe,” I warn her.

She smiles that crazy-chick smile, the one that gives me the creeps, and sidles closer to Leo. The scent of bubble gum invades the space as she slowly blows a bubble until it pops. The next second, they’re gone.

Crazy chick.

Thanks to her, Jason now knows my general direction. I scurry out of there so quickly I scare a rabbit out of hiding. If Jason wants me, he’ll have to find me, and I don’t plan on making that easy for him.

I hear Jason thrashing the ground close behind me. He’s got speed, but I have brains. I double back, find Bodog’s trail, and start tracking him. Easy to do. He left a path of broken twigs and scuffed-up earth a blind man could follow. I do my best to cover his tracks, blowing leaves and debris over the area as I follow.

I feel jumpy in my skin. The first time I entered Teag—which seems like forever ago—a calmness engulfed me, like I’d finally found my home. I had a taste of it back at the village, but now, when I reach out with my senses, the air holds an uneasy vibe; tension warbles against my bones, almost as a warning. The perfection I’d admired has grown a few weeds. The magical brightness has definitely dulled.

The trail leads me to a thick copse of trees. I fight my way through the underbrush and find Bodog cowering into his clothes like a turtle retreating into its shell. I move deeper into the shadows, but he waves me still. “No room.”

There’s gobs of space all around him. “Bodog, did you know Jason was alive?”

He nods, clinging to his stick like it’s his lifeline.

“Shit. Thanks for the heads-up, dude. This is bad. We gotta go.” I squat and hold out my hand.

He turns away and mumbles, “Truth is truth. Fears must be faced. I will not abandon him. What next?”

I can’t wait for Bodog to pull it together. I open my hand and urge him out of his shelter. “I’m serious. We need to join Leo and Lucinda. Now. I got a bad feeling we’re going to need them.”

Bodog lifts his head and shushes me. “Quiet. Can’t hear.”

“Hear what?”

“The others.”

“What others?” I cock my head and listen, but it’s like listening for a feather dropping amid a flock of seagulls.

I slant a confused glance his way. Maybe he’s cracking under the pressure. I know I am. Right now I need the old Bodog.

As he continues his one-sided conversation, I notice he appears less edgy. Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe Jason being alive isn’t as bad as I think. Sure, he’s mad as hell, but wouldn’t I be, too, under the circumstances? I can’t afford to let his pissy mood distract me. I’m here for Kera.

Reaffirming my reason for being here calms me. I grip Bodog’s shoulder and give it a little shake. “Come on. I need you to concentrate. Where’s Kera? I know you know. You all but dragged me to Teag.”

His googly eyes soften, like he pities me. Really? He’s the one sitting in rags and cowering in a hole. Oh yeah, I forgot. I’m the one everyone’s pressuring to save the freaking world.

Maybe he’s right to pity me.

He grabs my hand, and a strange shift happens. The edges to this world blur, and I see things no one but Bodog sees. Ghostly faces and half-bodies crowd the tiny burrow, blinking at me like I’m the oddity and whispering to one another. Crouching nearest Bodog is a ghostly creature, small, spiny-backed and humanlike, but not human. Its four pudgy fingers slip down Bodog’s cheek in a caress that if real, would leave behind a trail of slime. It tilts its face toward me and where eyes should be are merely slits. Toad-like nostrils flare. Its mouth opens as if it’s gulping air, displaying a full set of pointy-sharp teeth. Turning back, it gets so close to Bodog, it looks as if it’s going to chew off the little man’s ear instead of whispering something into it.

“Bodog.” My call is soft but insistent. I want to know if what I’m seeing is real, but I can’t find the words. All questions stop midway up my throat.

He somehow knows what I can’t express. “Dead are never truly dead.”

No kidding? Jason is proof of that. And while I was hospitalized and in a coma, though technically not dead, my spirit roamed between the realms in my quest to save Kera from Navar.

If dead isn’t dead, then Navar and all his evil cohorts could still be walking around. How pissed off would he be knowing I’m alive and using his power? Panic prickles my skin. I jerk free, feeling exposed. The apparitions fade away, and I only see Bodog biting on his dirty nails like a failed guitarist.

I don’t have time for a meltdown. The longer I wait for Bodog to get it together, the more I risk losing Kera. I thrust my head into the hidey-hole, refusing to think about the ghost I’m poking through. “Sorry. Time’s up. You’ve got to come with me.”

He squeals as I haul him out by the scruff of his neck. One hand pries at my grip while the other brings the stick down across my head and shoulders. A kick to my knee, and I lose it. I shake him like a pit bull does a chew toy. Can dwarves get shaken baby syndrome? I don’t care. He’s a grown…er…I don’t know exactly what he is, and right now I don’t care.

“Stop it,” I hiss. “Do you want Jason and his new friends to find us?”

He snaps his jaws closed and hangs in my hands like a limp towel, his large eyes staring up at me like twin black holes.

I let him go but keep my hands on his thin shoulders, afraid he’ll bolt. “You convinced me to come back here, and now you’re fighting me at every turn and talking to dead things. What’s going on? It feels like everyone’s taken a left turn when they should’ve taken a right.”

His attention darts back to the base of the tree as if seeking guidance from his dead friends. I give him another shake and bring his gaze back to me. “I’m talking to you.”

“Things exist of which you know naught. Deadly things. Secrets. The way is dangerous.”

“All I want is to find Kera. I don’t care how dangerous it is.”

“Darkness swallows her.”

My mind flashes on the dark souls, how they surrounded me until I was in a lightless bubble. “Is it the dark souls who attacked the village? Do they have her?” I get a little queasy thinking about Kera being held against her will by those things.

“Danger lurks everywhere.”

“What’s new?” Bodog isn’t exactly telling me what I need to know, but he’s not saying the dark souls aren’t involved. I try a different tack. “Do your…” I nod to where I last saw his invisible friends, “…your friends know where she is?”

He looks behind him, and then back at me. “Tunnels cannot reach what isn’t there.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She couldn’t have just disappeared. My frustration climbs, and I massage the spot above my left temple.

“To cross is to accept death.”

Is he trying to tell me Kera is dead? A chill climbs over my body. “That’s not funny, dude.”

“Kera went where the crack divides. Alive amid death.”

Alive amid death? The pain in my head grows. Seriously, the guy is going to give me a brain aneurysm. “Just tell me where she is so I can go get her.”

He blinks up at me, all innocent and sharp-edged.

“Bodog?” I prod.

He’s serious. He doesn’t know.

I’m losing my patience. “Ask your friends where she is.”

“I cannot.”

My fingers dig into his shoulder, meeting more bone than flesh. “I’m not messing around. You’ve got to ask them.”

He shrinks from my anger and the sound of mewling slips from his mouth. It’s then I know.

My throat dries up, and I rasp, “They’re not here. You let them go, didn’t you?”

“No keeping what can’t be kept.”

A hot ache pulses in my chest. I push Bodog away and back up. I’m so angry, I can’t look at him. I know he doesn’t mean to be difficult, but he’s driving me crazy with his half answers. I feel manipulated. I had every right to believe he knew where she was. He led me to believe he did.

“Why did you do it, Bodog? Why did you bring me here if you don’t know anything?”

“Help is needed. Only you can fix. Much power has changed hands.”

I throw back my head and see the sky poking through the leaves. Overhead, it’s an optimistic blue, but toward the edges of the horizon all around us, dark smoke curls, painting an ugly warning. I’d forgotten he wanted me here before Kera was taken. His goal isn’t about saving Kera. It’s about fixing what I put into motion. And why not? He helped me when I needed him the most. Why wouldn’t he expect the heir to the throne to save him along with Teag?

He’s tossed the burden of my unwanted birthright on my shoulders, and I can’t shrug it off and do nothing without hurting him. He’s been a friend and ally when I needed one the most. He deserves my help. I shouldn’t be surprised that my problems have doubled. I can’t go back, not until I find a way to save Kera and Bodog.

Damn it, and Jason.

I whip around and ask, “Kera’s kidnapping and what’s been going on in Teag are connected. I’m sure of it. Think. Why was she taken?”

“Bait.”

“And I followed like they knew I would. But why do they want me?”

“They do not.”

For a second I don’t get it, and then it hits me. “Whoever it is wants me dead. Just like Jason wants me dead.”

Bodog sniffs the air. The trees creak in the wind, twisting and swaying their limbs, pushing the scent of pine, earth, and burning village toward us. Bodog’s skin pulses between a dark brown and faded nutmeg color. He only does that when he’s scared. He’s not strong enough for what’s about to happen, not like he was before.

A battle is brewing. It’s already begun. The nature of it will destroy Bodog. Even though he’s scared to death, he’s stepping out there and putting his life on the line for me. It immediately becomes clear. I’m the one who tracked him down. I’ve got to let him go.

I step back. “Go underground where you’re safe. I’ll figure this out.” I start toward the village, but the crunch of dried leaves has me turning around. Bodog stops, his face peeking out from the layers of fabric he’s swimming in.

“What are you doing?”

“You go the wrong way.”

A frown slips between my eyes. I know exactly where the village is. “I don’t need a guide. You can go. No hard feelings, dude.”

I move ahead, but I still hear his footsteps behind me, though he’s making an effort to walk quietly. A second later, his hand clamps on to my arm and he tugs me in a different direction. I try to shake him off. “Stop. I don’t need you.”

“Bodog sees what is not there, knows places few will go. The one you need is not where you seek. Trust me.”

Trust. It’s something I have a difficult time doing. “And you know this because…”

“The dead never lie.”

At the mention of dead things, I scrunch my eyes shut and try not to groan in frustration. Even though the path is clear to me, Bodog sees it differently. Why does he always see it differently?

He tugs harder. “Come.”

I sigh and turn in the direction he’s pulling. He knows Teag and its inhabitants better than I ever will. And I have to admit, once he decides to help, he gets the job done. I consider his earnest yet gaunt face and bony too-big-for-his-body hands, and a flash of guilt heats my cheeks. “You know it’s going to get bad.”

He nods. “People will die. What has been will no longer be.”

“Well,” I say, sarcasm oozing, “that’s not at all ominous-sounding. Can’t wait.”

I lick my suddenly dry lips. Teag and its ever-present threat of death is starting to really annoy me.

Waiting For Trouble

Pulling information out of Bodog isn’t easy, but when I piece it all together, I know he’s taking me to the tainted, a breed of firsts who have some portion of human blood. For some reason he thinks they know where Kera is. If they’re the ones who were slaughtered in the fight to kill Navar, I wonder how willing they’ll be to help us. If I were them, not very.

Getting to the tainted isn’t easy. Bands of rogue firsts are everywhere. We manage to avoid them, and when we finally stop walking, I naturally think we’ve arrived.

I would be wrong.

For two long minutes Bodog stands, his arms hanging at his side, his head bowed.

I can’t wait any longer and ask, “Are we there?”

“No.”

“Are we lost?”

“No.”

He drops to the ground in an imitation of a pile of dirty laundry. And a smelly pile at that.

“What’s wrong?”

“Tired.” He sends me a pathetic look. “Hungry.”

It’s not like I’m a callous person, but flopping down in the middle of the forest doesn’t seem to be the smartest choice. “I don’t think we should stop here.”

He doesn’t listen. Big surprise. Slowly, he inches along the ground, his ears twitching like twin radars.

I know when I’m defeated. With just a thought, I produce a tart green apple and survey our immediate area. I’ve got to pee. The night air isn’t exactly cold, but I’m not thrilled about exposing my man parts to take a leak. In this place anything can jump out and bite you.

I stretch out on the ground, ticking away the minutes and shooting Bodog nasty looks he chooses to ignore. “When I’m done with this apple, we leave, okay?” He doesn’t even acknowledge that I’m here. I take a big bite. There’s no talking to Bodog when he gets an idea in his head.

I can’t believe I’m being held hostage by a diminutive garbage disposal. While I munch on my apple, he scours the area for all manner of creepy-crawly things he can shove into his mouth. Like popcorn. As he eats, he plumps around the edges until he’s more like the Bodog I know. Nothing is off-limits as a viable food choice, made clear when he sniffs out a dead rabbit hidden within the bushes and eats it though it’s been dead for God knows how many days and smells like chunky milk and farts.

I point at him. “That’s disgusting, dude. Don’t even think about coming near me.”

A burp ripples from his throat, soiling the air I breathe, and I toss my apple core at him. He eats that, too.

He stays an acceptable distance from me and begins to pull up chunks of grass and debris.

I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him. “Tell me again why we’re here? Sitting. Doing nothing.”

The little guy continues to dig, not giving me an answer.

“We can’t stay. Jason’s going to find us lollygagging around and turn all schoolyard bully on me again. I’m not interested in joining whatever payback game he’s playing. I mean, I’m happy he’s alive, but you tell me. Did he look happy to see me?”

Bodog finishes what I can only call a nest and burrows in until all I can see are the tips of his ears and a patch of thin hair. “Worry never solves problems,” he says and yawns.

“Did you read that in a book called Sayings That Are Complete Crap? Seriously, not helpful. Do you know what would be helpful? You getting up and—”

A snore rips into the air.

“Bodog?” Another explosive inhalation rocks the ground beneath me. He’s like a seismic event. Easily a 2.6 on the Richter scale.

I turn my back on him and curl into myself.

Don’t worry. Right. Easy for someone to say who doesn’t have a hulking wrestler out to rip his head from his body.

A little magic, and I have a leaf blanket. It’s not soft, but it’s something to ward off the chill. When I let my guard down, Kera’s cries for help rattle my head. I try to calm her, but it’s like she can’t hear me.

I don’t know how long I lie there imagining all sorts of horrible scenarios Kera could be going through. I debate whether or not I should contact her through my dreams, but sleeping isn’t really an option. Jason is still out there. Hunting.

I don’t know how he’s doing it, but he’s using magic and doing it well. Someone has to be helping him, and for some odd reason, he thinks killing me will make him stronger. He needs a serious reality check. Only the king of Teag can collect power that way…and me, but I don’t want to think about that disturbing perk to my new status.

It’s suddenly too quiet. I turn toward Bodog. He’s not snoring anymore. His ears are twitching like little radars. Suddenly, he spikes into a sitting position, his eyes huge.

I rocket upright. “What?” I whisper, instantly on edge.

From out of the darkness materializes a boy, a short dagger in hand. He waves it in my direction. “First or friend?”

Bodog stands and raises his big knobby hands. His ears twitch and his body turns glow-in-the-dark white. And why not? I’ve always believed nothing says nonthreatening like a vertically challenged, facially unattractive albino dude.

If ever I’ve met a kid who would stab me in my back while I slept, this boy is him. Messy hair, dirt-encrusted skin, ragged clothes, and a glower that could kill on contact if he had the magic to back it up, which I’m pretty sure he doesn’t. And I thought I had trust issues. I’m cartoon-character friendly compared to this kid.

“Why does it have to be one or the other?”

“I ain’t stupid. Drop your weapons.” The kid has balls, but his high-pitched command kind of ruins the scary effect.

“I don’t disarm for anyone. Besides, if I want you dead, I don’t need a weapon to do it. Trust me on that.”

I guess he does, because he doesn’t repeat his demand. “I’ve been following you for a while. You lost?”

“Not exactly. I think we’re looking for you and your friends.”

“I don’t have any friends.”

I believe him.

Bodog begins that obnoxious muttering as he leans heavily on his stick, and the boy’s frown deepens. “Who are you and what do you want?” His stance tightens like a string holding a kite. One wrong move and he’ll snap.

“Listen, we don’t want any trouble. Have you seen Kera of Teag?”

A smug smile tilted his lips. “All the Keras around here are from Teag.”

I’m losing my patience fast. “She’s from a nearby village. Her father is Lord Hadrain.”

“You refer to Kera from Ainsbury Cross.”

“Yeah. I think that’s the village. We were told one of the tainted knows where she is. I need to find her.”

His smug expression disappears. “We don’t use that word. What do you want with Kera?”

“I’m her friend. Her good friend. Dylan.”

The boy’s stance instantly relaxes and he slides his gaze over me. “You are the heir to Teag?”

He didn’t have to sound so disappointed. “Yeah, whatever. All I want is to find Kera and take her home.”

“Last I heard, she went back to the human realm. Maybe you should look there.”

“She was kidnapped. Brought back to Teag by some monstrous flying bird/lizard thing. Looks right out of the Jurassic age.” His eyebrows do a very adult “you’re crazy” arch at me, and I shake my head. “I don’t care if you believe me or not. Bodog’s dead friends said you all know where she is. I just need to find her. It’s that simple.”

“Doesn’t sound simple to me. Sounds like you’re thick in the head and love-bit. That happens to your kind.”

“Love-bit?” Like my soul has been infected with love? It fits how I feel. Only Kera’s love makes me feel whole. “I guess that’s it. So, are you going to help me?”

“I don’t know where she is.”

Not what I wanted to hear. Why is everyone around here ignorant of what’s happening? I twist away and start pacing, and grumbling. “Innocent people get killed in your backyard…isn’t it a lovely day? Dark souls tear up your village…let’s have a cup of tea and all will be fine. Kera’s kidnapped by a gigantic flying dinosaur…oh look, the sunflowers are blooming.” They’re all freakin’ ostriches with their heads buried shoulder-deep in the sand.

“You always talk to yourself?”

“Nope, it’s new.” This place is making me as crazy as Mom.

The boy’s face changes from irritated to slightly annoyed. He stashes his dagger and says, “I don’t know where she is, but I think I know someone who does.”

Not Alone

Darkness pressed in on Kera. Her limbs struggled to move. She tried to shift, but something prevented her. Even her eyelids resisted the command to open. A soft voice sang, lulling her into a portal where dreams floated by. All she needed to do was touch one, which she did, and she spiraled into the dream with a speed that left her breathless.

When her head stopped spinning, she opened her eyes to find herself in a large, mirrored ballroom. Dozens of her reflections filled her vision. She was dressed in an exquisitely made ball gown of deep blue, though her corset fit so tightly, she couldn’t take a deep breath.

Before her stretched a table, beautifully laid and groaning with food. A softly painted fresco depicting various birds and flowers covered each wall. Colonnades supported an arched ceiling. Lively music filled the air, and a court of men and women danced on a polished marble floor at the opposite side of the room. Tiny lights overhead and meticulously shaped greenery decorated the room, giving the impression they were outside in a perfectly groomed garden underneath a star-studded night sky. The vision should have made her smile. It didn’t. She didn’t know this place. She didn’t know these people.

She spied a door along the side wall. Nothing stood in her way but the table and one lone man. He lounged in an ornate chair at the head of the table, his silver vest, elaborately tied ascot, dark jacket, and trousers fitting him to perfection. He was handsome, in that brooding way that reminded her of Dylan. As she moved along the table, she peeked in his direction and noticed his attention never wavered from her.

Rounding the table, she faced him and he raised his hand, a gesture that bespoke authority. She hoped he was signaling someone else, but no one else stood nearby. The man smiled and waved her closer.

She eyed the door. What if she sprinted to it? Would anyone stop her? No one seemed interested in what she was doing except the man at the head of the table. She turned to find the man in front of her, a hairbreadth away. “Please stay, Kera. There is no reason to run off.”

“Who are you?”

“You may call me Baun.”

So that was the reason he seemed so familiar. “Are you Dylan’s father?”

“Yes.”

“But you are imprisoned.” She looked again at their surroundings. It was then she noticed the couples dancing. They literally floated, their translucent wings fluttering as they moved. The pux like she had never seen them before. “How…?”

Baun took her hand and led her to his chair, where another magically appeared. “Truly beautiful in the size you’ve envisioned them, and if you knew them like I do, it is slightly terrifying. In dreams, anything is possible.”

She was dreaming? Then none of this was real. “Why am I here?”

“You tell me. Dreams are funny that way. No rhyme or reason to them. Please sit.”

Kera wished he’d let go of her hand, but he held fast. Smiling, he nodded to the chair. “Please, sit with me. I ask only for a moment. Then you can do whatever you wish.”

A ribbon of doubt hovered, but she had little choice. Turning, she sat, glad to have her hand back, and smoothed her gown. It felt like running her hands over water.

He sat, though his body didn’t relax. “I sense your conflict. You have the abilities you’ve always dreamed of, but they are only temporary.”

He wasn’t making sense. “How so?”

“Did Dylan not tell you?” A sadness peaked his eyebrows. “Both you and he cannot possess the same magic. It’s never been done.”

Her father had shared his magic with her for years to keep others from finding out she had none…though it was never permanent. Her chin inched up. “Just because it has never been done does not mean it is impossible.”

“I fear you give too much weight to chance. Let me speak frankly. Dylan will take your powers from you. He must. They are his.”

“I thought they were yours? That Navar had somehow stolen them from you.”

His face darkened. “Once given, no power can be taken back…not without certain measures.”

She didn’t know what measures he was talking about. He wasn’t making any sense. “Are you saying you gave a portion of your powers to Navar? Why would you do that?”

“I am not so evil as many would believe. I did it for the good of Teag. And for my generosity, I was betrayed just like your father and everyone else. By the time Navar’s true motives were known, it was too late.”

“I knew the kind of man he was,” she said, still hurt no one believed her, “and Dylan is nothing like him. If Dylan had wanted my powers, he has had plenty of opportunities to take them.”

“His experience is lacking, but he is beginning to understand.” He presented a plate of fruit all gleaming irresistibly. “Hungry? None of it is real, but it will satisfy your cravings for a moment.”

Though he was trying not to show it, Baun’s clipped words revealed his anger. If he had willingly given his powers to Navar, then that was his mistake, not hers. And as for Dylan taking her powers, he wouldn’t.

Kera straightened and pretended to watch the dancers. “I don’t believe you.”

Baun picked up a perfectly shaped and unblemished reddish-green pear and bit into it, his gaze assessing her. “I’m not surprised. The picture painted of me isn’t flattering, but you know I cannot lie. Tell me this. Whenever you and Dylan are together, have you noticed certain anomalies?”

She lied and shook her head, not wanting to believe anything he said.

“His emotions are volatile. His magic is straining to collect yours. It needs yours to be complete. He will never be able to control his powers unless he possesses them all. Think of it as a balance. Without your portion, he is only half of what he should be. Though I wish it were different, mark my words. He will take your powers whether you wish it or not.”

“He would never do that.” She glared into his pale blue eyes. “You don’t know him.”

“I don’t have to know him. I know what he’s going through. The small amount of power I still possess yearns for what is inside him. What is inside you.” He touched her shoulder and she could feel her powers straining toward him.

She jerked away and stood. “I want to leave.”

He slowly placed the remainder of his pear on the table, and said without looking at her, “You can try, but it will do you no good.”

“You cannot keep me here,” she said and prayed she was right.

“I would have once said there are worse fates than being locked in a dream.” A bitter laugh escaped, and he reluctantly looked at her. “I would be wrong. You have taken refuge within a Dreamweaver’s den.”

Kera gasped. Dreamweavers were creatures relegated to horror stories. They fed off their victims’ dreams until their bodies withered away.

“The Unknown has more than its fair share of monsters. Did you not think it odd such a cozy den didn’t have an owner?”

She had thought luck had finally found her. Kera remembered hearing a sweet melody just before she fell asleep. She wasn’t alone in the den.

One moment she could move, the next her legs were bound from the knees down. A rush of bile soured her stomach. Her lips trembled as she sank to her knees. “What is happening?”

Baun picked her up and placed her back in her chair. Squatting in front of her, he cupped her hands in his and squeezed her fingers, his face lined with worry. “Do not think of your bonds.”

She struggled to forget, but how could she when she knew a monster held her captive?

“Trust me, Kera.” He stood, and suddenly his formal wear vanished, replaced by rags and heavy chains that wrapped his body. Just as quickly, his appearance changed and he was back in his perfectly tailored clothes. “I know from whence I speak. Keep your head clear. This is your dream. Anything is possible. Let the fantasy have free reign.”

It took time, but as soon as she committed to the fantasy, she was able to move her legs again. It didn’t erase the fear. Her body flashed hot and cold. She pressed her palms together in an effort to stop her hands from shaking. “What will happen to me?”

“I don’t exactly know.” Pity shone from his eyes. He may not know the details, but he knew. He just didn’t want to say. He held out his hand to her. “Stay for now. Enjoy this moment. All too soon we may find ourselves chained in misery once again.”

A shaft of light appeared above the dancers, illuminating the glitter that covered their wings. As charming and fantastical as the dream appeared, so much of it seemed odd. If it were her dream, why would she create a lavish ball invaded by life-sized pux? And why did it seem as if Baun had as much control as she did over her dream?

Only one answer came to mind. They were sharing a dream. “You said this was my dream, but it’s yours, too.”

“Yes.” He didn’t hesitate. “I did not want to alarm you. I only wish to help, Kera.”

“Can you?”

“If I can think of a way, I will.”

She dropped her gaze to his outstretched hand. He was saying everything she wanted to hear. Did she really trust him?

She had to. Firsts couldn’t lie, and he was her only choice.

She placed her hand in his and stood, dazed by what she knew and afraid of what she didn’t. The music grew louder as they joined the dancers.

“Never give up hope,” Baun said as he twirled her to the music. “After all these years, I still hope to be free, have worked tirelessly for that day.”

If he couldn’t break free of his bonds, how could he possibly help her escape? Unlike him, she didn’t have the luxury of years to work toward her freedom. She had only days. She must think fast and find a solution before it was too late. Not just for her, but for Dylan.

Thinking about him caused tears to well up in her eyes, and she stopped dancing.

“What is wrong?” Baun honestly looked concerned.

She blotted at her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. “I was thinking of Dylan and how much I love him.”

Why she admitted that to him, she didn’t know, but the profession calmed her.

Baun’s fingers tightened against hers. “How tragic,” he said without a hint of spite. “It has been my experience that love is a wicked master whose touch is not gentle, nor is its appetite ever satisfied.”

She saw the pain he could not hide, and rising on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. “I am sorry for you.”

That she now pitied him left him speechless.

Without warning, the dream shifted. The walls crumbled. The ground cracked. Couple after couple fell into the chasms. Baun pulled her away from the edge that suddenly appeared near her feet. Everywhere she looked, the edges to the dream were disintegrating. “What is happening?”

A single-voiced lullaby filled the air, and Baun turned to her. His rags had reappeared along with the chains. “Our time is done.”

Without warning, he vanished. Kera became aware of the hard ground, her aching back, and the musty scent of dirt. She managed to crack open her eyes, and though her vision was blurry from sleep, she saw a boy, humming a tune. She blinked, clearing her vision for a split second. That was all she needed. The boy moved his six arms in a hypnotic way that expertly wove sticky, silken threads around her legs, binding her in a half-completed cocoon.

Her heart beat faster, rushing the blood through her veins. She struggled to move, to tear out of her bonds, but it was already impossible. The boy smiled and sang his lullaby sweeter. Soon Kera stopped moving, her eyes fluttered closed, and she tumbled back into the dark portal where dreams waited to be caught.

She didn’t reach out for one. Unlike Baun, she didn’t want to hide in a fantasy, because without Dylan, no fantasy, no matter how lavish, was worth dreaming.

Against a Dark Sky

The sun peeks around the trees, barely lighting the area in front of the caves. I survey the area with a critical eye. So this is where Kera’s friends, those tainted by human blood, live in relative safety thanks to the spell that keeps the firsts from entering the area. I’d say it’s one step above camping…barely.

The kid tells us to wait. Bodog and I stand, cold and dead tired, waiting and waiting for someone to acknowledge we’re here. A few ticks past a quarter of an hour goes by before we hear footsteps echoing in the cave and a none-too-pleased female voice.

“No more playing about, Halim. If you don’t stop sneaking out, I will tie you to your bed.”

“Galt already tried that. Didn’t work. I got strong teeth,” he says, teeth bared as he reemerges from the cave, a girl in tow.

The girl stops. Her full blue skirt swirls around her legs for a split second, making the embroidery along the hem dance. The white blouse highlights the paleness of her skin and her freckles. With her red curls and tiny stature, she resembles a doll…a very serious, angry doll.

“I remember you.” She pushes back an unruly curl and glares.

Once again, I’m the unpopular one. Totally sucks. “You’re Lani’s sister.”

“Yes. Signe. And you’re Dylan.” She doesn’t move closer, only stares like she wishes I’d disappear. “Why is it every bad thing that has happened in Teag lately is connected to you?”

I can’t say I particularly like this girl.

I shrug. “I’m lucky that way.” My answer doesn’t please her. Watching her is like watching a thermometer rise. A red flush starts along her collarbone and slowly rises up her neck and into her face.

An elbow from Halim breaks her stare and she clears her throat. “Halim tells me you are searching for Kera?”

“She’s been taken. Halim thinks someone here might know where.”

“Does he?” Signe twirls a ring on her finger, and I can almost see her brain ticking through ideas. Is she actually weighing whether or not to tell me what she knows?

The sound of footsteps reaches us, and I see a guy move from the caves and stand alongside her. He looks familiar, though I’m positive I’ve never met him before. Signe whispers something to him I can’t hear.

“It’s not up to you,” I hear him say. A flash of familiarity happens again when he turns back to me and nods. “So you’re Dylan? Your grandpa said you were borrowing trouble, but I never thought it was connected to this place.”

I give him a hard stare and then the dots finally connect. The dark coloring. The same jawline. “You’re Wyatt’s brother, the one who’s been missing. Reece, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” The deep lines on his face don’t give him a user-friendly feel. There’s an edge of sadness about him that makes me not want to get too close.

“Everyone’s been looking for you. Your brother’s here, you know. In the village. It was attacked yesterday, and he’s helping out the firsts.”

“He would.” Reece doesn’t give an explanation about why or how he got here. His intense hazel eyes roam between Bodog and me, and eventually lock on to Bodog, who’s yawning and scratching parts that should only be scratched in private.

“This is Bodog.” I pause, wondering how I’m going to explain him. In the end I say, “He’s a friend.”

“He looks…friendly enough.”

Bodog steps toward Signe. His red-rimmed, googly eyes drop to the ring and then back up to her face. “You can find her, can’t you?”

“She can,” Reece says and pulls her forward.

She’s fighting him; I can see it in the ridged set of her jaw and the glint of steel in her eyes. Her gaze lands on me for a split second. Whatever she’s mad about, she blames me. She’s made that perfectly clear. With a quick yank, she pulls away from Reece. “I’m just supposed to trust him?”

“Yes.” The word rips from my throat. “Kera’s been gone too long. I know she’s alive, but I don’t know for how much longer. If you care about her at all, you’ll help me.”

Her cheeks pale, and her hands grip the cloth at the side of her gown into little coiled balls. “Never again say I care naught for her. She is the only family I have left.”

“Then show me. Find her.”

Signe stands rooted to the spot, glaring at me for so long, I begin to question whether or not she’s heard anything I’ve said. Reece finally whispers something in her ear and it’s like she’s snapped from some spell. She hikes up her skirts and drops to the ground, her knees digging into the soft earth, yet her back remains ramrod stiff. Gathering a handful of dirt, she glances up at us, and the first sign of hesitance peeks out. “I am not a first. I’ve never done this before. I have no control over what may happen.”

Halim moves close and puts his hand on her shoulder. “It’ll work. I know it will.”

She takes a deep breath and holds her hand out so that the dark-blue stone set within her ring faces up. As she mutters, the stone glows, casting a circle of blue light in a deep arc. She tosses first one handful and then another handful of dirt into the air. The dirt swirls within the blue glow and collects into a three-dimensional map where it hovers in midair, its detail amazingly accurate. A blue line cuts through the image, like a road that runs from us to Kera.

“It stops here, only a league west from us.” Signe follows the line’s path with her finger. “I don’t understand. Nothing is there but farmland and an old bridge people say is cursed. How can she be stuck there?”

I move closer and trace along the blue line as well. “Something has to be there that we can’t see. Right, Bodog?”

Bodog grunts and taps the bulbous end of his stick to his temple. “Magic fools the eyes.”

“Magic doesn’t fool me.” Halim’s dirt-smeared face scrunches with suspicion.

I cover Signe’s ring. The map disintegrates as the dirt falls to the ground. “If she’s there, I’ll tear through any magic to get to her.”

Signe stands; a determined gleam enters her eyes. “I’m going with you.”

“Whoever has her won’t let her go without a fight,” I warn.

And then Signe does the oddest thing. She recites a poem:

True Evil abounds

In spirit and thought

While good surrounds

Where death is wrought.

To the Unknown

Which none can see

Where flesh and bone

Take flight from thee.

It’s been my experience that most poetry avoids clarity, and I’m not sure why. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I haven’t recited that in years. It’s an old nursery rhyme. It fits, though, don’t you think?” Her lips quiver, and she faces Bodog. “She’s in the Unknown, isn’t she?”

Bodog’s ears flop against his head as he nods.

“If that’s true,” she says softly, “we are in serious trouble.”

I don’t like the sound of that. “We need to leave. Like now.”

Halim’s cheeks brighten with excitement. “I agree. Let’s go get her.”

Reece turns the boy around and shoves him toward the caves. “You’re not going.”

The boy twirls around, a frown shadowing his features. “Yes, I am.”

“No,” Reece repeats. “You’re not. And just so we’re clear, your face will meet the ground, hard, if I even see you come out of that cave before I leave.”

Halim glares at Reece, then turns pleading eyes on the rest of us. Not seeing any help, he wipes his dirty nose along his sleeve and storms into the caves.

“We need a few things.” Signe doesn’t wait, and follows Halim.

“She can’t help him,” I say. “That kid is pure trouble.”

Reece watches them go inside. “You have no idea.”

I’m running close to empty. Like a junkie jonesing for his next high, I dig for a power boost and let it wash over me, feel it sink into my very center and warm my bones. I sigh and roll the tension out of my shoulders.

Reece catches my eye and shakes his head at me. “I’m thinking that’s not healthy, dude.”

There’s no turning back once it’s done. Frankly, I’m in over my head. If not for the energy boosts, I’d be dead already. “I’m thinking you’re right. But I don’t have a choice. I haven’t had time to sleep.”

“How about eating?” Signe says, having come from the cave with four satchels, each filled with fresh fruit, bread, a few strips of jerky, and a canteen of water.

I take one, and watch Bodog peek inside his and promptly toss it away. I shrug at Signe’s questioning look and say, “He prefers food that’s still moving.”

I build an earth mount beneath each of them and within ten minutes, we’re beyond the barrier of the caves and moving fast. Bodog isn’t keen on the concept of dirt riding, which is weird, since he lives underground where he’s moving dirt all day. For some reason, he’s become attached to the bent stick he found and won’t leave it behind. He holds it in front of him like a balance pole while his toes grip the mound in a prehensile way that gives me the shivers. Reece easily takes to dirt surfing, which doesn’t surprise me. It’s Signe who needs a little help and time to adjust. She’s a girl through and through and refused to change into pants. Being dressed like she is, it’s a miracle she doesn’t fall off.

The sun is still climbing into the sky when we reach the place Signe’s line ends on the map. She’s right. It’s a stretch of fields and more fields. Bodog starts making noises. “There.” He points to an old bridge, its wooden railing sagging, boards warped and cracked.

The mounds beneath our feet dissolve. The sound of rushing water billows up from a crack in the earth about as long as a football field and as wide as a gymnasium. I don’t see anything unusual, and I take a step closer.

“Do you feel that?” Signe rubs her hands along her arms.

Reece pulls her back protectively. “Yeah. It feels wrong.”

There’s a deadness about the area that makes my skin crawl, as if warning me to stay away.

“It’s the beginning of the Unknown. It has to be.” Signe’s words are soft and shaky.

We all turn to Bodog. He’s scratching at the earth, like he’s searching for something to munch on, but his eyes are glued to the bridge.

Reece stares beyond the bridge. “What exactly is the Unknown?”

“A story to scare little children.” Signe rubs her arms. “At least, that is what I’ve always believed.”

“A truth,” Bodog counters, “too horrible to ignore.”

Signe’s freckles suddenly stand out on her pale skin. Makes me wonder about the stories she was told as a child.

“Is it another dimension?” I ask.

A lash of wind blows Signe’s hair in her face, and she tucks the strand behind her ear with a shaky hand. “More like a bulge of space created for all the evil in Teag. Scary enough to make up children’s rhymes about it.” She wraps her arms around her torso and begins worrying a path into the ground.

Bodog snorts. “Created for unwanted things. Uncontrollable things.”

“Like a depository for anything different.” Reece shakes his head. “That’s messed up on an epic scale.”

Signe stops pacing. “Kera cannot be in there. It’s horrible.”

I don’t like the thought of Kera being in there anymore than Signe. The firsts have never been shy about maintaining a status quo when it comes to Teag. They like their land and its inhabitants to reflect the perfection they love. Anything odd or weird would naturally not fit in.

I take a good look at Bodog. There isn’t anything odder or weirder than him. With a deep squat, I’m eye level to my strange, little friend. “Bodog, why have I never seen anyone else like you in Teag?”

A troubled expression crosses his face. His stare blurs with water, and his head sinks between his shoulders. “The Unknown.”

“They put your kind in there?”

He nods, though his body is wooden, like an old discarded puppet. He’s a creature out of place in this realm, much like I was in mine.

I bow my head. How can the firsts possibly justify such a cruel act?

Reece lets out a low soulful whistle. “The more I find out about these firsts, the more I don’t like them.” He looks at me. “No offense.”

I stand, fighting the anger that flares within me. “Not a fan, so none taken.”

Signe’s curls bounce as she shakes her head. “The firsts are harsh not only on others, but on themselves.”

“Are you seriously defending them?” I ask, more than a little surprised. “Because they’re part of my family tree even I wish I could disinherit.”

“All I am saying is that they have an amazing capacity to love as well as hate. At times, that hate comes with a distorted sense of justice.”

Does mine? Kera tried to warn me. She said I was changing. If I’m not careful, could I become as twisted as my father before they locked him away? It’s a disturbing thought.

I turn to Bodog. “Is the bridge the only thing keeping whatever’s in there in and us out?”

“No bridge.”

Reece leans close to Signe. “You see the bridge, right?”

“Are we seeing what’s not there?” I ask. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“It is there.”

And this isn’t the first time Bodog has said something that doesn’t make sense. “If the bridge is there, then it can be crossed.” I walk to where the ground falls into a fairly deep gap. The sensation of needles poking my skin appears. I ignore it and peer over the side. At the bottom, a river rushes over huge rocks and swirls back against itself.

Reece’s voice rises above the sound. “My gut doesn’t like this.”

“Mine’s telling me there’s no other way,” I reply.

I sling my satchel over one of my shoulders and then grab hold of the wooden railing. It wobbles beneath my hand. I place my foot on the bridge and carefully test it with a bounce. It holds. I glance back. The stick lies across Bodog’s lap, and he has his hands over his ears and his eyes tightly shut, mumbling to himself again. Signe clasps her hands prayerfully in front of her, while Reece slowly shakes his head, still not convinced I’m making a wise decision, and edges closer.

I can’t stop now, not if I can make it across and find Kera. I move my hand along the rail, my grip white-knuckled. The air feels thick in front of me. A sharp pain digs at my side like the tip of a knife slowly grating past muscle and bone. I suck in my breath and press forward. As my foot connects with the board, it splinters apart, jarring me forward. The whole side of the ravine begins to shake and crumble. Signe gasps my name. Reece darts forward. Amid the earth shaking and rolling me toward the gaping hole, I throw myself back. Reece grabs my satchel strap and spins me safely to the ground before letting me go.

I touch my side, sure to find it bleeding. It feels bruised, but the skin is unbroken. My hands shake and I feel sick to my stomach.

Reece braces his hands against his knees and sucks in air. “Next time,” he huffs, “we’re going with my gut, not yours.”

I slowly roll to my knees, and only then do I hear what Bodog is saying. “You cannot cross. You cannot cross.”

My head hangs, and I grit my teeth against his fatalistic attitude. “There’s got to be a way to cross, Bodog. I’m not giving up.” I push myself to my feet and scowl down at the little man. “Either you start thinking of ways to get there, or…leave.”

“I know how,” a high-pitched voice says.

We all turn to see Halim leaning against a tree, clutching the bag Bodog rejected as he bites into an apple. I slant Signe a questioning glance.

“He was going to follow us anyway.” Like that’s an excuse.

“Do you want to know or not?” the little nose-wipe calls.

Reece and I exchange looks. He shakes his head, clearly not willing to trust a kid. I know better. I was like Halim when I was younger. I pin the kid with my best stare. “Spill it.”

He takes another bite, not in the least bit intimidated. “Do I get to come along?”

“This is no place for a kid,” I hear Reece say to Signe.

Being raised in a loving, stable family, Reece doesn’t get it. I do. That doesn’t mean I’ll roll over like a dog begging for pets and let Halim come along. “How’d you get here so fast?”

“I left before you, plus I know shortcuts.”

Figures he’d know shortcuts even a magic map wouldn’t know about.

“Let me guess. I can’t keep you from following us, can I?”

“Nope.” His grin makes me want to grin back.

“I didn’t think so.” I totally cave and wave him over.

He rushes forward, excitement flushing his cheeks. “It’s in the rhyme.”

“The children’s rhyme?” I ask Signe, and she says it again, but we all come up blank. I turn to Halim. “Why don’t you tell us?”

He shakes his head disappointedly. “And you’re the heir to the throne? Scary.”

“Mind yourself,” Reece threatens.

“Fine. ‘Where flesh and bone take flight from thee.’ Flesh and bone take flight. It’s right there for anyone to hear.” His face brightens as if he’s found a fortune of gold in his own belly button. “We have to fly.”

Signe bites her lip and shakes her head, a ghost of a smile showing. “Well, that’s a relief. It’s a lot less gruesome than what my father always said it meant.”

“Makes sense,” Reece adds. “In a bizarre fairy-tale way.”

They’re all forgetting one thing. “Where are we going to find something big enough to fly us across?”

Signe shakes her head. Bodog stops groveling on the ground long enough to give it some thought. When I turn to Reece, he’s staring at a grinning Halim.

Reece clamps his hand on the boy’s head and turns his face up to his. “You’ve got an idea, don’t you?”

Halim’s dirt-encrusted grin widens even more. “How do you feel about griffins?”

Winging It

The look on Reece’s face telegraphs exactly how he feels about griffins, and if that’s not enough, he flat-out tells us. “Birds smell funny.”

I’m just as hesitant but for different reasons. I’ve seen a griffin—impressive in a scary, there’s-no-way-I’m-getting-on-that-thing kind of way. I won’t tell Reece that. Instead, I do what all guys do to hide their fear. Play like it’s no big deal. “It’s only half a bird.”

“Still.” He crosses his arms over his chest and scowls.

Signe steps between us and puts a hand to each of our chests, getting our attention. “It doesn’t matter. We would never find one. Griffins are not social creatures.”

“I know.” Halim bounces on his toes, his face alight with news. “He’s not supposed to, but Kera’s father still has the one from the cleansing ceremony.”

Does the boy have a solution for everything? “How do you know that?”

“I get around.”

I bet he does.

“Well?” I turn to Signe, asking the only person qualified to answer the obvious. “Is it doable?”

“A griffin can carry one, two at most depending on weight. If Lord Hadrain has one, then we are truly fortunate. But he’s a scholar, not a warrior.”

I know exactly what she’s saying. “He’ll overthink the situation until it’s too late.”

Her eyes dim a little. “He won’t mean to. It’s how he is. Cautious.”

“That’s settled then,” Reece says in his gruff voice. “We borrow the griffin without him knowing.”

“And how are we to do that?” Signe asks, doubt showing clearly on her face.

A loud snuffle and cough sounds. We all turn to see Bodog’s large, googly eyes blinking innocently up at us. “Bodog knows.”

I was hoping he’d say that.

Bodog’s network of tunnels runs as damp and dark and smelly as I remember. Most are still in good shape, but others have collapsed or have been taken over by nests of bugs even Bodog doesn’t find appetizing.

The light Bodog holds out in front of him is more of a speck, especially when the tunnels shake, knocking dirt free. We’re deep beneath the surface, but something is hammering away at the earth. It’s not a comforting situation. One tunnel collapsing could create a chain reaction and bury us. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to keep us all alive.

The sound of us walking, our ragged breathing, fills my ears, and I flinch when Halim tugs on my shirt to get my attention. “Are you as powerful as they say?”

Leave it to Halim to say what’s nagging at my mind.

“Moreso,” Bodog snaps from the front of the line. The tap of his walking stick echoes eerily as he moves along. “Whatever he wishes, he gets. The world is at his command.”

That’s news to me. “Bodog...”

“Then why does he need us?” Halim challenges.

“He doesn’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

Bodog snorts at my admission, and I ignore him. “I have power, but it’s not endless.” Though I do have more than my fair share.

Halim drags his hand along the wall, skimming over rocks and a scattering of bones from things long dead that are embedded in this section of the tunnel. “Kera has power, more than anyone I’ve ever known, and I know a lot of people. Still, she’s stuck in a bad place. What if they stick us there, too?”

Bodog thumps his stick on the ground and glances over his shoulder toward Halim. “They won’t.”

We come to a fork in the tunnels and veer to the left, all following Bodog like a troop of ants after a picnic.

The little man’s confidence perks Halim’s curiosity. “Really? Why not?”

“Dylan they will take. Us they will kill.”

Halim staggers to a stop, and we all call Bodog’s name in that disapproving voice all adults use on kids when they shouldn’t speak the truth.

True to his impetuous nature, Halim pulls out a knife and waves it around. “I won’t let anybody get that close to me.”

He stabs and twists in the tight space, causing Reece to grab Signe and yank her out of the way. “Take that thing from him before he stabs one of us or himself.”

I push Halim against the wall, wrench the knife free, and hold him still as he struggles. “This isn’t a toy.” Like the boy, his knife isn’t very big, but the blade is sharp and strong. I let go and hold it in front of him. “You asked me how powerful I am?”

He nods. His eyes are overly bright and his Adam’s apple spasms within his throat.

Power rushes forward, invading the tunnel, raising the hair on our arms. It thrums against our eardrums. As serious as I’ve ever been, I say, “This is how powerful I am.”

I call the heat that burns in my bones to my hand. The knife starts to smolder, then catch fire. The wooden handle is ashes in less than a minute. The metal blade oozes into a puddle within my palm. I close my fist and roll my fingers until hot ash pours out of my hand to the ground. When I open my hand, nothing but dust remains. I do it all without taking my eyes off Halim.

“That’s what happens to little boys who play with knives. And if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I won’t hesitate to teach you a very painful lesson.”

The boy’s awestruck gaze rises from the smoking dust in my hand and moves to each of us. He looks small and vulnerable and every inch his age. “I’m sorry.”

Signe pushes away from Reece and cups Halim’s cheek, lifting his head. “We know.”

He launches into her arms and hugs her tight as she glares at the rest of us. “He’s shaking.”

“Good,” Reece says and pushes past the pair. “That means he paid attention.”

A shock wave ripples through the tunnel and dirt rains down on us. The closer we’ve gotten to Lord Hadrain’s, the worse the conditions in the tunnels have become. I think I know why. Hadrain and his people are under attack again. I don’t want to believe it. The last thing we need is more trouble.

Reece pulls me aside and whispers, “We need to get topside. It’s not safe down here.”

“I’m not so sure it’s any safer up there.”

“I agree. This whole place is a mess.” He gives a slight nod toward Halim. “Are you sure you’re doing the right thing, keeping the kid with us? I get why you like him; I like him for the same reasons. He’s smart and thinks well on his feet, but he seems a little unstable. I don’t want him getting hurt.”

“Why are you here?” It’s a question I’ve been meaning to ask, but haven’t had time.

“Because of Kera. She saved my life. Helping her is the least I can do.”

I don’t believe him. “Really? That’s it?” I hesitate, but I have to know. “No one’s told you about Navar? About Lani?”

“I’ve been told.” His lips grow thin and his voice cold.

“Then you know he’s dead.”

“He’s not the only one who needs to pay for what he did.”

I had my suspicions, but the way he looks, like he’s ready to explode from the hate climbing through him, confirms it. “You know about Granel.”

I’ve never seen anyone shutter their emotions so quickly. When he meets Granel, and he will, I’m a little scared his control will snap. I have no doubt he’ll try to kill him. I give Reece a sad smile. “It seems we’re all a little unstable around here.”

Bodog sidles up and nudges me. “We are close. Come.”

I wipe the metallic dust from my hand, and we all follow.

After a few more yards, Bodog points to a niche in the tunnel where an exit slowly climbs to the surface. “Go there.” He then turns and moves in the opposite direction, passing Reece, who frowns and asks, “Where’s he going?”

“To prepare,” Bodog says.

“Good idea,” Halim says excitedly. “We should camouflage ourselves.” He squats and starts rubbing spit-laced dirt on his already filthy skin.

“Hey, don’t take the light,” Reece calls after Bodog, but the little man doesn’t stop. “Little ugly guy, I’m talking to you!”

“His name is Bodog,” I remind him.

“Whatever. He’s getting on my last nerve. He can’t leave us here in the dark.”

By now, I’d think Reece would notice Bodog does exactly what he wants when he wants. I motion after the receding light. “You go tell him that.”

It’s not really a suggestion, but Reece takes it as one. “Fine. I will.”

He quickly follows the fading light around the bend, calling for Bodog to stop. A handful of seconds tick by, and then his voice booms down the tunnel, “Dude, that’s not right.”

I can imagine what Bodog’s doing, and the image isn’t one I want to dwell on. Reece’s footsteps rush back our way, and when he reappears, he’s carrying the light, though he doesn’t look happy. “He’s sick.”

Halim cocks his head and asks innocently, “What’d he do?”

“The hell if I understand what I just saw, and I hope I never see it again.”

We hear the slow plod of footsteps, and then out of the darkness, Bodog returns, his skin shining lily white.

Reece stares agape at him. “Let me get this straight. We’re about to sneak into a place to steal a griffin, and he decides it’s a great time to become a glow stick?”

He’s got a point. But I also know whatever Bodog’s done, it’s his way of psyching himself up.

“He’s right, Bodog. You can’t go out there like…” I motion to his body. “Camouflage means you blend in, not draw everyone’s attention.”

“And you worried about taking me along?” Halim smirks as he rubs a fistful of dirt on his face and neck.

Bodog flashes an uneven, jagged smile and pulls out a dark brown cloak. He slips it on, successfully muting his glow factor. I tug the hood low over his bony head, making sure to tuck in his floppy ears. “Did you have to do it?”

“They will not see me,” his voice floats out from the heavy cowl.

I’ll never understand him fully. “If you say so.” He’s been more right in the past than wrong, and by this point, there’s nothing I can do but hope he’s right. I face everyone. “Ready?”

Bodog is the first one up the tunnel and out in the open. Reece follows, then Halim. I signal Signe. “Your turn.”

Her hands spread against the tunnel walls that rise to the surface, almost as if she’s forcing herself to stay put, and raises her face to mine. I see a flash of uncertainty. “There’s something you should know.”

I don’t like the sound of that. Ever since I returned to Teag it’s been one bad surprise after another. “What?” I ask, dreading what she’s going to say.

“Griffins are volatile creatures. They respond best to women. Only on the most special occasions will they even allow a man to approach them.”

“You’re kidding, right? Tell me you’re kidding.”

“N-no.” Guilt has her inching for the exit.

“You could have told me this sooner.”

“I didn’t want you to be put off. This really is our best option.”

I feel like I’ve been tricked, that this trip was pointless. “Is there anything else you need to tell me? ’Cause I don’t think I can handle another surprise once we get out there.”

“Other than I’m highly attracted to my deceased sister’s beau and am feeling terribly guilty about it? Nothing that I can think of.”

With that, she scurries out of the tunnel, leaving me with the knowledge that not only do Halim, Reece, and I have serious issues, but she’s carrying a load of her own. Right now, the only normal one of us seems to be Bodog, and he’s lit himself up like Casper the friendly ghost.

We’re going to fail. It’s a given.

And then I feel it. Nothing.

The earth has stopped shaking. In fact, it hasn’t shaken in some time.

As soon as I poke my head out of the tunnel, I instinctually want to go back. Dead bodies lie everywhere. Fire burns at odd intervals in every direction. Heavy smoke clouds my vision. I can barely see two feet in front of me. Bodog leans on his walking stick muttering to himself as Reece picks up a blood-drenched sword and rasps, “This is getting bigger by the minute.”

I shake my head. I knew an all-out attack would happen. I just didn’t know when.

Signe’s steps are fragmented, made clumsy by more than the uneven ground. She stares out over the battlefield and whispers raggedly, “All of Teag is burning. Who would do this?”

I point to the sword Reece is holding, and she confirms it’s for a first, though she’s never seen one exactly like it before. She lifts her gaze to Reece, her face wreathed in misery. “Is your world so brutal?”

“Yes,” he says and wraps his arm around her shoulders as she blinks away the moisture clinging to her lashes.

“Do you recognize anyone?” I ask. “Any of you?” All I can think of are Leo and Wyatt. I left them in the village, left them somewhere safer than where I was supposed to be going. Granted they both wanted to be here, but I still feel responsible for them.

“No. Maybe.” Signe hides her face against Reece’s chest. “I cannot look.”

Reece’s frown grows intense. “Where’s Halim?”

Signe immediately pulls away, her face showing her sudden panic. “Halim? Halim!”

“Here,” his high-pitched voice answers.

I race toward the sound and stop when I nearly stumble over him and the body he’s hovering over. I yank him to his feet. “What are you doing?”

He yanks free. “Listening.”

Halim drops to his knees and puts his ear to the man’s mouth. “Go on.”

Reece and Signe emerge from the smoke, and we huddle around and wait. It doesn’t take long for the last breath to leave the man. Halim sits back and places his fingers over the man’s eyes, forcing them closed.

“What did he say?”

“He is a Corlian.”

“From the land to the north of us?” Signe doesn’t hide her surprise. She examines the sword I still hold. “But they are our allies.”

“His people were promised power and riches if they fought for the new lord,” Halim says.

“Who is it?” I ask, though I’m afraid I already know.

“Someone not from here. He said the lord is young and reckless and brutal, disposing of lives as one would a bare bone. They followed him out of greed, but also out of fear he’d turn on them. He has a lot of power.”

Reece snorts. “Sounds like Teag’s allies aren’t as friendly as they say they are.”

“Teag isn’t as friendly as it wants people to believe.” The bitterness in my voice surprises me. I’m tired. The air feels thick, my movements slow, and one of us is missing…again. I grumble my irritation at our inability to stay together. “Bodog!”

As Bodog lumbers through the dead toward us, the acrid smoke swirls apart, and the manor’s fortified walls come into view behind him. He stops a few feet short of us and leans on his walking stick like an old, frail man. The wariness in his eyes is unmistakable. “Only the eye of the storm.”

“What, like the intermission?” Reece asks. He grabs Halim along the back of his shirt and pulls him to his feet. “Let’s go.” He literally marches the kid and Signe to the gates.

We’re not the only ones making our way to the manor. Both sides of the conflict stagger to the gates. We press forward, and I’m a little surprised when Signe tells them who I am and we’re rushed ahead of everyone else.

Inside the walls, we’re greeted by piles of dead and the moans of the wounded. One of the sentries escorts us through the throngs toward the house. Everywhere I see ruined outbuildings and stunned people. Signe’s fingers suddenly dig into my arm, drawing my attention to the stables. We all stop and stare. It’s a mass of rubble, with dead horses and smoldering timbers…and still buried within it all, the unmistakable form and feathers of a griffin.

“This way.” The sentry motions us forward.

I’m stunned. We’ve come so far, and now this. It’s almost too much for me. How am I supposed to reach Kera now?

Signe has to pull me along like a disobedient child. “There is another way. There has to be. Do not lose faith.”

“I don’t have much left.”

A man, his hair dirty and his clothes blood-spattered, intercepts us and grabs my arm. “You’ve come back. I told them you would.” He turns to those around us. “The heir to Teag is back. Did I not tell you? He is back!”

Okay, this is new. I’ve never met anyone from Teag who was excited to see me. Only Kera.

The man’s excitement sweeps through the crowd. Faces alight with interest. Hope even. The once worn and weary crowd presses in. Our escort shouts at them to stay back. We push our way forward and burst through the doors of the manor. A handful of soldiers rush forward to help keep the people back.

We’re quickly escorted down the hall. Raised voices come from what looks to be a study and we pause in the doorway. Wyatt, Leo, Hadrain, and several soldiers are huddled around a huge library table. A map, magically dotted with green and black showing each army’s movements, lies unfurled across it. Lord Hadrain jabs at a section. “I tell you, they came from this direction.”

Lounging in a chair across the room, Lucinda delicately yawns and shifts her weight. “Nothing is over there but a spit of barren land and then the sea, My Lord.”

The muscles in Wyatt’s jaw twitch. “Seems like Leo’s little kitty knows quite a bit about everything, but still has nothing of real value to share.”

“Wyatt,” Leo warns.

“What?” Wyatt pounds his fist on the table and points toward Lucinda. “Look at her. She’s acting like—”

The soldier announces us, and those around the table turn our way as we enter. A split second later, we’re rushed. Signe is engulfed in Hadrain’s arms, and Wyatt, dressed like a soldier of Teag, whoops when he sees his brother. Bodog hides behind me as best he can as Leo rushes over and gives me a huge hug. “Bro, I am so glad to see you. This is some crazy rabbit hole we’ve fallen into.”

Leo looks like an extra in a period movie, wearing spit-polished leather shoes, a suit with a vest, a bow tie, and a watch on a fob. I don’t have time to question his style. I duck my head through the strap of my satchel and let the thing fall to the floor with a sigh. “You’ve got a mess outside and from what Bodog tells me, it’s only halftime. Where’s Granel?”

Reece’s attention snaps to me, completely ignoring his brother, but Wyatt keys in on the tension. “Funny you should ask. As soon as you left, he disappeared. All that talk about protecting his people…absolute crap. No one knows where he is. His men don’t know what to think, so I’ve given them something to think about.” He spreads his arms wide, winces, and lowers them, pressing his hand against his shoulder. It’s then I see a bloody bandage peeking out between his fingers, and he says with a shrug, “Meet their new leader.”

“You?” Halim asks as he peeks around Reece. “Why would they follow you?”

I see Hadrain take off his glasses and disappear into the hall as Wyatt stares down his nose at the boy. “Who’s the runt?”

“Halim. Be nice.” Who Reece is telling that to, his brother or the boy, is unclear. Most likely both.

Wyatt ignores the kid. “Apparently Granel wasn’t that popular with his men. Didn’t know jack about tactics.”

“Have you looked outside?” Halim asks. “It doesn’t look like you do, either.”

“Ha-ha, little buddy.” Wyatt grabs the back of Halim’s head and pulls him close. “Those aren’t my men.”

“Neither am I. Does that mean I’m going to end up dead too?”

“Nice kid you picked up,” Wyatt says to Reece. “Wouldn’t it be kinder to throw him back into the deep end of the stray pool?” He finally lets go and Halim stumbles back, irritation twisting his face as he glares at Wyatt. It’s not hard to imagine the torture plots running through Halim’s mind.

I’m not the only one thinking that. Reece whispers something in Halim’s ear, and then affectionately rubs his head before the boy wanders off. Reece turns his attention back to his brother. “Who are they?”

“Who aren’t they?” Wyatt motions to the map, where army units move in an ever-tightening circle. “Seems like everyone wants to join the let’s-kick-Teag’s-ass outing. We’re only able to hold our own with the help of Hadrain’s and the council’s combined magic.”

The mention of the council grabs my attention. “Where is the council?” Not that I’m upset they’re not here. After they tried to kill me, there’s no love lost between us. Just thinking about them makes my skin glow hot.

“I sent them to a safe haven. One dies, the spell is broken. I’m not taking any chances.”

I nod toward the door Hadrain went through. “What about—”

I don’t get to finish my sentence before he jumps in. “I’m protecting him.”

And I thought I was the only one with a superhero complex.

Hadrain comes back into the room, his face revealing his confusion, and he forces a smile. “Although I am pleased to see you all safe and sound, where is Kera?”

“Clearly not here,” Lucinda mews from her chair where she is grooming her hair with long, careful finger strokes, and then pauses a second before saying, “What could possibly be detaining her?”

A ghost of a smile appears, flashing her slightly long canines, and my gut sours. She has the attitude of a bored, spoiled woman. Why do I always get the feeling we’re her personal collection of mice she likes to maim before she eats?

I don’t care how lovesick Leo is over her. I stalk across the room and yank her halfway out of the chair. “What do you know?”

“Only words.” She looks from my hand on her arm to my face. Anger sparks behind her eyes for only a split second, but I see it. She sends a crackle of energy to buzz my hand. When I don’t let go, she tugs and lets out a snarl of warning.

“Where is my daughter?” Hadrain demands a little louder.

“In the Unknown,” Signe says, drawing all eyes to her.

The glasses in Hadrain’s hand slowly bend out of shape. He blinks, though he doesn’t see. I’m sure of it. He’s thinking like I do, of all the horrors Kera is suffering. “H-how?”

“Someone kidnapped her from the human realm.” Signe’s face has grown so pale, her freckles stand out. Her gaze flickers to mine almost apologetically.

It’s the truth. She has nothing to hide or to be sorry about. “They took her because they knew I’d follow her back here.”

“Taken? She was supposed to be safe in your realm.” Hadrain’s gaze wanders the room and stalls on Bodog. The little guy ducks into his cowl and shuffles backward. Kera’s father storms over to the suddenly whimpering dwarf. “Was it you?” he demands. “You stole her when she was a child. Did you do it again?”

Bodog shifts from pale to dark, trying to blend in with the color of the paneled walls, and I realize I don’t know him at all. “You were in prison because you stole a child?”

Lucinda stills. Her pink tongue darts out, like she’s licking cream from her lips. “Interesting.”

All this time he led me to believe he was unjustly imprisoned, that he was being persecuted for being different, when in fact he’s no better than a criminal.

Bodog knocks into the wall and curls against it, shoving the walking stick out as if it has the power to keep him safe. “I only wished to protect her.”

Hadrain grabs the stick. “Do not lie to me.”

The wood shifts in Hadrain’s hands. It creaks and moans until a familiar face appears in the grain. “He tells the truth, my friend.”

I know that crackly, dry voice. Still, I can’t believe it.

“Faldon?” Hadrain shoves the stick as far from him as his arms will allow. “What trick is this?”

“No deceit,” my renegade grandfather assures him. “Although at the time he didn’t know it, Dylan saved my soul by trapping my spirit in a tree. Bodog found me and fashioned this walking stick from one of the limbs so I can keep an eye on the boy.”

“Huh,” Wyatt snorts. “A talking stick.” He looks around. “And nobody else finds that a little weird?”

“Not anymore,” Reece says, though he folds his arms across his chest, clearly not comfortable with the idea of a soul getting trapped in a piece of wood. “Though the irony of Dylan having the ability to control fire and his grandfather being a piece of wood isn’t lost on me.”

Not only did Bodog lie, but he’d been helping my grandfather, the man who was ordered to kill me and nearly succeeded, to spy on me. What more is Bodog not telling me? Though firsts can’t lie, that limitation doesn’t seem to apply to any other creature in this realm.

Signe puts her arm around Hadrain and leads him to a nearby chair. She orders a soldier to fetch the older man a glass of wine. With the stick still gripped in his hands, he sits. He’s aged ten years in less than a minute. He catches Signe’s hand. “No one leaves the Unknown alive.”

“Rubbish.” Faldon’s face recedes into the grain and then reappears facing his friend. “They say that because no one has ever tried.”

“Hey,” Halim calls from his perch next to the map. He swipes his dirty hand across a section and it’s like a flap in a children’s picture book—push it aside and you see a hidden object, but on the map it’s a section of land. “There are a lot of black thingies over here.”

Wyatt rushes to the map and pushes Halim away. “What did you do? Don’t touch the map, kid.”

“I didn’t…well, not much. I only moved a few things around. We needed to cover this side better, because that’s where the Corlians are from…and you know they breed like rabbits. Fresh soldiers are coming.”

Wyatt glares at his brother. “Where’d you get this kid?”

“I’d listen to him.”

“My dad taught me chess.” Halim sneaks back to the map and moves a few more units around. “Which everyone knows is war on a grid. It’s all about position and power. We have great position and a good bit of power. Only an idiot can make a tangle of this.”

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Untangling this.”

Catching Halim’s hand in action, Wyatt shoves his face into the boy’s face and points at the map. “Does that even remotely resemble a grid? No grid. Don’t play chess with my men. This is not a game. Got that?”

The two start bickering, and I turn to Reece and Leo. “If Halim’s right, and a new wave of soldiers is on its way, we have to get Kera before this thing blows up and we’re trapped here. The griffin’s dead, but there has to be something else big enough to fly us into the Unknown. Any suggestions?”

Silence hovers over us, and then Reece shrugs. “How about flying monkeys?”

Leo frowns and pushes his hair out of his eyes. “Are you serious?”

“I’ve been dragged into a parallel realm where there are talking sticks, a magical prince, and a dwarf who acts like a mood ring. Flying monkeys make perfect sense.”

“Here’s a tip, bro. Unless you’ve seen a flying monkey, don’t offer it as an alternative.” Leo drops his head and rubs the back of his neck. “Flying monkeys. That is messed up.”

Reece’s eyebrows rise. “Sorry, Cranky Crab Pants. Miss your nap time today?”

“We need something bigger,” I say, steering them back to the problem at hand. “I wish we had a mongo flying lizard.”

“Or how about a Pegasus?” Reece offers. “They have griffins, doesn’t it stand to reason they have a flying horse or two?”

Leo’s head pops up. “I’m an idiot.”

I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want me to agree with him, but when I try to get him to expound on what he means, he rushes over to Lucinda, pulls her out of the chair, and points to me. “Don’t go anywhere until I get back.”

One moment they’re there, the next, they’re gone.

“What the…” Reece looks from where they were to me, his mouth hanging ajar.

Oops, forgot Reece has never seen Lucinda before. “Leo’s girlfriend isn’t human.”

Wyatt turns to us. “What was that all about?”

I shrug. “Wish I knew.”

Halim, who’s turned into a pint-sized general in the making, punches Wyatt’s shoulder. “Pay attention. If we move these over here, then we cut off their supply of men.”

“I already thought of that, but we don’t have enough manpower to move there without weakening these defenses.” He points to an area thick with black and green. “We’re leapfrogging over to here, which will cut off their tail. If I do it right, I can keep biting off chunks without them noticing.”

“Are Granel and Jason in on this together?” I ask. It’s the only plausible explanation. “Granel needs a leader and Jason’s ego fits Granel’s type.”

Hadrain pushes away the wine Signe holds out for him. “You know who is behind all this?”

“We came across a dying Corlian. He said their new leader was young, brutal, and reckless, and that he’s not from around here. That description fits Jason. He’s from my realm. I think he’s the one who’s been trying to get me here.” I recall the dream I had, how angry he was, and how insistent he was that I come find him.

“I’ve already bumped into him. He’s got a super-villain complex bigger than Darth Vader’s and it’s directed at me.” I no longer know what’s going on in Jason’s head, but I’m pretty sure for him, our friendship has become another disposable commodity.

Reece runs a hand against his forehead and looks at his brother. “Jason?”

“Carl’s kid, the one into wrestling.”

“That little shit is causing all this? How’d he get involved?”

“Me,” I say, though it irks me to admit it. “I brought him here. This is all my fault.”

The room grows silent. Condemning. I don’t blame them.

Wyatt coughs, breaking the quiet. “I don’t think the two of them are working together. Granel left before we knew about Jason.”

Halim jumps down from the chair he’s standing on. “The Corlian said their new leader was powerful. How did a regular human get magic?”

“Does it really matter?” I snap. I don’t want to say. It’s bad enough I brought Jason here, but to tell them I think I might’ve transferred some of my power into him when I saved his life…well, I’m sure they’d like me even less, if that were possible at this point.

“We humans are amazingly adaptable,” Wyatt says.

“Not that adaptable. Someone’s helping him,” Halim mutters.

Adaptable, yes. Invincible, no. I won’t make the mistake of underestimating Granel again. When he took off, he could have stumbled onto Jason and found a new hate mate. He didn’t run scared. He was looking for a better opportunity. And if it isn’t with Jason, then I have no idea who it is. Which scares me even more.

Reece moves to the table and peers at the map. “Does the map have the ability to single out individuals?”

Hadrain rises and steps toward the map. “Yes.”

The older man places his hand on the map key near the top left corner. His says a spell in a language I don’t know and the key changes, showing Granel’s name next to a bloodred dot, but the map doesn’t change.

“It appears as if he’s either dead or has left Teag.”

Or he’s hiding. I poke at the map. “Halim, what did you do to make the map move?”

“I touched it here…by accident,” he says, biting into the lie like a normal human boy, “and pushed up.”

I place my hand on the spot and move it up. A large space appears, hovering over the map with a dark line near the edge. But what’s even more interesting is a bloodred mark in the midst of the black. Hadrain points. “There he is. Granel.”

I pull my hand away and the space disappears. “Is this place familiar to anyone?”

It takes only a second, but Halim’s eyes grow wide. He slams his hand on the spot. “The Unknown.”

Kera was sent to the Unknown by someone who wants me dead. Jason wants me dead. At this very moment, Granel is in the Unknown. “It sure seems like Granel is working with Jason.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Hadrain says. “He was Navar’s lieutenant because he showed the same level of hate for humans. He would never work with one.”

But there’s no way he’s working alone. He doesn’t have the charisma to inspire like Navar. Granel is a follower through and through. All the signs point to Granel working in Jason’s camp. I’m with Halim. Jason has to be getting his power from someone, and Granel is all about the nastiest magic available. “Are you sure Granel and Jason don’t know each other?”

Hadrain changes the map key again, specifically asking it to show Granel and Jason’s forces. “If they are working together, the color will be the same.” Granel’s faction is bright red while Jason’s turns from black to a medium blue. “Same objective, different leaders.”

That doesn’t mean they’re not working together. Jason could’ve easily passed on the leadership of the Unknown to Granel, a guy who hates me as much as Jason does. Though I look for it, I don’t see Jason’s deep-blue marker anywhere on the map.

“Are there any other hidden spaces in Teag?” I swipe my hand over the map, searching for any.

“Only a few tiny ones where people keep their treasures.”

Frustrated, I push away from the map. “Find them and make sure Jason isn’t hiding in one of them.”

I don’t want to think he’s gone somewhere beyond Teag to drum up more manpower, but I wouldn’t put it past him. “Bring out maps of the neighboring kingdoms. We need to find him.”

There’s a rush. Maps are slapped onto every cleared surface as soldiers search for Jason.

“We’ll find him,” Wyatt says confidently.

Reece comes up to us and says in a quiet voice, “I know Jason. There’s no way that little prick is smart enough to do all this damage.”

“He’s not waging a war,” Wyatt injects. “Not a war any of these people are used to. He doesn’t care who lives or dies.”

“That’s because no one here is real to him.” I remember Jason commenting on that the first time we entered Teag. “He knows once their loyalty is given, they’ll do whatever he asks, even if it goes against their instincts to survive.”

“So what’s he doing?”

“All he wants is to prove he’s better than me.” I remember Jason’s face, how it contorted when he said killing me wasn’t personal. He actually believed it, like nothing he did in this realm was real. “He’s playing a game,” I say. “And right now he’s winning.”

An Unlikely Friendship

Kera’s dream state was growing stronger. At first she could wake herself up for a moment here, a moment there. Now she struggled to remember she was dreaming. She floated from one to another, and always she searched for Dylan.

Not this dream. Unlike the others that immediately felt real, it took a moment for this dream to take shape. When it finally did, she found herself in the middle of a group of sheep huddled together in a barn stall waiting to be clipped. In the corner, Jason’s wide shoulders took up too much space as he sheared a sheep, leaving a crest of wool along the top of its head and down its back. He turned off the electric shears and tossed them onto the dirt floor. Sitting back, he admired his work. “Cool, huh?”

A radio played in the background, and Kera could see a house in the distance, though it didn’t look familiar. “I don’t understand. You’re alive?”

His lips twitched. “Very much alive.”

“How is that possible?”

“It’s a long story, but in short…magic. You do believe in magic, don’t you?”

She frowned at his sarcastic attitude. Of course she did. “What are you doing here?” She’d never seen anyone she’d known in her dreams except Baun.

“Forced labor.” He let the ewe go and it bounded back into the waiting group. “What are you doing here? Have you finally had enough of Dylan?”

“What do you mean?”

He grabbed another sheep. “The whole magic power trip thing.”

“I don’t stay with him because of that.” She ran her fingers over the springy wool of the ewe in front of her. It tilted its sweet face up to her and bleated. She smiled and scratched its ear. “Even if he had none, I would love him.”

“Keep telling yourself that and you might start believing it. I know chicks. A dude’s got to have something special to offer or else he’s going home alone.”

“Dylan said you have talent.”

“I wrestle. Dad’s got me wired into some pretty hard-core training. It doesn’t leave a lot of room for much else.” He sent her a mischievous look. “But I make the time.” He grinned, his smile so charming, she found herself grinning back.

The back door to his house slammed shut and he glanced out the barn doors. “Shit.” He looked at all the sheep and his lips thinned. “He’s coming and I’m not near done.”

He pushed the sheep off his lap and grabbed Kera’s arm. He led her in a circle, his eyes searching for something. “You can’t be here.”

It wasn’t her choice to be here in the first place. “Where am I supposed to go?”

“I don’t care, just not here.”

“Jason!” His name shot through the barn. The man was right outside the door.

He shoved Kera into a big pile of wool and covered her. “Don’t come out or we’ll both get it.”

He straightened just as the man entered the barn. Kera instantly knew he was Jason’s father. They had the same barrel chests and thick necks. The man took a coiled leather strap off a nearby hook and entered the stall, swinging the knotted end, which bumped the sheep out of his way. His hard eyes raked the poor creatures. “What the hell have you been doing in here?” He pointed to the ewe with the odd shearing. “What kind of stupid, lame-ass job is that?”

“I was just—”

“Shut up!” The man’s thick neck turned red and his gaze pinned Jason to the spot. “I send you in here to do a man’s job and this is what I get?”

Jason shot a quick glance Kera’s way then looked down at his feet. “Maybe you should have done it,” he muttered.

His dad gave a nearby sheep a vicious bump that had it bleating sadly. “What did you say?”

Jason took a step back. “Nothing.”

His dad worked his way toward him. “No. I think you should tell me.” He suddenly slapped the back of Jason’s head, jarring it forward. “Spit it out, boy.”

“Nothing.”

The knot on the end of the strap zipped out and smacked Jason in the ribs. He grunted and jumped back. “Stop, Dad.”

“Tell me,” his father insisted and sent the hard leather knot flying. It hit the inside of Jason’s left thigh.

Jason grabbed the spot and hobbled out of the way. “Dad, stop!”

“Not until you tell me.” The knot whipped out again, slamming into Jason’s back. He grunted.

Kera huddled deeper into the wool, horrified by the sight of Jason’s dad hitting him again and again, taunting him. “Wanna be a big man? You never will. Not until you can stand up to me. But you won’t, will you? You’re too scared.”

“I’m not scared of you,” Jason gritted out even though he threw his arm over his head and flinched every time his dad got too close.

His dad grabbed Jason and twisted him into a headlock. He squeezed so hard, Jason’s face turned purple. With a hard hit to the face, his dad dropped Jason to the floor and kicked dirt in his face.

Jason coughed and rubbed the dirt out of his eyes. His dad hovered over him, hands on his bent knees. “You should be scared of me. I’m bigger and better than you. Winners get the job done. If you want to be a winner, you’re going to have to fight for it. Get mean. Do what others won’t.”

He straightened and watched his son lie beaten on the floor. He spat on him and then kicked him in the ribs. “No pain, no gain, son. Get the job done. I’ll be back in an hour. That’s plenty of time. If you’re still not done, expect a real whipping.”

Jason didn’t move. Not when his dad left and not when Kera finally climbed out of the wool. She gently nudged the sheep out of her way and knelt by Jason. A circular bruise was forming along his cheek, as well as one across his collarbone. He finally turned his head and looked at her. “What are you staring at?”

She eased her arm beneath his shoulders and helped him sit with the wall supporting his back. He slowly pulled his shirt off. The damage she couldn’t see before glowed angry red and purple amid older bruises dotting his body. His breath hissed in as he turned one way, then the other, calmly counting the new bruises. Kera inched her hand into his and squeezed his fingers.

When he was done, he turned to her, his eyes void of emotion. “One of these days, I’m going to show him…and everyone like him who thinks they’re better than me.”

“You should leave. Get away from him.”

He shook his head. “Got regionals coming up. We’ve got a plan, and I’m going to win. I always do.”

Kera didn’t know what to say. Pity and fear mingled. She wanted to pull him out of there, but the edges of the dream started to cloud and before she could take her next breath, she was spinning out of Jason’s dream only to land in an open field outside of Ainsbury Cross.

The transition left her gasping. Her encounter with Jason quickly faded until this new dream she was in became her reality. It was a country fair day. People milled about listening to music, dancing, and competing in contests of skill.

She was close to home, and as she moved through the crowd, she searched for someone she knew. Suddenly a bow and a quiver of arrows were slung over her back and a familiar figure stood beside her.

Baun gave her a slight bow and smiled. “You look fetching in your shooting outfit. I can see why my son is drawn to you.”

Kera fidgeted with the buttons on her woodland-green jacket. The matching full skirt and flowing white top were simple, yet the cincher she wore was far too tight. She put her hand to her waist. “Nice as they are, these clothes aren’t mine. They’re ridiculous. I can barely breathe.”

Baun held out his hand and waited for her to take it. “Your abhorrence of fashion makes you a unique woman, yet your position in society dictates you dress the part. I suppose that is why you imagined the clothes you’re wearing and not,” he nods to a commonly dressed woman hawking flowers, “hers.”

She placed her hand in his, and he tucked it within the crook of his arm. “I suppose you’re right,” she admitted.

They moved from juggler to dancer to baker to artist. It was a pleasant day. One made for smiles and lighthearted conversation. Yet her dream of Jason sat heavy at the back of her mind. He had clearly been a prisoner to his father’s whims, just like she had once. Where she had broken free, Jason had been broken. “I believe I should not have to conform to others’ expectations. Doing so is a lie. It betrays who I really am.”

Baun purchased a sweet berry tart for her and one for himself. “Haven’t you been doing that your whole life? Your father even gave you a sliver of his magic to fool everyone else. Even I didn’t know.”

She bit into the pie and found it the perfect combination of sweet and tart. Between licking the juice from her fingertips, she said, “It was for my protection.”

“But now you are what you have always desired.” He pulled out a handkerchief and presented it to her. “A true first. To be anything less…well, what is the point of living? Even your friend Jason knows that.”

She slowly wiped at her lips. He knew about Jason? The thought didn’t sit well with her. Exactly what was he after?

He noticed her mood shift and steered their conversation to a less worrisome topic. “I have heard of your expertise with the bow and arrow.”

She wasn’t quite ready to let it go. “You seem to know a lot about me. How is that possible? You are a prisoner, chained like a criminal.”

He chuckled and finished his tart. “I hear much from my captors. They are inquisitive by nature, as well as murderous little cheats, but they love a good story. You have given them many over the years.”

She offered back the handkerchief, but he waved it away and she tucked it into her jacket pocket. “Unlike you, I have led a normal life, not exciting enough to draw anyone’s interest.”

“You caught Dylan’s interest, and he’s far from ordinary.”

“He loves me for who I am.” He loved her before he even knew she was real.

“Keep in mind, you were raised in an unorthodox manner.”

“Unorthodox for a first. I’m afraid in the human realm I am nothing very special.”

“Nothing special?” He stopped, his body suddenly rigid, his jaw tense. “The human realm is a spectacle of massive absurdity. One human trying to outdo another, not satisfied until they have embarrassed themselves not only in front of family and friends, but the whole world. Never say you are less than they. You are ten times—” He cut his tirade short.

The people around them had all stopped what they were doing to stare, blinking like owls after a mole. He drew in a deep breath and tightened his grip on her hand. “Forgive me. I hate hearing anyone with such obvious talents denigrate themselves. Please, show me your talent in the next competition.”

Immediately, a line of archers was before her, and beyond it, a dozen targets. Baun urged her forward and she took her place. They were allotted three arrows. A man shouted for the crowd to quiet and held up his hand. Kera notched her arrow along with the other archers and pulled the string back, resting it near her cheek. When the man lowered his arm, she released the string and the arrow shot forward, landing dead center. The other archers did passably well, but none as well as her. Polite applause sounded.

The man raised his hand again. She positioned the next arrow, and when his hand lowered, she let go. Once again her arrow shot forward. And when it hit, it spliced her first arrow in two. Ohhs and ahhs raced through the crowd. Never had Kera hit a target in the same spot, and never had she hit her own arrow.

The man raised his hand again, and when everyone was set, let it drop. This time Kera closed her eyes and let the arrow go, not worrying if the arrow would hit its mark or not. The crowd burst into thunderous applause.

Baun’s whispered words entered her ear. “Thus are what dreams are made of.”

She opened her eyes to see the third arrow had spliced the second one in two also. She lowered her bow and felt oddly empty.

“What is wrong? You won the golden arrow.”

In her hand she held a shiny gold arrow, her name inscribed along the shaft. When had they given it to her? It was then she remembered where she was. None of this was real. She held her prize out to Baun. “Take it. The win is not a fair one.”

“You won. I saw you.”

“This is all a dream.”

“Yes. And anything and everything is possible in a dream.”

“I want reality.” The word flew out on a catch, though she refused to cry in public.

Baun paused as if she were an oddity he’d never encountered. “Do you?”

“Yes.” She dropped the bow and golden arrow on the ground and faced him. “It is said you have more power than anyone. Is there any way you can help me wake up?”

Her question raced into the air, shaking the calm day. Gray clouds rushed overhead and thunder cracked in the distance. The light breeze steadily grew. Baun stood against the sudden influx of weather, impervious to its attack, his attention centered solely on Kera. “It won’t be easy. Nor pleasant once it’s done. Do you remember the last time you were awake?”

The vision of the multi-armed boy weaving a tight cocoon around her body made her shiver. She nodded and looked away. “Yes. I remember.”

People sped past, some knocking into Kera on their way to shelter. The wind rose, whipping her hair into her face. “I want to try. Will you help me?”

Thunder rolled closer and a crackle of light split the sky. Baun didn’t even flinch. “What do you plan to do once you wake?”

“Just…live.”

Her answer seemed to please him. “And so you shall.”

As the wind ripped through the open field, Baun faced Kera and held out his hands. She slipped her fingers in his and watched as he tapped into the remainder of his power. What she felt shocked her. What little he had was more than she ever dreamed of possessing. It rushed into her, sending her out of the dream and into consciousness.

The burrow walls wept, dripping and splashing into stagnant puddles along the edges. She was bound as far as her chest now, and she wasn’t alone. The boy’s back was to her, and she could hear him…chewing. His arms were in constant motion, turning whatever he held up to his mouth. She didn’t want to know what he was eating, afraid it would send her into a screaming fit.

She wiggled her fingers within the gooey interior of the cocoon, stretching it, sliding it inch by slow inch down her body. When it settled over her waist, she wriggled an arm free and started to do the same with the other. It was then she dared a peek at the boy. He sat frozen, his arms as still as a spider waiting for a fly.

He knew what she was doing. Without turning around, he began to sing. She tried not to listen, tried to fight the effects of his magic, but the lullaby slipped into her brain. A tear crawled down her cheek, and she called to Dylan, sending him her love one last time. Soon she stopped struggling and her eyes slowly closed as her breathing deepened.

Dreams fell all around her and she desperately grabbed for one and then another, but they slipped through her fingers time and time again. A new sort of nightmare began, one where she lived in a black void and could only watch as possibilities rushed by, tantalizingly close, but never attained.

Following

The low murmur of half a dozen soldiers as they search the maps drones in my ears. Reece and I have been “properly” dressed in button-down shirts—though without the detachable collars—lightweight jackets, finely pressed slacks, and dress shoes.

I’m sitting in a chair, my eyes closed, willing Leo back. The stress of not knowing where he’s gone or when he’s coming back is eating me alive. What if he’s gotten into trouble? That means I’m just sitting here, when I should be doing something. The thought burns my bones in an alarming way. I have to calm down. Hadrain wouldn’t be impressed if I suddenly combust and burn down his home.

I listen to the clock tick. I don’t bother looking when Wyatt and Halim raise their voices. Only when Halim smacks Wyatt on the forehead and calls him a useless piece of pond scum do I crack my eyes open and watch along with everyone else as Wyatt picks the boy up by the scruff of his neck and slams him in a chair facing the wall. “Time out. A human invention for bratty little kids. Stay put and no talking until I say you can move.”

Halim’s out of the chair and back to bugging Wyatt in less than five minutes.

Reece uncrosses his feet and shifts his weight restlessly in the chair opposite mine. He suddenly stands. “I’m going to find Signe.”

He’s across the room and out the door before I can blink.

Signe had left over thirty minutes ago to change and then check on Bodog, who’d opted to return outside. Hadrain’s glares even made me uncomfortable for the little guy. I still have a hard time believing he’d taken Kera when she was a child. Faldon said that Bodog had brought her straight to him, so she was never in any danger, but that he thought Hadrain wasn’t fit to father her made me nervous. The little man had never been wrong before.

I set my mind to developing all sorts of reasons why Hadrain was a bad father. The only thing I come up with is that Kera had once said her father was an intellectual, more interested in hypothetical scenarios than reality. Plus the fact that he tried to marry his daughter to a power-hungry warlord who tried to kill us both. Other than that brainless move, by all appearances Hadrain cares deeply for his daughter.

As I sit, I hear Kera’s faint call. My eyes pop open, and I’m startled to realize it’s been a while since I’ve heard her. I try to connect to her, but I can’t. How is it I have an overabundance of magic at my fingertips, yet I’m stuck waiting on a human. My irritation climbs even as I tell myself to calm down.

Another thirty minutes passes, and I’m not sure how Jason’s done it, but none of the maps show where he is. A quiet thread has begun, saying he’s dead. Jason would love that, get us to let down our guard only to pop back up twice as cocky and bent on killing me and everyone around me.

“He’s not dead,” I say and push myself from the overly cushioned chair and pace. “Don’t ask me how I know. I just do.”

“Fine.” Wyatt pushes the latest map off the table, and I watch it flutter to the floor. “Then he’s a little coward hiding in a hole while his army creeps up on us.”

We hear the sound of running and Reece punches the door open, getting all our attention. “She’s gone. Signe’s gone.”

“Are you sure?” Maybe she’s in the bathroom. Mom was known to camp out in our bathroom, forcing me to dash outside and find a discreetly located bush to pee on.

“She’s gone to the bridge.”

“Why?” Hadrain asks. “She cannot cross. None of us can.”

“We were talking to that ugly little guy earlier…”

“Bodog…” I offer.

“Right, and he said magic is set against magic. Like at Signe’s caves where only those without magic can find them.” He looks at me. “There is a bridge, but there is no bridge. It’s there, but who around here would be able to cross it? Get it?”

God, I hate Bodog’s hidden speech. “Now I do.”

“I’ll admit,” Reece says, “the idea is possible, but he’s crazy, right? Except Signe didn’t think so. She thinks the Unknown works the same way as the caves.”

“Why would anyone, with or without magic, want to go into the Unknown if it’s as bad as everyone says?” Wyatt asks.

“They wouldn’t. It was created to keep those they disliked in. Bodog said most of those sent there have some form of magic that keeps them there.”

“So she thinks she can just walk across that bridge and enter the Unknown?” Halim smacks his hands on his face and groans.

“She’s a woman. Of course she does.” Reece grabs the sword we took from one of the dead soldiers outside the gates. “I’m going after her.”

Halim crosses the room, stands in front of Reece, and pulls out a heavy-handled knife. “If you’re going, I’m going with you.”

Reece looks around the room accusingly. “Where’d he get another knife?”

Halim snorts and tucks it back from where he pulled it. “I’m not dumb enough to only carry one.”

A heavy sigh escapes Reece and he puts a hand on the boy’s head. “You’re staying here with Wyatt.”

That babysitter announcement gets Wyatt’s full attention. “Dude! You can’t expect—”

“You’re staying here,” Reece says, making it clear he won’t tolerate an argument. “You have a job to do.”

“You’re more important.” The break in Wyatt’s voice reminds me he only recently found Reece, and it’s obvious he’s not yet willing to let his brother go and maybe lose him again.

Reece turns Halim around and pushes him back toward the table. “I’m one guy, Wyatt. You have the opportunity to protect hundreds of thousands and make a real difference.”

Wyatt’s not ready to let it go. “You can’t go alone. You need backup.”

I have no problem stepping forward. “I’ll be his backup. I’m done staying put.” I’ve given Leo as much time as I’m willing to give.

“You can’t, cross.”

“And for all we know, Signe can’t either. But if she’s right, I want to be there.” Maybe there’s something I can do. There’s got to be.

Wyatt shoves all the other maps away and slaps down the map of Teag that shows where the enemy has retreated to. We have to go around a huge contingent, but Halim shows us one of his shortcuts, and if we’re quick and quiet enough, we should be able to sneak by.

Hadrain clears his throat. “Faldon mentioned you now have his power. Whenever he needed me, he would send up a fireball.” He moves his finger from the manor house to the bridge. “It’s far, but send it out at the right angle and we should see it.” We all stare at one another. We’re as prepared as we can be.

Reece and I resupply the bags Signe gave us at the caves and secure them over our shoulders. Under heavy guard, we make our way to the gates. Once outside the fortified walls, Reece and I find the bodies are being cleared, mostly burned after they’re stripped of anything valuable. The smell of death has me choking. Reece grabs a couple rags from somewhere and hands me one, and we tie them across our faces.

I see two men toss another body onto one of the huge funeral pyres, and I wince as the flames lick at the dead man’s flesh. The sight of so many bodies being reduced to ash is disturbing. “Burning them in the open like this seems wrong.”

“People dying for no reason is wrong, and from what Signe has told me, most of these men didn’t have a choice. Their leaders ordered their deaths. How I see it, letting good men rot in the open is worse.”

I still don’t understand why the firsts are bound so tightly to their word. It’s a flaw I’m glad I don’t possess, and because I can break my word and lie and deceive at will, it’s the reason they marked me for death. But who is the bigger man? Someone who has no choice in his actions, or someone who chooses to keep his word, not deceive others, and tell the truth? “A man is only a man if he still acts knowing the end result may bring about his death.”

Reece stares at me, his eyes narrowing against the billow of smoke and ash. “Sounds like you’ve been hanging around Wyatt too much, but I don’t disagree.”

We run through the area and into the forest. When we’re far enough away from the funeral pyres, I take off my makeshift mask and stuff it into my pocket. All around us, there isn’t a patch of earth that isn’t charred, trampled, or ripped up.

Reece rips his off and breaks out in a sweat. “What was she thinking going off by herself?”

“I don’t think she did. Did you see Bodog?”

“No.” He sighs. “I don’t know if I’m glad about that or more worried.”

“He’s probably taken her underground, which is a lot safer than what we’re doing.”

Reece seems to chew on that as he stows his mask, though his body is still taut and ready for a fight.

There’s nothing we can do but keep moving and hope we find Signe before anyone else does. We travel deeper into the forest, and it’s not long before we hear the enemy. We aren’t even a mile from the manor and its defenses, and by the size of the encampment, you wouldn’t know they took heavy losses.

“If we take Halim’s shortcut and shoot over there,” I point toward the right where the woods grow thicker, “they shouldn’t know we’re even here.”

We take Halim’s shortcut, and almost make it completely around the enemy camp when we hear a loud, definite snap like twigs breaking under a foot. We slow and I make a full turn, unable to determine from which direction the sound came.

Reece stops next to me. “I don’t see anything. It could’ve been an animal.”

He barely gets the words out when a succession of arrows fly toward us. We hit the ground. When the area clears, I look at Reece, who’s got an arrow sticking out of his shoulder. With a throaty growl, he yanks it free and tosses it into the bushes.

“You okay?” I ask, amazed at how calmly he’s acting.

He pulls his hand away from his shoulder, where a hole the size of a nickel seeps blood. “I’m not dead. Well…not yet.”

I motion him my way, and as we zigzag through the woods, we hear footsteps behind us. We dive behind a cluster of trees and Reece winces. “I think it’s safe to say we’re not as clever as we thought.”

Heat builds in my bones, and I step out, sending fireballs into the men following us. I blast a huge tree and it explodes, sending chips of wood in every direction and fire into the air. I dive back behind the trees and hunker down next to Reece as arrows zip past. He looks from me to my hands. “Do your grandparents know you can do that?”

“Sort of, now hold on.” I grab him and send us up into the trees for cover. Arrows follow us. I hear the enemy calling to one another as they run toward the disaster I’ve caused. We have to leave before they organize themselves.

“Trust me?” I ask Reece.

He winces and nods past the pain. His shoulder is bleeding profusely, and it wouldn’t surprise me if it gets infected.

“Relax and let me do all the work.” The limb we’re situated on inches back, and when there’s enough tension, we shoot forward to the next tree. We land and are pitched immediately to the next tree and the next and the next.

At a safe distance, we drop back to the ground. Reece catches his breath, and all the color drains from his face. I’m not sure he knows he’s collapsed and is rocking back and forth as he holds his shoulder. Blood seeps past his fingers and stains the left side of his T-shirt a deep red.

“Dude.” I kneel in front of him and help him lie back. His eyes are glazed with pain and his breathing is shallow. “This is bad. I can help, but it’s not going to be pleasant.”

He grunts, closes his eyes, and stretches his T-shirt over his shoulder to expose the wound. I take that as an okay. The hole is ragged, sliced deeply into his muscle. I position myself in a way that braces my legs and weight on his body to keep him still. Then, just like I etched my name in the swing on grandma’s porch, I slowly run my finger along the wound, searing it as best I can.

The smell of burning flesh and blood permeates the air. Reece stiffens. His eyes roll back in his head. For a split second, I think he’s going to pass out. I pull away and he lets out a low deep growl.

I tear off his sleeve and make a rough bandage out of the stretchy cloth. “Can you keep going?”

“Yes.”

His short answer tells me two things. He’s tough and he’s determined. I pull him to his feet and we take off. Everywhere we turn there is some form of destruction. Fallen trees, razed homes, scorched fields.

Jason’s been busy acting out his dysfunctional issues.

When we finally approach the bridge, the area is crawling with soldiers.

I pull Reece down and he sags against a tree, his head in his hands. “Should have seen this coming, but I didn’t.”

“Why would they camp here? There’s nothing here for them.” And then I remember Halim pointing to the map and the thick line of black within the Unknown. “Jason. He’s going to unleash what’s in the Unknown. That has to be it.”

Reece rubs his face and stares up through the tree limbs. “What is his problem? I get that his dad is a piece of work, but that little prick is going above and beyond the tantrum stage.”

“I don’t know,” I lie. This isn’t the time or place to confess how I abandoned Jason, leaving him in a panic buried within a tangle of tree roots. Some friend I am. I took a perfectly decent guy and made him into a raging psychopath.

“Wait here.” I scooch on my belly to the edge of the clearing. My nose is full of the loamy smell of forest debris. I quickly do a head count. It isn’t as large a contingent as I first thought—more than twelve, less than twenty—and they’re heavily bogged down with setting up the tents and arranging all the gear of camp life. There’s no sign of Jason, but when I glance toward the bridge, I see something that has me squinting to be sure—Signe and Bodog sneaking toward the bridge. It’s only a matter of time before the soldiers see them.

I hustle back to Reece, and when he sees me, he pushes to his feet. “What?”

I must look as panicked as I feel. “She’s with Bodog and they’re going for the bridge.” We scramble back to the clearing and hide behind some trees. I point to where I saw them, and a few seconds later we see them dart between the trees.

Reece ducks back out of sight. “She’s going to get herself killed.”

“I’ll deal with the soldiers.” I motion toward his shoulder. “How do you feel?”

He tests its mobility and winces. “Been better, but I’ll manage.”

“Okay, then.” I’m not going to argue with him. “You run as fast as you can and get Signe.” I nod at the sword he’s carrying. “Tell me you know how to use that.”

“In theory.”

I sigh, not at all surprised. “Don’t use it unless you have to. And if you find yourself in trouble, give it to Bodog.”

“You’re kidding.” He acts like I just told him Bodog is my half brother I’ve had hidden Quasimodo-style until now.

All Reece knows is Bodog the whimpering little man. He hasn’t seen what I have. “I’m dead serious. He knows exactly how to use it.”

Reece reluctantly gives me his word, and I nod. “Good luck. On three.”

Reece crouches, and I feel my muscles tense, ready to spring into action. “One. Two. Three.”

We both shoot out of the trees. Reece’s arms pump and legs spin in a mad dash for Signe. I barge right into the camp, pull out my sword, and slice into the first man I see. I dodge, then turn back on the next guy, killing him with one blow. Dodge and strike. Kick, spin, and jab. I make my way through the camp like an angel of death until I’m standing amid a pile of bloodied and broken bodies.

When I turn to find Reece and Signe, I don’t see them. Only Bodog stands, leaning on the stick that holds the spirit of Faldon. My grandfather’s face appears in the wood, and the scratchy dry words that crawl from the wooden lips make me feel sick to my stomach. “You’ve become quite the expert at killing, Dylan. Well done.”

I storm over to Bodog and point my flaming sword at Faldon’s shrinking face. “I don’t enjoy it. Not like you.” Then I round on Bodog. “Where’d they go?”

He strokes the stick as if he’s consoling Faldon, and glares at me. I’m beginning to think he’s not going to tell me when he points a long, knobby finger toward the bridge.

It’s like someone punched me in the chest. They went into the Unknown. Without me. “How are they going to survive?”

Never Let Go

Time. It slipped along, sometimes quickly, sometimes excruciatingly slowly, dipping into day and night at will, without reason.

How long Kera floated in the black abyss, reaching for dreams she couldn’t catch, she had no way of knowing. But finally, a dream came near and she latched on, falling into it with a sigh of relief.

When she opened her eyes, she was immediately aware of two things. She was dressed in clothes from Dylan’s realm—jeans, T-shirt, and tennis shoes. No pinching corset or uncomfortable shoes. And she stood in Faldon’s kitchen beside the long oak table with his chemistry tubes and vials hissing and dripping away. A sense of home washed over her weary nerves.

The last time she was here was with Dylan. If she closed her eyes, she could see him. When she opened her eyes, the room was empty, and only a lingering sense of Dylan remained. She felt a pinch to her heart and rubbed her arms as if to warm herself, though she wasn’t cold.

She stepped to the table and ran her hand along the old oak top, then looked around. Everything was as it should be. A bird stand loomed in one corner. A huge sink gobbled up the space of another, and between the two, a massive oven intruded into the square footage of the kitchen. Pots and pans and dried herbs hung from the rafters. There was the scent of life and death here, but that didn’t alarm her. Faldon had been their healer. His herbs and magic were sought by everyone.

She heard something, like a man clearing his throat. “Faldon?”

She took a step toward the door that separated the kitchen from the rest of the house. But for the makeshift laboratory, the house was achingly quiet. When she reached the door, a tiny mew came from the opposite side. Faldon was a great believer in rehabilitating creatures their world had damaged or considered dangerous. He called it his great social experiment. Always the scientist. She missed him terribly.

Kera opened the door and walked down the short hall to the living area. Peeking inside, she saw a fire in the fireplace and a man sitting in a chair. He sat at an angle that hid his identity, only revealing the swishing white tail of a cat he held on his lap.

Kera paused, somehow knowing it wasn’t Faldon. She must have made a noise, because the man leaned forward, and the cat hissed upon seeing her.

“Hush now,” Baun scolded, yet he swept his hand down the cat’s back before scratching the animal under the chin. “She’s no threat to you.” He set the cat on the floor and stood, waving Kera forward to a nearby matching chair. “Come in, please. I could use the company.”

He was dressed like a model from the human realm in a white T-shirt, jeans, a dark-brown leather jacket, and a pair of casual shoes. The only thing ruining the look were a few strands of white cat hair clinging to his pants, but he quickly brushed them off.

The white cat looked suspiciously similar to Lucinda, and it gave her a sudden chill. Lutines were crafty creatures and never to be trusted. Giving the cat a wide berth, Kera approached Baun. “Who is that?”

“I found her curled by the fire when I showed up. She’s quite an affectionate piece of fluff. She jumped in my lap the moment I sat down.” He motioned Kera to the chair beside his. When she sat, he smiled warmly. “I am glad to see you. You are far more interesting a companion than a purring dust bunny.”

“Thank you.” She tucked her hands beneath her thighs and nervously swung her feet. Though firsts were incapable of lying, at times there was a hint of insincerity in Baun’s tone. “What are you doing here?

“This is my home. My true home, remember? Faldon is my father.”

“Of course.” She felt silly now. “Has much changed?”

“Nothing, but this is Teag. Change comes to us on broken wings.”

She stopped swinging her feet and tilted her head, unsure how to respond.

“It is a metaphor. We have so many miraculous things, but lack the technology the human realm worships. If only we had both.”

“The speed at which the humans live life…it’s exhausting.”

“It’s exciting.”

“And damaging.”

“You experienced only a small portion of their realm and already you have determined what it values is—”

“Disposability.” The word popped out before she could stop it. Dylan was a prime example. His father neglected him. His mother abandoned him. His old friends forgot him. From the moment of his birth, he was a child without a real home.

Baun shook his head and tsked his tongue. “You have become jaded.”

“It doesn’t matter. My life is nearly gone.”

“Let’s not speak of sad things. Tell me, what is your one wish?”

She used to have so many. Now it felt pointless. “I don’t wish to chase shadows anymore. I want to see Dylan again.”

He stood and held out his hand. She took it and rose. His face turned grave, his voice sad. “If I could grant that wish, I would, but I cannot. Is there another, one I can fulfill? Something you love above all else?”

“I love to dance.”

“What is your favorite color?”

“Red. The red of my father’s roses.”

A smile lightened his face. “My favorite as well.”

He pulled her toward the front of the house. They were only a few steps away when the doors swept open, allowing them to step into an expansive ballroom filled with gaily dressed people. White marble shone from the floors to the columns that were sculpted with all manner of flora and fauna. Red roses burst from hanging vases along the walls and were stationed at every table. A smile touched Kera’s lips and she turned to Baun. He was dressed in an elaborate charcoal-colored suit any gentleman of his era would wear with pride, his ascot full, his waistcoat finely made. He handed his top hat and cane to a footman while another swept her cloak from her shoulders to reveal a glimmering red ball gown more beautiful than any she’d ever seen.

Baun swept her onto the dance floor, where they twirled along with the other couples. She changed partners with each dance, but somehow always ended up near Baun by the song’s end. She laughed from the sheer joy of the moment. It felt like forever and like the moment had only begun when Baun pulled her to a table laden with all manner of food and drinks.

“If you were my daughter, I would say you are a blushing new flower in dire need of watering. Need I ask if you are enjoying yourself?”

“Never. It’s lovely here.” She sipped and nibbled under his watchful eye, commenting on the beauty of the room and the couples around them. Baun had a fine wit and wicked tongue that made her laugh outright.

The lights suddenly dimmed and the edges of their dream blurred. Kera knew what that meant. Any moment she could be yanked away.

Baun bowed over her hand and smiled. “It has been a pleasant distraction, our shared dreams.”

“Why do people hate you so?” It was an honest question, for she couldn’t imagine hating him, ever.

His smile widened and he dropped her hand. “I am not hated. Only two men sought to control me. Your father and mine. They sent me here because they feared the passion I had for my people.”

That assessment was not quite right. She took a tiny step back and muttered, “You went on a killing spree.”

His face didn’t register surprise, hurt, or anger. It was as calm as the moonless night sky. “I punished those who threatened my people. What I did was no worse than what people do in any war. Innocent people are inadvertently killed. It isn’t right, but it happens.”

A shiver ran down her back. She concentrated on twisting a loose thread dangling from the beading that decorated the dress around her waist. He seemed so earnest, like there was nothing dishonorable about what he did. Was he right? Had his motives been pure?

The thread popped and the tiny red beads bounced along the marble floor like spilled blood. Kera pressed her hand to the spot, hoping no more fell. “Oh no. I’ve ruined the dress and it was so beautiful.”

“It matters not at all.” He pulled her hand away, and the dress was as it had always been. Searching the floor, she didn’t see any beads. Why was he able to manipulate the dreams so much better than her? It didn’t seem right, like she should pay more attention.

Another shiver seized her.

“Do not let what I said bother you. I am not proud of the deaths that occurred. I believed they were unavoidable, but they were never wanted.” He pulled back and in a flash procured a glimmering honey-colored shawl that smelled deliciously sweet and felt as soft as butter. He settled it around her shoulders. “I have news, though I debated whether or not to say anything. I believe Dylan is trying to find you.”

Her heart lightened instantly until she noticed the sensation of something wet and uncomfortable clinging to her skin, a sensation that had steadily been climbing. She swallowed and splayed her fingers against her collarbone as if to protect it. The boy was almost done. She could feel the cocoon settling around her neck. She refused to give in to the fear that threatened to consume her and forced a smile to her lips. “What else did the pux tell you?”

Baun took her hand, his countenance suddenly somber. “Teag is suffering. If only they would release me. The chains that bind me in my cell dampen my nature, but as king, my power is nearly unlimited. If I were free, I would return the dark souls to where I sent them and bring peace.” He closed his eyes and took a deep, heartfelt breath. “Peace. It is what I crave not just for myself, but for my people.”

She knew he could do what he claimed. She’d felt his power herself. Had marveled at its strength even in his weakened state. “Does Dylan have the same power as you?”

He tucked her arm within the crook of his and escorted her on a stroll around the dance floor. Leaning close, he said, “Yes and no. As of yet, Dylan doesn’t have the power I do. Only when he is king will it transfer from me to him. Yet he is my heir. The moment he stepped into Teag, he took on the obligation of reigning in my absence. It is his birthright. His duty.”

She twirled a fluted glass between her fingers and thought of how the council had marked Dylan for death without ever having met him. “They refused him. Tried to kill him.”

“But he is still alive.” She heard the pride in Baun’s voice and noticed how animated he became when he talked of Dylan. He tightened his fist in front of him. “He must take the throne. Hesitance is seen as a sign of weakness.”

Baun was anything but weak. Surely he could help her. Her time was nearly up. She had to dare the question, not as a wish, but as a possibility.

“Is there nothing you can do to—” She broke eye contact, realizing she treaded in uneasy waters. This was the Lost King. He had, by his own admission, unlimited power when he was not chained. She felt guilty for what she was about to ask when so many more needed him, but she was desperate and he had been so kind, so unlike what everyone had led her to believe. She swallowed and forced the words out. “…nothing you can do to help me escape?”

“I—” His lips tightened and his open manner grew grim. The lights dimmed even more and the people faded into the edges of the dream, leaving them suddenly alone beneath the glimmering chandelier. “There is one thing…but…it is never done.”

“What is it?”

He looked away, clearly uncomfortable, but she pressed him. “Please. I am dying.”

He pulled away. “I know.”

He paced in front of her, his frown deep and brooding. He started to tell her several times, but swallowed back the words, until he stopped and swung to face her. “I can force myself into people’s minds, embed ideas, but it is forbidden. It controls people beyond a vow of loyalty, and if I use it, I can and will be put to death.”

Death. Why must every turn lead to death?

The ceiling crumbled away as she sank to the floor. She didn’t care when the marble beneath her gave way to grass. She stared woodenly ahead like a lost and unloved doll thrown into a darkened corner.

He shook his head and sat on the ground beside her. A king, brought to his knees by her pitiable state. “I am weak. I have been beaten down these many years until there is no fire left in me.”

“That is not true,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve seen it grow with every one of our visits. It gave me hope. I thought maybe…”

It didn’t matter. Her time was at an end. He had tried so hard to make her last moments beautiful and she was ruining it.

She was about as terrified as she’d ever been. Her life was painstakingly being wrapped inside a slowly hardening shell where she would eventually die. Alone. Her memories siphoned for the enjoyment of some creature.

“You are sad and it is my fault.” The muscles in his jaw tightened. “I wish I could explain. My feelings are complicated in the matter. I want to help you, but doing so will—”

“You will instantly be put to death.” She found a four-leaf clover nestled against the rough edge of the marble floor and held it out to him. “My life is over, and your life will go on.” She pressed the clover in his hand. “It is not your fault.”

“All we need is luck.” He touched the delicate green leaves with his finger. “I could…”

She waited for him to continue. Her breath suspended painfully in her chest.

He stood, walked a few steps away, then turned back. “I could help you do it, give you power to implant an idea, but it would have to be someone who needed you. Loved you. It’s too risky otherwise.”

She held out her hand and he helped her to her feet. “My father.”

“Yes.” He nodded slowly, almost hesitantly, a spark of hope springing to his face. “He has the power and ability to do much.”

“He has nothing like your power. In fact, there is really only one person who can save me.” She stared straight into his eyes. They were so warm. How could people ever call him a monster? “You.”

His face, with all the hope he’d been feeling, fell. “And to do so, I must be free.” He shook his head. “It will never work. Your father will never agree to free me. This I know.”

She clasped his hands in hers. “Never say that. I will make him do it, and when I am done, he will think freeing you is the best idea he has ever had, because it will be. You will help me, Teag, Dylan…everyone.”

He pulled away, and for a moment she thought she saw a flash of guilt. “This is not an easy endeavor. It comes with risks.”

“You are giving me a chance at life. The only chance I have left.”

He took a ragged breath and let it out. “You are sure this is what you want?”

“Is there another way?”

He shook his head.

“Then I am prepared to take the risk.”

Taking her hand, he directed her to lie down on the patch of earth within the shiny marble ballroom. As soon as she was settled, forget-me-nots sprang up around her. “So that the memory of you will be strong, and that I may never forget you.”

He went to a nearby marble column etched with flowers and pulled life from the rock, returning with a cluster of bleeding hearts. He wrapped her fingers around the long stems. “So that your father will remember you are his pride and joy and that his heart will never be whole without you.”

Before he could pull away, she grabbed his hand. Her fingers suddenly cold within his. “If nothing comes of this, please remember me fondly.”

He cupped her cheek, sweeping at a tear clinging to her lower lashes. “Oh, my sweet girl. You, I will never forget. Not as long as I live. You have brought joy, brought life back to my battered soul.”

She smiled and let go, but he didn’t rise, and the lines at the corner of his eyes deepened. “The power I am about to bestow on you is wild. Frightening. Do not let it go. Hold on tight and exert your will over it. I have faith you can do this.”

Baun stepped away, and as soon as he did, a cold mist slipped along the floor, cracking the marble and frosting the blades of grass around her. The flowers quickly disappeared beneath an icy sheath. Kera shivered as the mist wound its way around her. Her breath turned to puffs of white that escaped her mouth faster and faster. The cold mist clung to her, encasing her skin in a cocoon as real as the one the boy in the cave was making.

She stared at the black sky sprinkled with a thousand stars. One by one, they began to burst like fireworks on a clear and cold night.

The stardust zipped across the sky. Falling. Falling. Falling. Until it swirled around her, sinking into her skin, flooding every nerve with a magic so intense she couldn’t breathe.

Her body convulsed.

Her heart beat once.

Twice.

Then stilled.

Seeing Is Believing

The bodies are buried. All fourteen of them.

I killed fourteen men. Me. Alone.

When I think about it too much, my stomach gets tight. The grave mounds slowly sink into the ground, instantaneous internment. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. I can’t watch, and I turn away. Squatting beside Bodog, I stare into the fire he made. It’s safer, except the images of the dead soldiers I try to push deep into my mind won’t stay buried. I slip my right hand within the fire and let the orange and red flames lick at my fingers, willing a jolt of pain to chase the images away. After a while, I pull away and examine my hand, burn- and pain-free. “It’s not right.”

Faldon’s face shifts and the wooden lips part. “Right or wrong, the power we each have is a gift and not to be used lightly.”

“I guess Jason didn’t get that memo.” My thoughts darken thinking about my former friend. “I’ve been meaning to ask you how power is given. Jason seems to have an awful lot of it.”

“He does.”

“So how’d he get it?”

“Whoever gifted him with power made sure he either had an unlimited reserve for a specific time period, or they created a new way of permanently altering his human status.”

“Like he died and was reanimated?” My causing Jason’s meltdown and then giving him the power to enact his revenge gives my life just one more sick twist.

“It’s an interesting theory…”

“But could it happen?”

“I don’t know. I’m more familiar with Granel’s genetic alterations he created for Navar.”

Out of all of Granel’s creations, the hellhounds have given me the worst nightmares. I hate those damn dogs. “It’s a creepy hobby he’s developed.”

“It was banned hundreds of years ago, after the werewolf uprising.”

“Werewolves?” He can’t be serious. “Are you telling me you guys made werewolves?”

“Our people are masters over nature, but even we have our share of failed experiments. Werewolves were designed to control one specific human nation from wandering too far outside their boundaries, but the werewolves migrated and caused havoc when they developed a taste for human flesh. The few who survived were placed in the Unknown, where access to magic is limited. To be honest, no one knows exactly what is in there, what has survived. Thrived. Adapted. It’s how the area got its name.”

I rub my stomach and wonder if I’m getting ulcers. Seventeen and I’m killing myself with worry. “Kera’s in there…so are Reece and Signe…with those things and God knows what else. Why would you create something like that and then let it loose? It’s sick.”

“We were put here to create order out of chaos. To use our talent with science and magic and refine the rough edges of nature.” He paused. “When mistakes happen, we needed a solution.”

I push to my feet, unable to hide my disgust. “If you haven’t noticed, you guys are having an epic fail moment.”

I start toward the bridge, my worry growing with every step. Someone has to know what’s in the Unknown. Someone has to know where Kera is and what’s keeping her there. Someone.

It’s a call of frustration. A call for help. I can’t do this alone. One misstep will bring me to my knees.

Your powers have grown stronger.

I turn around. Bodog and Faldon are still by the fire. I must be hearing things.

You are hearing me. To save Kera, you must kill the Dreamweaver. It never gives up its victims willingly, so you must lure it from its burrow. Whatever you do, never listen to your death song. Now hurry. Kera won’t last much longer.

“How do you know all this?”

A king always knows what goes on in his kingdom, Dylan.

I’m talking to my dad? I clench my teeth and my jaw spasms like a Pavlovian dog hearing the bell. “Why should I trust you?”

You have no one else to turn to.

I hate it that he’s right. I feel his presence leave my mind, and I realize I’ve wandered closer to the bridge than I had intended. That my dad can distract me so completely makes me nervous.

Before I can turn around, a rush of air slashes through the area, followed by an earsplitting cry. The next moment, a huge dragon is in front of me, its weight shaking the ground when it lands. In no time, Bodog’s up a tree, stick in hand and a whimper on his lips. I grab my sword and hold it in front of me, staring down the burning blade into a pair of amber eyes.

“Don’t hurt him,” someone yells weakly.

The next moment I see Lucinda leap off the dragon’s back and reach up to help Leo down. He clutches his side where blood soaks his shirt and looks at Lucinda. “I told you he wouldn’t stay put. I knew he’d be here.”

I put away my sword and race to him, fitting my shoulder under his arm for support. “What happened?”

Leo limps along beside me. He’s sweating and can’t seem to take a full breath. “Get ready. Jason’s coming. He was in the human realm tearing it up when we got there.”

I’m almost relieved. That’s why we couldn’t find him with the maps. “What was he doing there?”

“He went after his dad.” Leo’s kind eyes flicker with pain.

I set him on the ground near the fire, and Lucinda peels back his shirt and examines his wound. “Bro, he killed his own dad. Ripped him apart. Then went after his wrestling coach, then the principal…everyone he believes should’ve stepped in and stopped his dad from being a dick, which is pretty much everyone. He’s out of control. If you’re going to save Kera, you’ve got to leave now, before he gets here.”

“Are my grandparents okay?” I feel selfish for asking specifically after them, but I have to know.

He sucks in a deep breath when Lucinda touches a sensitive area and grunts, “Yeah. Your grandfather and my dad are pulling people together and are coming this way.”

“Wait, they’re coming to Teag?”

“To the barrier. Whatever crosses over, they’re determined to kill.”

“So everyone knows about me now?”

“Hard to hide when that walking chunk of meat starts showing off his new powers and telling everyone how superior he is to us puny humans. Classic movie-villain mode.” He coughs and clutches his side. He’s about as pale as I’ve ever seen him.

“He is superior to humans,” Lucinda says, pushing Leo’s hands away so she can wrap his wound with bandages she’s pulled out of thin air.

“Cin…” Leo draws her name out.

I’m not surprised she thinks like Jason. Honestly, I can’t understand why she’s with us. From what I’ve seen, she isn’t the type to stick around a losing team.

She blinks as if she’s startled by his tone. “I meant no insult. It is like comparing a kitten to a grown lion. Same heart, different skills, and right now you are a tangle of kittens in need of better skills.”

She stands, and Leo grabs her hand. “Where are you going?”

“To bring you those with better skills.” She dips down, caresses his cheek, and kisses him.

“Hurry back.” He lets go, and she’s gone.

I can’t stop staring at him. “Wow.” It’s all I can say. Their relationship doesn’t seem like a temporary fling.

“Jason was aiming for her.” He fidgets with his bandages, then says on a gruff whisper, “I got in the way.”

“You got in the way?” Leo isn’t that stupid or clumsy. “You saved her life.” Ever since he stepped foot in Teag and met Lucinda, she’s been the one to protect him like a leopard hissing over its latest kill. Clearly, when he saved her, it made an impression. Maybe I’ve misjudged her after all.

A distinct yelp echoes. I see the dragon pressing its front feet along the base of a tree, trying to shake what’s in it down. Bodog smacks the dragon’s head with the heavy end of his walking stick and tells it to go away.

“Where did you find a dragon?”

“In the woods behind your house where Kera tied it.”

In the woods where Kera tied it? I sigh. “Her sweet little pet was a dragon?”

He struggles to sit up straight and yells, “Blaze!”

“Blaze?” That monstrous thing can’t be the same tiny fire-spitter who tried to bite me.

The dragon lumbers over and sniffs Leo, then me. I’m not a fan of a dragon’s massive, hot nose shoved in my crotch, and I gingerly push him away.

“He likes you,” Leo says on a sigh of relief. “Lucinda said he belonged to Faldon.”

“This can’t be that Blaze. Faldon’s dragon was tiny.” I show Leo how tiny with the span of my fingers.

“Here, yeah, but once he stepped foot in our realm, he started to grow, and good thing, too. He’s big enough to carry you into the Unknown. So take him and go.”

“I’m not going to leave you. Not like this.” He’s bleeding and can barely take a full breath.

“Lucinda wouldn’t have left if she thought I was dying. Trust me on that. Signal Wyatt.” Leo nods toward the tree Bodog is climbing out of. “Bodog can look after me until he gets here.”

The little man’s foot slips and he falls to the ground, not instilling confidence in me. Leo won’t let up. “Bro, this is your only chance. You’ve got to take it.”

If I leave and something horrible happens to Leo, I’ll never forgive myself. But how can I leave Kera to suffer a moment longer? Not to mention Signe and Reece. Not long ago, I would’ve abandoned Leo in favor of Kera. Somewhere along the way, I learned to contain my selfish nature.

“Go,” Leo says, delivering a weak push against my leg.

Bodog gives the dragon a wide berth and ends up near my elbow. He digs the slim end of his walking stick into the dirt and stares up at me with his big googly eyes. “Faith takes risk.”

Faldon’s face appears in the wood, and I wonder how much faith he had to have in order to allow Bodog to separate him from the tree.

“Your friend will be all right,” Faldon rasps.

I don’t like the risk, but I’ve run out of choices. I point my finger at Faldon’s wooden face. “Don’t you dare let Bodog leave him.”

The wooden lips crack open. “You have my word.”

I call a ball of fire to my hands, and when it’s big and hot enough, I send it into the sky, where it explodes into a shower of sparks.

Now that I’ve made my decision, I can’t wait to find Kera. I grab my satchel from near the fire and approach Blaze, hoping he’ll let me ride him, and prepared to force the matter.

I run my hand along his side, feel him shiver at my touch. He glances back at me, not in a threatening way, but in a way that makes me think he knows what’s going on and I’m taking too long. I nod and vault onto his back and settle into a space with small, soft scales that feel made for a rider. Halfway up the neck, a series of horns sprout out in two rows that climb to the top of his head. The smallest ones nearest me are perfect handholds.

“Make sure you have enough speed, and once you enter, push for height,” Faldon’s raspy voice calls. “There is no telling what you’ll encounter once you enter the Unknown.”

I’m not sure how to get a dragon to go, so I treat him like I would a horse and kick his sides with my heels. He suddenly hunkers down and jumps. I’m not prepared for the vertical takeoff. My head spins until we level off. The speed is good, but I yell for him to take us lower.

He understands what I want almost as if he’s reading my mind. We dip back toward the earth, skim the ground at a winning NASCAR speed, and hit the edge of the drop-off near the bridge.

There’s no time to feel any of the sensations I felt the first time I tried to cross. We break through the cloaking magic and find ourselves flying over a deep gorge. Silence pushes against my eardrums. Blaze struggles to rise higher. The woods loom in front of us, except we’re sinking. It’s like something is sucking us down. Blaze pumps his wings, his muscles strain. We slam against the opposite edge of the gorge and he claws at the dirt.

“Come on. You can do it,” I yell, feeling my stomach drop further with every second suspended there.

His back claws rip off chunks of dirt as his front claws sink into the earth. With one massive heave, Blaze hurdles us up and into the woods, skidding to a stop in front of a huge tree. I slip off his back, my legs shaking, and I hug him.

“I love you, man. I don’t know about you, but I was scared to death.”

Blaze snuffles and lets out a horrible sulfurous stink, one I remember coming from Kera one night. She’s been keeping a lot from me, and that makes me nervous…and worried. Why didn’t she trust me?

I let go and remount, turning the question over in my mind. Once we find a big enough break in the trees, Blaze crouches and springs into the air. Aloft, I peer into the thick canopy of glittering, silver-edged leaves. Off to my right, smoke filters up through the limbs. Campfires. It’s right where the map showed an army. In front and to my left, the forest blankets the area for miles and miles.

I do a low-level search pattern, zigzagging back and forth. For being so big, Blaze is amazingly agile and quiet in the air. I can hear a squirrel climb a tree…but it’s probably not a cute little innocent squirrel. It’s probably vampiric with venom in its spit.

I’m about ready to move to a new area when I hear a scream. I call on my power. It’s sluggish to find me, but I get enough that I’m able to separate the trees and Blaze dives down, landing right in front of Signe and Reece. Horror is etched into Signe’s face and Reece has her pressed up against a tree, his back to her and his sword drawn, but I don’t see a threat.

Slipping off Blaze, I draw my sword and ask the obvious. “What’s wrong?”

Signe points to the spot under Blaze’s feet. The dragon scoots to the side to reveal a dying, smooshed field mouse.

I pick up the broken little body by its tail and Signe whimpers while Reece holds his sword pointed at it. I don’t get it. “It’s a mouse, guys.”

The thing suddenly turns on me, grows to the size of a bobcat, and lunges at my throat. I toss it in the air and Blaze blasts it with fire. The thing drops to the ground twitching and smoking, and Reece stabs it so many times he looks like he’s preparing it for stir-fry. When he’s satisfied the thing’s dead, his wild gaze settles on me. “Do you know what kinds of crazy things live here?”

We had a basic clue before we decided to rescue Kera, but I’m thinking he’s not in the mood to hear that. They both launch themselves at me, and I’m in the middle of a hug sandwich.

Reece jerks back. “From now on, we stick together.”

Signe pulls away. “Together.”

“Why’d you do it?” I ask them.

Reece points to Signe. “I followed her.”

“I couldn’t wait any longer,” she says. “Lani died because I was always scared to go with her. I refuse to lose Kera because of a weak heart.” She bows her head, fighting back tears.

Girls and tears. Having an emotional basket case as a mom helped me realize crying is as natural for them as eating. Reece wraps his arms around Signe, and she hugs him tightly. Running his hands up and down her back, he says, “You’re not weak, Signe. You’re cautious.”

“Cautious?” Her spine snaps arrow-straight, and she shoves away from Reece.

Oh crap. I take a step back. He should’ve stayed with the back rubbing.

“Hadrain was cautious and let Navar take over his lands and people. My mother was cautious, and died before she could reveal her feelings to the man she loved, afraid he wouldn’t love her back because she was human. My sister was everything that was good, sweet, and pure and she was anything but cautious and lived life to the fullest. I want my full measure. I hate being cautious…hate it!”

She wipes away her gathering tears, and Reece holds up his hands in surrender, lost as to what he did wrong.

Muttering under her breath, Signe holds out her ring hand. The stone glows blue and she tosses dirt several times in the air until a three-dimensional map appears. She follows the short line to a detailed picture of the inside of an animal burrow. “There she is, in this back chamber.” Signe glances up at Reece, “Waiting for me to stop being cautious and rescue her.” She drops her hand and the map disintegrates.

“Great!” Reece snaps. “Why don’t you race on out there and get your impulsive self killed trying to rescue your friend, and I’ll stay here and create a plan that will actually work.”

“Oh, you are…you are…,” she stammers, her cheeks turning redder and redder.

“I’m what?” he challenges.

“Not worth talking to anymore.” She spins around and stomps over to Blaze.

A confused frown shadows Reece’s face, and I shake my head. “Let’s calm down. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“What are you talking about?” He thrusts his hand, palm up, in her direction. “I am trying to keep her from getting hurt.”

Blaze hacks once, twice, and then spits a pile of mucous-laced mouse bones in Reece’s outstretched hand. The big guy grimaces and flicks the special gift off.

Signe pats Blaze, hiding her smile, and then walks past me. “Kera is this way.”

Reece follows, wiping his hand on his pant leg. Before I go, I pull Blaze’s massive head to mine and stare into those beady amber eyes. “Stay here. We’re going to get Kera. Understand? You stay here.”

As Reece and Signe move farther into the trees, I back away, point at him, and repeat, “Stay.”

When I catch up, Reece leans over and asks so Signe can’t hear, “We’re coming back for him, right?”

Am I the only one who sees an advantage in having a dragon along? “Why wouldn’t we?” I whisper back.

“There are other ones here. Even bigger ones.”

“What?” Reece can’t be right. I look through the breaks in the trees and scan the sky. “Dragons are here?”

“Yep. One more thing not welcome in Teag.”

“That wasn’t always true,” Signe says. “Long ago, a few escaped into the human realm, and once there, away from Teag’s magic, they grew and became troublesome in your world. They were quickly rounded up and brought back. I thought they all died. Faldon was the only person I knew to even have one. He said Blaze was the last of his kind.”

If I think about it, it makes sense. Bodog, Lucinda, Blaze—they were all unwanted, and for some reason feared, by the firsts. Somehow Faldon saved them from the Unknown.

How does someone known to champion the helpless end up trying to kill his own grandson?

Signe stops and signals us to come quickly. We flank her, and she points to a fairly well-hidden burrow entrance. “That’s it.”

The entrance is wide enough for Reece and I to fit through, but low enough that we’d have to bend over nearly double.

“A Dreamweaver dug it.” A shiver rattles Signe, and I ask, “You’ve heard of it before?”

“Old stories. No one has ever seen one and lived.” She bends and rips a portion of her underskirt off, then asks for a knife and begins cutting the fabric up. When she’s done, she holds up six squares of fabric.

Reece nods at the squares. “What’re they for?”

“Earplugs, unless you want to hear your death song…”

Reece holds out his hand. “Not today, thanks.” He begins rolling them into manageable balls. “How do we know it’s still in there and not out here?”

“Dreamweavers are mostly nocturnal.” Signe gives me two of the squares. “They rarely, if ever, leave their burrows. They wait for unsuspecting victims to walk by and then lure them in.” What she’s saying pretty much matches what Baun told me. I have no reason to doubt her.

I scour the ground, bend, and show them four stones. “Time to knock on the door and see if he wants to come out and play.”

We set ourselves up within the trees opposite the entrance. Signe stuffs the fabric into her ears and hides far to the left, while Reece and I pocket the fabric and find a few more rocks the size of our fists and get ready to play ball.

I step out and fling the first rock into the entrance, ripping a hole through the fine webbing covering the opening. I duck back into the cover of the trees beside Reece.

He smiles. “Rang the doorbell with that one.”

He steps out and spins a rock into the burrow. We hear it thunk against a far wall. Reece dives back into our hiding place and we wait. When nothing happens, I step out and throw another hardball. The clatter of it bouncing reaches our ears.

Two more rocks, and nothing but the sound of rock hitting rock bounces around the entrance of the burrow. Reece steps up and zings one in. There isn’t any wind, but I can see the webbing we haven’t managed to destroy jiggle slightly. I point it out to Reece. “I think we’ve finally got his attention.”

Stepping out again, I pull my arm back and throw. The rock enters, but there’s no sound.

Reece and I exchange a quick glance. He fishes for the fabric Signe gave him and stuffs it in his ears. I wave him off, and he dashes to where Signe waits. I put the fabric in my ears and all sound disappears. I hear my heartbeat. Hear every time I swallow. I palm another rock.

Before I can throw it, all the rocks we’ve thrown come zipping out. I dodge them all except one that hits my side, either cracking my ribs or giving me the worst cramp ever. Either way, I accidently drop the rock I was about to throw.

I clamp my hand over the spot and rub as I stumble backward, keeping my eyes glued to the burrow entrance. I’m only slightly worried my side will slow me down, but not enough to stop me. Kera is in there and I’ll risk anything to free her.

I stoop, pick up another rock, and toss it in the air, testing its weight. The webbing flutters. He’s close, waiting, gauging my bravery. I’m teasing him like a bullfighter in the ring, daring him to come forward.

I pull back my arm, and just before I throw it, the boy lunges out of the burrow, his six arms flailing, his dirty long hair flying, and his ragged pants hanging off his bone-thin hips. One after the other, he flings six pieces of thin, needle-like bone, pointy end first, toward me. I keep a step ahead, and when the last missile flies past, I heave the rock, smacking him in the chest. Lunging into the woods, I throw myself behind the first tree big enough to hide me.

Peeking around the trunk, I stare at the place his hands should be and see bone growing like shark teeth moving in to fill a bite gap. This guy can regenerate faster than a lizard in a crowded aquarium. Snarling and clicking his teeth, he paces, flexing his arms. With each contraction, the bone lengthens a little more.

Behind him, I see Signe and Reece slip into the burrow. The Dreamweaver spins around and stares at the entrance. He’s heard them. He can see the webbing jiggle with their movements. I can’t let him go back inside. I draw my sword and run straight for him, screaming Braveheart-style.

Without looking at me, he points an arm and shoots a new bone needle. I deflect it with my sword and keep running toward him. Another arm rises. Another needle flies out. I deflect that one, too. I’m almost on him, and the boy turns and frowns at me like I’m a pest. His lips start moving. I can’t hear what he’s saying, and then I’m glad I can’t. He’s singing my death song.

Too bad I’m not ready to die yet.

I swing. My blade connects with two of his bony appendages. Another slashes a thin line along my cheek. I barely avoid the next bony needle by pulling back, and when I do, my sword skids off the bones without making a mark. My sword always leaves behind a mark. I jump away and dart back in. Thrust up, hit bone. Duck. Spin to the left. Lunge forward and slash his hamstring. Roll away. A needle stabs into the ground, barely missing me.

A solid kick to his injured leg drops him to his knee. I jump to my feet and run into the forest, hoping he’ll follow. The cut to his hamstring is deep, and when he stands, the boy snarls, showing bloodstained teeth. I push through the underbrush, moving from hiding place to hiding place. He doesn’t enter the trees, only stands at the edge, pacing. Waiting. He knows I won’t leave, that I’m here for Kera. I pick up a rock, jump out from my hiding place, and throw it, hitting him square on his spine. A bony dart spikes through the foliage and hits me in the thigh. I stagger back and fall. My sword slips from my hand.

He turns, and a triumphant smile settles on his face. He drags his leg behind him as he moves toward me.

I don’t dare take my eyes off the Dreamweaver. Reaching over my head, I feel for my sword, but I can’t find it. Strands of dirty long hair string over the boy’s face as he approaches. He raises an arm and I roll, barely missing being stabbed to the earth. Two more needles fly. I grab my satchel and deflect the needles, but one grazes my left arm and lands nearby.

He’s singing again. I’m actually tempted to listen, and that kinda freaks me out. I think my earplugs were knocked loose. I hum, blocking any sound that may get through, and pat the ground all around me for my sword.

It’s nowhere. The boy stands over me. The bony needles grow longer and longer. His smile turns evil, his song louder. I can hear my death song like a sweet whisper through the fabric. I hum louder. I can’t find my sword. I begin to sweat, and then my hands knock into the two bony needles he shot at me. Grabbing one in each hand, I yank them out of the ground and in one motion, slam them into his chest. Shock spreads on his face. My death song dies on his lips and he topples backward.

“Dylan!”

The sound of a female screaming penetrates what remains of my earplugs. I rip them out as well as the needle sticking out of my thigh and struggle to my feet. Signe bursts out of the burrow, and behind her, Reece emerges, dragging a long white shell. My heart tightens. It’s Kera.

Signe is crying and talking at the same time. I limp over, grab her shoulders and shake her. “Stop it. I can’t understand you.”

She swallows her sobs. “We cannot remove it. Whatever we try fails.”

Unmindful of my leg, I race back for my sword, and when I bring it down at the base of the cocoon, it sizzles, but it doesn’t burn or cut through the hard shell.

This can’t be happening.

Signe drops to her knees by Kera’s head and places her hand on the cocoon. “It’s so cold. She’s stopped moving. Do something.”

If my sword can’t cut through, I have no idea what can. And then I see one of the Dreamweaver’s needles. I scoop it up and yell for Signe to move. One hard jab and it’s through the hard shell and into the gummy mass near Kera’s head. I stick my finger in and feel for her mouth. Using the needle, I rip through the cocoon until I can see blue lips. She’s freezing and not breathing. Reece and Signe drop down next to me, each holding a needle, and begin to rip into the cocoon with me. In less than a minute she’s free.

“Get back,” I yell. Placing my hands over Kera’s heart, I don’t think about failure. I send a jolt of energy. Her body arches, then lands lifeless on the ground. I send another jolt. I can hear Signe softly crying, hear Reece cuss. I touch Kera’s neck for a pulse. Nothing.

“Wake up, Kera! Wake UP!”

I press down over her heart again and pump out a massive jolt of energy. Her body jumps a good two inches off the ground, and when she hits, her mouth pops open and her chest rises with a deep breath. I scoop her into a sitting position and hug her tightly to me. She’s shivering and covered in gooey God knows what. I wipe her wet hair out of her face and whisper in her ear. “I thought I’d lost you. You’re going to be okay. I’ve got you. I’m not going to let go.”

I look at Reece and Signe. “Let’s get out of here.”

Kera slips her arms around my neck and presses her lips against my ear. “He’s coming.”

She’s shivering so violently, I’m not sure if it’s from the cold or fear. I stand with her in my arms, and pull slightly away to stare into her big violet eyes. “I killed the Dreamweaver. He won’t hurt you ever again.”

“No. Baun. He’s been set free.”

The Walking Wounded

Hadrain freed my father and all because Kera implanted a thought deep in his brain. It sounds completely unethical and exactly like something my dad would do.

I glance at Signe and Reece, who are deep in conversation ahead of us, and hear them worry over where Blaze has gone. He wasn’t where we left him and that’s got us all on edge.

At least they aren’t paying attention to Kera and me. I can’t keep the irritation out of my voice. “He used you, Kera. He manipulated you. That’s what he does. Signe is the one who found you.”

She shakes her head adamantly. “I know he helped you somehow. You just don’t want to admit it.”

He did help, but not in a way that he can take any credit for saving Kera, though I don’t think that’ll stop him from trying.

My leg is on fire, and carrying Kera isn’t helping, but I’m not about to let her go. We used the water in my canteen to clean her hands and face, but goo still clings to her hair and body. She’s shivering like a Chihuahua in a room full of pit bulls, so I let the heat I hold deep in my core warm my skin, and she cuddles closer.

I shift her in my arms and calmly repeat what I’ve been saying for the last ten minutes. “As soon as we find Blaze, we’re leaving.”

“Not without Baun.”

“We can’t trust him, Kera,” I say louder than I should, but I’m getting frustrated, and I’m beginning to wonder how much he messed with her mind.

She stubbornly shakes her head. “Baun has changed. I know he has.” She places her palm against my cheek and gently runs her thumb over the line of blood I feel drying along my cut. “He has been tortured enough, Dylan, and I would as soon leave him here as I would you.”

She kisses the corner of my mouth, and then lays her head on my shoulder.

The loyalty of the firsts. It can be unreasonable when activated. “We don’t know where he is.”

“He will find us.”

Saving Kera is as natural to me as my next heartbeat. Waiting for my messed-up dad to appear from the hole he’s been imprisoned in since I was born goes against my better judgment. Looking at Kera, I know I don’t have a choice. She’s not budging without my dad.

“Fine.” Sweat pops out on my upper lip. Carrying her shouldn’t take this much effort, but my leg is bothering me more and more. I need to stop and sit down. “We’ll do it your way, but if I say we leave, we leave. No questions. Okay?”

“Agreed, so long as we have your father with us.”

I groan and continue following our friends, my leg aching with every step. A few times I have to blink to still the ground from spinning. I lag farther behind Signe and Reece, though this time, not on purpose. The ground pitches again. A wave of dizziness follows, and I stumble for a second.

“Dylan?” There’s tension in Kera’s voice.

I blink, trying to clear my head, but this is no problem I can blink away. I’m losing my grip. “Can you still heal?” The question is gravelly and slightly slurred.

My vision blurs and I drop to my knees, still holding Kera. She gasps and pulls out of my arms. Signe and Reece are beside us before I hit the ground, and Reece helps me lie back.

I hear my jeans being ripped and then see Reece’s face hovering above me. “You said it was a scratch. That’s not a scratch. Dude, are you trying to bleed to death?”

Signe steps away…or is she pushed by Kera?

“Let me see,” Kera says and scrambles to where I’m wounded.

I stop her from touching me. “You’re not strong enough yet.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

I close my eyes and feel the heat of her hands on my thigh. I want to buck away, but Reece is holding down my leg.

When Kera sits back, the pain is gone. She looks pale and wilted as she uses her fingers to comb her stringy hair out of her face. It’s harder for us to access our powers in the Unknown. We aren’t recharging as quickly as we should. I take her hand in mine. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“You shouldn’t have come here, but you did. Even when I told you to stay away.”

“I couldn’t stay away. You know that.”

“And I can’t stand to watch you suffer.”

Heavy footfalls sound, and we all turn and see a monstrous head pushing through the undergrowth.

I push up onto my elbows, feeling much better. “It’s about time you showed up.”

Blaze sees Kera and a gurgle escapes his throat. Reece jumps up and pulls Signe out of the way as the well-fed dragon squeezes between two trees and gets stuck. Signe pats the dragon’s bulging side. “Is it me, or has he grown?”

“His belly has, at least,” Reece says. “I have a feeling he’ll eat anything that wanders his way.”

The trees crack and give, letting Blaze pass. His hot snout nudges Kera’s shoulder, and she slips a hand under a loose scale for a good scratch. His legs collapse under him and a deep, rumbling purr erupts from his throat along with a puff of sulfur-tainted smoke.

We all cough and wave our hands to clear the air. I push to a sitting position and scooch back. “If he’s going to mouth-fart every time you scratch him, can I be the first one to suggest you not scratch him?”

“Sorry.” Kera stops and helps me to my feet. “How does your leg feel?”

“Good.” I hop on it and there’s no pain. Not even a twinge. “Really good.”

I’m impressed by her power to heal. It’s one I wish I had.

I’m ridiculously happy, actually. I don’t know if it’s a side effect of her healing, or that I’m relieved she’s here. With me. Alive.

I touch her cheek, gaining her full attention. “How do you feel?”

“Gooey,” she says, a smile tipping the edges of her lips. “I need a bath.”

“I promise, the first puddle I see, I’ll push you in it.”

She laughs, the sound bright and clear. “You are so kind.”

“Here.” Reece hands her the canteen from his supply bag. “Take a shower, but do it on the go. The one thing I’ve learned about this place is the longer we stay, the bigger chance we have of something nasty jumping out at us.”

Reece walks back over to Signe, pulls her to her feet, and pushes her in the direction of the bridge, completely deaf to her complaint that she was in the middle of tying her shoe. “Come on,” he calls back to us.

The leaves on the trees shimmer prettily in the dappled light. I don’t see anything scary lurking around. “Seems quiet.”

“Reece is correct to be cautious.” Kera takes my hand and pulls me after her. “Never trust a quiet wood.” Seeing my frown, she says, “It’s a first proverb, and you know what they say about proverbs.”

“No. What?”

“Every proverb started with a problem.”

When she puts it like that, I don’t like quiet woods, either.

We trudge along, and I fill her in on Jason and how he’s gone all psycho on us. She bites her lip, and says she’s not surprised, and relates the dream she shared with him.

I can’t hide my surprise. “Why do you think Jason wanted to share his dream with you?”

“I don’t think he did. I think he was as surprised to find me in his dream as I was to be there.”

A low rumble sounds and I glance at Blaze, our now half-ton dragon, following close behind us. Every so often I’ve noticed him peering up through the branches and letting out a deep rumble. I hush him every time, but he won’t stop. Through the breaks in the trees, I see something big dart across the sky.

“Please tell me you’re not calling another dragon for a play date.”

Kera cocks her head, listening. “He’s made strange noises a couple of times, but that one was different. I think it may be a challenge.”

I glare over my shoulder. Blaze’s chest is puffed, and he’s searching the sky. “Ready to assert your dominance, are you, big boy?” I jab my finger in his direction. “Stop it. Bad dragon.”

Blaze drops his head and snuffles an especially fragrant huff.

Reece suddenly stops. “Dylan.”

His call is softer than what it should be, and it raises the hair on my arms. I position Kera by Blaze. “If anything bad happens, get on him and go.”

Her lips pinch together mutinously, and I point my finger at her. “I mean it.”

“But I’m just as able to—”

“Please do what I say for once without arguing.” I don’t wait to hear what else she wants to say. When I pass Signe, I tell her to join Kera.

Reece has worked his way forward to the edge of the trees and is low to the ground. The bridge isn’t that far off. More than a Hail Mary football throw away, but seeable. What I didn’t expect is the sound of logging and the building of shelters all along the edge of the Unknown. There are all manner of creatures roaming around, and a few appear innocently human.

Farther in, I see inky black ribbons, their shape smokelike. In the center of it all stands a man I know all too well.

Kera comes alongside me. I close my eyes and groan. “Why can’t you stay put?”

“Is that Granel? What’s he doing here?”

She doesn’t know he left without a word to anyone. “I don’t know, but something’s been bugging me since Ainsbury Cross. I think one of the dark souls is Navar.”

Kera gasps. “I saw a face that resembled him, but I didn’t think it was possible.”

We both saw Navar’s face? A creepy feeling settles in my gut. “Granel must have seen it, too. That’s why he left. He has issues that have warped his sense of loyalty.”

“He’s going into that building.” A thoughtful expression settles over Reece’s face.

Signe cranes her neck to see past us. “How are we going to get to the bridge? They’re everywhere.”

“We’re not,” I say.

“How are we to leave, then?”

“Blaze. I’ll send you and Kera back first. Then call him back for Reece, then me.”

“What about Baun?” Kera asks.

“I’ll stay as long as I can and wait for him.”

Reece is staring off into the distance. I don’t think he’s paying attention until he asks, “What does your dad look like again?”

“Light hair. Tall. A lot like me. Only older and scruffier.”

“Like him?” Reece asks and points.

A man with shaggy hair and wearing ragged clothes stumbles out of the woods across from us. Cuts along his arms and torso ooze blood. All around him, small lights zip in and out, harassing him forward.

Reece’s attention jumps from Baun to the enemy camp, where dozens and dozens of creatures roam the area. “He’s going to bring attention to himself and then us if he’s not careful.”

Baun is being oddly careless. Not at all what I expect from him. He suddenly trips and falls, splaying out his arms as if searching for something, but he only crawls along, grunting at each cut that appears on his body from the pux.

“He’s blind,” Kera says, close to tears. “He’s been underground for nearly two decades. Who knows what’s been done to him. Do something, Dylan. They will see him any minute.”

The more I look at him, the more damage I see. Dark circles ring his squinting eyes and there’s a sickly hue to his skin, like it’s never seen a speck of sun. He pushes awkwardly to his feet, his arms stretched out in front of him searching the air for any obstacles. He’s a mess. But worse, I actually feel pity for him.

Before I think better of it, I call on clouds to gather overhead. It’s not easy. The Unknown doesn’t want to obey me. Finally the clouds darken, and the rain I let loose sheets the air, swamping the ground in no time. The enemy does exactly what I expected. Half run for cover and the other half hunker down on the spot, burying their heads under whatever is available.

Baun does what I had hoped he’d do. He stops. And then he does something I don’t expect. He lifts his head up to the sky and laughs. His enjoyment seems to irritate the pux and they dart back in for another attack.

“Stay here,” I tell everyone, and then I take off, pushing around the underbrush, my eyes glued to my dad and those evil little monsters.

I settle behind a clump of foliage as near to Baun as I can get without drawing attention. Thunder shakes the Unknown and Baun curses at his torturers. “I am no longer your plaything. I have been set free. Leave me be.”

I can feel his frustration as if it were my own. I actually hate the pux. They deserve to die… I get an idea, but I have to be careful. One misfire and I’ll hit Baun, and frankly, with all this rain, I could miss. I concentrate, and a lightning bolt zigs down and fries one of the pux. They all stop and hover. While they’re distracted, I send down two more bolts. A pair nearest Baun fall, leaving smoke trails all the way to the ground.

That sends the little beasts into a buzz, but they do something out of character, yet familiar. They settle all around him, on his shoulders, his head, along his outstretched arms. I remember them doing so in a dream. I thought Baun was controlling them, but maybe it was their way of controlling him. Baun turns his head left, then right. “What’s going on?”

“How fond are you of your little friends?” I ask.

“Not at all.”

No hesitation and no asking who I am. But then, I think he knows. He always seems to know.

“Stand real still.” I call down bolt after bolt, zapping the pux off him like a crack marksman. More than a dozen fall to his feet when the rest spring off and dart away.

The downpour I’ve created is causing a rush of water toward the bridge. It’s strong enough to knock Baun off his feet. He skids along the ground, floundering as the water pushes him closer and closer to the enemy camp. It’s crazy to see him so defenseless. He’s a different man than I expected, and one I can’t just leave. I run forward and pull him to his feet.

“If you keep going like you are, you’ll run right into a slew of ugly.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a southern term. I don’t have time for a full explanation.” I guide him to the trees and lead him toward the others. “Let’s just say a human friend of mine got a hold of some first power and is on a vendetta to kill me and everyone else who stands in his way of world domination. I’m pretty sure he’s planning on releasing everything you all locked up in the Unknown, and everything you locked up is waiting by the bridge for the go-ahead.”

Baun yanks me to a stop. “He’s mad.”

“Pissed and crazy. That’s Jason.” I urge my dad forward. “We all need to get out of here and make sure his plan doesn’t turn into reality.”

“How many are with you?”

“Three. You and I make five.”

“Our combined powers are our worst asset, yet our greatest.”

“Only three of us have power.”

Baun’s jaw flexes. “Two are human?”

“Yep. Like me and Kera.”

“Not exactly.”

I don’t like the look on his face. “Exactly like us.”

“They have power?”

Didn’t I tell him they didn’t? “No.”

“Then they are not exactly like you.”

He can be such a jerk. “They have other talents.”

“I guess if they’ve managed to survive more than a minute in the Unknown, they must.”

“And I guess while you were locked up, you didn’t embrace the concept of rehabilitation.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong. I am a new man. Far more understanding than I ever was. My point is, your friends have no power to help us, and that is a liability—even if you aren’t willing to see it as such, I am. We will have to come up with a plan that will compensate for their disability.”

There’s no talking to him.

We arrive at the place where I left everyone, and I ease the downpour into a light mist. The rain has cooled the ground and a thick fog forms. Kera rushes through the knee-high fog to Baun and clasps his hand between hers. “It is good to see you.”

He touches her face with his other hand and smiles. “I am pleased you are safe.”

“Relatively,” I say, still irritated by his view of our friends and uncomfortable with the two of them being so chummy. This is the Lost King. The scourge of Teag. A man so horrible he was banished by his own father and best friend.

And I just saved him. I can’t think about the ramifications of what I’ve done. We have to get out of here. I turn to Signe. “Where’s Reece?”

“He said we needed to keep watch.” Signe nodded in the direction of the enemy camp, then slants a wary eye at Baun. She doesn’t appear happy he’s joined our little group. Why would she? He’s the one who started the extermination of humans and those tainted by human blood. People like Kera. Like me.

By the way Kera is fussing over him, I’m beginning to think she’s forgotten about that.

I stalk off, hunting for Reece. There are broken twigs and his discarded bag where he sat watching. And then footprints in the mud heading toward the enemy. The fog is thick, which is good cover, but not perfect because I can see him slinking between the structures toward the one Granel entered.

I retrace my steps, and when Kera sees I’m alone, she asks, “Where’s Reece?”

“He’s gone to kill Granel.”

Signe stands, her hands balling into her wet skirts. “I feared he might.”

I can’t blame Signe for not stopping him. Once Reece saw Granel, I knew he wouldn’t stay put. I’m more shocked he left the girls unprotected. What is it with this place that causes sane people to do irrational things? I take off my sword and hand it to Kera.

“What are you doing?” Her eyes are huge.

“Reece doesn’t stand a chance out there by himself.”

I point to Blaze, who’s made a nest out of a charred patch of ground and underbrush. He quickly rises, understanding me, and lumbers over. It’s like we have a link of some sort. I only have to think, and he reacts.

“No.” Kera grabs my arm as I’m about to vault onto Blaze. “There are too many.”

“If it were me out there, or your dad, what would you do?”

Although the rain is far less than it was, water drops slide down her long hair like she’s an elaborate Japanese rain chain. So beautiful even soaking wet. I want her to be brave. To know there’s more than just us. It’s taken me a while, but my human side has finally taken over. I’m in control now. Me.

“I’ll be okay. I’m a first and a human. They don’t stand a chance against me.”

I can feel her whole body shaking, but she lets go. “You’re right. Go get him.”

I bring her close and kiss her in the way that makes her knees weak and her heart melt. I love her so much, I’m nearly devastated by the longing in her kiss.

I pull away and mount Blaze. She touches my leg and I touch her hand. “Protect Baun and Signe. You’re smart and clever and stronger than you let on. If anything goes wrong…if I don’t come back, find a place to hide until your strength returns. Between you and Baun, you’ll figure out a way to get out of here.”

Leaving her isn’t what I want, but it’s the right thing to do.

I nudge Blaze and as he lifts off, I feel Kera’s fingers sweep down my leg. I push Blaze higher into the clouds and thank God humans can lie.

Kera’s right. There are too many.

I lean forward, hold low and tight to Blaze, and begin our dive.

Game On

There’s a shout. A clash of swords. Reece has made himself known, and it won’t be long before he ends up hurt or dead. Blaze swoops down and lets out a stream of fire. The camp comes to life. We buzz over the area time and again, avoiding their attempts at bringing us down.

When the dark souls appear, I spin Blaze away and he rumbles deep within his throat. In no time, four dragons, scarred from tip to tail, appear and slash at the dark souls, tearing them apart, yet just like at Ainsbury Cross, the black ribbons repair themselves and strike back.

Searching the area, I find Reece. Our landing shakes the ground, drawing Reece’s attention. I shout for him to get on Blaze. “You can’t fight them. You won’t win.”

“I can’t let him live.”

I know his hate for Granel is strong—I feel it, too—but this is a no-win situation for Reece.

“He’ll die. I promise you. But right now we need to get Signe and Kera out of here.”

A big hairy thing charges us. I don’t have time to do anything but launch myself at Reece, wrap my arms around him and tell him to trust me. The ground opens up under us and we fall through. Reece screams and I clamp my hand over his mouth before covering our heads with dirt. Confident Blaze has taken care of the problem, I pop us back out of the ground.

I immediately slam Reece against Blaze’s side. “This is my world. My problem. I’m not asking you to get on. I’m telling you.”

Reece nods and mounts Blaze. I take my place in front of him and tell him to hang on. Blaze leaps up and we lurch through the air, dodging all manner of missiles and magic they’re throwing at us.

“We’re going to need your friends,” I tell Blaze. A few moments later, the massive dragons flank us like a bombing squad. We sweep down and skid to a stop close to Kera and the others. We don’t have much time. Granel’s army is pulling together fast.

A dozen wolflike men charge out of Granel’s camp, and two of the dragons turn to face them. From deep in the ground, I bring up a line of sticky tar that traps a few, but others jump over and meet the dragons head-on. Several of them are charred by the dragon’s breath. Others are crushed by the heavy tails or ripped apart by the dragons’ jagged teeth.

Reece jumps off Blaze and pulls Signe to one of the other dragons, ignoring her questions about Granel. I go to Baun and help him mount the other, and then settle Kera in front of him. A cannonball flies over our heads and tears through the woods behind us. It hits the ground and explodes into a million pieces that shred the trees into mulch.

I don’t want to know what damage one of those will do to flesh and bone. They may have overestimated the distance, but knowing Granel, he won’t make that mistake again. “Go straight over the gorge.”

“Are you sure we can make it?” Kera asks. “If dragons can fly out, why haven’t they before?”

“Arrows!” Reece yells. We all turn to see a hailstorm of arrows fly our way. Reece nudges the dragon he and Signe are on and they leap into the air and head toward the gorge.

Before I can think, Baun raises his hand and the arrows turn into butterflies. Hundreds of black and gold wings fill the sky. Without missing a beat, he digs his fingers into Kera’s shoulders for balance. “Why would they leave? The Unknown is more of a sanctuary for them than a prison.”

“He would know,” I tell Kera, then grab my dad’s arm, forcing his attention onto me. “Whatever you do, don’t turn back.”

“What are you doing?” Kera tries to hold me there, but I yank free and slap the dragon on its side, sending it after Reece and Signe.

Even as Kera’s cry lingers in my ears, I jump onto Blaze and we spring into the air. The other two dragons follow, leaving behind the crushed and burned bodies of the wolf-men. I fly low, and we scour the camp with fire, diverting their attention so the others can escape. Arrows zing past. A net shoots out and entangles one of the dragons. With its wings and feet caught, it spirals down to the ground, where a swarm of beasts converge on it until there’s little left.

The largest, most scarred dragon lets out an earsplitting wail. From out of the trees rises a massive flock of hybrid lizard-birds. They descend on the camp like a wave of locusts.

I seize the opportunity and wheel Blaze around and head for the gorge. The big dragon follows, but stops short, landing near the bridge. As Blaze and I pass over the gorge, I glance back and see the heavily scarred dragon spit an arc of fire toward a line of men, and then leap into the air and fly off toward the volcano.

We enter the silent air of the gorge, and that feeling of being sucked down hits. Blaze, the smallest of the dragons, fights to make it over the dead space. When we hit the cloaking magic, it feels as if we’re flying through syrup, and with each wing beat we drop a little more. Then, we break across the gap that separates the Unknown from Teag, and in the distance, I see a huge fiery ball fly high, then descend with a thud that shakes the air.

Blaze spins out of a patch of thick smoke and ash. Everywhere I look, villages, trees, and field are burned or burning. The devastating sight makes the Roman invasion of Gaul look like a half-hearted effort. The whole landscape has been transformed. We collide with another smoke plume, and when we punch through to the other side, Kera’s dragon comes alongside us. She points in the fireball’s direction. “Someone made a fortress and is driving all the people toward it.”

Reece and Signe are heading that way. I have my doubts as to the wisdom of that, but there doesn’t seem any other choice.

One moment we’re flying, slipping in and out of smoke and ash, the next we’re dodging artillery. Blaze gains speed and zips close to the ground before he pulls up, skimming a huge stone wall as we climb toward the top. We veer to the left, and I urge Blaze to land on the roof of a tower where I have a perfect view of the place. An elaborate stone city stretches out in front of us.

I can’t imagine Hadrain creating this. Why would he? Why here?

Each building is perfectly carved and precisely placed for dramatic exposure. I get the feeling I’ve seen this place before. But how could I? And then I see it. The Hall of Whispers.

My heart nearly stops. This isn’t just any place. This city is in the video game Knights of Feldoria. Weren’t all of Jason’s favorite movies based on games, or turned into games? He had to have built it. About now I’m wishing I’d spent more time with those guys who had permanent nerve damage in their thumbs because they lived and breathed the video game scene after school.

So far, Jason has replicated only part of the Ruined City—five of the Nine Towers of Strength, one of which Blaze and I are sitting on, the Victory Gate situated along the west side of the city walls, the Weeping Gate to the north, the massive Hall of Whispers where the lord of the city lives, and the labyrinth of main streets, which can change direction without warning. That Jason was able to create what he has so far is amazing and terrifying at the same time.

Looking closer, I see men fighting within the streets. Guns and swords. Bombs and traps. It’s like the game, only worse. Real people are dying.

I nudge Blaze’s side and we fly over the city’s defenses. Along the wall, catapults fling monstrous stones, and murder holes are put to good use. Vats of tar bubble at specific intervals along the wall. I see two men set a tar-coated stone ball into a catapult and strike a light to it. Fire engulfs the ball, and a few seconds later, the stone is launched toward a line of Hadrain’s men. The sky is alight with fire before the stone slams through people, siege towers, and defenses alike. I have no idea where to begin looking for Kera or any of my other friends. The mass of war hits my ears and my eyes, and I worry I won’t know who is who.

We pass a man standing atop a watchtower. He locks on to me, twirls a sling above his head, and lets fly a small ball that whistles past. Nothing in Teag is simple. Blaze knows it, too, and darts away. Hearing a crack, I turn and see the ball explode. Tiny shards of colored glass shoot in all directions. As the glass falls, it gathers together and becomes a colorful bird that flies back to the man. I’m out of range, and he turns away from me, though he doesn’t waste any time. The bird is placed into another ball and loaded into the sling. I frantically search for his target and see Kera and Baun dodging a behemoth tri-top.

The man starts swinging his sling. I call fire to my hand and shoot it toward the tower. The man stops swinging and grabs his bird before he tries to run. Big mistake. Flames burst before he takes two steps, and he falls to the floor, his bird a mess of melted color in his hand, his howls of pain coloring the air.

I circle Blaze around and chase after the tri-top. We dart in, and I blast it with fire while Blaze slashes the tri-top’s wing. The beast screams and lashes out at us. We whirl away and come around for another attack. I pull out my sword, and when we fly beneath the animal, I slice its belly open. With a cry, it tumbles away.

Kera looks my way and I point to the ground near a spot at the foot of one of the towers. Though three streets lead to it, the tower is well protected by a walled courtyard. We land in front of the wall, and before Kera can jump down, I dismount and stop her. “I want you out of here.”

“You keep trying to protect me, but I’m a better fighter than you.”

“She is right,” Baun says from his perch. “I’ve seen her.”

“You’re blind,” I snap. “Stay out of this.”

He jumps down and I hear him mumble, “Now who is the one discriminating against others?”

Kera tries to dismount and I push her back onto the dragon. “It’s not about skill. I don’t think I could handle it if you got hurt.”

“What about you? Do you think I am happy knowing you are risking your life while I sit in safety?”

“This argument is moot,” Baun says.

Moot. Who uses words like that? Oh yeah, my crazy dad. I glare at him, but he can’t see how annoyed I am. “How so?” I ask in my most sarcastic, disrespectful tone.

“None of us can defeat your friend alone. It will take all of us together.”

Kera blinks, surprised by his announcement. “But I thought you said you could save Teag if you were set free.”

Baun waves his hand in front of him as if he’s waving away her doubts. “It was my thought, until I realized we’ve split my power into too many parts. Remember you each hold a piece of my power that Navar stole from me. Only when all the power works together is it whole. Only then can your friend be defeated.”

Kera pales. “You want your power back?” She slips off the dragon and looks up at me in a panic. “He wants his power back. What have I done?”

She helped release the one guy who could make her fully human again. I have no doubt it’s a shock to her.

I tuck her under my arm and hold her close. “It’s okay. He can’t take it from you. He can only ask you to borrow it, but you’re not going to give it to him.” I direct my words at Baun. “You’re not going to ask her for it.”

“Of course not.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, but it’s short-lived. He can get his power back if he kills Kera.

I push her behind me, draw my sword, and hold him back with the tip. “If you come near her again, father or not, I will kill you.”

An arrow whizzes by. Blaze and the bigger dragon spring into the air and set to defending us from above as I drag Kera with me behind the short wall surrounding the base of the tower. Two men lie dead and I push them out of the way.

Another arrow flies inches from Baun. I may not like him, but I can’t stand by and see a blind man get used for target practice. I dart back out and shove him behind the wall with us. He presses his back to the stones and sweeps a shaking hand through his hair.

Squatting between him and Kera, I say to him, “I think you should stay here, out of trouble, and let us handle this.”

He shakes his head. “Dylan, you need me. I am not as helpless as you think. We’ve landed smack in the middle of a full-blown war for Teag. One of your friends is tearing it apart, and Kera told me one of Navar’s commanders is preparing to break out of the Unknown, and with him every unspeakable evil created. At the moment, I have no interest in doing anything but saving my kingdom and its people. That I promise you.”

Kera places her hand on my arm. “He cannot lie.”

A grenade lands against the base of the tower in front of us. I warn Baun and then cover Kera with my body. Baun slams his hand on my back and an invisible shield surrounds the three of us just before the grenade explodes. When the dust settles, more than a few stones shake loose from the wall.

My dad lifts his hand, and I straighten. We hear the enemy demand that we show ourselves. Not likely.

Baun retreats to his huddled position and I try to read his face, but it’s blank. He’s saying all the right things, but I don’t trust him. “I want your word you won’t harm Kera.”

“Dylan,” Kera’s tone makes it sound like I’m being unreasonable. But this is the man who tried to exterminate humans and almost succeeded. How can she trust him?

He sighs. “I vow never to harm you or Kera. Now can we find your friend and end this?”

“Fine.” I peek around the corner. A zap of energy has me ducking out of sight, but not before I’ve counted two guys on the left and four on the right. The dead soldiers have a few weapons, some kind of explosive device, three knives, and a dented shield. I quickly form a plan and relate it to Baun and Kera. They want us to show ourselves? Then let’s do it. I move to a position opposite the two guys and wait for Baun’s signal.

Baun suddenly pops up, drawing everyone’s attention to him. Hiding behind the shield we borrowed from the dead guys, he throws the explosive and pops back down. By pure luck, the explosion hits the enemy. I vault over the wall and take out the two soldiers nearest me. Kera quickly throws each knife. The first pierces an enemy soldier’s throat, the next embeds between another soldier’s eyes, and the last sinks into a nearby soldier’s heart. The last soldier standing lets go of a long strip of leather. A big cat that looks like it belongs in the museum of things-that-became-extinct-a-long-time-ago leaps out and heads straight for Kera. She jumps over the wall, slides neatly beside the animal, and uses her incordium dagger to gut the cat in one swipe.

The lone standing soldier turns and runs. Neither Kera nor I bother to chase him.

I go to Kera and look her up and down for any injuries. “Are you okay?”

She wipes her blade on her pants as if she’s doing nothing more than polishing it. “Yes. You?”

“I’m cool.” I follow the damage she did, and for the first time, I see her with clear eyes. My girlfriend is seriously badass. I had no idea.

While Baun stands there, a suit of armor replaces the rags he’s wearing. It’s futuristic and medieval at the same time. “Can we go now?” He adjusts his helmet. “Your friends are near the Weeping Gate. I trust you know the way?”

“How do you know that?”

“It’s a gift I acquired years ago. One of my favorites.”

Acquired as in killed for it?

I notice he doesn’t tell me how that particular all-seeing gift works. He’s not stupid.

He holds out his hand and a long metal staff appears. He runs a finger along the dusty surface, presses a button, and spikes appear at the ends. He presses the button again and they disappear.

A weapon within a weapon. That sums up Baun. When you think you understand him, he shows you something you don’t expect. The faster we get this over with, the faster I can hand him over to Hadrain. Let Kera’s dad deal with the crazy—and now free—Lost King, since it’s his fault he’s out.

I hear Blaze call and look up to see him and his friend circling the area. If he can read my mind, which I think he can, he’ll know where we’re going and follow us. Kera goes to Baun and guides him around the mess we made.

“Nice armor,” I say. I’m actually a little jealous my powers don’t extend to dressing myself with just my thoughts.

“It’s something I created long ago and never had the chance to wear. A leader should look the part.”

Baun’s what I call a suit-and-tie guy. I’ve never liked them much. “More importantly,” I say, “a leader should act the part.”

“By all means,” he sweeps his arm out, “lead the way, Dylan.”

Just like in the game, the streets move, causing a whole block to change direction and the player to get turned around if he’s not careful. It’s why I hate that particular game. It makes no sense. Thankfully, the Weeping Gate isn’t far, but when we get there, the fighting is brutal.

Pushing Baun into a sheltered area, I tell him to stay until it’s safe. I then turn to ask Kera to protect him, but she’s gone. I’m slowly getting used to that aspect of her personality, but I still don’t like it. I dive into the action, searching for her as I fight off the enemy. They’re pretty easy to spot. While Hadrain’s men are in muted greens and browns and golds, Jason has outfitted his men in armor more elaborate than Baun’s. As I move through the street, I use everything I have. My sword, fire, and speed, and magically using the things around me to beat back the enemy.

I bump into Wyatt when I dive behind a cart for protection. In the game, there aren’t many places to take cover, and it’s tempting to stay too long, thinking you’re safe. But you never truly are.

Wyatt smiles, and says between breaths, “Nice of you to join us.”

We’re both blood-spattered and panting. I dig the tip of my sword into the ground, fire sparking off the cobblestones, and rest my head against the side of the cart. “What’s the plan?”

“Surviving. If you can do that and push the enemy back past that waterwheel,” he says, pointing to a large mill in the middle of the square, “I’ll see you then.”

We both stand, and out of nowhere, an amazingly beautiful woman with long blond hair shoves me away and nearly takes off my head before Wyatt stops her. “He’s with us, sweetheart. Pass it on to your sisters.”

She kisses Wyatt full on the mouth and runs off. I point after her. “Who’s that?”

“One of the seven sisters. They’re Lucinda’s friends. You can’t miss them. Gorgeous, every last one of them.” He then dives back into the fight.

Something rolls under the cart. I sprint away, but I’m not fast enough and it explodes. I catch air and land in the dust a few feet away. I shake my head, trying to clear my ears. Someone shiny stands over me, and I shield my eyes as the helmet is yanked off and tossed to the ground.

Square jaw. Thick neck. Jason.

“Damn. When will people learn? Everyone gets killed when they hide behind the cart.”

His sword rises. I roll to the side, but the blow never comes. When I roll back, I see Baun wielding his metal staff, whirling it around his head and body, keeping Jason at a distance from me.

Jason grabs hold of his side and winces in pain. Baun’s weapon must have connected with Jason’s ribs. My former friend points at me and laughs. “You’re a lucky bastard.” He backs away, holding his arms wide. “Like what I’ve done with the place? Meet you at the hall.”

A loud whistle blows and Jason’s men retreat. I roll to my feet and rub my head. I’ve got to pay more attention to my surroundings. Baun leans against a stone pillar that appears to have no use other than to get in the way of a gamer’s hand-to-hand combat skills. I search the area, but I still don’t see Kera.

When the dust settles, Wyatt comes up to me and slams his sword into its sheath. “Figures the little shit is into this and not Call of Duty.”

“Did you see Kera?”

He takes out a bandanna and wipes his face. “She’s over by Reece. He got himself hurt again. I think he head-butted a guy wearing a helmet.”

“What about Leo?”

He squints over at me. “He’s not here.”

That doesn’t sound like Leo, and I frown. “When I left, he was waiting for you. Where is he?”

“I don’t know. He wasn’t around when we got there.”

I suddenly feel sick. “What about Bodog?”

“Haven’t seen him, either.”

“Lucinda?”

He snaps his fingers and points at me. “That I know. She took two of the sisters and left right after she talked to Bodog. I guess I did see him. But I haven’t since then.”

“Where’d they go?”

His lips curl in a wry smile. “You’re seriously asking me that? Like she’s going to tell me.”

An unbelievably beautiful brunette strolls up to Wyatt, all hips and jiggle. I can smell her sweat. It’s like strawberries and cream. She flings her arms around his neck and kisses him on the cheek. “Did I do well?”

He grabs her around the waist and gives her a squeeze. “You did fine, sweetheart.”

She squeals and gives him a huge kiss on the lips, wrapping one leg around his waist. PDA is not her problem.

I clear my throat, breaking them apart. She blinks her long, dark lashes at me, and I get the feeling she isn’t impressed with what she sees. I don’t care. I’ve got Kera. “Do you know where your sisters and Lucinda went?”

She looks askance at Wyatt and he nods. “If you know, I’d be grateful if you told him.”

“How grateful?”

He nuzzles her neck. “Very.”

She turns to me, all smiles and giggles. “She said she had to go collect a man.”

“Leo?”

“Yes. I believe that was his name.”

“Where?”

She shrugs her glossy shoulders and turns to Wyatt. “I await your promise over there,” she says, nodding toward the mill, then walks away.

We both stare after her. The way she walks. It really is impressive.

“Seven.” Wyatt holds up seven fingers. “And they all want me. I have my own variety pack.”

“They’re sisters.”

“Yeah. Cool, huh?”

Not my fantasy. All I want is one girl who loves me unconditionally, and that girl is Kera. I spot her talking to Baun. I don’t like the way he’s leaning toward her, like he’s sharing a secret or talking her into doing something she shouldn’t. Like letting him borrow her powers. I pat Wyatt on the back and start toward Kera, but not without one last warning. “Be careful. Any friend of Lucinda’s is probably not all human.”

“Hey, I checked. None of them are cats…or any other animal form.”

That may be, but there is something different about them. “Do what you want, dude, but be careful.”

When I get to Baun and Kera, I pull her close. “Leo’s gone.”

“Another friend of yours?” Baun asks. “I must admit, I’m impressed with the collection you have. Kera and I were just discussing your rise in popularity.”

I scowl, which is totally useless when it comes to his non-seeing self, and pull Kera into a patch of shade. “This game. Jason picked it for a reason. I’ve never been much of a gamer, but Leo said he and Jason would play it for hours. Leo’s my best bet for dealing with all the traps, but he’s nowhere in sight. I think Jason took him to keep him from helping me.”

“But Jason and Leo are friends. Jason wouldn’t hurt him. He wouldn’t,” she repeats when she sees my doubt.

Jason and I used to be friends, too. I squeeze her hand. “Let’s hope so.”

A commotion rises as a soldier races up to Wyatt and hands him a message. After he reads it, he curses and joins us in the shade. “Something is happening in the Unknown. There’s been a surge of magic.”

“What does that mean?”

“They can’t tell, but it doesn’t sound good.”

“A surge could mean anything,” Kera says.

A sharp laugh follows a wry curve of Baun’s lips. “Or it could mean they’ve found the transference method.”

“What’s that?

“It’s where they combine their magic and teleport themselves from one point to another. But nothing in the Unknown has that kind of power.”

“How are they doing it, then?”

Baun rubs the tip of his staff against the cobblestones, scarring lines on their surface. “Granel is giving them the knowledge. Someone else is giving them the power.”

Wyatt and I say at the same time, “Jason.”

“It can’t be him,” Kera reminds us. “He’s not a first.”

“There are secrets in the dark ways that even I don’t know, but Granel does. He’s spent his whole life digging into them. If there is a way to harvest power, he’s found it, and it’s looking like he’s given that ability to Jason.”

“Why give it to Jason?” Wyatt asks sounding as confused as I feel. “Why not use it himself?”

“Have you met Granel?” Baun asks, a slight sneer in his voice. “He’s smart. He’s tenacious, and he loves the dark arts. But all the power in the world cannot make you brave. I give him credit for knowing his own limits.”

“So he gives it to Jason,” I say, and look at Wyatt, “someone who has more balls than brains.”

Wyatt cusses. “I’m really beginning to not like that kid.”

I don’t want to admit it, but I have no idea how to stop the inevitable. Baun has more power, and more experience using it, than anyone here. But without his sight, he’s at a serious disadvantage. I don’t want to ask him, but I’d be a fool not to. “Do you have any suggestions on how to stop this?”

Baun, his eyes a sightless blue, stops rubbing the tip of his staff on the ground, and says in one word what I want to do, but have no chance at doing. “Win.”

Heartless

I’ve got to hand it to Jason. He wants me at the Hall of Whispers and he’s making sure I can get there without any trouble. The streets are behaving themselves and hold steady, but once we’re through they move in a chaotic jumble, effectively stopping us from going back. We’re at the doors to the great hall in no time.

Wyatt sent a few of his girlfriends with Reece to oversee the Unknown. Though each of those girls is better than ten men, they’re still not enough…but then nothing would be.

According to Baun, the only way to stop all this is for me to do a major beat-down on Jason, one I can’t do alone. I’m not at all happy, because that means I have to bring Baun and Kera along.

As we approach, Wyatt gives me a rundown of all the tricks that are embedded in the game. “The Hall of Whispers is the worst part of the game. Everyone bites it in there. He could use all the challenges, but then again, Jason seems to like surprises. He may have created his own traps.”

“How exciting,” I say, my sarcasm thick.

“We will be fine,” Baun insists. He isn’t listening to anything Wyatt is saying. Why would he? To him Wyatt is only a human.

Wyatt’s not dumb. He picks up on Baun’s attitude. “Oh yeah, I forgot,” he drawls, “this is all about magic and not about intellect.”

“Magic is the apex of intellect. That you don’t know it proves your ignorance.”

I cringe, but don’t say anything. Ignoring my dad is the only way I’ll stay sane at this point. If I delve too far into his character, I’m scared I’ll find something really nasty.

Wyatt leans close and whispers, “Man, your dad’s a sweetheart.”

“Sorry. He’s not used to interacting with people.” At least I hope that’s his problem.

“From what you’ve told me about him, I don’t think he ever did. But hey, don’t worry about it. We all have someone in the family we’re embarrassed about. I have Reece. You have him.”

“You wanna trade?” I ask.

“Hell no.” Wyatt stares up at the doors, and he’s suddenly all business. “I’m sending in two teams of three.” He points out the six men who volunteered to go in before us. “The entrance splits immediately in two. I’m sending one team right and the other left, so it doesn’t matter which way you choose. The teams will clear the way for you.”

I don’t like it. I’m not sure what Jason has planned, but if he’s as ticked off as he seems, it’s going to get rough in there.

“I’ll head up the last team,” Wyatt continues, “and make sure no one sneaks up on you.” He holds out his hand, and I take it. “Good luck. Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.”

I wish I had that kind of optimism. A signal from Wyatt is given and the first two teams enter the building.

I go to Kera and Baun. He’s now wearing a stripped-down version of what he had on earlier. More on the heavy leather side than inflexible steel. It’s far more lightweight and practical for what we’re about to encounter. I wouldn’t mind something similar and I tell him. He smiles and touches both mine and Kera’s shoulders. The next moment we’re decked out in leather and breathable material. I run my hand over the protective steel armbands and pull on the crossing bands that hold my sword against my back. The dark brown pants and ivory shirt fit well, and the leather overshirt is snug without being too tight.

Kera inspects the embellished bronze cuffs on her wrists and shins and the thick belt that wraps around her waist as well as her upper left thigh, where her dagger is now stored along with a few throwing stars. She smiles and brushes her hands along the soft fabric. “It’s similar to one I own. Thank you, Baun.”

She already has an outfit like this? Definitely not a getup for a delicate noble’s daughter. Why did I ever think she couldn’t take care of herself?

I don’t see the point in delaying any longer. The teams have most likely cleared the first couple of rooms by now. “Ready?” I ask.

Kera glances from me to Baun, then stares straight at the Hall of Whispers. “There is no other way?” Doubt and fear seep into her voice.

Baun cocks his head as if he’s eavesdropping on our conversation, and not very subtly. I take her hand and pull her around a corner out of earshot. Her skin is cool, yet slightly damp. I take her face between my hands and tilt it up to mine. “There are three of us and one of him. No way can he win. It’s not possible.”

“Even if he gained his power like Baun said, I don’t understand what he’s doing. Nothing he does makes sense. He’s destroying everything, even himself, because you can’t create something this massive and not cause yourself harm,” she says and motions to the city around us.

He told me what he wanted. Me dead. He wants to go into the human world with a ruthless army he can control and rule them all. “It doesn’t matter why he’s doing this. It will all be over soon. I promise.”

She hugs me, and I hold her tight. We stand there, glued together for a moment before I pull away. “We’re going to be all right.”

“I believe you.” She rises on her tiptoes and kisses me. It’s soft and sweet and drives me crazy. She knows exactly how to move, exactly where to touch me to make me want more. I don’t want this to end, but I know it has to. I step back and hold her at arm’s length and smile. “Where did you learn to kiss like that?”

She smiles back. “You.”

I think I love her even more. I pull her close for one more kiss. Linger, then yank away. That addictive feeling I get when I’m near her is taking over and I can’t allow it. Not now. “We have to go.”

She places her forehead against my chest and sighs. “I know.”

I take her hand and we return to Baun.

The three of us climb the steps to the hall and the massive oak doors. Baun hesitates and says in Wyatt’s direction, “You do know there are men surrounding the area?”

Wyatt and the three men with him turn. An arrow takes out the guy on Wyatt’s left. Everyone takes cover and Wyatt pushes us forward.

We enter the hall and the doors slam shut. I tug, but they don’t budge. On the other side we can hear the muffled shouts of Wyatt and his men. So much for our backs being watched.

Baun puts his hand on my arm, stilling my efforts to open the door. “The best way to help everyone is to find your friend and end this.”

He’s right. Though I hate to admit it.

The foyer splits to the right and left. Kera starts to the right and I stop her. Call me crazy, but I suddenly don’t trust the obvious. “Wyatt says there’s a cheat. We can skip a whole series of traps if we can figure out how to open this wall.” I motion to the wall in front of us covered in little buttons carved like tiny flowers. “Each button has to be pushed in the right order or else there’s an explosion and we all die. Unfortunately, he’s never been able to figure out the code.”

Kera stands back and searches for a pattern the way I do. Baun steps forward, a little too close. He runs his fingers over the tiny flowers. I call him back at the same moment he pushes a button, then another and another. In all, he pushes twelve buttons and the wall slides apart. Only then does my heart start beating again.

“We could have died!” I snap.

“I may be blind,” he says, stepping through the new doorway, “but I can feel what you fail to see.”

I take a deep breath. I don’t know how he did it, but I’m happy he did. It cuts down on a lot of time and energy.

When we enter the room, the wall closes behind us. Directly in front of us are wooden walls. “It’s a maze.” One massive, over-the-top maze. Wyatt didn’t mention this place. I turn to Kera and a piece of thick glass springs up between us. She pounds on it, but it’s solid. I turn to Baun and the same thing happens.

I don’t like it. Jason knows all three of us are here and has managed to separate us. For once, he’s thinking on his feet and adjusting his actions to fit the situation. My science teacher would call that evolution in action. I call it a sick and twisted mind.

The only way out now is to go forward. Alone.

In front of each of us is an entrance to the maze, and beside it is a map tacked to the wall. It shows where I am and the exit. The paper suddenly catches fire, rapidly disintegrating before I can fully study it. I pull it off the wall and try my best to put out the fire. Nothing I do works. I drop it and watch it burn to ash.

Kera’s map is in flames as well. The same is true for Baun’s, though it’s pretty funny, seeing as how he can’t see.

“What’s going on?” his muffled voice asks.

“We’re in a maze,” I yell.

He nods that he understands and takes his staff and taps out the area in front of him.

Kera steps forward. She’s wringing the bottom of her shirt. I’m just as nervous, more for her than me. I put my hand to the glass and she places hers on mine. “It’ll be all right. I’ll see you at the other end.”

She nods and I watch her disappear into the maze. The wood scrolls closed behind her, shutting her off from me. My heart races for a second and all sorts of wild thoughts course through my head. None of them are realistic. The only way I’ll see her again is if I make it through to the other side.

I move closer to the entrance and peek in. The walls and floors are made from the same slatted wood panels. I step through and my panel slides shut.

It’s then I find out it’s a timed event. The paneled floor starts to drop away and I hear it clatter and bounce on its way down. I step quickly, trying to remember the basic direction I need to go. I take a wrong turn and end up in a dead end. Running back, the floor is partially gone on the path I need to take. I back up and run, leap, hit the opposite wall, and push off with my legs. I land and roll forward, bounce to my feet, and sprint ahead. When I get to a change in direction, I wait for the floor to pick the direction for me. It’s a cheat, but Jason isn’t playing fair.

I get to the end of the maze and there isn’t a door. I try and force my way through. I firebomb the hell out of it. Nothing works. I then wait for the floor to catch up, thinking it will open then, but it doesn’t. I jump up and spread my arms and legs, bracing them against the walls as the floor drops away into a gaping hole.

Taking little hops, I maneuver up the wall to the top. I straddle the wall and see Kera. She had the same idea, sort of. While I was spread-eagled, her hands are pressed against one wall and her feet are against the other. There’s no way she’ll be able to grab the top and swing out. I stand on the narrow wall and balance my way over to her.

“Need help?”

She cocks her head to the side and peers up at me. “Please.”

I straddle the wall, grab her arms, and pull her up beside me.

“Did you help Baun?” she asks.

“I didn’t see him.”

Because he’s blind and slow, the chances of him surviving aren’t good. Kera’s lips thin and her eyes shimmer like cut glass. “What do we do now?”

A metal staff strikes the wall beside our dangling legs and we look down. Baun is standing on the outside of the maze, perfectly safe and sound. I take Kera’s hands and lower her to the ground beside him and then jump down. “How’d you get out?”

“I used magic.”

“I tried and it didn’t work.”

“Me, too,” Kera admits.

“I’m better at it,” he says with a grin.

We hurry to a door on the far side of the back wall and enter a large room held up by columns and arches. The cavernous room is perfectly white and has the feel of a cathedral to it. At the far end of the room is a huge machine encased in a glass dome. Lights whiz around the outside of it. We can clearly see a multitude of gears clank together, faster and faster, until the machine hums loudly. Jason stands within the dome, his arms raised as crackles of energy fly from his fingertips. On seeing him, we duck behind a thick column. When I peek around, I get the impression there’s something different about Jason, though I can’t place what it is.

A flash of light coming from the dome shoots toward the middle of the room and a loud pop sounds. A small hole suddenly appears in midair, crackling with the same energy that’s in the machine, and it begins to grow.

Baun cocks his head and listens. “What is that?”

I describe what I’m seeing and Baun frowns. “This is bad news. He’s made a machine that generates magnetic energy he can use to create a portal into the Unknown.”

Jason leaves the dome and squats by something near one of the pillars. It’s Leo. He’s tied and gagged like a bad-tempered mule outside a glue factory. “You should’ve picked sides better,” he yells over the hum.

Leo sends Jason a withering glare.

“You may be okay with being his errand boy,” Jason taunts, “but I have better things to do than follow him around.”

Kera taps my arm and points to a spot low to the floor. It’s a familiar white ball of fluff. Lucinda blends in so well, if Kera hadn’t pointed her out, I wouldn’t have seen her.

Unfortunately, Jason notices her, too, and sends a nasty blast her way. In cat form, Lucinda is powerless. The blast sends her little body crashing into the wall, where she crumples to the floor.

Kera gasps and my jaw stiffens. “I think it’s time Jason knows we’re here,” I say.

I step into full view. When Jason turns, he sees me, and it’s then I get a really good look at him, and what I see isn’t good. He’s aged ten years. With all the magic he’s using, it’s tearing up his body, and he doesn’t even know it.

“Only you?” He shakes his head in mock sorrow. “Your dad and your girlfriend gone in one day. That’s tragic.”

“What’s tragic is you thinking you’re smarter than you really are.” I quickly shoot a series of fireballs his way. He dives behind the nearest stone pillar as sparks burst in every direction.

Jason gets to his feet and actually laughs. “Good job, Dylan.”

Is he really that cocky that he’s not upset to see me?

Kera steps out and throws one of her stars. It zips past Jason, and with a bit of magic, she causes it to spin back and sink into his hand.

He grimaces, pulls it out, and glares at Kera. “I actually felt bad thinking you were gone. Now I’m sorry I gave you a second thought.” He holds up his hand and watches the last of his wound heal. “Awesome trick, huh Dylan? I bet you don’t have that one.” He whips the star at me. Kera darts over and catches it, then sends it back. He dodges it this time and snags it from the air, throwing it to the ground where it embeds in the rock. “Are we done playing with toys?”

When Baun steps out, I see a flash of fear enter Jason’s eyes. Baun bends and touches the floor. It ripples across the room and shakes the area where Jason is standing.

He sends a hot energy bolt toward Baun. I don’t know how Baun does it, but he blindly catches the bolt with his staff, swings it, and sends it back. It totally catches Jason off guard, and he’s thrown across the room behind a pillar.

“Touch the floor,” Baun yells. “It’s the fastest way to send all the power we have to collapse the gateway and stop the transference.”

It’s then I notice the little hole has grown bigger. We do as he says. The lights flutter. The room shakes. The noise of stone jostling stone is deafening. Part of the floor begins to liquefy. All we’re doing is weakening the hall, not the magic that connects to the Unknown. The power is still humming along, though at a slower pace.

Jason reappears, dragging a still-bound Leo beside him. He tosses Leo a few feet in front of the growing portal and ties a rope around Leo’s bound wrists. He then throws the other end through the growing hole. A sudden tug jerks Leo to the floor and drags him toward the portal. He rolls until he can splay his legs out and dig his heels against the floor. His rubber soles squeak as he’s slowly pulled closer to the Unknown and all the nasty things within it.

Fake sadness crosses Jason’s face. “I wouldn’t want to be him. Have you seen what those dark souls do to a guy? Nasty. But I’ll tell you what.” He draws his sword. “We can end this now. You and me, Dylan. Let’s see if you’re as good as you think you are. If you beat me, everyone walks away unharmed and I leave.”

He’s got to be kidding. His ego has gotten crazy big if he thinks he can beat me. I’m the real deal. He’s just putting on a show. I stand and draw my sword, ready and willing to give him the beat-down of his life.

The portal grows bigger. Leo is pulled closer to it. I can’t waste time playing games. I rush Jason. Our swords connect. Metal pounds metal. Though I’m taller, he has weight on his side. He’s like a bull, pushing me back.

Kera shouts a warning even as she pours the magic she has into weakening the floor. I’m suddenly in the eye of the portal and I nearly trip over Leo, but manage to spin away only to have Jason grab me from behind and knock my sword out of my hand. I grasp his sword hilt and we grapple. There’s a reason he’s a state wrestling champion. This is a fight I can’t win, and he knows it. Equally strong, it’s all about technique, which he has and I don’t.

I feel myself slipping and I use the arm-twist Grandpa used on Wyatt. Miraculously, Jason drops to his knees. His sword clatters to the ground. But he’s more limber than Wyatt. He twists and punches my knee. Pain rips through my leg. I push him away. We each grab our swords. As soon as I touch mine, it flares back to life. We face each other again, and as we circle around, my knee burns where Jason hit it. It’s going to give. I feel my bones click, my muscles stretch too far. I ignore the pain and lunge forward, bringing my sword down on his. The power from that blow cracks my blade and the fire goes out.

Jason slashes his sword down and cuts a gash into my arm. I stagger back as he laughs. “You’re making it too easy to kill you.”

I lose my temper. I toss my sword aside and light up—full burning man on display. He’s not laughing now. I get so hot, the hair on Jason’s head singes into nubs. He lashes out, but the tip of his blade melts before it touches me. I haul back and slam my fist into his face, angry at everything he’s done.

He swings wide. I punch him again. Hard. He staggers back. I go in for another hit that rocks him back on his heels. Dipping back, I jump into the last hit, knocking Jason out.

“Dylan!” Kera yells.

I twist around and see Leo’s arms pulled taut, his fingers only inches from the portal. Before I can move, a white cat jumps toward him. Lucinda morphs into human form and cuts the rope. Leo collapses onto his back and scoots away from the portal and the creatures waiting on the other side, mumbling against his gag that he’s okay.

With Leo safe, I stand over Jason and stare at his battered face. My heat instantly cools. I don’t like what I’ve done, and I feel a moment of regret.

“It’s not working,” I hear Baun yell. “We need to combine our power. It’s the only way we can stop the evil in the Unknown from coming through.”

I’m beside Kera in an instant. If Baun thinks either of us is going to give him our power, he’s crazy. I see Kera waffling and I place myself between them, leveling a serious glare at her. “Don’t you do it.”

Her pupils dilate. “But he’s right. It’s not working.”

The machine spins faster as power surges through it. That’s not our only problem. The chamber is weak, and the walls have begun to crumble. Plaster sprinkles down from the ceiling. The portal inches wider, revealing all manner of beasts waiting to emerge from the Unknown.

“If we don’t act now, we will lose our chance to stop what your friend has put into motion. Our power is too entrenched in each of us. It needs to be combined in order to work.”

He’s right. I know it…and I have only one solution. I clamp my hand on to Kera’s arm.

She instinctually tries to pull away. “What are you doing?”

“I’m giving you my power.”

Baun takes an aimless step forward and holds out his hand for me to stop. “No. You don’t underst—”

I don’t wait to hear what he has to say. I send everything I have into her. She gasps against the glow of my hand, and when it’s over, I look back at Baun. His face has visibly paled. I grab his hand and place it on Kera’s arm. “Give her your powers,” I tell him. It’s an order, not a request.

His sightless eyes blink rapidly, the shock of what I’ve done written plainly on his face.

“It’s the only way now,” I yell over the whirl of the machine. “If you really care about Teag, give Kera your power!”

“You don’t know what you’ve just done. What you’re forcing her to do.”

The machine spins faster. The portal grows and shows the Unknown clearly on the other side. It won’t be long before it’s ready. “We’re running out of time.”

His hand glows. Kera’s body arches. Her eyes turn a bright magenta and then fade to a dark violet. He steadies her and pulls her close. “You now have the ability to take Jason’s power,” he says. “Do you understand what I’m saying? You must do it now, Kera, before he gets away.”

Sure enough, Jason has regained consciousness and is creeping toward the door. But there’s only one way a first can take someone else’s power. My stomach drops. I can’t believe what I’ve just done. He’s telling Kera she has to kill Jason. It’s the only way she can collect his power, because even in the sad shape he’s in, he won’t willingly give it up. And if he manages to kill Kera, then he’ll be the sole owner of all our power. There will be no stopping him then.

We stare at each other. Her lips part. My head spins. I grab her like she’s the only thing keeping me from falling over, and I whisper in her ear, “I messed up. I can’t let you—”

“You don’t have a say anymore. Stay here.” She pulls away and takes a step back. Then another and another, her face so beautiful, yet determined. She quickly turns and runs after Jason, who’s on his feet and stumbling toward the door.

The Living Dead

Kera dove through the door. She expected to see Jason, weak and hurting, desperate to get away. Instead, he stood with his back to her. When he turned around, she saw the last of his bruises disappear. He had managed to heal himself. But the effort aged him a little more. Although his body still appeared fit, his hair had thinned and had started to gray at the temples.

“They sent you?” His eyebrows shot up. “Why would they do that?”

The ground rumbled beneath them. Time was running out. “You need to give me your power, Jason.”

“You’re kidding, right? This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I finally have the ability to do whatever I want, and no one can stop me. You’ve seen a few movies. They’re made about this kind of thing.”

“Except in a movie, you would be the villain.”

He looked truly surprised. “Because I killed someone? I’m like the Punisher. Everyone who died got what they deserved.”

“But you’re trying to kill Dylan. He’s your friend.”

He stepped forward, a predatory look in his eye, and she backed away. “He left me.”

The accusation in his voice sent shivers down Kera’s spine.

“I died,” he snarled, “and then by some weird fluke that even he doesn’t understand, he brought me back to life. But he still left me, buried underneath that tree. He didn’t mean to bring me back. It just happened, like a hiccup. I’m a living mistake.”

He didn’t know how right his statement was. His hand snaked out and he grasped her by the throat and slammed her against the wall. He leaned close and snarled in her face. “So, no, Kera. I’m not going to give you my powers. They’re mine. I deserve this. Every day I get a little bit stronger, and soon, I’m going to be as powerful as Dylan. When that happens, I will kill him.”

He pushed her up until her toes left the floor. She clawed at his fingers. “We don’t have to do this,” she strangled out. “If you give me your powers, we can all live.”

“Wow, and they say I’m dumb.” He squeezed harder. “I’m not okay with that.”

She suddenly stilled. “Neither am I.”

Her body lit up as power poured into her. She wrapped her legs around his waist at the same time she yanked his shirt up and over his head, breaking his hold as she drove his arms apart. Nimble as an acrobat, she circled his body, twisting his shirt around his neck, and pulled.

He tried to break free. She pulled harder. He dropped to his knees, gurgling for air. Tears rolled down her face as she pulled harder. This wasn’t Jason. Not really. When Dylan had brought him back, it hadn’t been complete. She’d felt the anger inside him, had wanted to see something good, but it was all gone. He’d become a zombie, a living body without a soul.

It wasn’t Jason she destroyed, but her heart still burned with sadness as his body jerked against her hold for the last time. When he finally grew still, she slowly lowered him to the ground.

This wasn’t Jason. Still…

Dropping to her knees, she bent over his body and cried.

Live or Let Die

It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, letting Kera go like that. The ceiling cracks. The floor rumbles. Sections of the ceiling fall, and I cover my head to protect myself. Dust coats everything¸ even my lungs. They spasm, bending me over in an effort to breathe. When I straighten, I see Lucinda untying Leo. The floor suddenly buckles, wave after wave flowing from where Baun stands to where Leo lies. It’s only a matter of seconds before the floor caves in.

Leo or Baun. Her indecision is clear.

Baun calls to her. Her expression saddens. She can’t save them both. She touches Leo’s arm and the next instant they’re gone. There’s no one left but me. I race over to Baun, drop to my knees, and slide toward the rift that suddenly appears and starts to grow. I miraculously catch his hand as the floor collapses under him. It feels like I’m hanging on to a ton of rock. My shoulder aches. Baun grunts as he tries to climb.

I suck in a deep breath and call with every bit that I have left. “Kera!”

I have no idea where she went or how far away she is. The hall is disintegrating around us and we don’t have much time. I look down at Baun. His eyes are mine. Ever since I was old enough to wonder who my father was, I always wondered what traits I got from him. My eyes. My jaw. My hair color.

I feel his hand slip. “Hold on,” I beg.

I swing my other arm over and latch on to his wrist. It feels like I’m going to fall over with him.

Out of the corner of my eye I see movement. It’s Kera. She steps inside the dome and pulls the power back to her, reversing the spin of the energy. The power she’s absorbing lights up the dome so brightly, I can’t look anymore. Then it all turns dark and the humming stops. The portal grows large for a split second and then rapidly shrinks to nothing, cutting off the howls of anger coming from the Unknown.

My dad’s hand slips a little more. I grit my teeth. After weeks of having the most intense power flow through me, I’m all human. It’s humbling. Frustrating. Scary. Giving Kera all my power condemned my father to die. I can see that in his eyes. He knows. He’s just waiting for me to accept it.

Then, from behind me, someone touches my back. A hot flood of magic spirals into me. I pull my dad up and turn. Kera hugs me. I push her at arm’s length. I can’t see any change in her for what she’s done, though from my own experience, I know it must be there. She ducks away, uncomfortable with me staring, and tucks herself under my dad’s shoulder.

Holding him between us, we sprint out of the white room. Kera leads us through a jumble of different rooms, all falling apart around us. One of the teams Wyatt sent ahead of us lies dead in one room. I can only guess the other team met a similar fate. We bust through the front foyer and race out of the Hall of Whispers a few steps ahead of its collapse. When we glance back, all that’s left is a hole in the ground and a massive jumble of stone.

The Undoing

I stand before the council in a chamber made of carved stone. How ironic is it that my father has chosen the Ruined City, the very place he nearly died, as his seat of power? Ironic and sickening.

Hadrain, the head councilman, bangs his gavel and calls for quiet. I’ve stirred their emotions with my demands. No one is on my side. “You managed to divert the invasion of the Unknown, and for that we are grateful, but the dark souls are still loose. Our king is the only one who can control them.”

“Why can’t Kera do it now?” I ask.

The place erupts in disbelief. It’s a logical question. I don’t know why they’re getting so uptight about it.

One of the councilmen stands and leans over the table as if the proximity of his answer will help me understand the error of my ways. “She doesn’t have the experience or the authority to do so.”

“Then teach her.” Duh.

Hadrain shakes his head. “It is not a teachable skill.”

I point in the direction of the stairs. “Right now, she is giving him the power he obtained by killing hundreds of your own people.”

“He is changed,” another councilman says.

A chorus of agreement sweeps the room and I have to shout to be heard. “So he says.”

Hadrain pounds his gavel and the room quiets. His kind, scholarly eyes hold mine. “He cannot lie.”

“That you know of.”

“Do you have evidence to contradict me?”

A wild laugh escapes me, and I have to take a deep breath to control my emotions. “No. The funny thing is, I don’t think he can lie, either. Power corrupts. He’s already shown you his weakness. You have to stop this. If you give it all back, he runs a real risk of falling back into his old habits. Do you want that?”

“No, but denying a man—and not just any man, our king—his power is not done.”

“Then I beg the council to think long and hard before you again give your unlimited allegiance to my father.”

The room quiets, and I turn around and see Baun standing in the doorway with Kera by his side. Everyone stands and bows, and Hadrain sweeps his hand toward a chair.

The way they all grovel in front of him makes my jaw ache. Baun lets go of Kera and takes his seat. He flexes his hands on the armrests. “Thank you all. I feel much better.”

I bet he does. I stare at Kera, who joins me near her father. I can’t even guess at her reasoning for doing what she did. She had the ability to stop all this, but she didn’t.

“Why?” I whisper to her.

“It is his birthright, as it is yours. One day, you will own his portion. Would you want someone to take it from you and not give it back?”

“I didn’t want you to keep it all, just not give it all back to him in one big dump.”

“I heard you the first time.”

“…and let it be known that until the day I have wholly obtained the confidence of my people, only then will I be given the full extent of my powers.” My father’s declaration captures my attention. Our eyes meet and I can’t hide my surprise.

His gaze slips to Kera and his lips tip in the smallest of smiles. “Let it be so.”

“Let it be so,” the council repeats.

A smile lights Kera’s face. “And you say I never listen to you.”

I uncross my arms and within the creases of her skirt, I hold her hand.

“Now to the repeal of certain laws and ordinances.”

The rest of the afternoon, Baun, the king of Teag, reverses all mandates that made human blood a crime. The dungeons were to be cleaned of all innocents and the people would accept any soul, first or otherwise, who abided by the laws and dictates of the land without causing harm, distress, or public embarrassment to said souls.

When I get Kera outside and away from the Ruined City, I roll out a blanket in a field of wildflowers, and I hold her close. “You’re tricky. I didn’t know you had it in you.” I smile. “It’s totally hot.”

“Doing what you want makes me tricky?”

“And hot. A guy needs to know his woman isn’t a complete idiot.”

She sits up, her face full of horror. “You thought I was an idiot?’

“No, I thought you were like everyone else—totally captivated by his charm.”

“He does have a lot of charm,” she says with a straight face.

“You’d make a great poker player. I thought I was talking to a stubborn but very beautiful girl who only wants me for my body.”

She stares into my eyes and takes my hands in hers. “So it’s that obvious?” She kisses each palm. Then she moves to my cheeks. Then my lips.

I roll her onto her back and hold her arms above her head. “I like obvious.” I nuzzle her neck. “It takes the guesswork out of it.” I kiss her very kissable lips, and when I pull away I hear a sigh that doesn’t come from her.

We both tilt our heads to see Bodog sitting on the edge of our blanket staring at us.

“Can I help you?” I really have no desire to help him do anything but leave, but he’s been very sensitive lately.

“The mean old woman wants you home.”

After the portal was closed and the Unknown secured, I went straight to my grandparents’ house. I wanted to make sure they, and everyone else, was safe. Safe is a relative term. The wall is still deteriorating, but now I have others who can help us secure the barrier and keep what needs to stay in Teag, in Teag.

“She also says the kitty has to go.”

Leo took Lucinda home and introduced her to his dad, who introduced her to Grandma. Grandma wasn’t impressed. “Tell her we’ll be there for dinner and that the kitty isn’t my problem. She’s Leo’s problem.”

I turn and kiss Kera again, but I feel Bodog’s eyes on us. Stopping, I ask again, “Anything else?”

Bodog looks at Kera. “Signe needs love advice.”

“Tell her I’ll stop by after dinner.”

He nods, and I again kiss Kera. Another sigh sounds, and it still isn’t coming from her. I rip my mouth from Kera’s and snap. “What? Why are you still here, Bodog?”

“Reece is leaving.”

“Yeah? And?”

“Halim will follow.”

“Not surprised. The kid worships him. Anything else?”

“Wyatt is in danger, and Bodog is bored.” He rocks back and forth, his floppy ears jiggling against his head.

We both stare at him openmouthed. Kera pushes to her elbows and looks hard at Bodog. “Did you say Wyatt is in danger?”

“He is with the seven sisters.”

Kera pushes me off and I let her. Our fun time is at an end. She sits up, shoving her hair out of her eyes. “He’s what?”

I snort. “Why is that bad? He seemed thrilled about his harem last time I talked to him.”

“The seven sisters are bad. They only want Wyatt for one thing.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty obvious what that is.”

She smacks me on my chest. “No. It’s not. They will kill him. They’re sirens. It’s what they do.”

I bolt upright and point to Bodog. “I knew it. I knew there had to be something creepy going on with them.”

“We have to tell him.” Kera starts to get up.

Bodog shoots to his feet. “Bodog did.”

That stops Kera. “What did he say?”

“He can take care of himself.”

That has me lying back down. “Nothing we can do about it, then.”

She straightens, confusion on her face. “Isn’t he concerned?”

I twirl a long strand of her hair. “It doesn’t sound like it.”

She turns to me. “But this is serious.”

“Kera, he’s been warned. He’s a grown man. He’ll do what he wants.”

I pull her down beside me and wrap her long hair around my fist. I love the feel of her hair—like silk—and I rub it against my cheek. “Kiss me.”

“But shouldn’t we—”

“I’ll have someone keep an eye on him.” I pull her closer and kiss her, and pretty soon she forgets about what she was saying.

A heavy sigh tumbles from Bodog.

“Ground rules.” I point in the general direction of Ainsbury Cross and Faldon’s home, which is now mine, while I continue to kiss Kera senseless.

Bodog rises and as he walks away, I hear him recite the rules we established when I agreed to have him live with me, aboveground. “Number one. Don’t bring Bodog food in the house. Bugs stay outside. Number two. Say please and thank you. Number three. When Kera is over, Bodog will say a polite hello and then leave if Dylan gives him the signal. Number four. Never should Bodog ever…”

Dream a Little Dream

I’ve been sleep-deprived for days, living off the energy I pull from the earth. It’s not healthy.

I’m back in the human realm, and in my bed. Today was by far the worst one I’ve ever lived through. Grandpa and I delivered Jason’s body to his mom. I didn’t even know he had a mom.

There was a lot of screaming and crying and bad feelings directed at me. I get she has to blame someone for her loss. First her husband and then her son. Grandma said the woman didn’t even bat an eye when Carl died. But Jason…his loss hurt her deep, even though he’d snapped in the end. She chose to remember the boy who made her laugh when she wanted to cry, and live when she wanted to die. Her words, not mine.

We held a town meeting and I tried to explain what was happening. Reece and Wyatt stood by me and confirmed everything I said. Leo introduced Lucinda. First as a woman and then as a cat. That part was a bit comical, seeing their jaws drop when she went all four-legged white and hissy. The pux fascinated them. Stories of the millispits terrified them. Faldon’s presence in Bodog’s staff had many of them making the sign of the cross. I wisely kept Bodog away. In the end, we got a team together, one that will patrol the wall and report any unusual happenings to Grandpa.

Kera is in Teag, organizing her own meetings and helping those who’ve been displaced by the recent upheaval. Kera and I have decided to split our time between the two realms, helping out where we can. Seeing us actively trying to improve their lives takes the edge off everyone’s nervousness when we’re around. In Teag, Baun supports me as his son and heir, and in the human realm Grandpa has my back. Not everyone is on my team, but for now, no one is trying to sideline me permanently.

When things settle down, I promised Kera we’d live our own life, away from the craziness of the conjoined realms. To be with Kera and lead a normal life is all I’ve ever wanted. I think the idea is starting to grow on her.

I hear Grandma cleaning up dinner, hear her sing in soft bluesy tones, and my conscious thoughts slowly fade to black. I haven’t dreamed in so long, I forgot how vibrant they can be. I find myself outside, standing on the dirt road behind the farmhouse. I can smell the rain on the trees, and feel a slight mist in the air. The Northwest’s muted light doesn’t cut deeply into the forest behind me, causing the shadows to appear heavy. I hear a cracking sound and see the treetops shake. That feeling I got when I saw the tri-top that kidnapped Kera settles in my gut.

I take a step back. Then another step and another as whatever is coming through the woods gets closer. A flock of pux bursts from the woods. They buzz past me, for once uninterested in mischief, only escape. The crack of wood being bent too far grows. The sound of leaves shaking from their limbs silences all other sounds.

Quiet.

It’s scarier than all the noise preceding it. The sound of nothing disorients me for a second, and then from out of the shadows steps Navar. He holds two leads attached to a pair of devil hounds that strain against their restraints.

I’m frozen to the spot. He’s taken on solid form. Like the man he was. He stops, still lingering within the trees, and tucks his free hand in his pants pocket. It’s such an ordinary thing to do. A human, alive thing to do.

“Interesting,” he says as he glances around the landscape and my grandparents’ backyard. “I’ve never been to the human realm before. It’s very…ordinary.”

“Go back to Teag.” It’s a command that is low and threatening. Even so, I’m not sure I can make him obey.

“I would, really, but you see, I quite like exploration. Discovering new lands. I have plans. Big plans.”

The devil hounds snip and yip at oen another, all four heads a mass of viciousness. Figures Navar would adopt a few. Seeing them makes me wonder if he’s alone. “Where’s your little pet, Granel?”

“Kenneled. For now.”

I’m pretty sure that means he’s still in the Unknown. That should make me relax, but it doesn’t. “What do you want here?”

“Oh, it’s not just me. I have friends who have the same interests.”

I don’t really want to know, but he’s come such a long way to scare the shit out of me, I feel the need to accommodate him. “And those would be?”

“Death.”

One moment he’s smiling his pretty-boy smile, and the next he’s an inky slash charging straight for me. Behind him, the darkness I took for shadows expands and dozens of dark souls swoop down. They burn the farm, the livestock, the very air I’m breathing. They sweep over everything, charring the earth, sucking all the life out of it until I’m standing on a lone patch of green.

Navar’s dark face appears in an inky streak and he hisses, “Something is missing.” His streak darts high into the sky, hovers for a moment, then peers down at me. “It’s you.”

His mouth opens wide as he dives straight for me, and I’m swallowed into a nightmarish abyss.

My eyes pop open. Sweat clings to my skin. I cover my face and rub the dream from my eyes as I let a ragged, tension-filled sigh escape.

“Nightmares?”

That raspy, wooden voice sounds familiar. I drop my hands, prop myself up on my shoulders, and see a small body squatting behind a stick. Bodog slowly rises and brings Faldon closer.

I don’t question why they’re here. Bodog has set himself up as my guardian, and Faldon is dependent on the little man to take him where he wants to go, which coincidentally is usually somewhere close to me.

I have no doubt they can hear the thudding of my heart. I would explain my dream, but somehow, I think he already knows. “I thought my fight with Navar was over.”

Eyes blink under his heavy bark eyebrows. His lips crack open. “You couldn’t be more wrong. It’s just begun.”

Acknowledgments

I had the greatest time writing this part of Dylan’s and Kera’s story. There are quite a few people who I need to thank for getting me through the process of putting this book into a readable story. So hang on. The list isn’t short.

My family. They put up with my craziness and understand when I have to sequester myself from them for long periods of time in order to write. They are amazing and I love them dearly.

My editors. Stacy Cantor Abrams and Kaleen Harding. Yes, that is not a misprint. I require two. Apparently I’m so amazing it takes more than one to deal with me (sigh). But they are amazing and supportive and everything I’ve ever wanted in editors. Thank you, ladies, for helping me make The Fallen Prince into a better story.

My critique group, Tammy Bauman, Louise Bergin, and Robin Perini. They are the toughest, pickiest readers I’ve ever met, and I’m so thankful they are. They make me look good for my editors. Not an easy job, because I bite back.

My boys, in alphabetical order so as to hide which ones are my favorite (grin), Leroy Bazan, Mike Connally, Chris Garcia, Ryan Gomez, Reece Killebrew, Ji Kim, Julio Martinez, Bubba McDaniel, and Mark Morgenstern. These are the talented kickboxers, boxers, and MMA fighters who keep me from shriveling up into a ball of mush. I allow them to kick my butt…most of the time. Again, I’ve been known to bite back.

Martin Manrique. Thanks for being so patient, lending me books (which I still need to give back to you), and demonstrating certain wrestling moves. One of these days I’ll figure out exactly what you’re saying without going, “Could you show me what you mean one more time?”

Logan Sims. Ditto with what I said about Martin except you never lent me any books (grin). Thank you for putting up with me and my endless questions about the Army as well as kickboxing and self-defense. I know I became a huge pain and many times you wished I’d just go away. Wishing is too subtle, dude. You’re going to have to use your words.

As a sub-note: Any errors in regard to the military and MMA aspects of this story are solely my fault. It has been pointed out to me more than once by a certain person (Logan) that I’m not the best listener, I talk too much, and I have no patience (frown). I’m not sure what he’s trying to say, but I felt the need to include that information here.

And finally, I’d like to thank my publisher, the awesome Liz Pelletier, for being so supportive and giving Dylan and Kera a place to tell their story (yes, I know they aren’t real, but it’s fun to pretend, okay?), and my agent, Laurie McLean, who gives me awesome advice and takes care of my fragile ego by telling me to suck it up and get creative. Love ya, too.

Don’t miss My Super Sweet Sixteenth Century

by Rachel Harris

Available online and in stores now!

On the precipice of her sixteenth birthday, the last thing lone wolf Cat Crawford wants is an extravagant gala thrown by her bubbly stepmother and well-meaning father. So even though Cat knows the family’s trip to Florence, Italy, is a peace offering, she embraces the magical city and all it offers. But when her curiosity leads her to an unusual gypsy tent, she exits . . . right into Renaissance Firenze.

Thrust into the sixteenth century armed with only a backpack full of contraband future items, Cat joins up with her ancestors, the sweet Alessandra and protective Cipriano, and soon falls for the gorgeous aspiring artist Lorenzo. But when the much-older Niccolo starts sniffing around, Cat realizes that an unwanted birthday party is nothing compared to an unwanted suitor full of creeptastic amore. Can she find her way back to modern times before her Italian adventure turns into an Italian forever?

Keep reading for a teaser chapter…

ChapterOne

I’m trapped.

I concentrate on the monitor in front of me and scan through the in-flight entertainment, attempting to tune out Jenna. Like that’s even possible. When my dad’s bubbly fiancée gets this excited, I swear sometimes only dogs can hear her.

We’ve been on this plane for over six hours. I woke up less than an hour ago, cramped, cranky, and carb-deprived, and yet the woman insists on being perky. It’s as if she were born with caffeine in her veins.

“Cat, do you know what this means?!?”

I quirk an eyebrow at Dad, but judging by his all-consuming interest in the newspaper, his stance of neutrality is in full effect. To tell you the truth, it’s not his impartiality that hurts. It’s knowing that by staying out of it, what he’s really doing is taking her side.

And moving further away from mine.

I settle for a crappy rerun and decide to throw the evil step-witch-in-training a bone. I lean forward and look across the aisle, catching a glimpse of her flying fingers on her BlackBerry—thank goodness they have in-flight Wi-Fi, or she might’ve actually wanted to bond. “No, tell me, Jenna. What does it mean?”

“It means your party is practically a shoo-in for the show!”

My party. Right. As if anything about this is for me. If Jenna really cared about me, you’d think she’d have clued in to the fact that anything involving crowds, paparazzi, and scrutiny isn’t exactly my thing. She refuses to grasp that while I might be a daughter of Hollywood, it doesn’t mean I’m a product of it. If anything, this party is for her.

Jenna’s too excited by her coup to notice my lack of reaction. She leans over Dad and gushes, “The buzz on this is absolutely unreal. Your party is going to be the biggest, flashiest event I’ve ever put together!”

Yay, me.

I turn back to the television and pick up my headphones.

Unfortunately, that does nothing to deter her. “You can even sketch caricatures of the guests as they come in the door if you want.” She flashes a brilliant smile, like she’s doing me a huge favor. “Adds a fun, kitschy element to the whole thing, don’t ya think?”

No, I don’t think. I’m an artist, not a street performer.

She kisses Dad on the cheek, then rubs her thumb over the coral lipstick stain, and I watch him turn to mush. He’s so whipped. “Order me a Diet Coke if the cart thingy comes by, ’kay?” Jenna says. “I’m off to brave the bathroom line!”

I shake my head as she haltingly maneuvers down the aisle and stumbles into a woman’s lap. Jenna turns on her hundred-watt grin, tosses her poufy blond hair, and apologizes profusely. Then she plops herself on the woman’s armrest, abandoning all thought of bathroom trips in lieu of getting better acquainted with her new bestie.

Whatever. At least her ADD works for me, I think as I slide into her vacated seat, lay my head against Dad’s shoulder, and inhale the familiar scent of his spicy aftershave and Armani cologne. He wraps an arm around me, and I snuggle closer. It’s quiet moments like this when I can imagine things are back to normal. Before he fell in love with someone completely wrong for him.

Dad kisses the top of my head. “Thank you.”

I lift my head slightly, not willing to move out of his embrace just yet, and shoot him a puzzled look. “For?”

“For letting Jenna throw you a Sweet Sixteen. You may not believe it, but she has the best of intentions.”

Sure she does. I glance forward to see her slap the armrest and let out a high-pitched squeal. The only intention Jenna has is having her event-planning business showcased on MTV. Date someone famous, get his daughter on television, and generate mad buzz for your business—not bad for nine months of work.

I glance back at Dad. Why can’t he see how fake she is? It’s like ever since she came into the picture, he’s had blinders on, only seeing this giggly blond happy person—who is nothing like me.

“Jenna had one when she turned sixteen,” he continues. “She said it was, and I quote, ‘the highlight of her adolescent experience.’”

He rolls his eyes and grins, and the pressure in my chest lessens. He hasn’t changed. We’re still us, even with her around. Then his forehead wrinkles and he shifts uncomfortably, and that guilty look creeps back into his eyes.

Crap. Here it comes.

“Peanut, I know you’re always trying to take care of me, but I’m the grown-up. And it’s my job to look out for you. I want you to have at least one normal childhood experience.”

I snort. “Normal. Right.” With a teasing grin, I lean back a little and lift my eyebrows in disbelief. “Dad, I hate to break it to you, but we live in Beverly Hills. And while having your birthday party and private life broadcast around the world for entertainment purposes may be an unfortunate reality for media-obsessed brats, I don’t think anyone would call that behavior normal.”

Dad chuckles, and I gift him with a confident smirk. “Besides, when have we ever done anything like the rest of Hollywood?”

And the defense rests, I think, sitting back with a nod. Dad can’t argue with that logic. If it weren’t for our zip code and my fancy, overpriced education, you’d never know we had money. Although he’s a well-known film director and has a handful of Golden Globes, Dad has this thing about “normalcy.” I’ve never missed a day of school in my life, and he rarely takes on projects during the summer. That’s time for family and vacations, but none of that “private jet to remote locations” stuff for the Crawfords. Nope, we go to good old Disney World and the beach, with the occasional stop at a film set in Canada to spice things up. We don’t even have a maid or a cook.

Dad squeezes me tighter. “You’re right, we’re abnormal. But I still think it’s a good idea.” My head lolls against my seat, and he smiles. “It’s a party; it’ll be fun. Plus, I’m already doing a major suck-up job bringing you to Italy. Doesn’t that earn me any negotiating cred?”

I have to admit, if everyone has a price, a trip to Florence would be mine. I’ve been obsessed with my Italian heritage—the only thing I accept from Mommy Dearest—and the Renaissance ever since I saw Bernard van Orley’s Madonna and Child with Apples and Pears painting in fourth grade. Since then, I’ve inhaled every art book and novel on the time period or on Italy that I can find.

As bribes go, the trip is a good one.

Still, there’s no way I can let Dad off the hook that easily. What he’s asking of me is huge. Maybe things would be different if I were just a normal girl from the Mississippi countryside or the Cape Cod beachfront, or if people didn’t take one look at me and assume they knew my whole life story. If I could just be me, Cat Crawford, without any expectations or preconceived notions, then maybe I’d be bonding with Jenna over napkin samples and color swatches right now. But that’s not reality. So I shrug, affecting the confident, blasé image I’ve perfected for school and the media, and move back to my own seat.

I immediately reach in front of me for my backpack. Just holding it makes me feel better—more in control of my crazy life. I peruse the contents: my makeup kit and toiletry bag; my wallet, camera, iPod, and funkadelic purple iPhone; my art supplies and color-coded binder filled with tour packages and historical information; and finally, my reading material, including the copy of The Hunchback of Notre Dame I’m reading for English. I brought it to work on whenever I needed a Jenna break.

By the time this trip is over, I’ll be a freaking Victor Hugo expert.

I pull out the book and zip my bag before leaning down to slide it back under the seat. As I sit up, I spot a familiar woman’s face out of the corner of my eye and freeze. My hands slick with sweat. My heart pounds, and the roar of the jet engine beneath me intensifies.

It’s just a picture, Cat, I tell myself. But it doesn’t help.

Splashed across my seatmate’s tabloid is a beautiful, smiling face and yet another jilted lover with the headline, Caterina Angeli Does It Again.

“Another one bites the dust.”

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. The owner of the tabloid takes a break from her engrossed reading to sneer at me, but then a hint of recognition dawns on her face. She quickly turns to compare the picture of my mother on her cover to the downgraded, non-airbrushed, soon-to-be-sixteen-year-old version next to her.

I want to sink into my seat and look away, pretend I have no clue why she’s staring, but I can’t. So I force myself to meet her gaze head-on with a confident smile. Casually, I turn back to my book, open it to the dog-eared page, and pretend to read. I feel the woman’s eyes on me—watching, waiting for me to do something scandalous—and fight the urge to fluff my coffee-colored hair or gnaw off a nail.

Soon enough she’ll stop looking at me, expecting to see my mother. She’ll grow bored, go back to her gossipmonger ways, and forget all about me.

They always do.

Content

The Fallen Prince
Keepers of Life - 2
by
Shea Berkley

Seeing

Awake

Part One

Disappearing

Scorched Black

Breath of Fire

Accident of Fate

Good Intentions Go Bad

Right Place, Wrong Time

Fired Up

Trust Is a Fragile Thing

Unwanted

Deep Breath

Holding Secrets

Pounding Hearts

Part Two

Edge of the Unknown

Whispers of Fear

Leaping Ahead

With Friends Like These

Waiting For Trouble

Not Alone

Against a Dark Sky

Winging It

An Unlikely Friendship

Following

Never Let Go

Seeing Is Believing

The Walking Wounded

Game On

Heartless

The Living Dead

Live or Let Die

The Undoing

Dream a Little Dream

Acknowledgments

Don’t miss My Super Sweet Sixteenth Century by Rachel Harris

ChapterOne