The room was well-lit and the walls would have been bare except for the blood splashed on them, with some of the marks going as high as three feet over Rouge’s head.  Light shone out of the many brightly glowing balls of light hovering near the ceiling, reflecting grimly on the white plaster of the walls.  Turning in slow circles, Rouge’s eyes widened and she stared around.  She and Julius were the only people in the room, although it was clear that others had been here recently, judging from the torn – oh.  Clothes were piled in one corner and, with a twist of her heart, the girl recognized the jacket on the top of the pile as being Casey’s own.  Poking out from under other torn and bloodied clothes was the shiny tip of a plate boot.  Blood seeped out from under the pile, staining the bare, cracked tiles of the floor.  On the wall near the pile of discarded clothes were a few hooks; something horrible and red dripped from them.  The plip plip of the blood falling steadily onto the ground wormed its way into Rouge’s mind and she stared at the hooks, at once unable to imagine what they were for and unable to vanish the possible images from her imagination.

 

She turned to Julius.  The man looked ashen and his hands were clutching each other, as if looking for something steady to hold onto.  As Rouge turned, she realized what Julius was looking at – a window.  There was a large window in one wall, and while the space on the other side was dimly lit, it was possible to vaguely see through.  As she looked, the hovering balls of light clustered near the window, effectively blocking any view from their side.  In that brief instant, though, she saw four figures peering in at her and Julius.

 

Rouge shouted and ran to the window and starting banging on it, squinting to see what was on the other side.  The lights made it very difficult, though, and all she could really see was her own dim reflection.  A short, red-haired woman shouting and knocking on the thick glass; she looked insane in her sweatshirt and jeans, her blue eyes frantic, her mouth wide as she yelled at the people she thought she had saw.

 

“Who are you?  What do you want with us – give the others back, you bastards!  Dammit, answer me, tell me why we’re here!”  She punched the glass as hard as she could, kicking at the plaster wall below the window.

 

She saw Julius come up behind her in the reflection, and his strong hands grabbed her by her upper arms and pulled her away from the window.  “You’ll hurt yourself, “ he explained.

 

Scowling over at the window, Rouge shrugged.  “Better me than them.”  Even though, she shook her hand gently; the pain from punching the glass was just now affecting her.  Massaging her fingers and knuckles, she looked up at Julius.  “What should we do?”

 

The man looked more awake and aware now and, as he gestured to the corner across from the pile of clothes, she saw him slightly slide his wand out of a sleeve holster.  “There’s a door.”

 

Frowning, Rouge spun again.  “Was it always there?”  She looked suspiciously at the door; the woman hadn’t noticed it before, although she realized that most of her attention was understandably pulled away to the torture devices and horrible, bloody pile of clothes.  Even thinking about the cluster of garments made her want to cry; what had happened to the others here?  Where were they now – and why didn’t they need clothes there?  Rouge swallowed and tried to concentrate.  “I didn’t see it before.”

 

“It just appeared,” Julius said slowly, walking to the door.  “I think the wall was an illusion.  The door itself seems real.”

 

Reaching out to inspect the door with a mental flick of magic, Rouge nodded.  “You’re right.”

 

Julius took hold of the handle to the door, his other hand twitching oddly.  He was ready to pull his wand out, but Rouge could tell he didn’t want the organization to realize it.  She casually did the same, readying her wand for quick release from where she had stored it up her sweatshirt sleeve.

 

With one quick motion, Julius pulled the door open and stepped back, putting his back against the bloody wall with only a slight grimace.  There was no motion from outside the door.  Narrowing her eyes, Rouge walked carefully up to the open doorway.  Pausing just inside the torture chamber, she jumped up and grabbed one of the floating balls of light; it was warm to the touch, but it didn’t burn.  Just as I thought, she smiled with grim satisfaction.  Just a free-form Stantial Luce spell.  She concentrated and, reaching into the workings of the spell, twisted the physical form of the Luce ball to a fuzzy flashlight, complete with focus lens and handle.  Gripping the wispy plastic-like shaft she had given it, Rouge shone the light outside the room. 

 

“Well done,” Julius said softly.  Rouge glanced over him and returned his smile; he looked impressed by her quick manipulation of the spell.  In a brief instant, she found herself hoping that after this the two of them could have the freedom to sit and discuss magic; she’d love to learn from him, her father. 

 

Rouge’s smile widened, but then a soft click outside of the room pulled her attention back to the other side of the door.  The click repeated, and she took a cautious few steps so she stood fully outside of the awful, bloody room.  She felt rather than heard Julius follow her.  Rouge made a mental note to stay ahead of the man, if she could; the thought of standing behind him and seeing the horrible blood stains on his jacket and pants from where he backed up against the wall made her want to retch.  She knew it must be worse for him, but –

 

Her attention, again, was drawn away and she wondered briefly why her thoughts were being so easily derailed from the situation at hand – “What was that?” Rouge hissed, turning the flashlight to point to their right, toward where the figures they saw through the window should be, or at least once were.  There was a shuffle of movement and the Luce spell’s ray of light caught a few clawed feet in their spotlight.  Rouge gasped and brought the light slowly upwards.

 

Taking a step back, Rouge slowly illuminated two feathered legs, that had begun in the clawed feet.  They connected to a bare, humanoid torso at the waist, although a long prehensile tail was whipping softly behind them.  The rust colored feathers melded into the golden skin of the man – no, she realized, this person, whatever it was, was neither man or woman.  It had the curved torso of female human, but no breasts or, she realized, the light slowly going up, nipples or a belly button.  Lean, muscled arms were crossed loosely across the chest of this person, long fingernails tapping to an unheard beat, and shadowed in the unlit room, only briefly illuminated by Rouge’s shaky cone of light were huge wings of the same rust as the person’s legs.

 

Rouge paused when the light reached the neck of the person.  She swallowed.

 

Before she could move, a cruel, androgynous voice rang out.  “What, too scared to see my face, duck?”  The person ducked suddenly, shoving their face into Rouge’s light.  The creature had a long, thin nose and a pointed chin; its mouth was full, its purple eyes deep-set and narrowed.  Rouge still couldn’t tell if it was male or female.  “Hello, Rouge!  And, oh, I see the darling Julius Aetos Lagorio has joined you, as well.”  It grinned, sharp fangs glinting in the Luce spell’s light.  A sinister tap-tap-tap that Rouge realized was the creature tapping its claws on the ground.  Raising one hand, the person snapped its fingers, the long fingernails clacking unpleasantly, and then the whole room was lit up.

 

The person stood at the other end of the room.  To the right, Rouge saw the window she had just been banging on; through it, the same bloody room.  The winged, feathered person was the only other one in this room and they stood next to a few machines that Rouge thought wildly looked like computer consoles, although they looked simultaneously ridiculously old-fashioned and far advance any technology she had seen on Earth.  The person looked down, following Rouge’s gaze, and grinned.

 

“Checking out our instruments, are we?  Yes, this is how we control that room.  See, this dial here,” it said, touching one computer screen and dragging its fingernail in a small clockwise circle on it, “Controls the amount of heat in the room.  We can go from absolute zero to – ah, see, it’s now very hot.” 

 

Looking out the window into the room, Rouge cried out when she saw flames bursting through the room, charring the clothes and leaping up the walls.

 

“Yes, that’s a fun one.”  The person’s voice went suddenly, easily high-pitched, its tone mocking.  “Ooh, ahh, what should we do, oh, stand here, there’s no flames!  But, aah, now that everyone’s here, we’re all burning, burning – ahhh!”  The creature laughed wildly, tilting its head back and flipping its long black hair over its shoulder.  “Ah, that was fun.  That little dark-haired human just didn’t know what to do!  Don’t worry, though, duck.  We taught her pretty well that fire hurts.”  The creature chuckled again.  It strode closer to Rouge and Julius.

 

Quickly, Rouge looked over at Julius, hoping for some sense of solidity and strength from him.  His jaw was tight and he didn’t look away from the approaching creature, but despite the man’s unwavering look, Rouge suddenly felt very alone.  She hadn’t been brought up necessarily to put her trust in older people, as there hadn’t been many older looking persons in Fairy, but Rouge had found herself naturally wanting to hide behind Julius.  Now, though, she realized he knew no more than she – Narrowing her eyes, Rouge whipped her gaze back to the grinning creature.

 

“What are you doing to me?” she demanded.  “My thoughts, everything – you’re making me not be able to concentrate on what I need to!”

 

The creature smirked at her, reaching out with one lean, golden arm to pat Rouge gently on her head.  “Ah, fear.  So easy to manipulate humans when all your brain wants to do is fight or flight, fight or flight!  And so, so easy to convince the brain to fly, even when the body stands here.  Come on, duck, let’s get you introduced to the organization.”  Its hand slid down from the top of her head, to caress her cheek, to rest on her shoulder and to eventually take her gently by her hand, tugging her back into the room it had just been in.  “Just through here,” it crooned.

 

Pulled forward, Rouge narrowed her eyes and tried hard to concentrate and buck off any of this strange mental spell that it was putting on her.  She refused to be distracted by random tangents like it was implying she was apt to do because of the fear, or the spell, or both.  “Who are you?” she demanded, pulling her hand away and standing still.  She heard Julius move to stand behind her; in her peripheral vision, she saw his expression clear slightly and she wondered if he, too, was affected by the muddling spell and was feeling better now that he knew why his thoughts were wandering.

 

The creature turned, facing the two of them.  Its large purple eyes were wide and it looked between Julius and Rouge before laughing.  “Duck!  You know who I am!”  It grinned and, again, the high-pitched voice came out of its full-lipped mouth.  “You can call me Regalo!”

 

Rouge’s mouth dropped open, but she found she wasn’t as shocked as she could have been.  “You’re with them.  You work for the damn organization.”

 

“Of course I do!  I told you Leshnakar made me and that he was my master.  Now, come along, they’re waiting.”  It turned again, its long tail flipping gently and its large feathered wings tucked against its torso.

 

“I can’t… I don’t believe this.  You’ve been manipulating me even … What do you want from me?”  Rouge stared at its back.

 

Regalo sighed and looked over its shoulder, one sparkling purple eye visible through the strands of dark hair.  “What do you think?  Come along; they can answer that question much better than me.”

 

Rouge looked at Julius, her eyes wide.  “What should we do?”

 

Julius shook his head, clutching his wand, not bothering to hide it now.  “We can fight him, but eventually… eventually, you know they’ll take us.  We don’t even know what world we’re on.”  He put his free hand on Rouge’s shoulder, squeezing gently.  “But I’ll go with you.  Don’t – no.  You should worry, because this isn’t a great situation.  But I’ll be worrying right alongside you.”

 

Rouge found herself suddenly smiling up at him, her eyes wet.  Thank the gods for this man.  “Thanks, Dad,” she said effortlessly.  Her chest hurt.

 

“Ew, come on, can we go?”  Regalo made a retching sound, turning quickly, its claws scraping awfully against the cold ground as it did so.  “Save the tender moment until later, kiddos.  Especially since he won’t be coming with us after all.”

 

“What?” Rouge yelped, glaring over at Regalo.  The creature shrugged and made a complex, quick motion in the air, leaving a glowing orange sigil in the air before it faded.

 

Large, shadowy creatures poured out of the corners of the room.  They were roughly shaped like men, although they didn’t seem to have legs and instead just floated a few inches from the ground.  Six of them, each at least seven feet tall and four feet wide, crowded around Julius and Rouge and pulled the humans apart.  One wrapped log-thick arms around her torso, holding her in place even as she shouted and struggled to reach Julius again.  The other five seemed to absorb the man into them. 

 

He shouted, “Rouge!  No, stop this, let me be with her – Stop this!”  Julius was struggling, but his words were choked out of him and the last Rouge saw of him was a kicking, jean covered leg; with a sharp pop of air, all six creatures disappeared to whence they came, taking the man with them.

 

Rouge sagged to the floor, suddenly weak and unable to hold herself up without the strange black, wispy summoned creature supporting her.  “What… Why did you do that, Regalo?”

 

Regalo grinned, bending down to look her in the eye.  It hoisted her up with one hand, its long fingernails tracing horribly down the inside of her arm.  “I told you you shouldn’t trust him.  He won’t always be around.”

 

Pulling her behind, Regalo marched through the room.  It opened a thick wooden door and Rouge was blinded by the sudden light as the two of them went through.

 

She couldn’t see anything in the room, raising her arms to shield her eyes as the bright lights shone down on them.  Regalo still had her by the arm and she felt the wind push against her back as it unfurled its wings.

 

There was a dull roar of voices around them, although Rouge couldn’t make out any specific words.  They sounded like … the people here, she realized, were speaking in the language of Fairy.  Slowly, she lowered her arms to look around her.

(To be continued.  I'm going to take a few days off, but I will finish this, despite Nano being done.)

Some time later, Rouge stood up and, after wiping her eyes somewhat dry with the sleeve of her coat, looked around the room again.  She decided to open the door without the key first, as the letter had been next to the door with the key and that in itself made her wary about it.  Rouge turned to face the blank door and cautiously slid the door back; it moved into a slot in the wall.

 

Past the door was a closet.  Not that the room she was in was very large, but the new area was clearly a closet.  There was a bar parallel to her, on which there were a few coat-hangers.  Sitting squarely in the middle of the small area, there was a small bookshelf; one shelf held another envelope and, below that, another shelf had a sandwich in a plastic bag and a bottle of juice.  Rouge frowned, immediately suspicious.  She picked up the envelope.  Again, someone had written on it, “Rouge: read me.”

 

She didn’t want to.  Rouge didn’t want to play any of these games or do anything the organization wanted her to.  But, at the same time… Would it be so much better to just sit in this small cubicle, with absolutely no knowledge?  At the very least, she could learn what they wanted her to, and just be aware that she couldn’t trust any of it.  Biting her lip, Rouge opened the envelope and took out the paper.  It read:

 

                Rouge,

Eat the sandwich and drink the juice.  Hang up your coat, because we’re sure you’ve noticed it’s not quite as cold here as it was on Earth.

 

Rouge picked up the sandwich with her free hand and looked at it distastefully.  It was soggy and had some lunch meat crammed between two slices of white bread.  There was a thin slice of cheese, as well.  She looked back at the paper.

               

                Eat it, Rouge.  You need your strength.

 

She didn’t want to.  She said so, then felt angry at herself for talking to a sheet of paper.  As she watched, though, words appeared on it:

 

                What, you don’t think powering a portal that large has sapped any energy from you?

                Fine, go ahead and be weak.

                That’ll help your friends.

 

Rouge sneered, “You can’t manipulate me!”

 

                Yes, we can.

                Eat the sandwich.

 

The paper mocked her and the words appeared fast.

               

                Here, I’ll show you – it’s not poisoned or anything.

 

The sandwich twitched in her hand and Rouge’s eyes narrowed as she looked back at it.  A corner of the sandwich disappeared, leaving chunky bite marks behind.  Almost in the back of her mind, she heard someone chewing and then swallowing.

 

                Delicious.

               

The paper said.

 

Rouge glared at the sheet of paper again, and put the sandwich back on the shelf defiantly.  “I’m not hungry.”

 

                You’ll regret it later.  Take the juice with you, at least.  All that crying must have made your throat dry.

 

The words had a definite smarmy tone to them, and Rouge was past annoyed now.  She crumpled up the paper and threw it to the ground.  Resisting the urge to pick it up, smooth it out and see what they had to say – Rouge could already imagine the smug words flowing out on the sheet, telling her to be mature and look at her situation rationally, or some crap like that – Rouge instead shrugged out of her coat and hung it on one of the hangers, along with her scarf.  She shoved her gloves into the pockets of her coat.

 

Rouge turned back toward the other door.  The key sat in the lock; a thin piece of twine had been tied onto the end of it, and the twine hung down, swinging softly.

 

She didn’t want to open that door.  They clearly wanted her to.  But, at the same time, that first note had specifically said they’d come for her.  Was she supposed to wait?  Rouge scowled.  Right, like she’d just wait until they came and let her out, like the good dog they’d like her to be.  She brashly grabbed the knob and turned.  It didn’t move.  What, why didn’t it – oh.  Rouge blushed; in the back of her mind, again, she almost heard a low chuckle.  She looked up at the grate in the ceiling, almost expecting to see a pair of eyes watching her, but there was no movement and nothing there. 

 

Rouge turned the key to the door, then opened it.

 

She stepped through and then gasped, her eyes widening in confusion and shock.

 

She was in a small room, about the size of a storage closet in the bookstore on Earth.  There were two doors; the one she had just come through which. she saw as the turned in a quick circle, had slid closed.  The other door had a handle, with a key in the lock.  The key had a small piece of twine tied to it.  On the floor, leaning against this door, was a small white envelope.  It read, on the front, “Rouge: read me.”

 

Rouge’s eyes flooded with tears.  What was going on?

 

She sat down and eyed the envelope with undisguised suspicion.  Before she picked it up, the woman glanced a look up and saw, yes, a grate.  Roughly six by two inches wide, with nothing visible on the other side.  Rouge closed her eyes and covered her face with weak hands.  She had done this, she had done this.  The words echoed in her mind again and she felt frozen with fear and anger at herself.  There had been no pressing reason for her to come here, let alone for her to convince the others to jump through the portal.  She had told them to go and gods knew where they were now – were they also trapped in what she suspected was a series of never-ending, closet-sized rooms, or did that first note’s threatening hint mean something?  The organization “had” the others; what were they doing to them?  What had happened, what did Rouge do, what was she thinking –

 

Rouge cried out suddenly, her rambling train of thought immediately derailed as something bit her foot!  Lowering her hands, Rouge stared down at her foot.  Nothing was there, but she had felt something, something had actually bit her.  Running her hands over her foot, though, now there was no pain.  Odd.  Either way, that little shock had burst her out of her worries and she looked at the waiting envelope with clear, but worried eyes.

 

A few moments later, Rouge nodded to herself and picked up the envelope.  Sliding the paper out, Rouge sighed as she read:

               

                Rouge,

                You made the right choice.

                We have the others.

                We’ll come for you when you’re ready.

                So, wait for us.

                                                                                                Hugs and kisses,

                                                                                                “The organization”

 

Rouge closed her eyes and leaned against a bare wall.  She had done this, she had done this.  Furrowing her brow, but not opening her eyes, Rouge realized she wasn’t quite sure if those thoughts were her own or not.  Absently, she wondered  if it really mattered.  It was true, either way.  The organization, whatever or whoever they were, had the others.  Her thoughts wandered and took a path of their own, and eventually she fell asleep, into an uncomfortable and tortured mess of dreams and thoughts.

 

Rouge jerked awake to the sound of knocking.  No, it wasn’t just a simple knock, she realized, looking around with wide eyes at the now dark and cold room.  Someone was banging at the door – the sliding door, she realized.  Banging with a frightening frenzy, crashing into the door as if they wanted to break it down with sheer force.  The door, though, was barely shaking under this extreme force and when Rouge slowly stood to stand in front of it, she realized that while the door had been a sliding door, it now had a handle – with a key in it..  Whoever was banging it on the other side was also shaking the handle furiously.  Looking over her shoulder, she saw that, yes, the other door also still had a handle, with a key hanging down.  Both doors looked identical now, actually, both with a small key with a bit of twine tied in.

 

Cautiously, Rouge reached down and turned the handle to the banging door.  It turned easily and she stepped back to pull the door open.

 

Julius stared at Rouge, his eyes wide, his hair mussed.  He looked a little insane and she jumped back at the surprising sight.  The man was a wreck; his clothes were torn, his face bloody.  He cried out, “Rouge!  It worked, the tracking spell – I was sure they had caught me on the way in and shoved me into this –“  Julius stopped short, lowering his hands and his voice, and his blue eyes narrowed as he looked her over.  “But why are you dressed like that?”

 

Rouge blinked.  “Dressed like…,” she echoed and looked down at herself.  She yelped at the sight; suddenly, she was wearing a full military outfit, complete with knee-high leather boots, tailored green khaki pants and a matching, fitted shirt, a leather belt with pouches and a gun hanging off of it.  On her shirt, she could see a few patches, a few that she recognized vaguely as ones that showed rank, another few that looked like cloth medals.  One above her breast pocket had “Kin’ala’gerra” stitched into it.  “What…”  She held her arms out, turning them over, and staring in wonder at the green, starched cloth wrapped around them.  Her cuffs and shirt front were buttoned up with small black buttons, shining in the dim light.

 

Rouge looked up at Julius and realized his clothes, which she had before only recognized as being torn and bloody, were not what he was wearing before – he was now dressed as a prisoner, complete with an identification number – 516AF3 – stitched on the front of his striped shirt.  Loose-fitting striped pants hung loose around his waist and pooled around his bare feet.  “What’s going on?” Julius asked, pulling the words from her mouth.

 

“I have no idea.  I was just… I was sitting here, and I wasn’t wearing this, and now you’re…”

 

Julius looked past Rouge and he stepped out of the dim, concrete cell he had been trapped in.  Rouge frowned, knowing that somehow that dank cell had once been the clean closet she had sat in.  She closed the door behind him and gasped, realizing it was now a cell door, from the dark metal it was made out of to the small, barred window at eye-height that allowed the guard – her, she realized – to look in and keep an eye on the prisoner – Julius.

 

“You were sitting here?”  Julius gestured around.  Rouge turned away from the cell and gasped.  The dim closet she had been sitting in was gone.  Instead, they stood near the end of a sporadically lighted hallway; every four feet, there was a door identical to the one she had just opened for Julius.  No one else was visible, but it was clear they were in a prison.

 

“No, this was… I don’t know what’s going on.”

 

“We’ll find out.  Come on, let’s find them.”  Julius started to stride down the hallway, toward what Rouge assumed was the exit. 

 

She hurried after them, whipping her head back and forth as they walked.  She was more than a little suspicious that there seemed to be no one else there.  Rouge was sure the two of them couldn’t have actually escaped this place – someone must be watching them and someone must be aware of what’s going on.  For all she knew, Julius and her were going just where the organization wanted them to be.  That was impossible to know for sure, she realized, because it was clear – at least to her – that the organization had full control of the situation.

 

Julius stopped short near a bend in the corridor, and Rouge almost walked into him.  “Why’d you stop?” she asked.

 

Julius held up a hand, and Rouge could see he had closed his eyes.  He looked like he was concentrating.  At long last, he spoke, his tone steady.  “This isn’t real.  This is all an illusion.  It’s a Goddamn powerful illusion, but, nevertheless, that’s what it is.  Close your eyes and see what it is you actually sense here.”

 

Frowning, Rouge did so.  She tried to ignore the cold air in the concrete corridor, and the scratchy way the uniform rubbed her upper arms.  There were no sounds to block out, except for Julius’s and her breathing, but she reasoned that even if the rest of this was an illusion, the two of them were actually breathing.  There didn’t seem to be anything else to sense, though.  There was no hint that this place was just illusory – except that.  She rose her eyebrows in surprise, feeling a small mental snag in the way things worked.  It was, she realized, in the buttons.  The buttons had been black and small, except now… Rouge opened her eyes and looked at her wrist.  The buttons holding the cuff closed were burnished silver.  Rouge bit her lip and closed her eyes again. 

 

Mentally, she pointed a spike of purple magic at the rip in the illusion and tugged at it, her fingers twitching.  That little inconsistency was all she needed and suddenly the illusion died.  She heard Julius gasp, but Rouge continued to concentrate.  Gone was the stiff military costume, gone was the stifling, endless hallway.  Julius’s prisoner outfit was abruptly replaced with what he wore before.  The doors were gone, the concrete vanished.

 

Before Rouge opened her eyes, she knew what would be there instead, but seeing it for real still made her cry out.

“He’s trying to get through the top, right?”  Paul confirmed.  He had left the other three to watch for any sign of Julius; he was still looking warily at the golems.  The legless one was waiting by the unconscious wolf form, but the blond seemed very aware of the possible danger they presented.  “Who is he?”

 

“He’s … His name is Julius.  Julius Lagorio.  And he says he’s my father.”  Rouge rolled her neck, looking at Paul.  “I think I believe him.”

 

Paul grinned, although he didn’t look away from the golems.  “I’ve love to find my parents.  Thought about that over the past few weeks.  Thought since I was here anyway, it couldn’t hurt.  Then I realized they’d be something like eighty, if they’re even still alive.  Might still look into it, though, after we deal with this.”  He nodded back toward the portal.

 

Rouge looked curiously at the man, struck suddenly by the amount of confidence he exuded.  She wasn’t sure where the portal would lead them, or how this all would end, but Paul didn’t even seem to question the fact that they’d all be okay -- or, at least, he’d be okay enough to find his family later.  That same confidence had led him here, Rouge realized, and he allowed it to carry him always.  It was almost admirable, how willing he was to do what he thought was needed.  She nodded.  “That’d be nice.”

 

Squealing, Casey moved away from another reaching tendril.  When she spoke, Rouge was relieved to notice that Casey’s voice sounded back to normal, other than being slightly high-pitched.  “So are we going through that thing?”

 

In a moment of hesitation, the voice of Regalo rang through Rouge’s mind again.  Don’t look before you leap.  She nodded firmly.  “I am, at least.  That’s where I’m meant to go.”

 

“I’m going, too!” Paul shouted, grinning.

 

Quickly, Sean added, “I am, too.  I won’t let you go in there alone, Rouge.”  He reached out, placing a cold hand on her shoulder.  He gripped her through her thick coat, and smiled shakily at her.  “I want to help you.”

 

Rouge laughed nervously, a little unnerved by the intense look.  “Help me with what?  We don’t even know what this is about—“

 

“I know it’s about you.  I know that like I’ve never known anything before, Rouge.  We were all brought here for a reason.  You said our names are on that thing – we’re meant to be here, and to go through it.”  Sean narrowed his eyes, as if realizing something.  “Our names… Is your father’s name on there?”

 

Rouge gasped.  “Oh!  Good point—“  She knelt down, looking curiously at the runes.  After a moment, she sighed and said, “No, it’s just our names.  Although Paul’s seems to be squished in.  Think they forgot you,” she joked.

 

“Well, I don’t think the golems have.  Look, that one’s waking up.”  Paul’s voice was steady.

 

Casey bit her lip, looking over at the creatures.  “We should go,” she said.

 

Rouge looked up at the barely visible curve of the barrier.  “But…”

 

“He’ll catch up,” Sean said, looking with worry at the now snarling creatures.  “You said Paul came through a portal that wasn’t meant for him.  I’m sure that guy can do that, too.  We should go.”

 

Rouge nodded, her decision cemented as the formerly unconscious golem looked like it was preparing to charge them.  “Alright, we go now!  Paul, you first, then Casey, Sean, then me.  Just jump through!”  She took a deep breath.  “It’ll feel a bit weird, and I don’t know how long it’ll last, but stay in one place once you arrive … wherever, and stay calm.”

 

Paul grinned.  “If there’s anyone waiting for us, I’ll dispatch them easily enough!”  He yelled something unintelligible and, winking at Rouge, threw himself through the portal. 

 

The portal shivered madly as the man entered it, and it shrunk down to about two-thirds of its previous size.  As soon as Paul entered the portal, he disappeared, and his yell abruptly ceased.  Casey squealed in shock at the response from the portal and drew back.

 

“Now you, Casey!”  Rouge tried pushing Casey toward the portal, but the other girl was resistant.

“I can’t!  What if –“

 

“You have to!  I’ll be right behind you,” Sean urged his sister, hugging her quickly.  “Paul will be waiting for you!  Go!”

 

Casey looked pale, but she nodded and, crossing her arms over her chest, she jumped into the portal.  It sucked her in and the purple tendrils still edging the window lashed out wildly as the portal let out a coughing noise.

 

Sean looked at it with wide eyes.  “Was that supposed to happen?”

 

Rouge shrugged, sagging down on the ground.  “I don’t know, but … Gods, this is..”  She coughed herself, covering her mouth.

 

“Rouge!  Are you okay?”  Sean looked down at her with worried brown eyes and she quickly nodded, careful not to let him see that she had just coughed up blood.

 

“Yeah, but whoever made this portal – they’re pulling my magic out to power it, and it’s really draining now that people are going through,” she explained, wiping her forehead and pushing herself up, so she stood straight.  “But, come on!  You have to go through!”  Rouge pointed at the portal and glanced back at the golems.  They had stopped charging, but they paced around ten feet away and looked angry.

 

“Rouge…” Sean began.

“No!  Go in now!”

 

Sean swallowed and moved back a few feet, to give himself a running start.  Before he started, though, Sean looked back down at Casey and said again, “Rouge.  I’m glad you crashed into our house.”  And he bent down and kissed her soundly on the lips.

 

Before Casey could think, he had thrown himself through the portal.

 

She breathed, “What…”  Blinking dumbly at the portal, which had now shrunk down to almost a quarter of its original size – a window merely three feet square.  Why had he done that?  She frowned and wiped her mouth, then looked down in wonder at her mitten.  It still had a few smears of blood, from her coughing just a moment ago, and now this… She sighed.  Today was turning very weird. 

 

Rouge backed up a few feet to give herself the running start Sean had also found necessary.  Since the portal was even smaller, now, she’d have to aim, too, as she threw herself toward it.  Just as she was about to run, though, she heard a shout from up above.  Julius!

 

The man was floating feet down and coming closer at an almost alarming rate.  He slowed down quickly, though, once he was around ten feet from the ground.  “Rouge!  What’s happening?” he asked, leaving no time for preamble.

 

Rouge shrugged and pointed at the portal.  “I don’t know, but I need to go through!”

 

“What?  Why would you go through a portal you know nothing about?” Julius demanded, looking at the young woman with narrowed eyes.

 

“Because …”  She realized that every potential reason she had sounded ridiculously dumb.  Because my name’s on it.  Because I’m powering it and I don’t know why.  Because a little fuzzy creature told me to not look before I leap.  She shrugged.  “Because my friends already have.”

 

Julius sighed, his shoulders slumping.  Rouge realized that the deep blue magic she had seen coating him earlier had faded to a gentle spritz of color.  He suddenly looked old and tired.  She frowned, but he said, “Fine.  Yes, you should go through.  First, though, let me put some sort of tracking spell on you.  I’ll try to set up my own portal and come to you soon.”

 

Biting her lip, Rouge nodded.  “Alright, but … you’re not safe here.”  She pointed to the side, gesturing at the golems without looking.

 

Following her gesture, Julius looked confused.  “Why?  Are those tin cans dangerous?”

 

Rouge frowned and looked as well.  “What?  There were – there were two wolf golems there a moment ago!  That’s why we decided we definitely had to go through!  They were going to attack us!”  She stared, wide-eyed at the empty street.

 

Julius frowned, glancing up and down the street.  “I don’t see any marks of golems – no prints or anything, I mean.  Although I do sense some magic…”  He closed his eyes and murmured, “Do you feel that?”

 

Following his lead, Rouge closed her eyes.  “Yeah, it’s – Oh, gods.  It’s a damn illusion spell.”  Rouge groaned, realizing that they had been tricked – manipulated.  There had probably been absolutely nothing threatening them, but the flimsy illusion spell and their imagination.  “Damnit!” she cursed again, opening her eyes.

 

“Don’t worry about it.  In the future, though… Golems are difficult beasts to make here, on Earth, and I would’ve been very surprised if two had been – no offense meant – wasted on four young people.”  Julius shrugged.  “Now, though, you’re right.  Decisions have been made, and you need to follow your friends.  Hold on a second, then you can go.”  He placed both of his gloved hands on her shoulders, bent his head down, and closed his eyes.

 

Rouge looked curiously at him as he did so, taking the opportunity to drink in the image of her father – even if he wasn’t sure, she was more than content to believe him to be her father.  From her vantage point, she could see the brush strokes of gray near his temples and working their way through his thick head of hair.  His nose was pointed, his cheeks thinly lined with friendly wrinkles.  She smiled briefly, feeling suddenly grateful for having met him.

 

Julius looked up again and nodded, squeezing her shoulders once before he let go.  “There.  The signal might weaken somewhat, depending on where this takes you, but I should be able to find you.  I’ll work on joining you four as soon as I’m able.”

 

“Thanks, Julius,” Rouge said, wondering at the odd feeling bursting through her chest.  She had a sudden desire to hug him and just revel in the feeling of strong, fatherly arms around her.  Shaking her head slightly, feeling odd, she continued, “You’re right.  I need to get going.”

 

“I’ll see you there.”  Julius stepped back and looked curiously at the portal.  “Be safe.”

 

Rouge nodded and threw herself into the portal.

 

The world changed and it continued.  For a brief moment, she saw Julius behind her, looking concernedly into the portal, but then that small window closed terminally and Rouge was surrounded by a suffocating nothing.  She was moving, she could feel that, but the complete lack of landmarks around her made it so she had no idea in what direction she was going or how quickly she was getting there.  Her eyes were flooded with burning blackness and she gasped in pain, then immediately regretted it as an overpowering, cloying thickness filled her mouth and throat.  Rouge couldn’t cough, though – she couldn’t move at all, in fact.  Her arms ached and her lips burned.  She didn’t remember where she was or who she was; all she could think was that she hated this place and she wanted out.  Nothing had ever felt like this before, but she had never tried something like this before. 

 

She thought – or else a voice from somewhere outside her said, she was never sure – that this was her own fault and she had condemned both herself and her friends to an eternity in a nameless hell.  She had done it, she had done this.

 

The words repeated for an endless time – she had done this, she had done this, she had done this –

 

And then they ended.

 

Rouge gasped, clawing at her throat, and trying to throw up the thick mucus-like substance before she realized it was gone, and she could see, and breath, and … where was she?  There was a ringing in her ears and a pounding in her head.  Where am I?

 

Looking around herself, once her eyes adjusted and she calmed down enough to really look, Rouge saw she was in a small room.  Incredibly small, it was the size of the storage closet at Kiddrich’s bookstore.  There were two doors.  One looked as if it slid open, the other had a handle.  The handle had a key in a lock.  Propped up against this door, on the ground, was a white envelope.  On the front, someone had written in a blocky hand, “Rouge: read me.”

 

Before Rouge picked up the envelope, she looked around the room more closely.  On the ceiling, way out of her reach, was a small metal grate, not more than six inches wide and two inches long.  There was no air puffing out, or suction the other way.  She swallowed, looking up at the grate.  Finally, Rouge bent down and picked up the envelope.

 

It wasn’t sealed.  She easily opened it and slid a sheet of folded paper out of it.  Unfolding it, she read:

               

                Rouge,

                You made the right choice.

                We have the others.

                We’ll come for you when you’re ready.

                                                                                                Hugs and kisses,

                                                                                                “The organization”

 

Rouge swallowed and slumped onto the floor.  She had done this.

“We should leave, I think,” Rouge said slowly, looking back at the bloodied windows.

 

Casey groaned again and let herself be propelled back toward the main street.  Rouge continued, “I don’t know what happened here, but we’ll get somewhere we can call, or report it.  And we’ll get you some water to drink, and--”

 

She stopped short, blinking in surprise at the two figures who turned the corner.  Sean and Paul stood in front of her.  Paul grinned widely in his wet – and probably rusting -- plate mail and flannel, Sean standing sullenly behind him, his brown hair plastered to his skull and rain dripping down his pointed nose.  The blond man towered over Sean and barely even seemed to notice his presence.

 

“Hi, Rouge!  We found you!” Paul said, clanking toward her.  His blue eyes were focused just on Rouge.  She supposed it might be romantic, how he always had eyes just for her, but she just found it annoying.

 

“What’s wrong with Casey?” Sean stepped forward, around Paul, and put a comforting hand on his sister’s shoulder.  Casey was standing more upright now, but she still looked miserable.

 

So Casey didn’t have to speak, Rouge responded quickly, “We just… There’s some bad stuff going down, and she doesn’t feel good.  We’re going to find somewhere to sit down, then we need to call the cops.”

 

Sean narrowed his eyes, looking curiously at Rouge.  “What?  What’s happened?”  He looked past the girls, peering down the alley.  A gust of wind swirled past them, rattling a few of the cans that were still propped against the wall, but he didn’t seem to notice anything amiss.  “What happened?” he repeated.

 

 Rouge shook her head.  “I’m not sure.  But there’s a lot of blood, and there’s people dead down there.  We need to get Casey somewhere she can sit,” she said again.

 

Paul gasped, striking a valiant pose.  Rouge wasn’t sure where he had hidden his sword before – they had continually impressed upon him that he couldn’t carry it around on the street – but the blond pulled it out and brandished it bravely.  “Where?  Who did this?  I’ll revenge thee, my fair mage maiden!”

 

“Paul, shut up.  I don’t know what happened.  I already said that.”

 

The man interrupted, pointing down the alley, behind Rouge, with his sword.  “Ah-hah, methinks the culprits return, so that I may vanquish them!”

 

Rouge furrowed her brow.  “What?”  Sean, too, was staring behind the redhead, his mouth wide.  He looked a bit pale.

 

Turning around quickly, Rouge narrowed her eyes in surprise at the sight that waited for her.  Down the street, past the devastated consignment store, a portal was beginning to open.  As she watched, the fuzzy squarish outline grew and became more focused.  It held a only vague resemblance to the portal she and Paul had both come through on their way to Earth.  Keeping one hand on Casey’s shoulder, as the other girl leaned gratefully into her friend, Rouge managed to get her wand out and she pointed it shakily at the portal.

 

The portal showed nothing on the other side except a deep blue-back vortex.  Wind was rushing out of it and when Rouge tried to take a step in its direction, she found herself pushed back almost automatically by the strong gusts of wind.  She opened her mouth to shout something, but in that instant, a blinding flash of light surrounded the four of them.  Rouge screamed, the light burning her skin right through her layers of clothes.  She dimly heard the others all cry out as well, and Casey dropped to the ground again.  It seared her mind and raged through her thoughts.  Rouge managed to keep standing, although she heard another thump as one of the others fell as well. 

 

Rouge couldn’t open her eyes, as even with them closed all she saw as a blinding, all-encompassing orange as the light shone through her eyelids.  She managed to shout, “Who are you?”

 

There was no answer, but the light suddenly died and, a few moments later, when she was able to open her eyes without too much pain, Rouge spun around, looking for someone who was doing this magic.  She absently noticed Casey kneeling on the ground and Paul next to her, holding his head.  Sean was staggering, but he was still upright.  Turning around, her back to the still growing portal, Rouge realized there was now a mile-high barrier between them and the main street.  It was white and glowing, veins of blue coursing up and down; she knew these veins were giving the barrier its strength and that if any of them could fit in the translucent white in between they could get free, but the largest area she could see was only two feet square.  Looking up, the barrier never seemed to end and, in fact, almost looked as if it curved over them.  She turned back around and saw that, yes, it was something like a half-globe, trapping them effectively in this small alley-way.

 

The portal was growing.  It was easily five feet wide now and almost twice as tall.  The edges burned bright purple, with flickering tendrils of arcane magic twisting out as if looking for something to hold onto and burn to ashes.  Inside the portal, sudden and terrifying shapes came into view and just as quickly went out of focus and beyond the window of the portal.  Long claws, dripping fangs, dozens of boil-covered tentacles, a flash of a wing, the harsh glare of buggy eyes.  The wind was still billowing out of it; it smelt of death and old meat.  Rouge narrowed her eyes and tried to take another step forward. 

 

Sean came close behind her and yelled into her ear, “What is this?”  He gestured wildly all around them.

 

Shrugging, Rouge shouted back, hoping her voice would carry enough.  “I don’t know, but this isn’t good!”

 

“Yeah, I guessed that!”  He squeezed her arm.  “What should we do?”

 

Rouge was flooded with gratefulness for him and his steadiness.  She could feel him shake behind her, but he was still standing by her and willing to do whatever he could.  She suddenly couldn’t care less if the organization had put her in the care of Casey and Sean for some reason.  Rouge knew they were good people and they would help her.  Covering his hand with hers, she yelled, “I don’t know!  I’m going to try to get closer!”

 

Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Sean nod, then kneel by his sister.  He seemed to be shouting something at her.  Presumably he told her to get up and follow them, since she and Paul both struggled to their feet and stood, their eyes narrowed against the whipping wind, and looked at the portal. 

 

Paul hefted his large sword up and glared menacingly in front of him.  “Let’s do this!” he yelled and started to lumber toward the portal.

 

Running after him, Rouge shouted, “Wait!  We don’t know where it goes, or who’s powering it!  It could kill us!”

 

Turning back halfway to her, Paul grinned, his long blond hair whipping wildly around his head.  He pointed to the side of the alley.  “So could they!”

 

Her eyes widening, Rouge spun to face the side-alley Paul was pointing at.  The tiny area was crowded with two dumpsters, but something else had appeared there as well, near that edge of the barrier.  She screamed when she saw the creatures waiting there.  They looked like a mash of wolves and gremlins, and when they stepped into the purplish, burning light from the portal, Rouge realized they were neither: they were golems, their fur and scales being constructed from stone and clay.  Golems were one of the simplest of constructs, but they could be impossibly strong and ruthless, if that’s how they were programmed to be.  They were slow, though, even though they were built like a lithe wolf.  Plodding into the alley proper, they kicked up the leftover slush and growled menacingly, their rock teeth looking dangerously pointed.

 

“Stay back!” Rouge shouted, waving her wand threateningly.  They barely even noticed her and instead turned toward the twins, Casey and Sean, who were still struggling to catch up to the other two.  “No!” Rouge yelled and quickly ran through the incantation to call forth a few large fire blasts, aiming them for the closest golem.  The balls of fire caught the creature just as it was jumping toward Casey and knocked it out of air.  It crashed heavily to the ground, its front legs shattering with the impact.  The golem growled, rolling its head, but could only weakly and awkwardly push itself forward using its back legs.

 

The second golem howled throatily when it saw its brother fall and rushed at Casey and Sean with renewed strength.  Rouge tried to catch it with another fire blast, but she missed as it slid on a scuff of ice.  Luckily, the ice caused the creature to miss Sean as it snapped at his leg, but as soon as the golem regained control, it was headed back for the humans.

 

“Aarrrgh!” Paul yelled, charging the creature, his sword drawn.

“No, Paul!” Rouge shouted.  “It’s too strong!  It’ll shatter –“

 

A loud crash interrupted her.  Paul intercepted the golem, bringing his blade down masterly on the creature’s neck, meaning to decapitate it.  Just as Rouge warned, though, the rock and clay that made up the gremlin-wolf golem was too strong and the sword bounced off.  Luckily, the blade didn’t break, but now Paul was dangerously close to those powerful jaws, and the golem turned the full weight of its attention on the blond.

 

Casey threw her hat at the creature, shouting.  Rouge blinked at the gesture, but it was surprisingly effective – the movement distracted the canine golem and instead of looking to snap Paul’s leg off, it tried to catch the hat in midair. 

 

The distraction gave Rouge just enough time to hold her wand steady and shout, “Nira belaroth!”  A cone of ice poured out of her wand and hit the golem squarely in the chest, sending it backwards to hit the far wall roughly.  Unfortunately, the impact wasn’t enough to shatter the creature, although it did seem to knock it out.

 

The other golem, pushing itself awkwardly forward on its back legs, was still attempting to attack the humans, snapping its jaws.  Sean growled down at it once it got close, and brought his foot down hard on its jaw, snapping off the end of its nose.  The golem yapped and fell down, its legs buckling, even as Sean hopped back on his good foot, yelping in pain and surprise.

 

“What, you thought your foot was stronger than Paul’s sword?” Rouge chided him and beckoned them all closer to the portal.  They stood a good five feet from the large interdimensional portal.  Strangely enough, the closer they got, the less the wind effected them, and Rouge was able to speak at a normal volume.

 

“This is a portal,” she explained, even as she and the others cowered from it.  “I don’t know who opened it or where it goes, but I think it’s definitely meant for us!”  Rouge looked down at the ground and only then noticed that around the edge of the rectangular portal there were glowing, gold markings seemingly etched into the ground.  She nodded and pointed at a cluster of them.  “Yeah!  This is really strange, but, see, our names are all there!  Someone’s made this portal with the unique understanding that we’d be using it!”

 

Paul furrowed his brow, looking down and nodding.  “How do they know our real names?”

 

Before Rouge could answer – although she didn’t know what she would say, anyway – Casey burst in.  Her cheeks were flushed, and she still looked a little ill, but Rouge realized that all this insane excitement might be distracting her from the horrible sight from a few minutes ago.  She just hoped the other girl wouldn’t look over at the consignment store to their right and see the dead bodies again.  Casey said, “What do you mean?  I can’t read that at all!”  Sean nodded his agreement.

 

“Oh, it’s in Elven,” Rouge explained.  “Don’t worry about it!  I think, though – I think we should go through!”

 

Sean shook his head rapidly, one of his arms securely around his sister’s shoulder, the other holding her upper arm tightly.  “I’m not going in there!  We don’t even know where it goes!  I don’t like any of this!”

 

“I’ll go, Rouge!” Paul said, grinning.  “I’ll go wherever you lead, milady.”

 

“Don’t be an idiot,” Rouge answered without thinking.  She turned back to the portal and gently reached out to one of the straying purple tendrils of magic around the edge of the portal.  “This magic is so powerful!” she gasped as the tendril wrapped itself warmly around her wrist and tried to pull her toward the actual portal.  She tugged her arm away.  “To be able to power a portal this large, for four people, at the same time as this barrier spell!  And all visible – here, that’s incredibly tough,” she said.  “This is incredible…”

 

“Stop sounding like you’d like to sit here and study it!  Those things are still here and we need to get out of here – and not through that thing,” Sean said, his eyes wide.  Casey nodded and Rouge realized her friend was shaking.

 

Rouge frowned and turned away from the portal.  She was about to say something when she realized there was a figure on the other side of the barrier, near the main street.  She pointed at the figure, her eyes wide.  “Look!”

 

Someone was trying to get through.  The figure was encased in a dark blue glow and they seemed to be prying their way through the barrier.  Rouge started to jog toward them, but the further she got from the portal, the more the wind surrounded her and kept her from easily moving.  She stopped halfway between the portal and the barrier and she shouted to the figure.

 

“Who are you?”  Rouge yelled.

“It’s me!” a familiar, masculine voice answered.  “Julius!  What’s going on?”

 

Rouge gasped and tried to get closer to the barrier, but the gusts of wind made it virtually impossible.  “I don’t know!  This all just happened!”

 

“I think you’re powering it!” Julius called, his voice strangely muffled yet magnified because of the barrier.  “It has your signature on it!”

 

Rouge’s eyes widened and she tried to concentrate so she could look at the spells behind the barrier and the portal, instead of looking at the products themselves.  She cried out at the first mental probe, because the spell work resisted her and mentally burned her as soon as she tried, but she had gotten enough of a connection to realize Julius was right.  The magic was hers – she had learned to recognize her own magic through her many years of training.  She knew the “scent” of her magic as easily as she knew herself in the mirror. 

 

“You’re right!  But I’m not doing this!” Rouge called, cupping her hands around her mouth.

 

Julius’s blue glow dimmed and he yelled back, “I know!  But you’re doing it really well, either way!  I can’t get through!”  She could vaguely see him pointing up.  “I’m going to try coming up from the top – these spells are usually weaker up there!”  As Rouge watched, the man stepped back.  For a few seconds, the blue swirling around him became more concentrated, and then he burst into the air.  The physical magic around him was literally propelling him into the air. 

 

Behind her, she heard Sean yell in surprise, and Paul laugh in appreciation.  There was no sound from Casey, and Rouge was again worried that her friend was okay.  Rouge squinted, looking up.  She couldn’t see Julius anymore, and she jogged back to the others, realizing the only way she’d know if Julius’s plan worked was if he flew down to be with them.

Rouge nodded slowly and started walking to Casey.  “Alright.  I just feel like I’ve been here before,” she shrugged.

 

“Well, didn’t Sean show you around when you first came here?  Maybe you guys came down this way.”

 

Rouge shrugged again.  She felt distinctly uncomfortable.  She rubbed the back of her head through her wool hat; she was starting to get a headache, she realized.  “I don’t think so.  Not a big deal, though.  Let’s check out that store.”

 

Casey nodded and turned back around.  Her wool skirt flipped out and her boots kicked up a spray of slush that froze in mid-air.  Rouge groaned.  Her headache was now accompanied by a quiet buzz.

 

Regalo’s squeaky voice rang out into the frozen, cold air.  “Long time no see, duck!”

 

Closing her eyes as the creature’s high-pitched voice pierced her suddenly tender senses, Rouge nodded.  “Yeah, where’ve you been?”

 

“Nowhere, really,” Regalo said, its tone flippant.  “There’s been nothing to tell you, so I guess I haven’t really been existing.  Now, though, I’ve just one –“

 

“No,” interrupted Rouge, opening her eyes and looking curiously at the hovering Regalo.  “I want to know more about this organization.  And I want to know why my magic has felt so sapped recently.  And I want to know whether or not Julius is really my father.  And I want to know… Why you haven’t been around!”

 

“I just told you that, silly!” Regalo giggled, flipping around in mid-air so its grin was upside-down.  “And you’ve just got to trust me.  I haven’t steered you wrong yet, have I?  All I gotta tell you now, though, is –“

 

“Why do I recognize this place?”  Rouge turned around slowly, looking at the small street again.  “Everything seems so familiar.  The stores, that little tin can thing.  That garbage can.”  She pointed at an overturned garbage can; as she did so, a rat scurried out of it and away from her.  A moment later, as Rouge watched, a few mice followed suit and even a squirrel who hadn’t seen the point of hibernating.  “What…,” she breathed, watching the rodent exodus.  Jumping, she looked down as another rat and a few more mice scampered past, one clambering right over her boot. 

 

Regalo sighed behind her, clearly frustrated.  “Rouge, I’m trying to tell you something important!”

 

The redhead frowned, watching the last vermin disappear around the corner.  She heard some distracted shouts from people out on the main sidewalk, who had clearly just seen the rodents as well.  “What?” she asked, not turning back to Regalo.

 

“Don’t look before you leap,” the creature said quietly, although it seemed to have moved, as its’ breath puffed into Rouge’s ear. 

 

She gasped and turned around, looking with narrowed eyes directly into Regalo’s unwavering purple gaze.  “What does that mean?”

 

Regalo smiled, its fangs looking suddenly dangerous, its paws flexing.  “Just that.  Go by instinct and don’t think so much.  And, Rouge, that’s advice not only for the future – especially the immediate future,” Regalo winked, “But also in regards to your trials over the past month.  What do you believe in your heart?  Who do you want to trust?  Me, or that man?  Make your decision in a blink of an eye and don’t falter.”  Bowing, Regalo disappeared.

 

Casey’s skirt fell and she continued walking toward the consignment store.  “I was here last week, but I didn’t have any money, but they had some nice scarves.  I figure we can find something nice, and maybe it can be a joint gift from us – Aaah!!”  The girl’s sudden scream threw Rouge out of any leftover reverie from Regalo’s little appearance, or the strange mass departure of the rodents.

 

“What’s wrong?” Rouge started running to catch up with Casey.

 

Casey’s eyes were wide, her normally tan skin looking pale and wan.  She pointed at the store and Rouge, biting her lip, looked.

 

The short, stone walkway to the consignment store was red.  It was wet.  It was, Rouge realized, her throat dry, covered with blood.  It stank like freshly killed meat and looked lumpy.  The blood was smeared all over the glass door, covering most of it and obscuring their view into the store.  Rouge swallowed and Casey choked, covering her mouth and bending over abruptly.  Rouge rubbed her friend’s back gently, as she took in more of the scene.

 

Inside the store, from the little she could see, no one was alive.  Two clerks, at the register, were flopped over on the counter like large dolls.  She could see the bent feet of a customer who had been near the jackets, and an older man was leaning bonelessly against the shoe racks near the back of the store.  If not for the smears of blood surrounding the scene, and pooled around them, it looked almost as if they just fell asleep.  She could see the face of one of the clerks; his dark eyes were wide open in horror, his mouth twisted as if he didn’t know whether to scream or cry.  Blood seemed to be coming out of his mouth, his nose, his ears.  Rouge choked, and Casey threw up on the sparse snow.

 

Turning her friend around forcibly, Rouge tried to get Casey calm.  Focusing on taking care of the other woman allowed her to not deal with it; she wasn’t sure this was the healthiest method, but right now she didn’t care.  The wounds and the careless blood reminded her too much of the apparition of Whitehoof.  The redhead found herself almost desperately wishing that this turned out to just be the insane work of some human maniac, but she doubted it.

 

Casey retched a few more times and, in between coughing, still bent over, she said, “It wasn’t like that when we entered –“  A coughing fit.  “When we entered the alley.”

 

Rouge narrowed her eyes, understanding immediately the implications of that, even if Casey wasn’t sure.  That meant it had to be magic.  And, her traitorous thoughts followed, it had to have either happened very quickly, or during a timeless moment where someone with the right magic had frozen time.

Rouge slowly sat down, looking at Julius in silence.

 

He looked away, as if considering his next words, then finally said, “The details aren’t important.  You were stolen, your mother saw it, and then she decided she had to leave in order to train enough so she could get you back.  Of course, she didn’t tell me this before she actually left, so all I knew was that within a week I lost both you and your mother.  Only nine or ten years later, when she saw fit to reconnect with me on a very superficial level did I learn why she left and what she hoped to accomplish through it.”  Julius’s tone became bitter and he was clearly struggling to maintain a calm expression.  “I don’t know where she is now, but she’d probably be overjoyed to learn you’re back here.”

 

“I’d like to meet my mother,” Rouge mused.  “I didn’t think much about finding my family when I came back here, I guess, since family isn’t that important back in Fairy.  But—“  She stopped for a second, frowning.  “Well, I didn’t plan on doing much of anything, but recently I’ve been being pushed toward finding out why I’m allegedly ‘special,’ and I guess my parents being powerful mages could be why.”

 

“Could be.  There’s always of course been folk tales about how the birth or parentage of a very powerful wizard being linked to that power.  Whole sixth son of a sixth son thing, for instance.  Or being conceived during a major religious ritual – the sex magic infuses itself into the baby.  Like King Arthur,” Julius said, nodding.

 

“King who?”

 

“Never mind.  The important part is -- yeah, I guess maybe you’re especially powerful because of your mother and I.  But, like I said, I don’t even know for sure if I’m your father.  And I don’t know about this organization you mentioned, but it seems like something you might want to be wary about.”  He stood up again and, zipping up his jacket with an air of finality, said, “I think that might be all we have time for today, though.  We’ve talked about a lot, and I think you should sit down by yourself and think about what decisions you want to make.  Who you want to trust, first of all, and where you’ll go from there.  I’ll be in touch.”

 

Before Rouge could stop him, Julius smiled at her again, gave her a little salute, and walked out the door.  Rouge slumped back in her seat, her mind spinning.  It seemed like a week ago that she started her break, and even like the strange incident with Whitehoof’s body happened two months past.  She rubbed her eyes and mechanically wrapped up the remnants of her lunch and stored them in the mini-fridge.

 

Stepping out of the break room, she looked around for Kiddrich to apologize for her long break.  She found him, after a long search, still up at the till.

 

“Hey, I’m back.  Sorry I –“

 

Mr. Kiddrich interrupted her, his thick eyebrows furrowing. “What?  You just went, what, five minutes ago?  You sure you’re done?”

 

Rouge colored and thought back to Julius’s odd, cryptic message about how he’d make it work.  “Er… Yeah, I guess that five minutes was really refreshing.”

 

“Well, it’s up to you.  Take another ten minutes later on, if you want.  How long you thinking you’ll stay?” he asked, dropping the till back into the register.

 

Rouge bit her lip and thought quickly.  “Maybe another hour and a half, sir.”  She had a lot to think about now, after all, and the prospect of staying until closing with all these thoughts jangling around her head was a little overwhelming.

 

“Sounds great.  Just let me know when you’re heading out – I’m not going to let you go without that latté!”  Kiddrich winked and shooed her away.

 

Rouge set to work again and decided not to think about all these issues until she was at home and could maybe talk it out with Casey or Sean – as long as Paul wasn’t around, she amended.  For the next hour, though, she drove the thoughts from her mind and focused just on alphabetizing and organizing.  The brainless task was just what she needed after that talk.

 

Rouge wasn’t able to talk it out with either of her roommates, though, that night.  Or, in fact, any night for the next few weeks.  Life got immeasurably busy all of a sudden, and Rouge only had spare moments in the day to wonder about the clash between Regalo and Julius.  Casey’s due date for her thesis began to seriously loom, and the stress she was under affected everyone in the apartment.  Sean went through a rapid series of girls, each more annoying and loud than the last; the latest, a brunette named Molly, was especially vocal in bed.  This caused Casey to first shout into her brother’s door that she needed to concentrate, then she tried to burst in on them and stuff a sock into Molly’s mouth.  Casey had taken to walking around with earplugs all the time, so she was prone to screaming and almost jumping out of her skin whenever anyone inadvertently scared her by walking into the room while her back was turned.

 

Paul was the biggest problem, at least according to Rouge.  He hadn’t stopped bugging Rouge to figure out a way to get back to Fairy, and was the major cause of her lack of time to deliberate.  Every moment she had to sit down and start to think about what she needed to do, he saw as a time that they could bond and perhaps brainstorm ways back to Fairy.  He also still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of Earth fashion.  He insisted his plate metal boots were the most comfortable footwear he’d found, so he clanged along the sidewalk, his ill-fitting jeans folded up over them.  Despite the cold, Paul also didn’t see the point of jackets and sweatshirts, so tended to walk around either shirtless or wearing just a thin undershirt; combined with his constant need to flex and make sure his muscles were still in working order, he was not only a distraction and a cause for many accidents when he was out walking, but Rouge was consistently embarrassed by the flesh, as he hadn’t stopped randomly hugging her.

 

Rouge felt especially bad for Casey regarding Paul, as Sean and her at least were out at work for the majority of the week.  Casey, on the other hand, stayed at home most days, trying to write and re-write and proofread and re-read, with Paul banging and clanking around.  To Rouge’s surprise, though, Casey didn’t seem to mind the big baboon.  He seemed to be less of a bother than Sean and his train of girls, at least, and maybe Casey had gotten so used to attempting to ignore them that ignoring Paul was a piece of cake.

 

So, it came, that Halloween and Thanksgiving rushed past in a flurry of stress, turkey and candy, and the true winter season had hit Seattle by the time Rouge managed to talk with Casey about her issues.  Rouge had convinced Casey to leave the thesis alone for a few hours and the two of them had bundled up against the cold, and were walking the streets of the University District.  Rouge hadn’t quite gotten a full understanding of the holiday season on Earth, but any excuse to get away from Paul was one she’d use.

 

 “Why didn’t you tell me about this crazy little Regalo guy before?” Casey asked, burrowing her face into her scarf as they paused on a street corner, waiting for the light to change.

 

Rouge shrugged, stuffing her mittened hands deep into the patched pockets of her secondhand jacket.  “I think he told me not to, actually.  He, she, it.  Whatever.  I haven’t seen him, or Julius, though, for a few weeks now.  In fact, nothing’s happened.  Those two days were just so crazy, and then … nothing.”

 

“What else happened?”  Casey pointed at the light as it changed, allowing them to cross the street.  Rouge hurried after the other woman.

 

“Oh, um… Nothing really important.  Just some more crazy stuff,” Rouge said awkwardly, not wanting to scare her friend with the details of the dead Whitehoof’s arrival.  “Every day that goes by, though, I get worried that maybe it was all a dream, or just a big joke on me, or something.  Seems weird that there’s been nothing.  I mean, it’s been like a month!”

 

Casey shrugged.  “Maybe this organization has lost interest.  I mean, you are sort of boring, except for the whole ‘I’m from Fairy!’ thing,” she said, grinning over at Rouge.

 

Gasping in mock horror, Rouge lightly punched Casey in the shoulder.  “I’m plenty exciting, Miss All-I-do-is-work-on-my-thesis!”

 

Casey laughed and then pointed suddenly down the road.  “Oh, I want to go down this little road up here.  There’s a consignment store I want to look at, to see if I can find a new scarf for Sean for Christmas.”

 

Rouge nodded and followed Casey, humming a carol under her breath.  It had snowed two days ago, but had barely stuck, and now there was only a gray mush on the sides of the road to show that it had happened at all.  Smiling into the fleece lining of her coat, Rouge thought about how much she liked Earth.  Things seemed more real here, she had decided.  She hadn’t noticed anything off when she had lived in Fairy, of course, since she had lived there her whole life, but now, in contrast, Earth seemed more natural and realistic.  Things happened here that no one could explain.  Or, if they could, it was because they had studied long and hard to figure out why exactly only pine trees grew in certain climates and why the sky really was blue.  Back on Fairy, things happened for two very simple reasons: One, the Duchess wanted it that way or, two, because of magic.  While the first reason only directly applied to Ala’gerra, Rouge had always been reasonably sure that there were similar reasons in every duchy and kingdom of Fairy.

 

For instance, take snow.  Rouge kicked a stray lump of dirty snow as she walked along.  In Fairy, first of all, snow was never dirty.  It was either fresh, new and fluffy, or it wasn’t there at all.  There might be five feet of snow to the north of the Kingdom but then it would just stop, as if someone had drawn a line in the grass – and, certainly, that was what happened.  There would be snow for a week and then it would disappear in the night, to leave behind sunny, beautifully flowered meadows that weren’t at all damp or unpleasant.  The seasons here on Earth were a new thing to Rouge, but she loved them.  Imagine living through three or four short months of reasonably pleasant weather, knowing roughly when it would end – but, also, knowing when it would return!  The surprise and whimsy of Fairy weather had been too random for Rouge’s taste.  The crisp regularity of weather here on Earth was comforting and familiar.

 

Turning into the street Casey had pointed out, though, Rouge realized that not all familiar things were good.  She stopped short, looking down the alley way.  The three small stores on the right, the first a restaurant with damp tables set out, the second a consignment store with a flicking “We’re Open!” sign, and the third a natural soap and lotion store.  She narrowed her eyes and pushed her hat up, so she could see more clearly.  Against the brick wall to the left, across from the restaurant, a stack of aluminum cans were arranged.  The whole arrangement was painted green and she realized belatedly it was supposed to be a tree.  Odd splotches on it were painted, and there looked to be a gold garland sketched on, as well.  She choked, looking around.

 

Casey turned around, looking at Rouge oddly.  “You okay?”

 

“Where.. Where are we?” Rouge asked.

Frowning, Casey pointed behind her.  “We’re going to that consignment store.  I just told you that!” Casey laughed.

Wordlessly, Julius gestured at Rouge.

 

The girl frowned at the older man and was about to say something when the air conditioning went off, the microwave’s clock stopped blinking, and Julius stopped breathing.

 

Rouge sighed and sat back in her seat.  She called out, “Regalo, if you don’t show up right now, I’m going to scream –“

 

“Pish posh, little duck!  I’m right here!” Regalo popped into existence a foot away from her.  It grinned at her cheerfully and eyed her sandwich.  “You still eating that?”

 

She frowned and handed the creature the second half.  “I didn’t know you ate.”

 

“I don’t have to, but I love turkey,” Regalo moaned, stuffing its face.  Rouge watched, an amused smile on her face.  Regalo was an odd critter.  Once it had satisfied itself and messily cleaned its face like a fastidious cat, Regalo turned around and gave the frozen Julius a hard look.

 

“What has he told you?” Regalo asked, its tone cold.

 

Rouge could only see Regalo’s back, but its long tail was twitching irritably.  “He’s explained how magic works here.  I thought there was no magic here?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“You shouldn’t listen to him.  He’s bad news, duck,” Regalo said, turning so it stood in between the two humans and could keep an eye on both.  Even though Julius looked more like a wax mannequin than a living person, Regalo seemed twitchy and suspicious of the man.  “I wish I had known he was the thing you were supposed to be looking out for.  I never would’ve told you to come here today.”

 

“Why?  He seems perfectly okay.  In fact, he’s been really helpful and, plus, I think he’s –“

 

“Don’t finish that thought!” Regalo hissed, spinning to face Rouge, pointing one clawed, furry finger at her.  “Don’t!  It’s not true!”

 

“What?  You don’t even know what I was going to say!”

 

“But I know it’s… No, I do know what you were going to say.”  Still floating, Regalo leaned back and crossed its arms over its chest.  “You were going to say he was your father,” it said, its tone suddenly dripping sarcasm.  “Did he tell you that?”

 

Rouge shook her head.  “No, but … Look at us!  And he kept stopping when he got to a point in his story, and then he, look at him!”  She pointed at Julius, whose hand was still stuck in the vague gesture he had been making when Regalo froze them.

 

“You’re not the only human with red hair and blue eyes.  I know you were the only redhead in Fairy, but not so here!  And, yeah, he has magic, I guess,” Regalo rolled its eyes, clearly not thinking that was very impressive.  “But that just means he knows how to manipulate you!  People aren’t always nice here, Rouge.  You can’t trust everyone.  Especially not him.”  Regalo pointed a thumb over its shoulder at the still body of Julius.  “You need to get away from this guy as soon as you can.”

 

Rouge looked at Regalo for a long moment.  “But I like him,” she said, mentally adding, and I don’t like you.

 

“You can’t just--” Regalo broke off and groaned, covering its face with its paws.  “Rouge, you gotta trust me in this.  He’s… I don’t want to scare you, but, he’s…”  Regalo looked up at Rouge, floating down to sit on the table directly.  The light in the room dimmed and Rouge glanced around, narrowing her eyes.

 

“He’s what?”

 

Regalo looked at her, its purple eyes wet with worry.

 

“He’s what?” she asked again, staring at him.

 

Sighing, Regalo pointed at its throat and said, “I can’t say it.  I thought I could, but … it won’t let me.”

 

“Can I guess?”

 

Regalo nodded and grinned.  “Yeah, that could work!  Because this is the real reason you shouldn’t talk to him, but if I can’t say it, but I really think you need to know.”  It added, in a lower tone, “Oh, I hope I don’t get in trouble for this…”

 

“He’s not my father,” she said, frowning and looking past Regalo to look at the still form of Julius.

 

Regalo shook its head.  “Right.”

 

“But he has magic, and he didn’t seem to be lying when he told me about the magic.  Who would have magic, or who would be interested in my magic, enough to track me down –“  She gasped.  “Regalo.  Is he part of the, whatever the thing you were telling me about?”

 

Regalo covered its mouth with its paws.

 

Rouge’s eyes widened.  “He’s… Really?”

 

“I can’t say that,” Regalo squeaked.  “But do you see why I want you to leave now?”

 

“Yeah, I guess so.  Gods, and I’m all alone with him right now.  Should I leave before you start time up again?”  Rouge bit her lip, scooting her chair back and looking at the door, behind Julius.

 

“No!” Regalo squeaked, jumping up and staying a few feet above the table.  “No, then he’ll be even more suspicious and he’ll follow you again!  You need to somehow get him uninterested in you so he’ll leave you alone for good!  And that way maybe he can get the whole organization to go away.”

 

Rouge nodded slowly.  “Alright.  Start time again, whenever you’re ready.”

 

Regalo nodded, its tail jerking nervously.  “Good luck, duck!”

 

Then the creature disappeared and Julius breathed again.

 

He narrowed his eyes and looked at Rouge.  “What just happened?”

 

“What!  Nothing!” Rouge yelped, clutching the sides of her aluminum chair.

 

“Rosso, what’ve I said about playing dumb?  I know there was a freeze just now,” he said, looking around the room, as if looking for some evidence.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered.  How could Julius be part of the organization that killed Whitehoof and wanted to use her?  He was so nice, and he was so helpful.  Rouge had been so thrilled to meet him, and he seemed bursting full of interesting information.

 

Julius sighed and looked at Rouge, his gaze piercing.  “Come on.  Don’t lie.  I felt the power spike, my own breathing hitched, and you were not only in a different position right after the spike, but your sandwich is gone.”

 

Rouge colored and looked down at the napkin she had been using as a plate.  It was covered with crumbs and, yes, the second half of her sandwich was gone, courtesy of Regalo.  “Err,” she said helpfully.

 

“Come clean, Rosso,” Julius urged.

 

Rouge bit her lip, not looking at the man.  She started to answer, and then whistling of the air conditioner cut out again.

 

Regalo appeared in front of Julius’s face, its own expression contorted and angry.  “Rouge!  What did we just talk about!  Don’t tell him anything!”

 

Rouge gasped and opened her mouth to explain herself to the creature when, again, it disappeared and a sharp crack of air rang through the room before time started up again.

 

Julius scowled and looked at Rouge.  “It happened again!  And don’t tell me any differently.  What’s going on here?”

 

Rouge furrowed her brow and cradled her head in her hands.  “I’m sorry!  I don’t know who to listen to!”

 

“You’re of age, woman!  Make up your own mind!”  Julius stood up and started to zip up his coat again.  “I’ve no business with someone who doesn’t even have –“

 

Rouge slammed her hand on the table, stopping his flow of words and his movement.  She glared up at the man.  She started to reply in the same angry tone he was using, but stopped short when she caught sight of his expression, and thought back to the scowl that had just been on his face.  Such familiar expressions, such familiar tones and ways of speaking.  Instead, she simply asked, “Are you my father?”

 

Julius’s jaw dropped and he slid bonelessly back down into his seat.  “Why,” he breathed, then coughed and started again.  “Why do you ask that?”  He ran one hand through his bristly, graying red hair, and looked at Rouge.

 

“Because I think you are.  But I was told you weren’t.  But… I’d believe you, if you told me you were.”

 

Julius took a deep, shaky breath, and then another.  “Rosso, I can’t tell… I can’t tell you one way or another, truthfully.”  He shrugged, his cheeks flushed, whether from residual anger or shock at this sudden turn, Rouge didn’t know.  “I think I am,” he confided.  “But I’ve no proof.”

 

“Was my mother that promiscuous, then?” Rouge asked, grabbing onto the lightest, most flippant response she could think of, even as her brain tumbled over itself as it tried to make sense of this.

 

Crossing his arms and resting them on the table, Julius chuckled.  “No, not that.  It’s a confusing situation.  I think, yes, I think I’m your father, Rosso.  Now why did someone else tell you that I wasn’t?”

 

Rouge frowned, aware that they were moving into tricky territory again.  “Someone,” she said, trying to avoid details, “told me that you would say that and that you were trying to manipulate me.”

 

“To what ends?”

 

“Someone suggested you worked for an organization that’s attempting to use me,” Rouge answered.

 

Regalo popped into existence, freezing time automatically.  Rouge winced at the loud crack and then covered her ears as Regalo started to shout.  “What are you doing?  Weren’t you listening to me at all!  Of course he’s going to say, now, that he’s not and that he’s here to help you and everything!  What are you thinking, Rouge?”  Regalo swooped down to hover just in front of Rouge, its wings beating rapidly, throwing bursts of air into Rouge’s face.  “You can’t trust this man!”

 

“Why should I trust you?” she demanded, standing and glaring down at the creature.

 

Regalo started, its wings pausing for a moment, then it flew up a few feet to once again look Rouge in the eye.  “What?  You should trust me because, really, I’m you.  I’m just—“

 

“No, you’re not!  You’re this weird addition, this strange gift of Leshnakar’s!  I don’t trust him, and I never did, so why should I trust something of his!  And, another thing!”  Rouge poked Regalo in the furry chest.  “How do you know my name?  I only ever told Leshnakar that I was Adellemina.  Why do you keep calling me Rouge?”

 

Regalo quailed, backing away from Rouge’s poking finger.  It scrunched up its nose, its purple eyes growing wet, threatening to spill tears any moment.  “Rouge!  I know that because I’m a part of you!  Maybe I wasn’t always a part of you, but what does that matter?  People change!  They grow and they lose bits of themselves as they – Rouge, I’m on your side!  How could I not be?  Your side is the only one I’ve ever known!”

 

Rouge subsided, looking closely at Regalo, who still looked on the verge of tears.  Slowly, Rouge sat back down in her chair and crossed her legs.  “I’m not sure I believe you,” she said.

 

Regalo whimpered, rubbings its eyes with its paws. 

 

“But I’ll keep your advice in mind.  That doesn’t mean I’m going to do everything you say, though.”

 

“But, Rouge!  Sometimes you need to trust me blindly, sometimes I’ll be able to know that you should duck or run or jump and you need to just do it, I mean, that’s what I’m here for!  You need to trust me!”  Regalo wailed, its tail whipping so frantically it almost hit Julius’s frozen nose.

 

Rouge shook her head.  “I need to think, is what I need to do.  Start time up again, Regalo.”

 

Sighing mournfully, Regalo snapped its fingers and Julius began to breathe again.

 

“What is this, Rosso?  Three times now, you’ve broken the time continuum in the past fifteen minutes!  This is way too much.  Who are you talking to?  What’s going on here?”  Julius glared at the girl who might be his daughter, pointing a finger that Rouge knew could light her on fire with just a thought.  

 

Rouge sighed.  “My name’s Rouge, first of all.  And it’s a long story, why all this time-freezing is happening.  But it is.  And I’ve decided that I need to make my own decisions – you’re right.  So tell me why I should believe you, or trust you, or whatever it is you want from me, and then I’ll decide.  First, though.  Tell me what you meant by ‘after’.”

 

Julius narrowed his eyes, looking over at Rouge.  “I thought your break was only fifteen minutes.”

 

She gasped, spinning around to look at the clock on the microwave.  Her break had sped by and she was due back on the floor two minutes ago.

 

“Relax,” Julius said, holding up a hand to stop her from packing up her lunch.  “I’m not going to stop time, not like your friend, but I’ll make it work.  We can sit here for at least another few minutes.  I’ll tell you what you want.”  He stretched and put his hands behind his head.  “When I said ‘after’, I meant after you were stolen and your mom left me.  That’s when I knew I had to learn to control my magic, because she and I had already known that you were bursting with power.  We had been so excited,” Julius said, his tone wistful.  “She had also never been formally trained, but she knew a bit more than me, and she was the one to point out your potential.  We were going to learn to use our powers together, as a family.

 

“But then the fairies came.”

He looked to be in his mid-fifties, although Rouge knew she was horrible at judging human age.  He had a shock of red hair, although it was just starting to gray at the temples.  The man pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, his dark blue eyes narrowing as he looked down at it.  Rouge ducked behind a nearby display of the newest Stephen King book, and tried to figure out what it was about the man that caused her to not be able to look away.  He walked further into the store, toward the nonfiction section. 

 

Clutching her green apron, Rouge followed after the man curiously.  He looked strangely familiar, and, she realized, he seemed to be looking for someone.  She frowned, thinking.  The man seemed different than the other humans she had seen on Earth.  More in control, more familiar.  Even Sean and Casey seemed curiously devoid of energy, to Rouge; it was as if they hadn’t reached their full potential as people.  This man, though, looked like he knew everything there was to know about being a human and he was –

 

Oh.

 

Rouge gasped, stopping several feet behind the man, staring at him with wide eyes.  He had magic.  He glowed with it.

 

Rouge had noticed, when she had first arrived on Earth, that magic didn’t show up here.  There was no physical expression of the magic here.  Sure, she could do magic, but back on Fairy, the magic itself actually showed up.  Pale fire would shoot out of a wand, sparkling twirls of light would wrap itself around an object, and the most powerful wizards always had a scattering of magic dust around their hands.

 

Rouge remembered her surprise when she made the toaster crawl across the counter and the little machine wasn’t immediately covered with a faint red fire.  The results were obvious, and she could still do magic, but the magic that Rouge manipulated and controlled wasn’t visible.  Rouge figured it was some strange difference in the dimensions between Fairy and Earth.  She didn’t know the science  behind the change, but she wondered if there was a longer visible spectrum in Fairy.  Here, though, magic just didn’t show up.

 

Until now.  When Rouge concentrated, when she tried, she saw that this man was literally coated with a sparkling blue substance that she knew was latent magic.  The man’s hands, she noticed, had an even higher concentration; one of his hands was clenched, and the blue magic was pulsing around his fist.  This man was powerful: more so than any other wizard Rouge had ever heard of.  Near the end of Rouge’s training, she had started to have a visible scattering of magic constantly clustering around her own hands and arms, and Trimble and Gaiberry had exclaimed over the power evident in her.  This, though.  His whole body…

 

He knew magic.  He was a human, here, on Earth, and he knew magic.  Rouge instinctively knew that the man from Earth.  He had no sense of Fairy about him, none of that familiar spicy extra-dimensional scent that she hadn’t realized was all over Fairy until she arrived here on Earth.  The man was purely human, but he looked to be one of the most powerful wizards that had ever lived.

 

Rouge stood in the middle of the aisle and stared at the man, not understanding how this could be.  As if he felt her gaze, the man turned and looked at Rouge.  His blue eyes pierced Rouge’s mind and she took a step back.

 

Quickly, the man walked to Rouge, crossing the ten feet in just a few seconds.

 

Rouge breathed, “You…”

 

The man narrowed his eyes, looking down at Rouge.  His intense look wasn’t unfriendly, she realized, but just very calculating and curious.  The man’s eyes were almost familiar, but she couldn’t figure where she had seen them before.  She took another step back, unnerved by his silence combined with his steady look.

 

She glanced away for a moment, looking to see if there was another employee nearby who could rescue her if the man turned out to be – she wasn’t sure what she thought.  Rouge looked back at the man and was surprised to see that now he looked nervous and, in fact, was smiling crookedly at her.

 

He spoke, his tone low, and his voice a little scratchy.  “I think we need to talk.”

 

Rouge tried again.  “You – how do you have all that?”  She gesture wildly at the man, trying to indicate the now quickly swirling magic.

 

The man looked down at himself, raising his hands and turning them over slowly.  “This?”  He flicked a finger, causing a burst of the blue to fly two feet above their heads, turn into a fiery hawk, and flew away into the ceiling.  “This is what I would’ve taught you if you hadn’t gone to Fairy.”

 

Rouge stared at the man.  “Who are you?”

 

The man smiled.  He didn’t say anything, but Rouge’s eyes widened.  His eyes, she thought.  They’re mine…

 

“My name is Julian.  Julian Aetos Lagorio.  Can we talk somewhere?”

 

Rouge nodded dumbly.  She started to point toward the back of the store, but she gestured with the hand still holding the apron.  “Oh!  Well, right, I was about to go on a break, so we can, if you want, the break room?”

 

Julian nodded.  “That’ll do.  Do you need to tell someone you’re going on break?” he prompted.

 

“Yeah, let me just tell Kiddrich.  I’ll meet you by the sci-fi stacks.” 

 

“Very well.”  Julian turned toward the back of the store, looking over the book shelves, presumably looking for the science fiction area.  He was tall enough to easily look over the store; Rouge barely came up to his shoulder.

 

Rouge looked after the man, her mind racing.  Could he –

 

She shook her head and went in search for Kiddrich, trying to focus on just that task for now.  She found her boss by the front register, as he counted out the till for the mid-afternoon check.  Waiting until he finished the dimes, Rouge pantomimed that she was going on her break. 

 

He nodded, smiling widely at her.  “See you in fifteen, then!  How much progress have you made, by the way?”

 

“Oh, I’ve cleared the first bay in the back.”

 

“Well done!  Remind me later to buy you a latté.  I really appreciate your help today,” Kiddrich said, fumbling with the quarters.

 

Rouge smiled at him, “Not a problem, sir.  I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

 

Kiddrich nodded and turned his gray head back toward the till.

 

Rouge folded up her apron, walking to the back.  Mr. Kiddrich had been overly nice to Rouge since she started working at the store about a month ago.  While Rouge’s hours hadn’t been increased that much, he was always happy to see her and, in times like this, was more than willing to let the girl take extra hours.  He had taken extra care to train Rouge in working the register, even though she was rarely up there, and making sure she was comfortable with the layout of the store, so she didn’t feel flustered if customers asked her questions about where to find what book.  Sometimes, Rouge still had to find another employee to answer a customer’s question, but the store was becoming more and more familiar.

 

Rouge paused a little ways from the science fiction area.  There he was, Julius Aetos Lagorio.  She wondered what the name meant, who he was, and what he wanted with her.  Also, smiling wryly, she wondered if he’d be able to explain all of that in fifteen minutes.

 

Stepping up to him, Rouge smiled hesitantly at him.  “Alright?  We can go back here.”  He nodded and followed her into the break room.

 

They stood awkwardly in the small room and for a moment Rouge panicked: what was she thinking, being alone with a strange man, in a room with no windows, he was by the only entrance, he was clearly powerful, what was she thinking?

 

Julius casually pulled a chair out from under the table and slid into it.  “I’m sure you have a lot of questions.  Can I ask a few first, though?”

 

“Er, of course.  Do you mind if I…?”  She gestured with her lunch sack, as she pulled it out of the mini-fridge.

 

Julius shook his head.  “Of course not.  So, what’s your name?”

 

Rouge paused, looking at him.  She hadn’t worried about telling Sean or Casey her name, since they had no magic or way to control her that she knew of, but this man’s power was unbelievable.

 

He frowned, looking at her.  “Or at least something to call you.”

 

Rouge narrowed her eyes and nodded.  “You can call me…” Her mind raced.  She didn’t want to use ‘Rouge’, definitely not, and even ‘Adellemina Kin’ala’gerra’ told Julius a lot about her, maybe more than she wanted to give him right away.  “How about Rosso?”

 

Julius laughed.  “Fitting.  Alright, that’ll do for now, Rosso.  Then, I’d like to know, how did you get here?  To Earth?”

 

Rouge frowned.  “What do you mean?” 

 

“Don’t play dumb.  I felt the rift a month ago, but it’s taken me this long to track you here.  Lucky for me, yesterday you used all the power, so I was able to triangulate right into here.  Then, when I saw you, I was sure it was you.  So.  How did you get here?”

 

Unwrapping her lunch, Rouge looked closely at the ham and cheese sandwich.  “I came through a portal.  I didn’t do the ritual myself.  I didn’t even think up the idea myself, actually.  Lesh – A centaur proposed it to me, and he did the ritual.”  She closed her eyes, thinking.  “It was like a combination of a summoning and a portal spell, and it seemed really specific to me.  Oh, and I was the one actually powering it.  He channeled through me, directing the energy, but it seemed like all of the power was mine.”

 

Julius nodded and sat back in his chair.  “That fits what I deduced pretty well.  Did the centaur come through with you?”

 

“No, but I just found out that another person came through.”

 

Julius narrowed his eyes, stiffening.  “What?”

 

“Someone else came through the portal.  He just arrived here, though.  I think it was because the circle was so attuned to me, so it didn’t know what to do with someone else.”  She took a bite of her sandwich and took her time chewing, looking curiously at Julius.

 

The man rubbed his eyes, leaning his elbows on the table.  He unzipped his dark brown jacket, his eyes still closed.  Julius was wearing a light cotton button-up shirt and jeans; he looked very casual, but capable of anything.  She hadn’t seen the movies, but Sean had a poster in his room – Rouge was suddenly struck by how much this man looked like Indiana Jones.

 

“Alright, so you came through a portal.  You didn’t work it yourself, but your magic powered it.  You weren’t in control.  And now you’re saying that someone else from Fairy came through?”

 

“Why are you so worried about that?” Rouge asked shrewdly.

 

“The worlds are separate for a reason,” he answered, looking up at her with those familiar eyes.  “Fairy and Earth have always been close, but they’ve also always been just far enough apart that it takes some real effort to get from one to another.  Especially since humans have started using metals more often, iron and steel in particular, the number of accidental excursions from one side to another have severely decreased.  No longer can someone stumble across a fairy circle under the light of the full moon, and find themselves in another world.  And, vice versa, fairies have to really concentrate and work to come here.”

 

“But, it never seemed like it was that hard back in Fairy.  The Duchess would send her courtiers and servants off to Earth on a whim, and they would never be gone that long,” Rouge protested.

 

Julius smirked.  “Never gone that long by Fairy standards, maybe.  And I’d be willing to bet that your Duchess slowed down time, or adjusted it somehow, so it didn’t seem like the explorers were gone for long.  Crossing the border takes a lot of preparation and energy.  Usually a dozen wizards exhaust themselves, opening a window strong enough to just let one tiny fairy through to Earth.”  He bent over the table, looking closely at Rouge.  “You, though, Rosso.  You powered one by your lonesome, and it was strong enough to not only transfer yourself, but also a stray.”  He added, “And, it was fucking loud on this side of things.”

 

Rouge blinked.  “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean every magic user in America felt that rip.  It was like you haphazardly cut a giant slash from the Rockies to New England, and then decided you only needed this little bit over here in the Puget Sound, so you sewed it up with another blink of an eye.”  He shook his head, looking at Rouge.  She realized his expression was almost one of awe.  “I always wondered how Fairy trained its wizards.  Seems like they train them to be really powerful but,” he frowned, “Also to throw their power away like it’s nothing.”

 

“Hey, that’s not true!  I wasn’t in control of my power there, otherwise I would’ve –“

 

“Exactly, Rosso.”  Julius’s tone became sharp and his eyes narrowed.  “I’m having a hard time understand why you would let someone else control your magic, no matter what the end goal was.  You hesitate giving me your proper name, but you’ll let someone tap into your very essence and manipulate it in a ritual you don’t even fully understand?  I’d be willing to bet money there were some unorthodox runes in that circle, ones you would’ve certainly balked at if you had understood the extent of what you were getting yourself into.”

 

Images of the dead Whitehoof flashed over Rouge’s inner eye.  Could she had caused that?

 

Julius sighed, and his voice became softer again.  “You’re young.  I’m glad you seemed to have learned a little about that, though, as you seem nice and suspicious of this old man.”  He smiled at her.  “Now, I think I can slack off interrogating you.  Do you have any questions for me?”

 

“Of course I do!”  She set the second half of her sandwich down, staring at him.  “Who are you?  You speak as if you’ve never been to Fairy, but you know all about it.  How did you get trained?  Where did all of your magic come from?”

 

Laughing, Julius raised his hands in surrender.  “Hold up, hold up!  What do you want me to answer first?”

 

Rouge chuckled, blushing.  “Training?  And your magic?”

 

“Well, the magic came naturally.  Showed up in my late teens, I guess.  Just started being able to do things and, when the light was just right, I could see the magic.  At the time, I figured it was an effect of the drugs,” he grinned, shrugging.  “Ignored it for a while, but magic doesn’t just go away, you know.  Eventually, I tried talking to a priest about it, but they didn’t know how to deal with it.  Took a long time before I found someone else here who knew what to do.  Not until I was near thirty did I actually get control of my magic.”  Julius smiled ruefully.  “That was long after…”  He stopped, looking strangely at Rouge.

 

“After what?” she asked, narrowing her eyes in confusion.

 

Julius shook his head, frowning.  “Never mind.  I’ll explain that later.  Now, though.  I found someone up in Ireland, finally.  I was trained in the way of, well, I guess you’d call it, Gaelic magic.  Celtic magic.  Roots way back, and from what I know, they’re tied in pretty closely with how things are done in Fairy.  That far north, in what’s now called Ireland, there were a lot of crossings.  One of their gods, I think, was actually an elf.  But, anyway.  I found someone, name of, hold on, I can get it.”  Much to Rouge’s amusement, Julius worked his mouth for a few seconds, then slowly pronounced, “MacEachthighearna.  Means ‘son of the horse lord,’ and dated back to the way back when.  “I worked with them for ten or so years, after--”

 

“After what?” Rouge asked again, furrowing her brow.

Rouge narrowed her eyes and looked at the creature.  Its ears drooped and it wouldn’t look Rouge in the eye.  “So, tell me now.  Show me now, Regalo.  I don’t know what’s going on, and I’d rather nothing was, but I need to know what it is.”

 

“But, I can’t!” Regalo cried out, looking at Rouge now.  She took a step back, shocked at the intensity in its gaze.  “I wish I could, but don’t you understand?  I don’t have free will!  I’m just a, you know, almost a figment of your imagination!  All I can do is show you what you should do.  I’m just … initiative.”  Regalo slumped.

 

The creature looked so absolute devastated, Rouge temporarily forgot about her own troubles and bent down to pat the creature’s furry head.  “Oh, I’m sorry, Regalo.  I know you want to help me.  I guess I didn’t think about that – your restrictions, and all.  I’m sorry to have brought it up.”

 

“It’s not your fault,” the creature said, its voice still sullen.  “I’d like to help, but all I can do is push you toward the right direction.  And I don’t even know if that’s the direction that’ll lead you to finding out what you want to know.”  Regalo shook its head sadly.  “I don’t know the end goal of this anymore than you do.  All I know is that you’re special and that I’m here to help you figure out how to use that.”

 

Rouge nodded and sat back down on the toilet seat, looking sadly at the creature.  “Okay.  So, what do I do?”

 

The creature wiped its eyes with the back of its paws, and sniffed.  After a long moment, Regalo looked up at Rouge again and grinned; it was back to its old self.  “Be aware tomorrow, at work.”

 

“But I don’t work tomorrow,” she protested.

 

“Well, go in and see if they need you.  Maybe in the afternoon.  Just … keep an eye out,” Regalo winked, its purple eyes flashing merrily.  Rouge couldn’t help but smile at the creature.  Its high-pitched voice was grating, sure, but the familiarity was also extraordinarily comfortable after that horrible experience in the living room.

 

“Alright, I’ll do that.  Now, though… Let’s clean up the other room, then I’ll go back to the kitchen, and you can start time again.”

 

Regalo giggled and threw itself into the air, doing a few flips.  “I already did that!  With a blink of an eye, a twirl of my tail, the magic is done before it went stale!”

 

Rouge laughed, following the creature out of the bathroom.  “What does that even mean?”

 

“Just that you have nothing to worry about, duck.  I cleaned up the living room and tomorrow you’ll take the next step toward figuring this whole thing out.”  It grinned widely at the redhead, beeping her nose, and then popping away. 

 

Rouge rushed to make it into the kitchen, and to the chair she had been sitting on, before time sped up again.  Just as she fell into the chair, her face flushed, noise exploded.  The tick of the clock sounded like a machine gun.  Paul’s angry breathing broke through any semblance of concentration Rouge might pretend she still had a hold of.  The scuffing of feet – Sean’s, banging against the counters, Casey’s as she bounced gently on the balls of her feet – was a constant dull roar.  Rouge closed her eyes and laid her head on the table, trying to adjust to the noise.  Even the cars, hobos and pedestrians outside sounded like they were screaming and crashing in her head.

 

“What’s all this then?” asked Casey in the sudden flurry of noise and movement.  She came around the corner, her voice unnaturally loud in Rouge’s ears.  “You okay, Rouge?  Woah, who’s this?”  Casey frowned, looking past the redhead to Paul.

 

Opening her eyes, Rouge looked up at Casey and sighed.  Sean burst in, “He’s some kid from Fairy!  He molested us when we were going to the poetry slam, and I don’t know what the hell he wants, but –“

 

Paul stood up in a rush, his chair falling on to the floor with a smash. “I don’t know who you are, sir, but I’ve known Rouge since we were kids, and I don’t trust you!  We’re going to go back to Fairy right now, so you can just butt out of our business!”  He grabbed Rouge’s arm and pulled her up, glaring at Sean.

 

Wrenching her arm out of Paul’s grasp, Rouge said sternly, “Calm down, children.  Pick up that chair, Paul, and stop being mean, Sean.”  She crossed her arms, rubbing her forearm where Paul had grabbed her.  “Casey, this is Paul. He’s from Fairy, and he followed me through the portal, but for some reason, only showed up here a few days ago.  He found us downtown.  We didn’t know what to do.  I’m sorry to bring another squatter into your house.”

 

Casey, leaning against the doorjamb, covered her eyes with her hand.  “Another one?  What, Fairy not interesting enough for you, either, Paul?”  She sighed, shaking her head to quiet Rouge’s protestations.  Walking forward, Casey stuck out her hand to Paul.  “I’m Casey.  I guess you’ve already met my dimwit brother, Sean.  You can stay here until we figure this out.  We’ve a sleeping bag somewhere.”  Over her shoulder, the woman frowned at Sean. “Go find it.”

 

Sean opened his mouth, looking like he wanted to say something disparaging in response, but at his sister’s stern look, simply nodded and slouched out of the kitchen.

“I’m so sorry, Casey,” Rouge started.

 

Casey sighed and turned to the stove, reaching for the tea kettle.  “Not like you planned this, Red.  So, he followed you through that portal?  I didn’t know that was possible.”

 

“Neither did I.  It seemed to be a pretty specialized spell, but I guess he just threw himself through.  That’s probably why it took him so long to appear here, though.  The spell didn’t quite know what to do with him, so it eventually just spat him out on this side of things.”  Rouge frowned at Paul.  “And, Paul, you can stop blathering about going back to Fairy.”

 

“What!”  He stood up again and then turned, tripping on his armored feet as he tried to catch the falling chair again.  The ensuing clatter distracted the three of them for a few minutes.  Finally, the chair was righted once Rouge pulled Paul away from the scene, and Casey tipped it right side up.  Rouge pointed sternly at the armor and, frowning, Paul sat in the corner of the room, on the floor, and started unbuckling his armor before he spoke again.

 

“Rouge, we need to go back to Fairy.  The Duchess must be worried sick.  You know she’s probably been searching and panicking.  How could you just leave?  Did you even leave a note?  You’re a witch – let’s figure out the circle needed, and we’ll go back.  It’ll be like this never happened,” he suggested, his deep voice going smooth and warm.

 

Standing a few feet from him, watching the complicated armor removal procedure, Rouge shook her head.  “I’m happy here, Paul.  I have a job, I have friends.  I never fit in back in Fairy, and I don’t want to go back.  I decided to come here for a reason, don’t you realize that?”

 

Reaching up quickly, Paul pulled Rouge down to fall gently into his lap.  He had already taken off his plated chest piece and boots, leaving him dressed in only the thick hose and a loose dark green tunic.  Wrapping his massive arms around her even as she struggled to get away, he murmured, “But you left me there.  Didn’t you think about that at all?”

Holding her wand in front of her, Rouge turned into the family room.  Just my luck, she frowned, looking into the dark room.  The streetlight outside of the apartment building tended to flicker, and the time freeze had occurred just when it was in a moment of darkness.  Rouge bit her lip and stepped in the room.

 

“Hello?”

 

Her voice should’ve echoed, at least slightly, to give the moment the proper ambiance.  Instead, the sound died instantaneously.  It was as if she had never spoken at all.  Rouge swallowed and decided no matter what was lurking in the room, it was better to see what she was up against; better the evil you know, after all.  Focusing her energy, she whispered a word in Fairy to produce a small light on the end of her wand –

 

The room remained dark – the only effect was that her head suddenly started pounding and her temples burned.  Rouge staggered in the dark, supporting herself against the purple sofa.  She groaned and, dropping her still-dark wand, clutched her head.  Gods, what was that?  Such a simple spell shouldn’t affect her in any way, let alone so negatively.  She opened her eyes and scrambled on the floor for a second for her wand, but didn’t try to light it again.  Standing up made her wince again, and Rouge wished she could just rest for a bit longer, but just when she seriously thought about it, she heard something.

 

A scrape against wood and the rustle of leaves.  The sound came from the corner, near the window, and Rouge spun in that direction, trying to pay no attention to the continued burning sensation in her mind.

“Who are you?  Show yourself!” she said loudly.  Once again, her words disappeared, as if they were sucked away.

 

A long silence followed and Rouge was about to speak again, when someone else spoke.  The voice was vaguely familiar, but it sounded too hoarse to be anyone Rouge recognized.  “You shouldn’t over-exert yourself.”  The voice sounded almost caring and tender.  “You’re no use if you keep this up.”

 

“No use to whom?  What are you talking about?”  Rouge lifted her wand again and clenched her jaw, readying herself to attack no matter the detrimental affect such a move may have.

 

Even as she clenched the thin stick, though, a gust of wind so strong slapped against her wrist, forcing her arm back to her side.

 

“No,” the voice ordered.  “Do not attack me.  For if you do that, I may be forced to respond in kind.  And if you are destroyed, those who I represent will be sorely unhappy with me.”  A dry chuckle which turned into a cough, quickly muffled.

 

“Explain yourself!”  Rouge tried to lift her arm again, but although there was no sound of wind, there was still a pressure against her arm.  She couldn’t move, she realized, other than to talk.  “Who do you represent?”

 

The voice chuckled again.  “I represent a force that recognizes the potential in you, my dear.  A group of people that have been watching you since you were born, and who have plans for you.  You wouldn’t want to disappoint these people, would you?  They’ve cared for you, they’ve made sure your life has been easy, and that you have never wanted for anything.  When you first meet them, I suggest you thank them for all the unnecessary kindnesses they have floated your way, in fact.  Do you think it was by chance that you landed here, in this home?  Many humans would not have welcomed a stranger into their midst as your lovely roommates have.  No, even this is just what they want for you.”

 

Rouge cried, “What are you talking about?  I make my own decisions and my own –“

 

The voice cut her off.  “No.  You have been brought up for a specific purpose and cause.  And your time is almost come.”

 

“What if I refuse?”

 

“Oh, you wouldn’t want to do that.”  The voice coughed again – and Rouge realized the cough was more of a gurgle, in fact.  She winced away from the corner, her mind racing. 

 

The creature stepped forward and, with a toss of his head, created the fairy light Rouge was unable to before.  The light hovered by his head, and Rouge gasped, her eyes widening in horror.

 

It was Whitehoof, but Rouge could tell from the first moment she saw him that it was not Whitehoof.  His pure white, fine coat was covered in cuts and dried blood.  His eyes were dug out; no longer did they shine blue and loving, but in their place were gaping, still-oozing holes.  The dead unicorn opened its mouth in a grin, showing nubs where strong teeth once glinted.  When he rose his head, Rouge saw that Whitehoof’s throat had been slashed; it was now crudely repaired with gaping, thick black yarn sewed across.  That explained the gurgle, at least.

 

Rouge choked out, “Who are you?”

 

Tossing his head, the fake-Whitehoof chuckled again, then coughed and spat a glistening chunk of blood onto the bare carpet at his feet.  Strands of bubbly blood came out of the hole in his neck, as well.  His mane was knotted with dried blood; chunks of it had been roughly torn out.

 

“What have you done to Whitehoof?” she asked, tears coming unbidden.

 

“I did nothing to the unicorn,” the creature said.  He looked at Rouge; at least, he swiveled his head so one eye-hole was facing Rouge.  Even the unicorn’s shining horn had been tarnished and was covered with blood and small bits of flesh.  Rouge felt like she was going to puke.  “I am grateful for his body, though.  He has no current use for it – in fact, he seemed quite unhappy with the changes those who I represent saw fit to gift him with.”  The creature pawed at the carpet, rubbing the gob of blood further into the fabric follicles.  “I know to take what I can get, though.  I know to accept the gifts given me.

 

“You should learn to not be so ungrateful as your dear friend, Whitehoof.”

 

Breaking free from the invisible restraints, Rouge forcibly lifted her wand arm up and pointed the stick at the creature.  “Tell me who you are.  Tell me who – or what you’re representing.”

 

The creature snarled.  Driblets of blood dripped out of his nostrils.  Rouge winced away.  “I’ll tell you nothing!  Just know this: you will do what they want, or more of your friends will suffer.”  He stepped closer to Rouge, until he was less than a foot away from her face.  “We have given these humans to you.  We can take them away.”

 

Rouge flinched, trying to keep away from the unicorn.  “No.  I’ll fight you,” she stammered.

 

“Yes, you can try that.  In fact,” the creature mused, “I encourage it.  Such a display of power would encourage those I represent.  It would let them know what they have invested in.  Yes.  Fight for your friends, for your loved ones – Oh, I misspoke.”  The dead unicorn’s tone took on a cloying sweetness.  “You cannot love, can you?”  In a disgusting contrast to the nuzzling Whitehoof used to do, the creature pressed its cold and blood-wet nose to Rouge’s cheek.  Rouge started to shake; she closed her eyes and tried not to cry.  Speaking softly, its dank breath puffing against her neck, the creature continued, “But you can feel pain.”

 

With a thump, its hoof landed squarely between Rouge’s feet.  She yelped, feeling how close the creature was to her.  She tried to back away but the invisible force had come back.  The creature pulled back and the witch light it had earlier summoned floated down to rest below the unicorn’s head, giving the dead face an unholy under-lighting.  Rouge shivered.  She could feel the smears of blood from the creature’s touch dripping down her cheek, mingling with her tears.

 

“You will do what we want,” the dead creature whispered. 

 

Then, with a bang as air flowed in, it was gone.  With it went the constraints on Rouge’s body and she fell to the floor, in the darkness.

 

Choking on her tears, Rouge wiped her cheek with the hem of her shirt and tried not to look at the gobs of blood – Whitehoof’s blood.  They had killed Whitehoof, they had tortured him, then stolen his body.  And she didn’t even know who they were, she realized.  The creature had told her absolutely nothing, except that she was an unknown pawn for some sick game, and she couldn’t do anything to change that.  She covered her face with her hands and tried to stifle her tears.

 

An annoyingly familiar voice rang out.  “Rouge!  Where are you?”  A flutter of wings, the scrape of paws – and then Regalo floated down in front of her.  She rubbed her eyes, her vision blurry from tears and panic, and Rouge stared at the creature.  Regalo looked at her with shock.  “Gods!  What happened?  I just stopped time, so I could talk to you, and then you weren’t there!  And, this!”  It gestured at her face and made to land on the carpet, only to shriek and jolt back up, its wings fluttering; it had almost landed in the smear of blood the creature had hacked up.  “What happened?” Regalo squeaked.

 

“I don’t know!” Rouge cried, covering her face again.  “There was this, and then he had the body of, and he told me – oh, Regalo, what’s happening?”

 

Regalo shivered and floated over to Rouge’s shoulder. “Come on, duck, let’s get you cleaned up.  It’s not important – just forget about it, and you can tell me later if you really want to.  Can’t have you looking like that when we fix time, can we?”  It pushed at Rouge until she stood up on shaky legs and directed her into the bathroom.

 

Rouge sat, unseeing, on the toilet as Regalo fussed over her.  It swabbed at her face with a damp washcloth, only scratching her a little with its claws.  Finally, the small creature dried Rouge’s tears and smiled warily at her, its fangs glinting.  “You okay?  Or, at least, a little better?”  It held two washcloths; one stained with the despicable blood, the other simply damp and cold.  It handed Rouge the latter and gestured for her to rub her face with it again.

 

Following the unspoken directions, Rouge spoke into the washcloth.  The cool fabric felt nice against her skin.  “I thought you were in there – time had already frozen.  But, instead--”  Her voice hitched.

 

“Hush, Rouge, don’t worry about it.  I’m sure it’s not that big a deal,” Regalo said.  Rouge lowered the washcloth in disbelief.  The creature had turned away from her and was wiping down the counters with the other cloth, making the faint specks of blood on the tiled surface disappear.

“Not a big deal?  What do you think caused this?”  She gestured at her face.  “There was a dead – Whitehoof!  Whitehoof was dead, and there was something in its body!  And it told me that I was being used, being groomed for something and that I had better do what they want!”  Rouge’s voice rose in pitch.

 

Regalo swiveled toward Rouge again, its purple eyes wide.  “What?  A dead body was – and they told you that?  Oh, gods, why did they tell you that,” it muttered, covering its own face with its paws.

 

“What?  What do you know about this, Regalo?” Rouge demanded, glaring at the creature.  “Tell me what you know.”

 

Regalo sighed and flapped down to sit on the edge of the counter.  “I don’t know much, duck.  Just that, yes, a group of bad people have been trying to gain control of you.  That’s why the Duchess was always so protective of you!  Leshnakar wasn’t lying when he told you that you have a lot of potential magic floating around inside of you,” Regalo gestured vaguely at her.  “He and the Duchess weren’t the only ones aware of how powerful you could be.  I didn’t know they already making moves toward you, though.  I was hoping.. I was hoping I’d be able to show you why you’re special and get you ready for this, before they actually confronted you.”

Turning back toward the poetry club, Sean and Rouge lapsed into silence as he read over some scrawled notes he had.  The man muttered to himself and Rouge was content to accompany him quietly.  Suddenly, though, Sean stopped and looked over at Rouge, who halted a few steps later, having not noticed.

 

Frowning, Rouge turned curiously back to Sean.  He looked like he was about to say something, his own brow furrowed and his olive skin flushed – probably from the cold, Rouge thought.

 

Whatever Sean was going to say, though, was lost when another voice suddenly shouted, “Adellemina!  Rouge!”  A figure ran out of the gloom and collided with Rouge.  Before she could scream, thick arms were wrapped around her and she was lifted up into a massive hug.

 

Rouge squeaked and Sean shouted, hitting the man, trying to get Rouge away.

 

A familiar laugh erupted, and Paul put Rouge down.  “Rouge!  I found you!”  He clasped her shoulders tightly and held Rouge at an arm’s lengths away, looking at her with a wide grin.  “I thought it was a lost cause, but I found you!”

 

Rouge blinked, trying to catch her breath.  Sean had stopped shouting and hitting and, instead, stood to the side and looked in confusion at Rouge.  “Who is this?” he asked, pointing a thumb at Paul.

 

Paul looked ridiculous.  Dressed in half a suit of dented armor, his chest piece glinted in the ring of light from the streetlight.  His metal boots clanked even as he stood still, but his hands were bare, and he wore dark colored hose.  His goofy grin grew as he watched Rouge.  Flipping his blond hair back with a swish of his head, Paul didn’t even seem to notice Sean.  “I can’t believe it, Rouge!  It really is you!”  He pulled her into another tight, metallic hug.

 

Rouge squeaked again and pushed away from the man.  “Paul, calm down, shut up,” she managed, taking a step back.  “How did you get here?”

 

“Oh, the portal!  Of course!”

 

“What?” she yelped, staring at him.  That’s right – I saw him and Whitehoof right before the darkness took over, she recalled.

 

“The portal!  Or whatever.  Whitehoof and I found you, and that bastard Leshnakar, of course.  Whitehoof told me about his offer to you and I was trying to stop you!  Rouge, why did you do it?”  He shook her shoulders, his big eyes looking plaintively at her.  “The Duchess must be so worried!”

 

Sean broke in again, “Rouge, who is this?”

 

Rouge blinked at Sean, having almost forgotten the dark-haired man.  “Oh, Sean!  This,” she gestured at Paul, “This is Paul.  He’s from Fairy, too!”

 

Paul continued talking, “We need to get back to Fairy!  Why are you here?  This place is so horrible, cold and – haven’t you noticed the way everything is so dead?  There’s no magic here, there’s nothing to latch onto!”  Rouge realized with a start that under the armor, Paul looked incredibly tired and thin, as if he hadn’t eaten or slept for a month.

 

“He’s from Fairy, too?  What?  I thought you were the only one to come here.  What’s going on?” Sean interjected, taking a step forward.

 

Rouge shook her head slowly, staring at Sean over Paul’s arm.  “I have no idea.  Paul, tell me what’s going on!”

 

“I already did,” the swordsman said, looking confused.  “Whitehoof and I came through the portal.  You were already gone, and I knew I had to save you!  Leshnakar yelled when he saw us, and he tried to stop the portal, but I think we got in just in time.  Come on, we need to start figuring out how to get back!”

 

“Whitehoof?  Is he here, too?  Oh, gods, he must stick out like a – “

 

“No, I don’t know where he is!  I found myself in, well, somewhere,” Paul gestured vaguely behind himself, “A few days ago, but I have no idea where Whitehoof got to.  What if he got stuck in the black?  What if the portal was only set to let humans through?”

 

Rouge moaned, covering her face with her hands. “I don’t want to deal with this!  Why did you guys follow me?”

 

Sean spoke loudly, waving his arms, “Tell me what’s going on!  What the hell is happening?”

 

Rouge sighed, still covering her face.  “Sean, I don’t know!  Sean, this is Paul, Paul, this is Sean,” she pointed between the two of them, although she didn’t open her eyes.  “Paul, Sean here has let me live with him and his sister.  Sean, Paul is a… friend, from Fairy.  And I don’t know why he decided to follow me.”  She opened her eyes, then, and glared at Paul.  Paul seemed to have finally decided to acknowledge Sean, and he was smiling cheerfully at the man.  Sean, on the other hand, looked extremely suspicious of the tall, blond man.  “Paul, why did you follow me?  Just tell me simply,” Rouge pleaded.

 

Paul looked even more confused as he turned back to Rouge.  She shrugged his big hands off of her shoulders, and she crossed her arms.  “What?  I already did!  I had to protect you!  You don’t know what kind of people are here, Rouge,” he whispered loudly, leaning down to look her in the eye.  “In Fairy, in Ala’gerra, everyone’s trustworthy – here, though!”  Paul glanced doubtfully at Sean.  “I’ve already had three people try to steal from me, and five women proposition me!”  He looked scandalized.

 

“Paul, you don’t know what you’re talking about.  People are just as nice and trustworthy here as they are back in Ala’gerra,” Rouge chided him, noticing Sean looking angrier every minute.  “You can’t honestly think every courtier in Ala’gerra was honest!  And you – oh, this is pointless.  Paul, we’re going to a thing, so you can wait here or whatever, but it’s not my problem that you decided to come here.”

 

“What about Whitehoof?  And –“

 

Sean interrupted, “Rouge, let’s just go home.  We can figure this whole stupid thing out there.  Casey’ll want to know about this, anyway.”  He had crossed his arms, and a dark look had crossed his face, as he looked between Rouge and Paul.

 

Rouge frowned, but nodded.  “Alright, but you really wanted –“

 

“No, it’s not a big deal.  Let’s just go home.”  Sean started to walk away, toward the bus stop.

 

Rouge paused, looking after Sean, then followed after him.  Paul tagged along, talking quickly to her, “We need to figure out how to get back to Fairy!  Good thing you’re a witch, do you think you can remember what the centaur did to get you here?  The Duchess must be so worried!”

 

“Hush, Paul.  Let me think.”  She hurried after Sean, trying to keep up with him.  When they passed the poetry slam, he hunched in on himself and looked positively unhappy.  Rouge didn’t know what was going on with him, but she was sure she didn’t like it.  It wasn’t like him to just give up so easily, not when during all the time she had known the man, he had been almost overly gregarious and eager to be out and about.  It was his sister who tended toward solitude and quiet.  Sean wanting to go home was like the sky turning purple, in Rouge’s opinion.

 

Soon enough, though, the three of them were stepping off the bus a few blocks north of the apartment building.

 

Paul hadn’t stopped talking.  “And then I tried to find something to eat, but no one wanted to trade with me, not even for the few gold coins I still had with me, because it seemed like no one even thought to believe me that they were gold, but they are, at least, you know, they’re gold in Fairy, do you think things like that are different here, too?  I’ve noticed the air smells different, too, have you noticed that?”

 

Rouge sighed.  “Yes, Paul, it’s because of the pollution here.  Be quiet.”

 

“Pollution?  What do you mean by that?  I still can’t believe that so many people live in this one small area, can you?  It’s so crowded and cramped, I really miss the wide open plains and fields in Ala’gerra, how can you stand this?  It’s overwhelming, really, how many people are here, I don’t think I could ever get used to –“

 

“Well, good thing you want to go back to Fairy then, innit?” Sean snapped, opening the door for them to the apartment building.  “You can be gone as soon as we figure this out.”

 

Rouge opened her mouth to protest, to admit that she had absolutely no idea what to do to get Paul back to Fairy, but instead Paul just washed over her.  “Yeah!  Rouge and I will be out of your hair in a blink, son, so don’t worry about that,” he said, clapping a hand loudly on Sean’s shoulder. 

 

Sean winced, stepping out from under Paul’s hand.  “Uh-huh,” he muttered.  Speaking louder, he called as he entered the apartment, “Casey, we’re home!  Come here!”

 

Casey called back, her voice muffled, “Just a sec, let me finish this paragraph.”

 

Looking around the small kitchen unabashedly, Sean said, “Wow, what’s this place?”

 

Rouge sighed and slumped into one of the kitchen chairs, resting her forehead on the table.  “I can’t believe this.”

 

“Could be worse,” Sean muttered, ruffling her hair as he walked past her.  “Could be that duchess of yours, right?”  He turned and batted Paul’s straying hands away from the various kitchen utensils.  “Come on, man, sit down, stop messing with things.”

 

Rouge lifted her head to say something wearily at Paul, when time froze.

 

Paul was stuck pulling the other chair out from under the table, his expression one of confusion and consternation.  Twisting in her seat, she saw Casey turning the corner, about to speak.  She didn’t seem to have seen Paul yet and was instead looking at her brother, who was leaning against the kitchen counter, clearly pouting.  Rouge stood up and looked around, for some sign of Regalo.

 

There was no pop signifying the creature’s appearance.  It didn’t seem to be anywhere, in fact, and Rouge started to worry.  Where was it?  She called out into the stale air, “Regalo?  You there?”

 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a brief, dark movement out in the hall.  Stifling the shriek that threatened, Rouge slid her wand from her back pocket and carefully tip-toed out of the kitchen.  She paused under the doorjamb and peered down the hallway.  No movement.  The shadows were deep, though; Casey had been working on her computer and in order to save electricity, there were no lights on in the rest of the apartment.  The movement had seemed to be going down toward the living room, though, so Rouge went down that way.  She was deathly aware of the lack of sound.  Outside, even, where usually there was honking, chattering and singing every hour of the day, there was nothing.

Casey got home late that night from a meeting with her advisor.  She leaned against the cold wall of the elevator, skimming the notes she had brought home from the meeting.  They had decided she needed to rework her thesis and then, accordingly, go through all of what she had written and make sure the points she made connected to her new thesis.  Casey sighed, rubbing her eyes fiercely.  Her advisor didn’t want to see the next draft until the end of next week, but she still felt compelled to do at least a large chunk of the work tonight.  Fumbling with the latch on the door, Casey decided to at least perfect the phrasing of her thesis and make up a new outline of her paper as it stands, then go through the first six –

 

Her thoughts were cut off when she stepped into the apartment and heard … nothing.  The faint click-tick of the clock in the living room, but no creaking as either Sean or Rouge came to greet her.  No muffled talking, or stirring from the kitchen, or even a snuffling snore.  Casey frowned, dropping her bag temporarily on the kitchen table, then she quickly wandered around the small apartment.  No, there was no sign of her brother or roommate.  That’s odd…

 

Casey’s sense of worry was growing exponentially when she brought her things into her room and saw that her closet had been ransacked in the neatest way possible.  Someone had clearly opened all her drawers and gone through all her hangers.  A few shirts were thrown to the floor, a couple pairs of shoes were on her bed.

 

“What the…” Casey breathed.  Her breath catching in her throat, she hurried to the small closet that held her computer and, consequently, her life in the form of her thesis.  Flinging open the flimsy door, Casey mentally prayed and – “Oh, thank God.”  If someone had come in, they had avoided this area.  For once, Casey was grateful for the cramped space; it was likely to be mistaken as a linen closet or, at most, where the washing machine and dryer were kept (as if Sean and she had the funds to have their own laundromat).

 

Casey leaned her head against the hallway’s wall and thought.  Nothing seemed to be taken, not really, not from my room.  And they didn’t look hard enough to even find my computer – unless they saw it and didn’t think it was worth stealing, she smirked, opening one eye and looking at the broken down machine.  So where are Sean and Rouge?  Sighing, Casey headed back to the kitchen and decided to make herself something to eat before she tried to solve that mystery.

 

Reaching for the fridge, only then did Casey see the note in her brother’s familiar handwriting.

 

“Sis,” it read.  “Took Rouge with me downtown – you should join us!  She had a long day and I’m performing tonight, so come on down.  At the usual spot, call me if you need directions or if you’re a loser and don’t want to come!  -- your loving and talented brother!”

 

Casey chuckled, putting the note down on the counter.  Well, that made sense then.  Sean was going through another one of his misguided attempts at fame through standup comedy and-or beat poetry, and convinced Rouge, the poor girl, to join him.  A few weeks ago, Casey had impressed upon Rouge that the redhead could wear any of Casey’s clothes, so Rouge had probably finally taken the other girl up on her offer.  Up until now, Rouge had stuck to wearing the very least amount of different clothes she could, clearly not wanting to take too much of Casey’s wardrobe.  Tonight, though, it seemed Rouge wanted something different to wear out on the town, so had probably borrowed a nicer top than the ones she wore to work and, Casey smirked, maybe even some high heels.

 

Starting to cook up some pasta, Casey absently wondered if Sean really wanted his sister to join the two of them tonight.  She had noticed her brother giving Rouge more and more calculated, interested looks lately.  She supposed it had been only a matter of time before her brother the rogue noticed that Rouge was quite pretty for a fairy-girl.  Casey felt her cheeks warm, absently marking the change down to the steam rising from the near boiling water.  Rouge certainly was a looker, although the other girl didn’t seem very aware of it.  In fact, Casey thought, Rouge didn’t seem to notice anyone’s looks, let alone her own.  Casey shrugged, thinking maybe in Fairy people just expressed those feelings differently.  She was sure that if anyone could get Rouge to let her guard down, it’d be Sean.  He was infamous in the university district for being a charmer; even when girls knew about his reputation, it didn’t seem to be a major deterrent, oddly enough.

 

Dumping a handful of penne noodles into the water and starting to stir them around, Casey mused that Sean had probably sucked all of that potential out of her when they were in the womb; heaven knew she didn’t have any luck.  She frowned at the pot of pasta.  Seemed like every girl Casey managed to bring home ended up being enthralled with Sean.  And a fair chunk of the boys, too.  Very irritating, but Casey knew her brother didn’t mean to do it.  People were drawn to him and she couldn’t fault him that.  He was a people person and, she … Casey sighed, glancing in the direction of her computer.  She was a book person.

 

Casey sat down to eat and poked at the lumpy canned sauce she had heated up.  She wasn’t sure if she’d go out tonight, after all.  Her thesis needed doing, and it was a long bus ride downtown when you took it alone.  Plus it was already pretty dark out.  Eating mechanically, Casey eventually decided it’d be better for her to just stay in and let the other two enjoy themselves.  She finished dinner and retired to her closet.

 

--

 

“And so the fat man says, ‘I never even saw him there!’”  Sean looked expectantly out at his audience.

 

Rouge sat in the middle of the room.  She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to laugh or clap, especially since no one else in the small club was.  She settled for smiling encouragingly at Sean, who looked obliviously happy.  It was open-mic night at this club, and Sean claimed he came here almost every other week to, as he said, “perfect his art.”  “They love me there!” he had claimed as they rode the bus downtown.  “And the best part?  After the comedy acts, next door is a poetry bar.  Wait until you see me perform, Rouge, you’ll be amazed that I haven’t been picked up by an agent yet!”  Rouge had grinned and nodded; she had been so innocent, she now reflected.  Looking up at Sean, Rouge wondered if he really was as oblivious as he looked.  Maybe it was an ironic act?  He told horrible, unoriginal jokes and pretended to think they were great when, really, he knew how bad they were?  Pursing her lips and listening to the next joke, Rouge decided that, no, he really was as earnest as he seemed to be.

 

“So, a termite walks into a bar, right?” Sean leaned on the mic stand.  “And he asks, ‘Hey, is the bartender here?’”

 

He waited for laughter again, but before Rouge could even manage a weak grin, Sean plowed on.

 

“Alright, so, a man walks into a bar, and he has his dog with him.  The bartender says, ‘No pets allowed!  You and your dog need to leave!’  The guy, he says, ‘Wait, wait.  What if he’s a special dog?’” Sean gestured with his hands, holding them up like mouths and moving each for the various parts.  The two hands faced each other as the man and bartender talked.  “The bartender goes, ‘What, like a seeing-eye dog?  What do you mean?’  The man shakes his head, ‘No!  He’s a talking dog!’  Bartender sneers and goes, ‘No, you need to leave.’  ‘No, really, I can prove it!’  The bartender finally says, ‘Well, okay, if you can prove that he’s a talking dog, he can stay.’

 

“Guy turns to his dog, this little mutt, and he goes, ‘Okay, so, what does sandpaper feel like?’”  The hand that used to represent the bartender drops and clearly becomes the dog, looking worshipfully up at his master.  “The dog cocks his head to one side and then, thoughtfully, says, ‘Ruff!’  The bartender starts to protest, but the man says, ‘No, wait!  Dog, what’s on top of a house?’  Again, the dog looks thoughtful for a second.  ‘Roof!’ the dog barks.  Bartender’s getting a bit fed up now, right?  He goes, ‘This is ridiculous!  Come on, guy, leave already.’

 

Rouge fidgeted, playing with the straw bouncing out of her Coke.  Looked like tonight was going to be a really long night, she reflected.

 

Sean grinned down at her, his dark hair glinting in the yellow spotlight.  “Guy says, ‘One more try!’ and the bartender sighs and nods.  Guy points at his dog,” and Sean spun, pointing to the side of the stage.  “’Dog, who was the best ballplayer ever?’  Dog waits a few seconds, then replies sharply, ‘Ruth!’  Bartender is fed up, kicks them out in a bit of a ruckus.  Dog and guy are sitting on the curb, mourning their lack of alcohol –“

 

A voice rang out from somewhere in the back of the club, “They probably need it, having to deal with your crap jokes!”

 

Sean faltered, but finished weakly, “And, uh, and then the dog asks, ‘Do you think I should’ve said DiMaggio?”  He frowned, his tone dropping sharply.

 

Rouge glared over her shoulder, trying to determine who it was that had shouted, but the room was so badly lit, she couldn’t see even see the next table over clearly, so she frowned and instead turned back to Sean.  She clapped for him, which seemed to revive some of his energy.

 

He finished, grinning, “So, why don’t they play hockey at the leper colony anymore?  Because there was a face-off in the corner!” 

 

Rouge groaned, but was sure to keep a grin on his face.

 

“And why don’t they play poker at the leper colony?  Everyone kept throwing their hands in!”  Sean bowed, chuckling to himself.  “Thank you, thank you!  I’ll be here again next week, I do private parties – no matter how private,” he finished, looking out at the audience and winking lasciviously. 

 

Rouge smirked, but Sean didn’t even seem to be looking directly at her, although, at the same time, the gesture was surprisingly invasive.  It was as if in a single wink he undressed every woman in the room, took photographs and then dashed out the door.  Rouge shook her head, her smirk growing, as Sean sauntered off the stage and into what she knew was a three foot square area that passed for “backstage”. 

 

Five or so minutes later, once the next bad comedian was deep into his set, Sean slipped out into the audience and plopped down across from Rouge.

 

“Hey!  So, what’d you think?”  His grin was amazingly open and innocent.

 

Rouge didn’t know what to say.  “It was, um.  It was really different from humor back home?” she attempted.

 

Sean nodded, leaning back and tipping his chair back on the back two legs.  “I bet!  I bet all the jokes back there are all bad puns about wood nymphs!”

 

“Actually,” Rouge mused, “The Duchess banned puns ten years ago.  She said they irritated her, but I think she just didn’t like not getting them all the time.”

 

Sean laughed aloud.  “Ah, the joys of being an absolute ruler!  Well done, her.”

 

“Yeah, she was alright.  Really nice when she wanted to be,” Rouge nodded.  “But, you know, her will was law, basically.  And her will changed a lot.  Her whims changed a lot.  I was lucky that she liked me for as long as she did.”

 

Reaching over the table to pull her Coke over, Sean took a long drink before he asked, “How long was that, anyway?”

 

Rouge looked thoughtful.  “I’m not exactly sure.  Like I’ve said before, time flows differently there.  Maybe.. twenty five years?  Thirty?  I know biologically I’m eighteen, but I think it’s been around thirty years since Gaiberry brought me to Fairy.”

 

“Huh.  Do you notice time going differently here?”

 

Rouge shook her head.  “Maybe once I’m here for longer I will, but so far it’s not a big change.”

 

Sean opened his mouth, looking like he was about to say something, but the current comedian suddenly got a big laugh from the crowd.  Sean frowned, glancing up at the stage.  “Hey, do you want to walk around outside a bit, before we head to the poetry slam?”

 

Taking back her drink, Rouge quickly drank the dregs of the soda, then she nodded.  “Sure.  It’s a bit stuffy in here, anyway.”

 

Sean stood and grabbed both of their coats, handing Rouge’s hers as they made their way to the door.  They paused near the bar, where Sean had a brief discussion with the owner of the bar.  Rouge couldn’t hear the details, but the brunet was bad to grinning cheerfully even as the owner seemed to be rather disparaging, probably because of his bad act.  Sean didn’t look that bothered; it was a free-for-all event and he enjoyed coming here every other week.  Rouge figured Sean must be aware of how little the audience liked him, but as long as he enjoyed himself… Rouge shrugged into her coat, smiling bemusedly at Sean.  She couldn’t imagine being so secure in her own lack of talent.

 

Stepping into the evening air, Rouge shivered and zipped up her coat.

 

Glancing over at the redhead, Sean commented, “We’ll have to get you a heavier coat soon.  I think Casey only has the one, so you can’t borrow hers, but winter’s going to be hitting pretty hard in a few weeks.”

 

“Payday’s coming up.  Maybe I can find something then,” Rouge replied.

 

“Sounds good.”

 

They walked a few blocks south, enjoying the clear night and talking about nothing important.  Sean seemed a little more nervous about the poetry slam than he had before the stand-up comedy, so Rouge was content to let him walk out his jitters.  She wondered if the poetry was actually important to him, as opposed to how flippant he seemed regarding the comedy.

((Bad jokes courtesy of Kevin.  lol ilu Kevin.))

Regalo winked, “Just follow my lead.”  And time started again.

 

Rouge stumbled as the other people around her suddenly started moving again, and the car drove past, spraying her with dirty water.  The dog barked, the couple laughed.  The sudden din was overwhelming, and Rouge covered her face with her hands and stopped walking, trying to adjust to the crowds.  The growing sense of agoraphobia was something Sean and Casey had helped Rouge deal with when she first arrived on Earth.  While there had never been a lack of courtiers and servants around the grounds of Ala’gerra, they had never been packed into such a small space as the sidewalk or the grocery store, always bustling with people, each intent on getting their own work done no matter what.  Closing her eyes, Rouge tried to calm her breathing and remember that the crowds were just people and nothing to be scared of.

 

She was jostled to the side of the sidewalk, near one of the dirty brick buildings lining the street.  Rouge managed to calm herself down, but in doing so she was almost distracted from the fuzzy outline of Regalo she realized was still floating a few feet from her.  If Rouge tried to focus on the shadow-like figure, it melted away, so she tried to content herself with glancing at Regalo out of the corner of her eye, where it seemed the most solid. 

 

It seemed to be gesturing at her, pointing down this street or that, so Rouge followed where it led.  The path deviated from her normal route home and when she turned left where she normally went straight, Rouge hesitated only a moment before she followed after Regalo.  She was reasonably confident she’d be able to find her way back to the apartment.  Finally, when Regalo seemed to actually, completely fade away, Rouge was a good four or five blocks from the apartment.

 

Rouge looked around the unfamiliar street and tried to see what it was Regalo wanted to point out to her.  She was looking down a smaller street – in fact, it would’ve been an alley were it not for the three small shops opening out onto the litter-covered pavement.  She didn’t see anyone in the shops, though, despite their glaringly red “Open” signs.  Taking a few steps further into the street, Rouge narrowed her eyes and looked around.  A squirrel poked its head out from under a torrent of garbage flowing out of a poorly tended garbage can.  A surprisingly neat stack of aluminum cans stood a few feet away from her, opposite the door to a restaurant.  Some of the cans were painted, and Rouge wondered if it was an art piece.  She walked on.

 

As Rouge started to walk toward the second store, a clothing consignment store, there was a sudden change in the atmosphere.  The air, which had before been only slightly chilly, turned freezing and somehow completely still.  It seemed to Rouge that the air in the alley seemed suddenly musty, as if she had entered an old attic that had been shut up for many years.  Just as she started to look around suspiciously, though, it changed again.  A sudden gust of extremely strong wind screamed all around her, almost knocking her off of her feet.  Rouge threw up her arms, trying to cover her face, and she squinted between her corduroy clad arms to look around the alley.  At first she was willing to accredit the strange changes in the weather to natural forces, but from what she could see and hear of the swirling bursts, the witch realized it could be nothing but magical in nature.

 

The wind screamed around her and seemed to be focused on just her; it affected and blew over nothing else.  Rouge strained to listen to the wind, thinking that its loud shrieking as it swirled around could be a hint, but she wasn’t able to understand any of the sounds, even if they were indeed language of some sort.  Fumbling, she managed to get her wand out and pointed it hesitantly outwards.  Rouge turned around, looking for some source of the magic, but she still seemed to be alone.

 

“Show yourself!” Rouge shouted, well aware that her voice was probably lost in the gusts of wind.  She tried again, louder, “Come forward!”

 

No response, although it seemed the wind got even stronger.  Rouge hunched in on herself.  One arm was flung forward, clutching her wand, another still protecting her face.  The wind’s power grew.  Whoever was creating it seemed to lose control then, because while it remained as intense as ever, it seemed to lose its focus on Rouge.  Instead, the painted cans she had noticed earlier, and the overflowing garbage, started to be flung about, creating a loud ruckus.  The sound of aluminum and other metals banging against the dusty brick walls reverberated throughout the alley.  The lights of the stores all shut off at once.  From the flickering “Open” signs to the overhead lights within the stores – everything went dark.

 

Rouge was about to shout again when a high-pitched scream interrupted her.  Rouge spun, looking for the source of the sound.  Whoever was screaming was obviously terrified and, as Rouge looked wildly for the source, the scream turned into tortured sobs.

 

“Stop it!  Show yourself!” Rouge shouted again.

 

No response.  Rouge stood still and covered her face with her bare hands, ignoring the wind whipping around her face, her hair slapping and stinging her cheeks.  She started to concentrate, trying to focus her power into a shield shape.  It was slow-going against such power as the wind concentrating around her and in the alley, but Rouge attempted to reach out and block the wind, at least from her.  She figured that if she wasn’t bothered by the wind, she could concentrate on finding where the screaming was coming from.

 

Rouge clenched her jaw and involuntarily cried out when, just as she managed a feeble shield around herself, the magic was abruptly stolen away and, she could tell, turned directly into more fuel for the wind around her.  It burnt her mind to feel her magic so roughly pulled away and it seemed like the power itself was now screaming, echoing the continued pained cry.  She could feel the power being twisted into a form she hadn’t meant for it and felt like she was being forced into a space five times too small.  Rouge cried out again and crumpled to the ground, kneeling, still clenching her head.

 

“Stop it!”  Rouge shook her head, and tried to point her wand out again, but her arm was flung back by a gust of wind that felt like a hammer.  She wasn’t even trying to channel her magic out to shield herself anymore, but she felt it still being drained away.  Rouge tried to concentrate on at least blocking off her magic from who or whatever was sucking it out of her, but she didn’t even feel strong enough to do that.

 

Finally, she collapsed fully, lying prone on the ground.  Rouge groaned, curling into a fetal position.  It was as if her very soul was being sucked out.  She wondered how this was happening; if no one on Earth knew magic, how could someone steal hers?  This felt like the ritual where she had poured out her magic to feed the portal to Earth, but at least Leshnakar had warned her, and she was doing it of her own free will –

 

Rouge’s eyes snapped open, despite the pain and the screaming wind still whipping around her.  She tried to look around, although she was suddenly very weak and found herself unable to move easily.  There, in the corner!  Hidden by the gloom under an umbrella by the restaurant, was a shockingly familiar dark torso, hooves and – another figure.  Green eyes  flashed out of the dark.

 

Rouge’s head lolled again and her vision started to seriously fade.  The sucking sensation continued, ever stronger.

 

 “Was that supposed to happen?” asked a squeaky, immaterial voice from somewhere above Rouge’s head.

 

A deep but feminine voice answered.  “Yes.”

 

---

 

When Rouge became aware of herself again, she was warm.  Something heavy was on top of her.  Soft.  She twitched her fingers, feeling slightly.  Under her, familiar sheets.  It was a knit blanket on top of her.  She poked her fingers through the yarn.  She kept her eyes closed and her breathing as steady as she could, although Rouge heard no other sounds in the room that hinted at another presence.  A tick-tick of a clock.  The whoosh of the vent. 

 

Slowly, Rouge cracked open her eyes.  Yes, she was .. at home.  In the apartment.  She was on the couch, which had long since evolved to be her bed.  At first Sean tried to foist his room upon the girl, but Rouge had been steadfast in not overly displacing either of her new roommates.  So, the purple couch and the cluttered main room had become her domain, although the girl had been careful not to spread out too much.  Shifting slightly on the couch, Rouge looked down at herself and lifted up the knit blanket.  She was still dressed in her clothes from earlier, minus the sneakers and thick coat. 

 

Rouge frowned, trying to remember what happened.  She let her head drop back onto the lumpy pillow as she thought.  She had left work and had been heading home, like normal.  Then – oh!  Regalo!  Rouge gasped as the memory.  That’s right, Leshnakar’s third gift had finally shown itself.  Rouge vaguely wished the gift had chosen to manifest itself in a more pleasing, less annoying form, but she supposed it was magic of some complicated sort that couldn’t hope to fully understand; she should just be grateful for the gift as it was.  What had Regalo told her, though?  Rouge rubbed her eyes, trying to recall.  Something about how –

 

Just as she was about to grasp the thought, she heard a soft pop above her, and she opened her eyes.

 

Regalo grinned down at her.  It sat in mid-air, looking at the prone young woman, resting its pointy chin in furry paws.  “You’re awake!”

 

Rouge nodded, frowning in confusion at the apparition. “What… What happened?”

 

“Oh, you don’t remember?  I was worried about that,” Regalo frowned mournfully.  It turned upside-down, so its frown turned into a cheerful grin.  “But you remember me, right?”

 

Rouge nodded again and tried to sit up.  She rested her back against the wooden arm of the couch and blinked at Regalo.

 

“Well, that’s a blessing, innit?  Less explaining that I have to do, for sure!”  Regalo bounced gently in the air.  “Well, I told you I was going to help you find out why the Duchess had chosen you, and then you started following me.  Remember that?”  Rouge nodded.  “And then, jeez!  Kapow!”  Turning the right side up, Regalo gestured wildly with its paws, stretching his arms wide and then clapping his paws together with a bang.  “This crazy guy tried to attack you!  You’d just turned into this alley and then he just came out of nowhere!  And let me tell you,” Regalo giggled, “This guy stank like nothing else!  I think you automatically reacted with magic, right?  And then he got knocked out, but you seemed to have overexerted yourself.  I used as much magic as I could to pop us both here.  I don’t think anyone else is home, so they’ll just think you came home like normal.”

 

Rouge frowned.  “That’s… That explains why I feel so empty, I guess.  I feel like all my magic was sucked out of me.”

 

“That’ll teach you to attack willy-nilly, I suppose,” Regalo said, floating down a bit until it was at eye-level with her.  “I was really worried about you!  How can you fulfill your mission – and how can I help you do that! – if you keep knocking yourself out?”  It waggled a finger at her and winked.  “You better be more careful, miss!”

 

“Green eyes,” Rouge muttered, rubbing her own eyes.  “I remember green eyes right before I … And wind.  There was a lot of wind.”

 

Rouge looked up when she felt a warm, but slightly insubstantial paw on her shoulder.  Regalo was bending over to look at her face.  “Are you okay?  I mean, I guess it was a little windy out there, and I didn’t, you know, see the color of the guy’s eyes, but.. Maybe you ought to rest a bit.  Tomorrow we can start out again.”  It smiled at her in an encouragingly manner.

 

“Yeah, you’re right,” she acquiesced.  “I should just take it easy.  I’ve never felt this drained before,” she lamented, raising one hand and letting it drop weakly to demonstrate her lack of power.  Rouge looked around the room for the clock.  “Yeah.. I’ll rest for another half hour, then start dinner,” she planned.  Laying back down, her eyelids suddenly felt very heavy.  “Just for half an hour, though.  Wake me up, willya, Regalo?” she murmured.

 

“Of course,” it responded quietly.

Kiddrich gestured at the relatively empty chair across the desk from him.  “Sit, sit!” he rumbled.  Rouge carefully picked up the stack of papers from the seat of the chair and, hesitating, opted to sit and rest the papers on her lap once she saw there was no other clear, or easily cleared, space in the room where she could set them.  Pulling a seemingly random piece of paper out from under the piles on his desk, Kiddrich continued, “So, Sean’s told me, well, not a lot about you, but your application seems pretty good.  You’ve never worked at a bookstore, though, you say?”  He looked closely at her.

 

Rouge swallowed.  “No, but I have spent a lot of time in libraries and I like books a lot.”  She wasn’t sure how much of a selling point that was.

 

Kiddrich seemed pleased with her answer.  “Good, good!  You’d be surprised how many culturally illiterate applicants we get,” he laughed.  “Who’s Proust, they ask!  Who’s Joyce!”

 

Rouge tried to smile.  She had no idea who these people were.

 

“Anyway, Sean basically convinced me before you came in,” Kiddrich winked, and let out a loud, friendly laugh as she stared in shock at him.  “He’s a good employee!  And when he told me about his new roommate, with this sob story of no family, no money, etcetera, etcetera, what could I do?  Anyway, we’ve been looking for a new stock boy – well, girl in this case.  It’s only twenty hours a week, but there’s room for more hours once we get a handle on how you fit in the store.  Anyway, how does that sound?”

 

“Great,” Rouge stammered, still looking in surprise at the man. 

 

He showed her where to sign on the forms and before she could think, the redhead was out among the stacks, putting away books.  Over the next eight hours, she had to constantly stop herself from sitting down on the hardwood floor and start devouring the books.  These were so different from the tomes in the Ala’gerra library; novels were virtually unheard of in Fairy, as most fiction of that sort was transmitted vocally, by travelling bards and troupes of players.

 

Rouge’s new job at the bookstore propelled her through the next week.  She was only working every other day, which still left her with more than enough time to cook and clean the apartment for her new roommates.  She was settling nicely into the domestic life and even planned to push at least some portion of her first paycheck on the twins, to help supplement their rent and utilities checks.  Rouge hadn’t meant to, but she had accidentally overheard Casey and Sean discussing the bills and, combined with Casey’s tuition, it seemed like it was a constant stretch for them.  Another mouth to feed couldn’t be helping, either.

 

Life on Earth was going smoothly for the redhead.  She still did magic, of course, since it was easier than chopping the carrots herself, or vainly reaching to dust the top shelf at the bookstore.  Casey and Sean introduced Rouge to some of their other friends; she had even seen a movie at the big theater up the road once.  Sometimes, late at night, Rouge thought about Fairy, and the Duchess, and even Gaiberry, but that life seemed so long ago now, it was hard for her to really connect to it.

 

So, when Leshnakar’s gift finally presented itself on her way home from work one day, Rouge almost screamed in surprise.

 

Stepping up onto the sidewalk, Rouge buried her hands in her coat, enjoying the furry warmth in the midst of the growing cold of autumn.  She looked up, scanning the crowds in front of her on the off chance she’d recognize one of the faces – so many human faces!  She wasn’t sure she’d ever get completely used to that – and then froze.  As she watched, everyone and everything around her slowed down until they were completely still.  Rouge, on the other hand, could still move freely.  She turned around in a circle, looking in amazement at the people around her.  A young couple caught in mid-embrace.  A dog only half way through a jump, his owner grinning and looking as if he was about to say something.  A nearby car froze as it began to splash a puddle onto the pedestrians; Rouge poked at the floating droplets, marveling at them.

 

Someone cleared their throat behind her.

 

Rouge spun, automatically pulling her wand from her back pocket, where she had magicked it to stay securely.  “Who are you?” she demanded, looking for the source of the noise.

 

Nothing moved.  No one spoke.

 

“Hello?” Rouge called.

 

Suddenly, there was a pop as a small creature appeared in mid-air around three feet from her, at eye level.  It looked something like a fairy, complete with iridescent, butterfly wings, but it also had a furry tail and paws.  It grinned, its sharp fangs glinting, and its large purple eyes were glued on Rouge. 

 

“Hello!” it squeaked.

 

Rouge tilted her head to one side, looking at the strange creature.  “What are you?”

 

“I’m nothing!  Well, I’m something, I mean, but, really, I don’t exist, so I don’t think I can be classified as anything in particular,” it giggled.  Twirling in mid-air, the creature smoothed down the simple dark blue shift, its chocolate brown curls bouncing.  “It’s nice to meet you, though.  You can call me Regalo!”

 

“Regalo …?” Rouge narrowed her eyes.  “That’s ‘gift’.”

 

Regalo nodded.  “Exactly right.  I’m the, what’s the word… physical manifestation of the gift the master gave you.”

 

“The master?  You mean Leshnakar, right?  You serve him?”

 

“Well, not anymore,” Regalo amended mournfully.  “He gave me to you, didn’t he?”  The creature didn’t look completely happy about this change.  Shaking its head, Regalo beamed shakily at Rouge.  “And so here I am!  I will do my best to direct you to your end goals!”

 

Rouge opened her mouth to ask something, but the frozen bodies around her distracted her momentarily.  “Are you going to have to do this,” she gestured at the still people, cars and creatures, “Every time?”

 

“Oh, not if you don’t want!  I just thought it’d be easier.  Anyway, really, I didn’t do anything!”  Regalo grinned and flew gently away, stopping to rest on the head of a tall man to Rouge’s right.  “Not to make you think you’re crazy or anything, but this is all in your head, and it’s happening in  less than a nanosecond!”  Regalo snapped its fingers.  “If you’d rather, though, we can talk in real-time.  People might think you’re crazy, though.”

 

Rouge nodded slowly, taking a few cautious steps.  “Well… I don’t know, I’m not sure I like this.  Could you just wait to appear to me, or whatever, until I’m alone?  Or, would other people be able to see you?”

 

“Not unless you want them to.”

 

“It might be better to keep you secret.  For now, at least,” Rouge said, looking curiously at the creature.  “So…  Why are you appearing now?”

 

“Well, I thought it’d be obvious!  It’s time for you to start working toward your goal!”  Regalo giggled.

 

Rouge decided the creature’s constant giggling was a little annoying.  “What goal?  Unless you’re going to help me get more hours at the store, that is.”

 

Regalo sighed comically.  “Your goal of finding out why the Duchess chose you, over all the other children on Earth, of course!”  It flew down to just in front of Rouge again.  Poking her nose, Regalo joked, “You didn’t think it was just for your looks, did you?  There’s something special about you, you must’ve known that.  And, with my help, we’re going to figure out what!”

 

“Special?” Rouge repeated.  She looked down at herself, as if the special feature Regalo was talking about would suddenly be obvious.  “I’ve never thought about it, I guess.  The Duchess said it was because she liked my red hair.”

 

“Yes, that’s what she said.  You think it was just a coincidence that she picked a beautiful, redheaded baby that also has as much magical power as you do?”  Regalo grinned, flexing.  “Rouge, you are special, and we’re going to find out exactly how.”

 

Rouge frowned, taking a moment to think.  Was she really “special”?  Trimble and Gaiberry had taught her that her magic potential had only showed itself because she was in Fairy and that, probably, there were a lot of humans who had the power to be witches or wizards, but since they lived on Earth, there was no chance for their abilities to manifest.  But was that true?  What if the Duchess had actually known about her power back when she was only one year old, and that’s why the Duchess had chosen her?  And, if so… There must be a way to recognize potential power.  What if Rouge could get a hold of that technology?  She could figure out what other humans had the potential to work magic, and maybe she could teach them, or at least band together with them… Her mind raced and everywhere it ended up, she was a star.

 

“So what do I do?”

The young man continued as he turned away and started to dig through the fridge.  “So you two taking a class together, or what?  Am I interrupting a study session?”  He poked his head over the door of the fridge, holding a package of hot dogs.  “Or is this just good, old-fashioned girl talk time?  I know some pretty juicy gossip about Sis, here, so let me tell you –“

 

Casey cut her brother off.  “I just met her.  She appeared in our living room.”  Sean blinked at his sister.  “I know.  She says she’s from ‘Fairy’,” Casey continued, using air quotes.

 

“But I am!  I didn’t know this would be so unbelievable, so unheard of over here!  How are all the missing babies and children explained, if humans don’t know about Fairy?” Rouge protested loudly.  “How can I prove it to you?”

 

Casey glanced at her brother.  He had stopped opening up the hot dogs and returned his sister’s bewildered look.  She shrugged and he turned to face Rouge again.  “Uh.  Fairy, huh?  Can you do magic?”

 

Rouge nodded enthusiastically, picking up her stick.  “Yes!  But she saw me do some earlier, and that didn’t convince her, so –“

 

Casey blinked.  “That was magic? I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”  In the face of everything else, she had honestly almost forgotten about the strange smoke that had poured out of the girl’s mouth.

 

“So that’s your… wand?”  Sean pointed at the stick.  He was starting to grin; Casey knew she didn’t like the look, but she couldn’t read it accurately enough to know if he was starting to believe the girl or not.

 

Grinning, Rouge waved the stick around a bit.  “Yeah!  See, I guess humans do know something about magic.  Here, I’ll…”  She looked around the kitchen blankly.  “Oh, I know.  Simple stuff.”  She pointed her wand at the toaster behind Sean, on the counter, and waved it gently, saying something that sounded to Casey’s ears like, “Krizpicklikken!” 

Casey just about screamed.  The toaster sprouted four little metallic legs and started walking along the counter.  It seemed to snuffle at the scuffed surface, its back legs sliding as it scratched along.  When the toaster came to the fridge, it kept walking for a few moments (Casey absently realized it didn’t have any eyes, poor thing), but eventually it turned around and sat down, its little feet twitching.

 

Sean simply said, “Cool.”

 

Rouge grinned at them both. “I told you!  I mean, this isn’t real magic, it’s just the sort of trick the Duchess liked to see in Court, and it amused the babies, but it’s harmless enough and it’s fun to play around with. I hope the legs don’t mess up with how it works.  If it does, I can take them off, no problem, don’t worry about it, um, so what do you guys think?”

 

Casey stared at Rouge in shock.  She wasn’t crazy.  Or, else, her traitorous mind whispered, they all were.

 

Sean seemed to have none of his sister’s shock and, instead, had squatted next to Rouge and had started pelting her with questions, getting the back story he had missed.  The boy was a much better audience to Rouge’s wild story, as he was instantly drawn into the fantastical drama, without half as much skepticism as his sister had faced it with.  Casey twisted her lips, looking at the two of them.  Rouge was back to gesturing madly with her hands and, in fact, had conjured up small figures that Casey supposed looked like the characters in her story.  Sean had never been able to step back and look at situations with a clear head, Casey thought, wryly looking at them.  Even if Rouge was telling the truth, it couldn’t hurt to be a little cautious about the situation.  For instance, was she the only one a little worried about this centaur’s true motive in sending Rouge here?

 

Shaking her head, Casey stood up and picked up the hot dogs Sean had thoughtlessly left on the counter.  She set about making some dinner for the three of them.

 

The next three weeks passed in a blur.  Walking behind Sean on the way to his work, Rouge yet again looked around the busy streets outside of Sean and Casey’s apartment with wide eyes.  Earth was so cool.  Not a day had gone by without Rouge thanking her lucky stars for appearing in the twins’ apartment.  Rouge had originally been slightly put off by Casey’s never-ending cynicism, but Rouge knew it was a realistic way for the girl to look at life, especially in the face of a random girl appearing from Fairy in the middle of her living room.  Rouge hadn’t quite understood the complexities of the situation when she first arrived, but after almost a month on Earth, things seemed to be leveling out. 

 

She had spent the last three weeks learning as much about Earth as she could and, also, discovering she absolutely loved coffee.  Not everything about Earth was as great as she would’ve hoped, though.  There had very rarely been violent warfare in Fairy, as most disagreements between Kingdoms were talked out, and while paperweights might be thrown, and nasty propaganda spread, there was never the kind of violence common on Earth, from what Casey referred to as the Middle East, to the fear of robbery and rape right on the streets of Seattle.  Television had been another shock to Rouge.  While at first it had amazed the girl, soon it became clear to her that it was nothing but a distraction from the real world, and not even a very satisfying distraction at that. 

 

But, while the past three weeks had sped by, Rouge had recently realized she couldn’t continue on the track she had unintentionally set for herself.  She had come to Earth for a reason and the fact that Leshnakar’s gift hadn’t presented itself yet worried her daily.  Maybe the centaur had tricked her, but Rouge was positive that the price for the gift had been taken from her and, in Fairy, it was virtually impossible to renege on a deal like that.  She hadn’t spoken to Sean or Casey about it, not wanting to worry or confuse the twins, but Rouge’s mind picked at the problem like an annoying scab.  The most worrying aspect, she sometimes thought, was the fact that Rouge didn’t consider her payment to be that big of a price.  Part of her mind didn’t agree, at all, and protested that the ability to love is what made life worth living, but she could never see the serious nature of such protests.  Perhaps it was because her heart felt a little cauterized, but Rouge could never get herself to care about her lack of feelings.

 

It wasn’t as if she couldn’t feel affection for anyone.  Once Casey had gotten over her initial disbelief, the older woman had been consistently nice and thoughtful to Rouge.  Rouge didn’t believe they’d ever be extremely close friends, but they managed to spend days upon days with each other and live comfortably.  Once Rouge had learned how to use the oven, Casey had warmed up to the girl even more, pushing her to explore her gift of cooking.  Rouge knew the other girl didn’t like to cook, and Sean was inherently awful at it, so she did her best to repay her sudden roommates in whatever way she could.

 

Sean was unbelievably nice and accommodating – if Rouge ever doubted that, she simply had to remember where they were going: he was getting her a job!  A few days ago, Sean had asked Rouge what her long term plan was here on Earth.  She didn’t want to bring up the gift again, so had instead said the first thing that had come to her mind.

“Maybe I’ll go to college, like Casey,” she’d said, stirring the pasta.

 

Sean pointed out, trying to dip a finger in the sauce she was making.  “Well, you’d need money for that.”

 

The redhead pushed Sean’s finger away.  “Oh.  That’s true.  I don’t really have any of that.  I mean, I could conjure some, but …”

 

“No-o you won’t,” Casey said, entering the room and the discussion.  “You could get a job or something, although I’m not sure how you’d swing getting your citizenship.”

 

Rouge had blanched at the idea of all the red tape she’d have to go through in order to work legally in America.  “I could… magic my way into the system.”

 

Casey had started to protest, but Sean had interjected, “C’mon, sis.  Really, what’s the problem with that?  She’d just be skipping a few steps, is all, and you know there’s no way she would otherwise get in the system.  How would she fill out all those forms?  ‘Country of Origin?’  ‘Fairy!’  ‘Parents names?’ ‘Uhhhh,’” he joked, throwing his voice high and low for the corresponding parts.

 

Casey had laughed and finally acquiesced, although she didn’t seem happy about Rouge’s skipping around the system.  To tell the truth, Rouge thought, as she tried to keep Sean’s red jacket in view as they walked down the crowded streets, neither was she.  If there had been a legal way to make her an American citizen, Rouge would’ve jumped on it.  But she supposed this was what that second gift of Leshnakar’s would’ve fixed for her.  Instead, she had had to do many hours of research on the internet to find out exactly what she would need to have, then she had to create from scratch the rituals to change the existing databases – it’s not like her books back in Fairy ever mentioned how to break into the government’s databases so as to include a fake persona.  It had taken hours, but when Rouge stepped out of the makeshift concentration circle, she brought with her a Social Security card, a birth certificate and even a credit report.

 

Sean was now doing his part.  He worked at a small bookstore a few blocks from the apartment and had convinced his boss to hire his new roommate on part time.  Rouge was slightly worried, since she was still struggling with consistently reading English correctly; the spell she had cast on her throat didn’t actually allow her to speak English, but instead was something like a translator box.  Anything she spoke in the pseudo-French she and the other humans had spoken was translated into English the instant it left her vocal cords, and anything in English she heard was accordingly translated in her mind.  It made for a strange effect that she was still just getting used to; it was odd thinking in her own language, and meaning to speak in that language, only to hear strangely harsh, guttural sounds pour out of her mouth.  In return, on one level the English that Casey and Sean spoke at her still sounded like gibberish, but it also sounded like the language she had grown up speaking.  When she explained the mechanics of the spell to the twins, they laughed and said that explained the strange phrases she used sometimes.  Rouge figured they meant the idioms from the pseudo-French that didn’t have a direct correlation in English, so they were translated literally, and tended to catch Casey and Sean off guard.

 

Spoken English came smoothly to Rouge’s consciousness, but it still took a moment or two for her brain to catch the written English she would read.  Her research for her citizenship spell had helped train her mind, but Rouge was a little worried about the few moments of dumbness in her work at the bookshop.  Sean had assured her that she’d be fine, and that if it happened a lot the customers would probably just assume she was on a little bit of drugs, but Rouge would rather avoid any problems that would cause her stick out.

 

There was no more time to brood, though, since she and Sean had reached the store and he was starting to prep her on how to act to his boss.

 

“Now, Mr. Kiddrich is a real nice guy, but sometimes he doesn’t quite know how to act around us.  He used to be an employee here and I think sometimes he wishes he still was, you know?  Less stress, less responsibility – less money,” Sean winked, leading Rouge by the elbow to the office in the back of the store.  “But don’t worry about that – just means that any awkwardness from him should cover any leftover strangeness on your part, right?”  He opened the door for her.  “Come on, Fairy-girl.”

 

Rouge frowned at his nickname, but walked into the little office at his gesture.  At the crowded desk sat a man just around ten years older than the two of them, with a thick head of prematurely gray hair.  He grinned at the sight of Sean and Rouge, and stood up.

 

“Hey, Sean!  And this must be the roommate, Rouge…,” he glanced down at the sheet he was holding.  “Rouge Parker?”

 

Rouge nodded.  She had deliberated over the last name for hours, believing as she was taught in Fairy that names had strong influence over someone.  She eventually had chosen “Parker” because of its connotations of steadiness and normality.  Rouge figured she could use a little more of that in her life.

Pursing her lips, Casey frowned down at the girl, who still hadn’t noticed Casey’s presence.  She was focused entirely on her ankle – Casey supposed somehow it had gotten twisted, or at least bruised.  As Casey watched, the girl reached for her satchel and pulled a thin stick out of it and, pointing it at her ankle, muttered something Casey didn’t catch, and in a flash of sparkling light, a glowing ring appeared around the girl’s ankle for a moment, then melded into the skin.  Casey gasped and, finally, the redhead on the floor looked up at her.

 

The girl yelped and tried to jump away from Casey, apparently forgetting about her ankle, which then caused her to roll awkwardly onto some books and yelp again.  At a complete loss, Casey responded with yelling back at her and holding the book up in a threatening gesture.

 

Silence dropped like a heavy curtain.  The girl stared at Casey, clutching the stick and pointing it vaguely in Casey’s direction.  Casey stared back, very aware of how little protection the book gave her, but since all the girl had was a stick, she felt it was a pretty even match.

 

The stand-off allowed Casey to get a better look at the intruder.  Her pointy chin was set at a defiant angle, which contrasted her dark blue eyes – she looked terrified and, in fact, like she was just on the verge of crying.  Slowly, Casey lowered the Norton Anthology and instead offered the girl a hand.  Maybe she was one of the many homeless in the city, who had somehow gotten into the room through the – Casey’s eyes flickered to the window – still securely locked and barred window.  No, she had no idea how the girl had gotten in, unless, of course, she was Sean’s latest fling that he hadn’t seen fit to warn his sister about, but she was relatively confident she could show the girl how to safely get out.

 

Clearly hesitant, the girl switched the hand which was holding the stick, and, with her now free hand, clasped Casey’s wrist.  Startled slightly by the odd gesture, Casey twisted her hand to reciprocate the motion and, bracing herself against the back of the couch, held the girl’s wrist and started pulling her up.  The girl’s blue eyes were now narrowed, although they still shined brightly with unshed tears, and as she stood carefully up, Casey saw that despite whatever that ring around her ankle had done, she was still clearly favoring the other leg.  They stood like that for at least a minute, each examining the other with only a limited amount of trust.

 

Finally, Casey spoke.  “Let’s get you into the kitchen, and I’ll look at that ankle, ‘kay?  And you can tell me who the heck you are.”  Her wrist still enclosed by the other girl’s strong grip, she tried to guide the girl around the couch toward the kitchen.

 

The girl narrowed her eyes and looked Casey over.  She didn’t nod or make any sign of understanding, but she allowed herself to be shown to the kitchen, stopping only to scoop up the bag.  Casey showed the girl into the kitchen and had her sit on one of the two chairs, gesturing for her to prop her ankle up on the other chair.  Again, the girl seemed unsure of Casey’s intentions, but after looking closely around the room – her gaze stopping curiously on such mundane objects as the toaster and a coat hanger haphazardly thrown by the door – she obeyed.  Her gaze became immediately suspicious when Casey pushed the girl’s gown (for that’s what it was, she realized.  A true, fancy ball gown.  It seemed to have endless layers of petticoats, frills and lace.  Finally, she found the girl’s ankle and, pulling off the thin slipper she was wearing and pushing down the surprisingly plain white sock, Casey frowned at the swollen ankle and moved to get some bandages.

 

As she wrapped the girl’s ankle up to the best of her ability, she talked.  “So, who are you?”  Looking up at the redhead, Casey nodded at the growing silence.  The girl looked like she was trying to understand; she was still holding the stick with a death grip, but her gaze was locked on Casey with deep attention.  “Well, I figure you’re either Sean’s latest girlfriend, although I think he would’ve told even me if he had bagged one of the exchange students up on campus, at least to warn me that there was going to be a beautiful little fairy in my living room that wouldn’t understand a single word I said – although, now that I think about it,” Casey frowned, adjusting the bandages, “You can’t be an exchange student and not understand any English.  They wouldn’t admit you.  So, that means you’re maybe a little crazy and you probably do understand me, but can’t let me know for fear I’ll trick you into telling me where you hid your gold.”  Sitting back on her heels, resting on the kitchen floor, and setting the girl’s foot gently back on the empty kitchen chair, Casey looked over at the girl again. 

 

The redhead had moved her stick so that its tip was digging gently into her throat, near her larynx.  She nodded in what Casey thought might’ve been an encouraging gesture; her blue eyes were still fastened on Casey.

 

Shivering slightly at the intensity of that look, Casey shrugged and stood up.  She went to the counter and started pointlessly fiddling and cleaning up in order to avoid the girl’s forceful look.  “I really hope you’re not crazy, though, and don’t start attacking me with that stick, since I still do not have any clue how you made that weird glowing thing.  Maybe it’s some sort of flashlight, but I don’t know, and I’m not sure I want to know.  Well, no, that’s not true.  I figure once Sean gets home,” she checked her watch, “Which should be kind of soon, he can help me figure this out.”  Casey turned to look at the girl again, just in time to catch the strange movement.

 

The girl had closed her eyes and, one hand still holding the stick to her throat, was mouthing odd words.  As Casey watched, her dark eyes widening in surprise, the girl started to speak aloud and, accompanying her words were dark, roiling clouds of red and purple.  The smoke dissipated quickly, the colors changing colors slowly, as the girl continued to speak.  At first, it was no language Casey had ever heard – filled with sibilants, growls and even something that sounded like a nasal purr, but then, when the smoke changed to a bright yellow, she began to pick up bits of words that she recognized as being Italian, Spanish and French – even an odd English word thrown in.  Nothing coherent, though, as far as Casey could understand.  She leaned toward the redhead, trying to listen, while at the same time completely distraught and confused.

 

The girl’s free hand clenched suddenly and she cried out.  The smoke changed to a calm blue in an instant, and she was speaking English.  Casey shrieked, jumping back and abruptly banging her hip against the counter top.  The girl wasn’t making any sense, but she had gone from this strange, other-worldly language to an English that was eerily accented exactly like Casey’s.  “Ridiculous spit cascade tree hothouse iron orange red lamp shiny square ran down other words I said read beauty--”  She broke off and stared over at Casey, lowering the stick from her throat.

“You.”  Casey didn’t know what to say.  She wanted this girl out of her house, she wanted to go back to her thesis, to forget that she had ever found the strange young woman in her living room.

 

The girl carefully laid down her stick on the table and ran her now empty hands over her face, rubbing her eyes.  She groaned.  Slowly, the girl looked up at Casey.  She opened her mouth, but it seemed like forever before she spoke.  Her voice was rough and scratchy.  For the first time, Casey realized how thin she was, how wasted.  She looked as if all the energy had been harshly sucked out of her.

 

“I am sorry for intruding.”

 

Before Casey could collect herself, she burst out, “Who are you?”  She clutched her countertop.

 

“I am a human,” the girl said, a small smile growing on her face.  “And I’m on Earth, aren’t I?”

 

Casey nodded, looking with growing worry at the other young woman.

 

“Really?  It worked, then.  Wow, Leshnakar --”  She stopped, mouthing and muttering the word again.  She grinned slightly, “That’s an odd one in this language, isn’t it?  Anyway.  I’m sorry for bursting in, I wasn’t sure where I was going to end up, I think maybe I’m exactly where I was before, but in a different world, you see?”  She rose her hands, so they were flat, one on top of another.  “Like an overlay.  Interesting, isn’t it, that a dense forest back there is … well.  A house, I guess.”

 

Casey stared.

 

“Thanks for the bandages, too,” the girl said, gesturing at her ankle.  “The spell should be fixing it up soon, but I’m sure the bandages don’t hurt the cause.”  She stood up, gingerly, and looked around the room again.  “Wow, I’m glad I didn’t take the first present.  This is working really well.”

 

Casey blinked.  “Who …”

 

The girl jumped and blushed; the growing pink of her skin clashed pleasantly with her dark red hair.  “I’m so sorry!  I’m Rouge!  Or, uh, I guess you could call me Adellemina Kin’ala’gerra, but that name is really horrendous.”  She laughed suddenly, “I can’t believe I can actually say that now and not worry about it getting back to the Duchess!”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about and I think I’d like you to get out of my house now,” Casey said, vaguely wondering if she could easily reach one of the kitchen knives.

 

It was the girl’s turn to stare at Casey this time, although she shook it off with a lot more ease than Casey.  “I’m sorry, this really is confusing, isn’t it?  I mean, I’m confused and I know how I got here.  Can we … I mean, if you really want, I’ll leave, but I don’t know anyone and you seem actually nice, and I’ll leave soon, but … if you want, I mean, I can tell you what’s happened.”  She smiled; Casey noticed absently that the girl was ridiculously pretty when she smiled.  “Be better to kick me out after you at least know where I came from, right?  Otherwise you’ll just wonder for the rest of your life.”  She backed up again and sat down on the chair. 

 

Slowly, Casey followed the girl’s – Rouge’s? – lead and sat across from her.  It’s not as if shoving the girl out would solve anything right away, anyway.  And this way, when Sean got home, maybe he could confirm Casey’s growing hope that this was all a ridiculous, strange prank being pulled on her.

 

The redhead started to explain.  She used her hands a lot when she spoke and was quite expressive, despite her turns of phrases sometimes sounding a little stilted.  Although Casey had noticed with a shiver earlier that Rouge’s voice sounded eerily like her own, as the other girl continued to talk, her own way of speaking came through.

 

Ten minutes in, after Rouge had introduced the persons of the Duchess, Leshnakar and Whitehoof, along with a few mentions of the other humans, Casey interrupted her.  “I don’t believe you.”

 

“What?  Why?”  Rouge stared at Casey, clearly at a complete loss.

Casey frowned.  “Fairies don’t exist.  Magic doesn’t exist.  Other than in stories, or Disney movies, it’s just … the world doesn’t work like that.”

 

“Not your world, I mean.. Our world, I guess.  Clearly.  Except for when fairies come here and mess things up, or people like me cross back over, I suppose.”  She grinned, gesturing at the stick still laying on the table.

 

“But you… Wait, let me think.  So you’re human.  Of course you are, I mean.  But you say you’ve been living in Fairy and then you left because a centaur offered you a way here, and …”

 

Rouge nodded encouragingly.

 

“And now what?  You’re just going to live here?  Even if this was true, what would you do here?  You don’t have a degree, I’m guessing, or any marketable skills – except for pulling a rabbit out of a hat, of course,” Casey drawled.  “What were you thinking of doing?”

 

Rouge sighed and shrugged, leaning back in the chair.  She fiddled absently with the ribbons on her dress sleeve.  “I’m not sure.  I was thinking of tracking down my family.  Magic is traditionally, what’s the word … hereditary, so maybe there’s a chance that magic does naturally exist here, and my family knows how to use it!  Or… I have a vague idea of seeing…”  She broke off and shook her head.  “I’ll know what do when it comes up.”  Rouge’s blue eyes sparkled.  “Here, let me explain.”  The girl finished explaining the situation to Casey, going over the gifts and the ritual, and even the odd sight of Paul and Whitehoof, before she was satisfied that she had told the other girl as much as she could.

 

Casey frowned at the table.  “I’m still not sure I believe you.”

 

“Well,” Rouge started, then stopped and returned Casey’s frown.  “I don’t even know your name!  How do I know this isn’t some trick of Leshnakar’s, ooh, I knew I shouldn’t’ve trusted him, especially after that blasted ritual.”

 

Casey held up her hands, stopping Rouge’s sudden angry flow of words.  “Woah, calm down!  I’m not in league with Lesh-whatever.  My name’s Casey.  I’m a student here.  You’re in…”  Casey sighed, realizing that by explaining details like this, she was almost buying into the girl’s fantastical story.  “You’re in Seattle, near the University of Washington.  This is my apartment.  Well, me and Sean’s,” she amended.

 

The redhead looked like she was going to ask another question, but as if called by his name, Sean burst through the door.  His eyes were shut tight, his arms thrown out, and his mouth wide as he struck a dramatic pose worthy of Broadway, and he shouted, loud enough to make Casey – who was expecting it – wince and Rouge – who wasn’t – scream, “Do not fear, ever be aware, the master of the house is here!”

 

Opening his dark eyes with surprise at Rouge’s scream, Casey’s brother – idiot brother, she mentally revised – blinked at the two.  “Who’re you?” he asked, dropping his messenger bag on the floor and shrugging out of his coat; he looked about ready to drop it next to its brother bag but, upon catching his sister’s glare, smoothly grabbed a coat hanger and hung it up in the closet by the front door.

 

“So you don’t know her, Sean?” Casey asked, determined to figure out where exactly the girl had come from.

 

Sean dumbly shook his head and stepped further into the kitchen, gently kicking his messenger bag before him.  “Nope.  Hi.”  He waved at Rouge.

 

The redhead had noticeably calmed down and let go of the stick she had hastily grabbed during Sean’s verbal barrage.  She weakly waved back at Sean.  “Hi.”

 

“So who are you?”  Sean asked again, resting his hands on his hips.  He smiled at her, seemingly unaware of the spiky mess his dark hair was in, or how his shirt hung crookedly off of his skinny frame.  Casey looked over her twin brother with a critical eye, noting yet again how ridiculously thin the boy was.  She wasn’t an unhealthy weight herself, but his looking borderline anorexic was enough to make her always self conscious about her own weight.  They looked like boy and girl versions of each other, she knew, except she was slightly, relatively heavier, and Casey could never get over that distinction.

 

Hesitantly, Rouge answered, one hand still laying casually by the stick.  “I’m Rouge.  It’s nice to meet you.”

 

Sean stuck out his hand at the girl and grinned.  “Sean!  Casey’s brother.”

Casey screamed and dropped the cake pan on the floor.  It was empty, but hot, and who the heck had put the cake pan in the oven and hadn’t told her because it was dumb to store things in the oven without telling the other person who lived with you because they might turn the oven on and then – “Hot!” she yelled, jigging around the kitchen.  Oh damn and now it was probably burning the linoleum – she grabbed an oven mitt and scooped up the pan and breathed a sigh of relief when the floor was unmarked.  Although, really, she noticed now that it hadn’t been as hot as she thought – she had just been surprised, really.  But, still.  It was the thought that counted and the thoughts that had been screaming madly in her head was that she had burned her hand to the bone.  Her brother was going to hear about this.

 

Setting the cake pan down on the counter, Casey put the frozen pizza in the oven and set the timer.  She leaned against the fridge, closing her eyes.  What a day.  And it wasn’t over yet, that was for certain.  It was only six in the evening, but she had to finish hammering out the outline for her thesis, or else she’d be ridiculously behind schedule.  Counting off the tasks on her fingers, Casey went through her mental to-do list.  Thesis outline, read the last third of Frankenstein again, go to the store for milk – or call Sean and ask him to stop by Albertsons on his way home from work – and then, finally, go over her résumé and prepare the envelopes and cover letters to send out tomorrow.  Rubbing her eyes, Casey nodded and moved to the little closet she called her study.

 

Closing the wicker door behind her, the young woman squeezed into the computer chair and stretched out as far as the limited space would let her, before moving to turn on the ramshackle monitor.  Pausing before she hit the on button, Casey examined her slightly distorted reflection in the black convex screen.  Her dark hair was pulled off of her face in a messy ponytail, revealing a sharp chin and cheekbones.  Her eyes were already so dark they were almost black, so in the monitor’s reflection she smirked at the abyss pools that were her eyes.  Casey made a face at her reflection, sticking out her pierced tongue at the screen, and turned it on.  It flashed for a few seconds before fixing itself at the slightly off-green resolution she had gotten used to over the past few years.  Casey opened up the document holding her thesis outline and started to brutally redraft the details, mentally recalling the pointers her advisor had given her earlier that day.

 

The girl was halfway through the second page when a barrage of noise interrupted her.  First, the beeping of the oven, indicating the pizza was done.  Five loud thumps followed right after, accompanied by a ear-popping bang.  Then, high-pitched shriek and a final crash. 

Casey stiffened and cracked open the flimsy wicker door separating her from the rest of the tiny apartment she and her brother called home.  The wall mocked her; Casey frowned, realizing her view was severely limited by the odd layout of the place.  She grabbed a heavy book and held it in front of herself as some sort of defense, and walked out to the kitchen.

 

No one was in the kitchen.  She turned off the oven, pulled the pizza out and paused to stick a pepperoni in her mouth, then went to investigate the main room, where Casey thought the sounds had come from.  Poking her head around the corner, she was half-aware of how insane she must’ve looked: a messy headed, sleep deprived, wide eyed college student wielding – what was it? – the Norton’s Anthology of Classic Greek Literature. 

 

Scanning the room, Casey cursed Sean mentally, since it was impossible to tell what, if anything, had fallen because of the general mess in the room.  The rundown, green plaid couch they had picked up at a garage sale was virtually covered in clothes, movies and – she had to take responsibility for some of the mess – books.  The bookshelves themselves were filled with so many books (textbooks, novels, journals and sketchpads) that the three feet or so surrounding each of the three six shelf cases were basically extensions of the furniture themselves.  The two coffee tables, Casey realized with a scowl, were more covered with take-out containers and empty beer cans than anything else: disgusting.  The girl started to relax as she came more fully around the corner, thinking she had imagined the human shriek (or else it came from next door, or downstairs) and that the banging had just been more of the avalanche that was the room.

 

Then she heard the groan and muffled words.  “Baise, quello daño!”

 

It came from behind the sofa.  Casey clutched her book and tread carefully and reluctantly over.  It was a girl, that much she was sure of.  But how did she get in here?  Was she – Casey grimaced, not wanting to think that Sean had brought her in here and left the girl without telling his sister.  She didn’t want to deal with her brother’s dalliances, especially if the girl didn’t even speak English.  She peered over the edge of the couch and her jaw dropped in confusion.

 

The girl was sprawled on the floor, rubbing her ankle, her pretty face frowning in extreme consternation.  Dark red hair was piled on the top on the top of her head, loose curls framing her face.  She was wearing an ornate green linen gown, covered with ribbon, lace and corseting.  Casey was relatively sure the satchel at her side wasn’t Sean’s, which meant it was the girl’s.

Leshnakar looked up and nodded at the human, his expression serious, yet his eyes sparkling with something Rouge couldn’t identify.  “A worthy choice, Adellemina,” he said.  “One that will certainly streamline the process, as well, since the transfer of your debt can be made to help power the portal.”  He bent again to the circle, drawing a few runes with his hoof and nodded again.  “There.  Come here, child, and stand in the inner circle with your name in it.”  Rouge carefully stepped over the outer lines and diagrams and stood where the centaur pointed.  “Good.  Now, I trust your mentors have at least seen fit to teach you to channel power into a spell, yes?”

 

Rouge nodded and looked over the specifics of the runes surrounding her.  “So I channel the power into… what, this area?”  She pointed, leaning over.

 

“Ah, careful!”  The centaur growled, knocking her back into the inner circle.  “You’ll mess with the specifics and end up a three-legged spleen in a whole other dimension!”  Leshnakar glared at Rouge.  “Be more aware of your surroundings, child, or you will not last long on Earth.”

 

Pulling in on herself, Rouge looked at Leshnakar with wide eyes.  “I didn’t!  I was just making sure, so I …”

 

Leshnakar frowned and shook his head.  “Yes.  Channel your power into the triangular vortex spell component.  I’ll tell you when.  You’ll feel a burning in your chest as the payment for the gift transfers out of you and into the box.  Accordingly, when you are transferred to Earth, you’ll naturally find yourself paired with the gift’s…” he paused, as if looking for words.  “The gift’s physical expression will manifest when you first need it on Earth.  Does that make sense?”  The centaur raised an eyebrow at her and Rouge nodded quickly in response.

 

“Good.  Let’s start.”

 

Sheets of green magic poured up out of the lines in the dirt, creating a barrier almost six feet tall around Rouge.  The four concentric circles pulsed with energy, and through the translucent green the girl could see Leshnakar concentrating.  He had closed his eyes and he was grimacing, while making complex, certain swishing motions with his thin wand.  Rouge started to concentrate herself, knowing that the centaur’s magic would soon forcibly involve her.  She had no time to doubt her decision or wonder about binding herself so closely to Leshnakar.

 

Once the centaur started the ritual, the power flowed out of Rouge faster than she could think.  She rocked back on her heels once or twice, almost stepping out of the inner circle the centaur had placed her in.  Rouge closed her eyes, dropping her pack by her feet, and held her head in her hands.  She groaned, trying to keep her concentration steady.  Energy was being pulled out of her and she could not even begin to stop Leshnakar’s magnetic pull.  Her chest started to constrict and her eyes watered.  Rouge felt as if she couldn’t breathe and, she noticed with odd acceptance, that it felt as if her heart was burning within her.  The pain was halved between her chest and her mind, tearing away her ability to love another.  The girl gasped, clutching her head harder.  Memories flashed over her inner eye and although the centaur’s magic didn’t pull away any tender feelings she had had in the past, she recognized with a cry that she would never be able to continue or develop any of those emotions, whether they be the child’s love she had held for the Duchess, or the small crush she had once cultivated for Gaiberry.  Rouge started to cry and tried to tell Leshnakar to stop, she didn’t want to go through with it, she wanted to be able to love, even if it meant she was stuck in Fairy forever.  She found herself unable to speak, though, as even more energy was pulled from her.

 

When Rouge felt she was about to collapse from the pain and empty feeling growing within her chest, the magic abruptly dissipated and, in the center of the circle, an odd, blurry window opened.  She tried to focus her attention on it, wiping her wet cheeks and rubbing her blue eyes, but all Rouge could think about was how much she hurt and how desperately she wanted to sleep.  The centaur hadn’t been joking when he said she would be the main source of power for the large-scale spell.  Leshnakar was wiping his hands off, leaving smears of a strange blue red on the rag he was holding.  He looked pleased.  Forcing herself to stand upright, Rouge looked again at the window. 

 

It was roughly two feet by three feet, and hovered at about Rouge’s waist height.  It was literally a rip in the universe and, supposedly, a direct link to Earth.  Shivering as she narrowed her eyes and tried to look through to what was on the other side, Rouge hoped that Earth looked different from what she saw.  The view was distorted, with no straight edges or corners; any time she tried to focus on something, it blended away into the background or disappeared altogether.  It was a sickening view, especially combined with how weak she felt already. 

 

Finally, she turned away and faced the centaur again. “Is … is that all?”

 

Leshnakar grinned and nodded.  “Yes.  The window is clearly open and you’ve done more than enough to assist in the ritual,” he leered.  Rouge furrowed her brow, but couldn’t reply, as he continued, “You just need to take this.”  He held out one of the small packages that had supposedly held the gifts she was offered before.  “You don’t need to do anything with it to activate it, except bring it with you.  As I said, once you need it, it will be there.” 

 

Rouge nodded and took the box.  She bent down, picked up her sack, and carefully stashed the blue package in it.  “What will the …”  Rouge frowned and pointed at the window. “What will it be like?”

 

“Going to Earth?”  Leshnakar shrugged.  “I’ve never done it.  It can’t be that bad, though.  Never gotten any complaints.”

 

Perhaps because they’ve died on the way, a little voice in Rouge’s head worried.  Rouge swallowed.  No good thinking like that.  She turned to face the curiously twisting portal.  “Alright,” she said, her voice sounding surprisingly strong to her ears.  Her chest still burned, her mind still screamed at the loss of her emotions, but at least there was no fear.  She closed her eyes and stepped into the window.

 

Her last thought in Fairy, as she saw Whitehoof and Paul gallop into the grove, was, I’ve never known a unicorn to let a man ride them – and then she was gone.

 

--

Leshnakar held up a hand.  “You need not devote yourself to anything right now, lovely Adellemina.  I will come here, to this grove, for the next three days at this time.  You have until the third day to decide, but if you do not return by then, I will assume you are content with your lifeless life here at the Ala’gerra Court.”  He bowed again and winked at Whitehoof, who bristled at the gesture.  Before Rouge could say anything, the dark centaur melded into the forest around the grove and was gone.

 

Rouge stared at the forest in confusion.  Her mind was screaming at her to not trust the centaur, in any way, but it was also more than a little curious about what kind of life she could make for herself back on Earth.  Objectively, she knew Leshnakar was right in that her life as she knew it here at Ala’gerra was coming to an end; she was simply getting too old and unless she decided to completely stop ageing, like some humans did, she would soon stand out like the redheaded stepchild she technically was.

 

Whitehoof nudged Rouge’s shoulder with his wet nose.  “Rouuuge, what are you goooing to doooo?” he asked plaintively.

 

She shook her head, leaning down to pick up her scrolls and bag.  “I have no idea.  I need to think.”

 

“You caaan’t truuust him.  You knooow that, riiight?”

 

“I know he was right about my situation here.  I also know that he has his own reasons to give me any such an offer, but… it might be worth it,” Rouge mused, shouldering her bag and looking thoughtfully at the spot Leshnakar had disappeared into.

 

Whitehoof whinnied mournfully and followed after the human as she started to make her way out of the forest.  He tried to convince her to not give the centaur another thought, but the human found herself more likely to dismiss the unicorn’s worries; it was a smarter move, she thought, to at least consider Leshnakar’s offer and fully weigh the pros and cons of taking him up on it.  Dismissing the centaur out of hand would bring nothing but regrets later down the road.  She had to at least seriously think about this.

 

The unicorn trotted along beside the girl up until they reached the edge of the forest.  When Whitehoof stopped, Rouge paused by him, letting him finish his last whine.  “Aaall of his giiifts had cleaaar draaaawbacks.  What makes you thiiink there aaren’t aaaaany hidden ones as weeell?”

 

“I’ll think about it,” Rouge promised.  “I’m not going to make any rash decisions, one way or another.”  She patted his nose and scratched behind his ears, causing the unicorn’s eyes to go a little misty.  “See you later, Whitehoof.”  The unicorn nodded, but stood and watched her go instead of retreating into the forest.

 

Around twenty feet from the forest’s edge, Rouge was bombarded by a flying missile and she went down, heavily, onto the dry grass.  “Oof!”  Rubbing her head and wincing, Rouge glared around herself.  “What in the …”  She saw a small rubber ball by her side and, picking it up, Rouge started to sit up herself.

 

A large hand appeared in her line of vision and, frowning, Rouge took it and allowed herself to be pulled up.  Connected to the hand was a bare, muscled arm attached to an equally bare torso, topped by a grinning, blond head.  Rouge sighed.  “Hello, Paul.  Is this yours, then?”  She held up the ball with her free hand. 

 

“Sorry, Rouge!  Didn’t mean to hit you.  Didn’t realize you were even over here.”  Paul didn’t let go of her hand and smiled cheerfully at her.  “You want to join me?  I was going to switch to sword training soon.”  His green eyes softened with memory.  “You always beat me so badly back in the day.  I had bruises for a week after that last duel.”

 

Trying to tug her hand away, Rouge shook her head.  “I can’t, Paul.  I need to go back to my studying.  I haven’t--”

 

“Rouge!  You never spend any time with us anymore.  With me.”  Paul frowned, scanning the girl’s features.  Rouge blushed under the close look and tried again to take her hand from the man’s grip.  Paul had always been a little too interested in her for her taste, and lately – “At least come and help me polish my sword,” he suggested.  “It’s too long for me to do it myself – the tip always gets dusty while I’m doing the handle, and then vice versa.”

 

Rouge managed to get her hand back and blushed at the swordsman’s unintentional innuendo.  “Paul…”

 

Sighing, Paul accepted the offered rubber ball and ran his other hand through his shaggy blond hair.  “Rouge, you study too much.  You need me around to make sure you don’t get too serious,” he grinned, pinching her cheek.  “You gotta accept me, girl.  You and me, we’re just about all sorts of perfect for each other.”  Bending suddenly down on one knee, he pulled Rouge onto his leg and wrapped his thick arms around her waist.  “You, the cunning and bright young witch, and me, the powerful and handsome warrior.  Now, come on.  Help me polish my sword.”

 

Widening her eyes and squeaking at the sudden gesture, Rouge wasn’t so sure now that the innuendo was so unintentional.  What had gotten into the boy?  He had always, yes, flirted but never so openly, so directly!  Rouge pushed him away and brushed her skirt down, to hide her angry blush.  “Paul, you can either polish your own sword, or get Flan to help you.  Lord knows I’ve never been that interested in your weaponry.”  She frowned at him, then her frown deepened even more when he grinned in response.  “I’ve much more important things to think about.”

 

Tossing the ball from one hand to the other, Paul laughed.  “Nothing’s more important than my sword, Rouge!  Your studies can wait another hour or so.”

 

Rouge stared at the tall blond man, unsure of what exactly to say to convince him that she had absolutely no interest in him.  He was so stubborn, though, and over the past few years had become more and more annoying because of it.  At last, she just turned away and started walking toward the building she and the other girls lived in. 

 

Behind her, she heard Paul shout, “Aw, come on, Rouge!  I was only kidding!”

 

When she reached the building another thirty feet off, Rouge paused and looked back at the man.  To her surprise, he wasn’t following her or even looking in her direction.  In fact, it looked as if Whitehoof had pulled Paul away and they were both standing near to the forest, deep in conversation.  Unicorns usually went out of their way to avoid talking to human or elf males, so she narrowed her eyes thoughtfully at the two of them for a second.  Whitehoof and Paul pulled deeper into the forest, though, and were out of her sight.  Rouge shrugged and turned into the building, her mind already returning to the problem of the centaur’s offer.

 

Unfortunately, her night and, in fact, next two days, were filled to the brim with unexpected pageantry and a sudden increase in her studies.  The Duchess had evidently proclaimed the upcoming week to be one of prolonged feasts and festivities in celebration of her newest human children, a set of  lovely Middle Eastern twins.  The Duchess specifically asked Rouge to perform a piece of celebratory and elaborate magic, so Rouge consequently found herself locked up in small workrooms for hours on end with Trimble, perfecting every minor detail.

 

Midday on the third day after Leshnakar’s proposal, Rouge found herself with a small break in her schedule.  She had eaten the noontime meal in half the time allotted her and, as she leaned against a handy tree on the grounds of Ala’gerra, Rouge closed her eyes and almost decided to take a short nap before her next grueling session with Trimble.  Wearily, the girl thought of how carefree life had been just a week ago, before the Duchess’s spontaneous decision, before Paul’s advances had become even more serious, before –

 

Rouge’s deep blue eyes flew open and she looked at the forest.  Gods, with the sudden craziness of the past few days, she had actually forgotten about her strange conversation with the centaur.  It was the third day, she realized with a shock as she straightened up and away from the tree.  She had to decide now, the girl realized, if she ever wanted to go back to Earth and try for a life there.  Even as her thoughts raced in circles, even as she worried about how she could possibly make such an important decision in less than a few hours – for it was almost the time when she had first met Leshnakar in the forest and, thus, the time he would be there, waiting – she started to walk briskly toward the elegant building she and the other girls lived in.  Mentally she listed out what she would need to bring and if she could fit everything in her pack, or would she have to borrow an extra satchel from Flan – borrow, when she didn’t know if she’d ever return to Fairy? 

 

Rouge froze, her hand an inch from the doorknob to her room in the dormitory building.  She was thinking about what to pack.  She was considering how much food to bring, how much water.  She was worrying about how she would get along with other humans in large doses.  She was… She had already decided, Rouge realized.  Slowly, she opened the door to her room and looked around the relatively empty room with wide eyes.  She was leaving.  There had never been any question of it, not really.  Once she consciously realized that, though, Rouge had to fight to keep from crying.  She busied herself by packing up some practical clothes, ones that would serve her in all weathers, along with some essential magical supplies – her wand, her workbook with her diagrams and figures in it, and a few choice reagents.  Rouge spent the next twenty minutes rushing around the room and running to the kitchens, claiming she needed an abundance of food for a few hours of intensive study.

 

Finally, the girl stood on the edge of the forest, looking down the path that would lead her to the grove, where Leshnakar waited.  She turned around and faced Ala’gerra for what she thought was probably the last time.  Looking over the wide expanse of land, she frowned, knowing that it hadn’t quite hit her yet that she was leaving Fairy and would most likely never be back.  She was about to change her life in unimaginable ways.  Taking a deep breath, Rouge closed her eyes and, turning around, walked into the forest.

 

Leshnakar was waiting in the grove.  He was writing something when she walked up, but as soon as the centaur saw the human, he vanished the paper with a snap of his fingers.  Smiling widely, he said, “Ah, just as the time was ticking away, you arrive.  How beautifully poetic.  Have you made your decision then, m’lady?”

 

Rouge resisted the temptation to glance around the grove and take in the sights of her longtime study area once more.  “Aye.  I’d like to take you up on your offer of going to Earth.”

 

He grinned.  “Perfect.  I shall start working on the portal circle.”  The centaur nodded at her and trotted a little distance away, where he began marking a rough circle with his hooves.  Rouge watched, nerves and anxiety slowing flooding her mind.  Leshnakar continued, “Have you also decided which, if any, of the gifts you will take?  I believe they could be of particular use to you.”

 

Rouge blinked, looking at the centaur with surprise.  Another thing she hadn’t had the opportunity to think about!  “Ah… Yes, I’ve decided,” she said, not wanting to let Leshnakar know of how easily she had forgotten the details of this arrangement.  Her mind raced. 

 

Which of the gifts would be the most useful, when balanced out with what she would lose?  She wasn’t honestly worried about the language barrier, at least not too much, because although she wasn’t going to tell Leshnakar, she knew the basics of a spell she believed she could modify to give her the same results as the first present.  The second gift, that of context… Rouge knew she couldn’t even consider it; losing her memories of Fairy was too horrible a concept to think about.  Her chest was already starting to constrict at the idea of leaving the land of Ala’gerra.  To know she was about to completely forget about it was unbearable.  The third, though – part of Rouge was turned off by the idea of losing her ability to love, she had lived almost thirty years without feeling anything close to romantic love for anyone, including taking twice the normal time to develop through those notoriously hormonal years.  To lose something she had never known, in order to gain a sense of confidence that would propel her through her time on Earth?  Rouge nodded.  That would be worth it.

 

“I’ll take the third gift,” she said, moving forward to stand closer to Leshnakar.  He grinned at the dirt and Rouge followed his gaze.  While she had been thinking, the centaur had finished the circle.  It was rough, but detailed enough that Rouge could see the basics of a summoning and portal spell combined into one, with some additional elements she didn’t recognize.

Registering that look of conscious amusement, Rouge straightened up and tried to ignore her own growing blush.  She repeated the unicorn’s question, realizing belatedly just how strang this situation truly was.  “What do you want?”

 

The centaur languidly crossed his arms over his bare chest and smiled in a friendly manner; Rouge noticed the expression didn’t reach his eyes, though, which looked over the girl and unicorn critically.  “How ironic that you would demand a response to such a question, m’dear,” the centaur virtually purred.  He took another two steps toward Rouge.  “When, in fact, I came here to inquire that exact thing of you!”  He widened his eyes, his bushy eyebrows raising comically.

 

He seemed to be waiting for a response, but before Rouge could formulate a reasonable reply, the unicorn spoke up, nonchalantly stepping in front of Rouge.  “Yoouuu have noo business here, centaaaur, let aloooone aaasking impertineent questiooons of the Duchess’s owwwwn—”

 

“The Duchess’s own what, unicorn?”  The centaur’s eyes flashed for a brief moment as he looked down at the unicorn, then just as quickly melded back into a friendly façade.  “Own little mageling?  Own pet witch?  For, sweet Adellemina, called Rouge,” he faced her again, quirking one eyebrow in an invitingly roguish look, “That is what you are to her.  Nothing more than an amusement.  A brief blip of fancy in her long, long life.  The little human that thought she could be a witch – hah!”  The centaur laughed, and while he was clearly mocking her, the open and friendly tone of his enjoyment was not hurtful.  Rouge stepped around the unicorn and looked curiously at the centaur.  Noticing her movement, the centaur chuckled briefly and said, “I see this is not a revelation to you.  Not to one as bright and filled with potential magic as you are.  No, you are well aware that despite how kind the Duchess is to you, you are and will always be nothing more than a play toy for her.”

 

Rouge frowned, still holding her wand tightly.  Of course she had subconsciously been aware of how short her life was in comparison to the Duchess and the other elves and how, therefore, the Duchess’s boast of making Rouge into the most powerful witch in the world, while possible in the short term, it wasn’t as if Rouge would always be alive to defend her title.  No matter how the Duchess played with time, eventually Rouge would die and the Duchess would forget about her and move onto her next prize human.  Rouge’s eyes stung as these ideas were pushed to the forefront of her mind. 

 

“What’s your point, centaur?”

 

“I think that can wait, actually!”  Tipping an invisible hat, the centaur bowed deeply at his waist, his front legs bending so as to create an odd curtsey-bow effect.  Raising his eyes, he reached out for Rouge’s free hand – she hadn’t realized how close he was to her! – and swiftly raised it to his lips.  Murmuring into the back of her hand, he said, “First, let me not forget my manners, lady.  I am Leshnakar, at your service.  I am more than pleased to meet you and I hope that through our acquaintance, you will look back at this day with equal pleasure.”  He winked one dark eye and let go of her hand.

 

Bewildered, Rouge found herself automatically resorting to the Court manners that had been drilled into her.  She dipped into a curtsey, despite her skirt being only knee-length and her feet being unclad, bowed her head and replied, “The pleasure is mine, sir Leshnakar.  I am called Adellemina Kin’ala’gerra.”

 

Not to be forgotten, the unicorn whipped his head so as to create a flutter of wind through his mane and interjected, “Leshnakar, yooouuu can call mee Whitehooooof.”

 

“If there is ever such a circumstance where I find myself in need for a fool such as yourself, sir Whitehoof, I will do this,” Leshnakar replied smoothly, looking not at all perturbed by the knife-sharp horn still pointed in his general direction.  He winked at Rouge, who only barely noticed the gesture.

 

Rouge was surprised to hear the unicorn’s name, although she was aware that this was probably simply a pseudonym he had thought up for the occasion.  It was rare for magical creatures such as unicorns to give their true names freely, and his word choice in his introduction led her to believe that this was not the exception to the rule.  She herself had taken care to introduce herself to the centaur using her Court name which, despite being given it eight years ago and despite being called it regularly by the elves and fairies of the Court, she still did not feel connected to in the least.  Leshnakar, on the other hand, had simply said that he was Leshnakar – an interesting fact to file away.

 

“Now that we have all been properly introduced,” Leshnakar smirked at the unicorn, but when he turned toward Rouge his smarmy expression melded easily into one of pure interested kindness, “I would like to propose something to you, Miss Adellemina.”

 

Rouge noted with satisfaction that he had followed her lead in what to call her; she knew the possibilities of magic tied into names and was not foolish enough to be tricked into something by this centaur simply because of a twist of her name.  “What’s that?”

 

“As I said, dear, we are both too, too aware of the painful situation you are in here in Ala’gerra,” he purred.  “Such amazing potential roiling about in your young, nubile body, looking for an … escape.”  Rouge shivered under his intense look.  She glanced away, then tried to look back at him and match his gaze.  “The Duchess was right when she said you could potentially be the greatest witch that Fairy has ever known.  You’ve the capability, the aptitude, the promise.  Your … budding power grows and swells.”

 

“Get to the pooooint!” Whitehoof positively growled.  If even the unicorn was getting fed up with the centaur’s overly sexual language, Rouge thought even as she blushed, that was saying something.

 

Chuckling again, Leshnakar nodded and said, “Of course, I wouldn’t want to embarrass you, sir unicorn.  I believe, Lady Adellemina, that you are becoming more and more aware of how little you fit into Fairy, because of your choice to study magic and set yourself apart not only from the other humans adopted by the Duchess, but from the Court itself.”  He waved one flippant hand, “Of course, as you age you would have found yourself being less and less a part of the Court anyway, as I’m sure you know.”

 

Rouge narrowed her eyes, not quite understanding what the centaur was referring to.  Before she could speak, though, she realized that, actually, as he said, it was remarkably rare to see any humans much older than she, at least in Court and particularly anywhere near the Duchess.  The Duchess liked children and Rouge was becoming less and less a part of that certain demographic, as Leshnakar’s leers couldn’t help but remind her.  What would happen to her once she grew irrevocably past the point where the Duchess found any amusement in her?

 

“I have come here, today, Miss Adellemina, to give you another choice.  You could stay here, in Ala’gerra, where you will certainly be eclipsed by another adoptive mageling or Court fairy, as you grow older and older until the Duchess wants nothing more to do with you – which, I would think, would stop any training indefinitely!”  He frowned comically, seeming to think over the travesties of such a scenario.  Suddenly, Leshnakar leaned toward Rouge and grinned at her, “Or!  You can take my offer.”

 

“I’ve no reason to trust any offer you give me,” Rouge stated, bolstered by the huffing nod Whitehoof gave in support.  “But tell me what it is.”  Whitehoof snorted with surprise and looked like he was about to speak, but Leshnakar’s laugh drowned him out.

 

“No reason to trust me!  Wait to so sincerely deny any chance of happiness, my dear, until you’ve heard the proposal, won’t you?”

 

He seemed to be waiting for something, so Rouge nodded sullenly.

 

“My thanks, dear.  My offer is simple, although there are smaller choices to make once you have decided to take me up on it.  The general thrust of it, though, is that I will open a portal back to Earth for you.”  He smiled beatifically at her, his beetle black eyes shining with a glee that Rouge could not detect the source of.

 

“Earth?” she responded dumbly.

 

Leshnakar nodded, “Your birthplace!  I’m sure you’ve heard of it, dumpling.  A big globe, seven continents, filled with humans of all shapes and sizes and intelligences and languages and interests.  And, best of all, not a one of them knows magic.  Well, maybe some of the dead ones, but unless the Duchess is seeing fit to teach you necromantic magic, I don’t think they’ll be much of a threat!”

 

“A… a threat?  What?”  Rouge’s mind raced.  Earth?  He was giving her a way to go back to Earth?  Why would she, what would she do, where would … Rouge shook her head, narrowing her blue eyes with confusion.  “What would I do on Earth?”

“Why, live there, of course!  Peacefully, a life filled with joy and love and power!  Oh, however much power you wanted, I promise you it would be easily attained.  Magic is commonplace here, child, here on Fairy.  It impresses no one and, instead, is a simple necessity.  On Earth, though!  Oh, the possibilities!”  Leshnakar flung his arms wide and smiled widely at the human.  “You could conjure however much money you desired, you could control the minds of the Presidents, the CEOs, the Prime Ministers!  You could sink a country, raise Atlantis, or even create your own paradise island from scratch.  And, my dear, no one could stop you.  They have no defense against magic there: the world would be yours, and everything in it.”

 

Rouge didn’t know what to say.  She barely listened to the centaur’s rambling; at least on the preliminary level, she wasn’t interested in taking over any world, let alone one she hadn’t seen since she was less than a year old.  But Leshnakar was right about one thing: she wasn’t happy here on Fairy and she knew her way of life was fleeting.  He had made good points about the uncertainty of her position, both as a young witch and as a young human in the Court.  On Earth, though, she could use her magic to secure herself a safe position in life.  She could connect herself to one of the lords or ladies of a powerful kingdom – if they didn’t have magic there, at all, she could make herself unbelievably useful to some important figure.

 

This was … this was promising.  And it wasn’t as if she hadn’t dreamed about her home world ever since she was a young girl.  One of the older humans – who, Rouge suddenly realized in a flash of worry, she hadn’t seen in several months – hadn’t come to Fairy until she was six or seven, and she had enthralled the other humans with stories of the complicated cultures that made up Earth.  Earth.  Narrowing her eyes, Rouge looked up at Leshnakar, who smiled back at her.

 

“What’s the catch?” she asked.

 

Leshnakar covered his mouth with his hand, looking dismayed.  “A catch!  Lady, I only wish to provide you an option for bettering your own life!  If you take me up on this, you will, of course, have to help me in opening the portal, as you can control more raw energy at one time than I can,” he bowed demurely to her.  “But other than that, I will simply usher you through to your new life and.. that’s all.” 

 

Whitehoof snorted.  “I dooo not truuuust you, Leshnaakar.”

 

“It is not you who must decide if I am worth trusting.  I leave that up to our darling human mistress.”

 

Rouge glanced at the unicorn.  His soft white ears were pricked up and he looked remarkably tense.  She laid a comforting hand on his flank again, causing Whitehoof to look back at her.  “Don’t worry, Whitehoof.  I’m not making a decision yet.”

 

“Good, because I’m not done proposing!”  Leshnakar winked at her again.  “If you do decide to begin a new life back at your home, I have gifts for you that could help you in your journey.”  Rouge ran a hand through her thick red hair, watching the centaur carefully as he made a few quick and tight hand motions in the air.  Three small, light blue glowing packages appeared in midair.  They floated halfway in between the centaur and human.  He pointed to one at a time as he spoke. 

 

“I offer you these talents, each of which would give you invaluable knowledge on Earth.  This first package holds the gift of the Earth tongues.  I will transport you to the area of your choice – I would suggest close to your birthplace – and as soon as you arrive, you will know the language, so you can communicate.”  He pointed at the middle box.  “Inside this package, then, contains the power of context.  The moment you are transported onto Earth, you will have a job, a family and friends.  It will be as if you were always there – do you see?  Also, you will know how to use the technologies and follow the customs that humans have created.  For example, you will not scream at the sight of a car, and you will know how to use a telephone.”

 

Rouge furrowed her brow.  “A .. car?” she repeated.  “What is—“

 

“Ah-ah!” Leshnakar waggled a friendly finger.  “That’s what you’ll find out if you choose that gift.  Now, this last one…”  He smiled, gazing at the last floating box.  “This holds the magic of motivation.  Depending on what you discover when you arrive, and you decide you would like to find out, choosing this gift will provide you with an inner compass, if you will, a sort of conscience that will advise you the best way to go about achieving your goals.”

 

Rouge was silent, looking at the boxes.  This was too much, and it came too suddenly.  Trying to stall as her mind raced, she questioned, “Would the conscience that the third box gives.. Would it be a voice inside my head, or a type of sprite that only I could see?”

 

“Whichever you prefer, Lady Adellemina.”

 

She opened her mouth again, but Leshnakar continued.  “But!  Before you make any decision regarding your journey, or which tools you would like, let me tell you of the price for each of these.”  He smirked at Rouge’s confused expression, and explained, “Life provides nothing for free, my love.  You may take any number of the gifts, but each comes with a price.  The first, in exchange for understanding what is being said, you would lose your voice.”  As he spoke, the first box twirled and became a golden orange.  Rouge narrowed her eyes.  He continued, “In exchange for the second gift, of context, you would lose all memories of Fairy.”  The second box twirled into the orange color.  “And the third…”  Leshnakar stroked it, smiling softly at the package as it started to turn rapidly.  “In exchange for motivation, you will lose your ability to love.”

 

Rouge blinked.  She could understand, but not communicate.  Be at home on Earth, but lose her home at Fairy.  Know where to go and what to do, but not be able to connect with anyone on a deeper level.