The Magician’s Court

Chapter One

The Magician’s Court was held on the seventh day of the seventh month. In a vast
hall, that sat empty every other day of the year, hundreds of people gathered to hear the
fates of the accused. A majority of these were seated on the main floor, in a series of
long wooden benches. At the front of the room was a raised podium where thirteen
golden chairs arranged in a half-circle sat empty. On a smaller platform was a single
silver chair, etched with runic script, and contained within a silver cage.
At six-fifty, the low murmur of those in attendance began to soften until finally,
as a massive clock struck the hour, the entire room fell silent. Through a door
In the back, where those on trial were being held, a dozen guards entered the room. Each
was cloaked in scarlet, and each carried a sharp blade at his side. They took their places
around the room, and wordlessly everybody stood to attention as the door of the larger
platform folded inward.
Out walked another group of twelve, these cloaked in black and carrying large
and ancient looking books. They took their places to either side of the center chair. After
a long moment another man came into the room, after which the doors slid back after
him.
The Judge did not immediately take his chair. He walked to the front of the
platform and raised his hand, signaling the crowd to be seated. His name was Ignatius
Bane, and he was the most powerful magician in the world. He was perhaps forty years
old, though nobody knew for sure. His long silver hair was neatly bound, black eyes
glittering as he looked down on his people.
“I officially commence the one thousand and eighty third gathering of the
Magician’s Court. Today we will determine the fates of those charged with abusing the
gift of magic. Those found guilty will then be sentenced—to Removal, Exile, or Death,
however the judges see fit.”
At this several members of the crowd took anxious breaths. In the back room,
where the prisoners waited, the words of the Judge carried through the doors. Here, the
men and women weren’t silent. Few worried about Death—only the gravest crimes
merited the gravest punishment. But Removal was a cause of much dread—for a person
born with abilities beyond that of the common man, the idea of having them stripped
away was almost like losing an arm or a leg.
But worse still was the idea of Exile. The number of people who had ever seen the
Shadow Walks and returned could be counted on one hand. Though countless rumors
existed, the place was more myth than reality.
In the prisoner’s chamber there were many men and women, of all ages.
However, there was a strange feeling about the room now, as the youngest child to ever
sit within, on the lap of a young and pretty nanny rather than in the customary cuffs and
chains, was a girl of eight.
“It isn’t right,” the girl holding her whispered. The pair shared a long bench with
a row of people waiting for their trial. They were spooked by what she said, and for a
long while said nothing.
Finally an older woman, her skin ashen, nodded towards her. “What did she do?”
she asked.
 “Nothing. That’s the stupid thing,” said the nanny. She was reed-thin and, in
sharp contrast to the traditional costumes of the judges and guards, was wearing a school
uniform. She brushed a hand through the girl’s dark hair. “It’s what happened to her that
everybody is so worked up about. They say she was attacked by an Otherworld creature.”
Several people who were near enough to hear this gasped in surprise. The woman
looked set to ask another question when the door to the main chamber opened. A tall man
stood and disappeared through the door before it closed back on them. The nanny pulled
the girl tighter. “And why are you involved in this case, Lucinda?”
“Oh,” said the nanny. “My father was asked to care for her. To keep her safe.
Since we’ve gotten so close he thought I could keep her calm.”
“You’re a good girl,” said the woman. She smiled bitterly. “Your parents are good
people. You’ll be good to them, won’t you?”
Lucy’s eyes fell to the woman’s wrists, and the thick metal cuffs that circled
them. “I will,” she said. Though she hadn’t known the woman well, she had known her
for most of her life. The memory of it made her uneasy, and she was glad when the room
turned its attention on the tall man as he returned to the room, free of his chains and
declared innocent. A general cheer rose up for him, and he shook the hands of many as he
was escorted to the entry hall where he would meet his family.
The second trial began, with a weeping woman who couldn’t be older than thirty.
As she left the room Lucy felt the girl in her arms begin to stir. “Is it time yet?” she said
with a yawn.
“Not yet, Grace. We’re going last.”
The younger girl wrapped her arms around Lucy’s neck, cheek on her shoulder.
Now Lucy could glance down directly at her face, something that sent a tremor down her
spine every time. The pleasant roundness of youth, the light caramel color of her skin
and, where there should have been coffee brown eyes, unearthly gray spheres that acted
almost as a mirror to the outside world.
It was the mark of the attack the girl had endured, now almost eight months
before. Ordinary before the incident, the girl was now something more. What that
something was there was no way for anybody to tell. There had never been a case, as far
as anybody knew, of anybody surviving an attack by an Otherworlder. And it was
because of that the Court was, by the end of the day, going to decide whether or not she
should face Exile.
The woman who entered the courtroom did not return, and a third was called.
Lucy watched them all, going in succession, several returning with expressions of relief,
and more returning sick with the knowledge that they faced Removal. Around Midday
the woman she sat with entered the court for her trial. She did not return.
One by one the prisoners left, until as the day was creeping to a close only Lucy
and Grace were left in the room. Grace was wide awake but hadn’t said anything. It was
only when the guard came for her that the girl smiled and hugged her. “Goodbye,” she
said quietly before slipping away from her.
With cautious steps she made her way to the guard, who placed a hand on the
girl’s shoulder.
“Can I watch?” said Lucy tearfully. The man shook his head, and slipping through
the wide doors left her alone.
 The courtroom was almost empty now. No more than five people remained seated
in the visitor’s chairs. Grace was led through the center aisle and up to the podium.
“There’s a cage,” the guard whispered in a low voice. “Stay back while I open the door.
There’s a chair in the cage. That’s where you’ll be sitting.”
The girl nodded, but before he could lead her inside the Judge interrupted him.
“This is the one?” asked Ignatius, staring down at the girl.
“Yes, sir.”
“Excuse me, then. I would like to see her closer. Bring her here.”
The guards led her to the stairs that rose to the Judge’s bench, and as Grace found
the first step she cautiously climbed to the top of the stairs.
“I am right here. Please move toward me,” he said.
As the girl approached, Ignatius watched her closely. “You are completely
blind?” he asked, noting her halting steps. The girl nodded. He had known as much, from
previous reports. When she stood in front of him he reached out to take her by the hand.
He looked into her eyes, noting the clear reflection in the gray.
“Do you remember that night? What can you tell us?”
There was an audible shift of focus in the room, as everybody focused in on the
girl. “I was asleep. Mrs. Carter wasn’t home because Jennifer was sick, so I was alone
with Nick. He was mad at me.”
“Let the record show,” said the judge to Ignatius’s left, “that Nick Swift is
accused of initiating the attack.”
“He hasn’t been found?” asked Ignatius.
“There is no trace of him,” said the man.
“How did it begin?” asked Ignatius. He did not raise or lower his voice—he spoke
to her in exactly the same manner he used with every person that he questioned in his
courtroom
“I was almost asleep when I saw a shadow on the wall across from me. Then the
shadow turned into a monster.”
“An Otherworlder,” said another judge, a woman. “I have not heard whether the
creature was ever found.
“I can answer that.” The entire court turned to face an older man who now stood
on the floor below. “I’m the one who arrived after the attack. My daughter and I have
been taking care of her.”
“All right,” said Ignatius after a little consideration. “You may approach.”
He came up onto the bench, standing beside Grace.
“The creature was never found, Bane, but there is considerable proof of its
existence.”
“I have seen the evidence. Even if there weren’t any the girl’s condition is proof
enough of it. I would like to hear from the girl, though.” He turned his attention back to
Grace. “Tell me about the monster. What was its appearance?”
“It was big. As tall as the room, and it was black. He started whispering things to
me. He called himself the Metricant.”
At this there was a murmur of surprise. Even Ignatius rose up slightly from his
seat. “I hadn’t heard this,” he said. “The Metricant?”
“He told me his name. And he said that Nick had called him to come and take my
eyes.”
 There was another murmur then, this one much louder. “This was not a mindless
attack then,” said Ignatius. “We don’t know much about this situation. When
Otherworlders attack their victims they usually do not live. Nicholas Swift, the boy said
to have called him, has not been found?”
“No, sir,” said the man.
“Girl, did you know that your friend was gifted? That he had powers of magic?”
“Yes. He showed me,” said Grace.
“Hmm.” Ignatius looked at her for a long moment. “But you have never had
powers yourself. Not until the attack.”
Grace nodded.
“And you have been living with Mr. Brooks and his daughter since then? They
took you in by my order until the day of the trial. Has Mr. Brooks told you about magic?
About the powers you now have?”
“He told me about magic,” said Grace, “but what I can do isn’t magic.”
“And you understand that we are going to decide today whether or not you should
go to live in the Other World.”
It was not a question. Grace nodded.
Perhaps the people around her could not understand why it was that Grace was so
calm, but they would not have known or understood that Grace had been coming and
going, moving from place to place, from the time she was very young. She didn’t
remember her parents, and had only been told that they had both done very bad things.
For the past two years of her life she had lived in foster homes, and it was there that she
had met Nick. He was an orphan.
“I’m going.” Grace raised her face so that her eyes looked into his. “It’s what
everybody wants.”
“Is that so?” Ignatius reached out then, taking her by the hand. “You read minds,
girl? You see the future?”
Grace shook her head. “No,” she said. “But none of you like me being here. I feel
it.”
“Empathy,” pronounced Ignatius. He squeezed the girl’s hand. “What about me? I
am not afraid of you.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “You are. Very much.”
Ignatius exhaled sharply. “I think it is time we vote,” he said. “I remind you that
whatever decision this council makes is binding. There is no contestation and your fate
will be carried out immediately. Council, do you vote to send the child into Exile?”
One by one the council was asked to speak their vote, and one by one they voted
“Yea,” until only Ignatius was left to make his vote.
“I say Yea, also, but I wish to amend something to this ruling. The boy Nicholas
has not been found. I do not know if he will ever be found. If he is he faces permanent
Exile. Though the Shadow Walks have their own laws, they answer to the rulings of the
court. If in the Otherworld you are to meet Nicholas Swift, he will be answerable to the
fate that you choose for him. Graciela Mendoza, you are now sentenced to Exile.
One of the guards took Grace by the arm and led her to the side door of the
building. On the podium the Judges were exiting back through the door which they had
entered from that morning. The time was now seven in the evening—the Magician’s
Court was adjourned, not to meet again for another year.
 There was a long, sleek black car outside. Within there were over a dozen others
headed for Exile. “She can sit with me,” said one woman. Grace perked up. She couldn’t
see the woman, of course, but she knew her voice. She was the one that had sat near her
in the Prisoner’s Room.
Others may have assumed that Grace’s sightless world was dark, and full of
shadows. But they would have been wrong. For the young girl the world was a swirling
mass of silver clouds, clouds that pulsed and waned according to the mood of the people
around her. As she entered the car these clouds darkened, and she was only comforted by
the single ray of light she saw as the woman closed her fingers around the girl’s and
whispered, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.”
 Chapter Two

The lobby of the Marquis Hotel was large, busy, and dripping with an
undercurrent of money ordinary men only dreamed of. Dinner hour was coming to a
close and one by one men in dark suits and expensive dinner jackets, followed by women
in shimmering evening gowns and glittering jewels, migrated from the dining room to the
hotel bar. A small pocket of these were watching as an young illusionist, in a scuffed
leather jacket and scruffy brown hair, put out a lit cigarette on the tip of his tongue.
Had it not been for his face on a billboard over the most popular Casino in town,
the Marquis would have quietly asked the young man to leave. But his rising star, as well
as a handful of green bills discreetly passed to the hotel manager secured him a spot on
the floor, and as he began a second illusion a boy standing a little ways from the group
looked up. Straightening the sweater he was wearing he made his way over to the group,
just in time to watch the illusionist turn a lady’s tattoo into a shimmering blue butterfly
that fluttered dizzily across the room.. The group broke into spontaneous applause.
His smile gleamed, and he bowed his head curtly. The boy fought the urge to roll
his eyes, shoving his hands into his pockets. Remembering the charm on him, he kept his
shoulders straight back and his head up, determined to look the part of a well bred young
man of twenty.
“If I could ask you all to move back,” said the illusionist, putting his hands out to
either side. “I’d like to try something in here. It doesn’t always work because this sort of
illusion requires a great amount of concentration. Here…” He put one hand on the
shoulder of the man closest to him. The rest of the group began to spread out, widening
into an oblong circle. “Please maintain complete silence,” asked the magician.
There was a loud gasp. The boy stepped forward. The illusionists’ feet were
hovering several inches off of the ground.
“Do you see that? There’s no line? No strings?” whispered one of the men nearest
him. Several others were whispering and staring, and the audience remained rapt until his
feet touched ground again.
A cheer rose up again, this one the loudest and longest of any. The magician
bowed, and then looked out into the group. “Now, I would like a volunteer. Young man,
you,” he said.
The boy feigned surprise as the illusionist pointed at him. He raised his eyebrows
in alarm and then, slowly, stepped forward. “What’s your name?” the illusionist asked,
shaking his hand.
It was an act that the two of them had been over again and again. The boy smiled
cautiously. “Jeremy Crane,” he said.
“Enjoying Vegas? Having a wild night?” the illusionist insinuated. The boy
blushed red and the group laughed, a sound punctuated by gasps and murmurs of
excitement. “Well, I’ll tell you what Jeremy,” he said. “What if I make you disappear?”
“Uh…that sounds cool,” said the boy, grinning.
“Okay. Come over here toward me,” he said. The boy took his place next to the
illusionist, standing somewhat stiffly. “Now Jeremy, I want you to concentrate. I want
you to picture a black room, complete darkness…are you there?”
The boy nodded. Really he was thinking about the next step in their plan. Doing it
right was going to take a lot of careful maneuvering on his part.
 He felt the illusionist’s hand brush against his, leaving several thin pieces of
plastic behind. He palmed the item, and pretending to straighten the edge of his shirt
nervously slipped it into his pocket.
Keeping his eyes closed the boy concentrated. This was the only difficult
part of the entire operation, and both were determined to make it go off seamlessly. There
were several gasps from the group as the boy’s feet separated from the floor. This part
was not the boy’s action. It was the illusionist who, by a force of will, was keeping him
levitated.
The second part of the so-called illusion was entirely up to the boy. After several
moments he saw the man move in front of him. The boy dropped the first illusion and put
up a second. When the illusionist dropped his coat the crowd gasped. To them it appeared
that the boy had vanished into thin air. In reality, he was standing right where he had
been, albeit now cloaked by an illusion of invisibility.
He waited until the group began to walk away. The next hour or so of
misdirection was completely up to his mentor. He imagined that he would end up with
the large group at the bar, performing small tricks to keep them busy…and away from
their rooms.
As he took the elevator up to the third floor he caught a glimpse of himself in the
mirror. He’d already let the illusion drop and in the burnished silver of the doors he
looked at himself. He was a tall and skinny fifteen year old boy, with a beakish nose and
cropped dirty-blonde hair. His name was Nicholas Swift, though most people who met
him never knew it.
Pulling the room keys from his pocket, he let himself easily into the first room. It
was completely empty, and it took only a few moments for Nick to find the jewelry-box.
He pulled out several handfuls of gems and baubles, shoving them into his pockets. It
took less than a minute for him to exit and find the next room, and the next and the next.
By the time he reached the top floor he had taken thousands of dollars worth of jewels.
He dumped the entire handful of room keys in a potted plant and took the elevator
back down to the lobby. Checking his cell phone, he saw that his work had only taken
thirty minutes. A far cry from the two hours it had taken him the first time he’d tried it,
two years before. Experience had taught him the best way to work. His powers had
improved to the point that he could tell exactly which door each key belonged to.
No fumbling around like the year before, when he’d almost gotten himself caught.
He moved through the lobby, catching the illusionist’s eye as he came back by the
hotel bar. He waited for him to make his grand exit, bidding his audience goodbye, and
together the pair walked through the wide glass doors of the hotel. The illusionist handed
the valet a slip and after a few minutes he returned with a shining silver convertible.
“Good haul?” he asked as Nick slid into the passenger seat.
“Yeah.” He watched as the glamour on the illusionist slipped away. He suddenly
appeared younger, no older than eighteen. The stubble on his cheeks disappeared and his
hair was platinum blonde. He glanced over at Nick.
“Did anybody see you?”
Nick shook his head.
“Good.”
The older boy’s name was Solomon Burrows. The two had met when Nick was
nine years old, and the older boy (then thirteen) had taught Nick everything he needed to
know to make a living off the streets. Now they’d stepped up their game. As far as either
of them knew, the mythical Magician’s Court had never even heard that they were
abusing their magic. Nick and Solomon both meant to keep it that way.
They drove to a hotel across town and rode the elevator up to the penthouse and
were escorted in by two men in leather jackets.
“What have you got for me tonight, young men?” said an older woman in sequins
and furs, sitting at the center of a plush leather sofa.
“Plenty,” said Solomon. Nick stepped forward and began setting the jewelry out
on the table.
“Mmm…nothing remarkable,” she said after a long moment, “Though much of it
is quite valuable. Give my people an hour to assess its value. Why don’t I order you some
dinner?” she said.
“No thanks…” started Nick.
“Great, we’re starving,” interrupted Solomon. While one of the men sat at the
table scrutinizing the pile of jewels, a bellboy brought up a lavish dinner for three. The
lady sat down to eat with them. Nick scowled at the extravagant setting. The entire room
was thick with the scent of perfume, and he always felt out of place surrounded by things
that were more valuable than his life to the people around him.
He picked at a plate of something with a French sounding name, wishing instead
for a burger and fries. Solomon shrugged at him apologetically.
“Now boys,” said the lady, “we’ve been friends for a little while now. I have a
friend who could use your help.”
“We don’t do outside jobs,” answered Nick automatically. He felt Solomon kick
him in the ankle underneath the table, then smile at her.
“Sorry, but what Nick means to say is we have to be careful who we work for. Is
this friend somebody we know?”
The lady was quiet for a long moment, sipping at a glass of champagne. “Why,
yes…I believe you do. He is one of your kind, after all.”
Solomon couldn’t hide the look of surprise on his face. “Really? Just how many
of ‘our kind’ do you know?” he asked.
“I’m not here to discuss my knowledge of that,” she said. The stern look on her
face was an order for the boys to not ask any more questions.
Nick crossed his arms over his chest and backed away from the table. There was
something about the matter that he didn’t like. Although he and Solomon had been
selling their ‘merchandise’ to the woman ever since they began their scheme he had never
learned to trust her, and it was exactly because of this that he didn’t. Every so often she
would come up with a job that Solomon, afraid to lose her business, would be compelled
to accept.
Perhaps it was because of Solomon’s greed that he never knew how to say no, or
perhaps it was because Solomon didn’t have the price hanging over his head that
Nicholas did.
He had been eight when he accidentally summoned the creature that had blinded
Graciela Mendoza. Hardly even able to remember what had happened, he only knew that
what had happened had been serious enough to send men in great black cloaks to the
foster home where he was being kept.
 Even after so many years Nick didn’t know why exactly he had managed to
escape. He thought of the girl being carried away by the men, her eyes bandaged.
Somehow he’d been able to hold up a strong enough glamour of invisibility that a group
of fully grown magicians hadn’t even sensed that he was still there, crouching in the
shadows; waiting to run the moment he was able.
For a year he’d lived on the streets, begging, borrowing and stealing to survive.
And when he’d found Solomon performing his tricks on the street it was the first time in
his entirely life that he’d known somebody else that had magical powers.
It had been Solomon who first told him about the Magician’s Court. And
Solomon who first told him that he was the most wanted magician alive, under order of
immediate Exile if ever found.
Nick didn’t know much about the Otherworld. Of the handful of other magicians
he’d ever known, none did. Sometimes he wondered what would happen if he was ever
found, and pictured himself in a dark world full of dark monsters.
It was the last thing he wanted, though Solomon often forgot the threat that
hovered over his young friend’s head.
They finished their dinner at around the same time the appraiser finished his
work. He disappeared with the lady to the next room, and after several moments returned
with a large black briefcase.
“Thirty thousand,” the woman said.
Solomon immediately took the money. “I have given my ‘friend’ your number,”
she said before relinquishing it. “His name is Gray. I would suggest that you answer the
phone when he calls. He doesn’t like being disappointed,” she added, giving them a
predatorial smile.
The boys were out of the hotel before Nick finally blew up at Solomon. “I can’t
believe you just agreed to that!” he said.
“Did I have any choice?” Solomon snapped.
“She said this guy was a magician!” They had bypassed the parking garage, and
the stolen convertible, making their way to the street. A yellow cab slowed to a stop by
the curb and the boys piled in, keeping the briefcase between the two of them.
“Wait a sec,” said Solomon. “Take us to Fourth Street,” he told the driver.
“You boys are out late, isn’t it a school night?” said the driver, glancing into the
rearview mirror at them.
“Not at all,” said Nick. “We’re both wealthy foreign businessmen. And neither of
us speak English,” he said.
Immediately the driver took his attention off them. For the rest of the trip it would
seem as if the two men in the backseat were arguing back and fort in some garbled
language he couldn’t comprehend.
Nick sighed.
“Always wish I could do neat tricks like that,” said Solomon in mild admiration.
“Which is exactly why I need to avoid other magicians,” said Nick. “I’m
different. I’m a wanted man. I…”
“A wanted man?” Solomon shot back. Nick scowled. “You know what I mean,”
he said in irritation.
“Nothing’s going to happen to you. I won’t let it,” said Solomon. He leaned back
in his seat. “You’re too valuable.”
***********************************************************************
*

Solomon and Nick still hadn’t heard anything about a new job three weeks after
their meeting with the Red Lady—so called because neither boy had ever learned her real
name. The haul from their last job had been the largest they’d ever taken in. Large
enough, in fact, that Solomon predicted it would be months before they had to do it again.
Nick was sitting in his bedroom, mindlessly watching the enormous flat-screen
that occupied most of the wall opposite. Apart from the bed it was the only thing in the
room. Irritated, and bored, he hit the remote. The screen went black and Nick pushed
himself out of bed, making his way through the apartment on padded feet.
“S’that you?” mumbled Solomon. Nick glanced over, spotting his friend laid out
across the sofa.
“Morning, sunshine,” said Nick, yanking open the refrigerator door. Inside were a
half-empty bottle of soda and three Styrofoam containers of leftover Chinese. He picked
up one of the boxes, sniffing at the two-day-old orange chicken. “We don’t have anything
to eat,” he said, throwing the Chinese back into the fridge in disgust and slamming the
door closed.
“Just eat the damn Chinese,” said Solomon. His voice was muffled—he’d turned
back into the covers to block out the afternoon light.
“It’s putrid,” said Nick. “I’m going out to get some groceries.”
Solomon mumbled something incomprehensible. “Order your own pizza,” Nick
shot back. Rummaging through a large pile of laundry on the floor he found a pair of
mostly clean jeans and a T-shirt.
As he stepped outside he was assaulted by the afternoon sun. It was a little after
one, and a school day. Across the complex one of his older neighbors was watering her
plants on her patio. He kept his head down as she glared up at him. Since he and Solomon
had moved into the building a few months before they had borne a lot of scrutiny. It
didn’t seem right to the others that two boys, the oldest no more than twenty, were living
all by themselves in the middle of the city.
It would have been easy to use an illusion to keep the neighbors at bay, Nick often
mused, but he and Solomon had long ago resolved to use their powers only when
necessary. It was the law of the street, Solomon had explained when he was younger. If
you use a trick too much people eventually catch on.
So rather than resort to magical trickery, the boys resorted to the modern-day
kind. It was because of that Nick had a license in his wallet that claimed him to be sixteen
years old and the same reason that according to the state Solomon was twenty-two.
Nick thought fondly of the car from the heist as he slipped behind the seat of
Solomon’s green Toyota. That was another law—don’t draw attention to yourself. This
was why the ancient, battered vehicle existed as their only mode of transportation.
Besides, thought Nick as he tapped his finger against the ignition, it didn’t have to look
pretty to run like a champ.
The engine roared to life under his touch. Had it not been for his ability to make it
work it is likely the old wreck wouldn’t have run at all. It was only a sheer force of wheel
that kept the machine intact as he rolled down the street and around the corner to the
market.
 “Why if it isn’t little Johnny Hart?” said the checkout girl as he walked in. He
smiled awkwardly. “Why aren’t you in school?”
“I’m home schooled, remember?” he said, eliciting a squeal of laughter from the
girl.
Solomon had flirted and teased the girl ever since they moved onto the block.
Since then she had paid special attention to them every time they had come into her
school.
“Sure, honey, sure,” she said with a wink. “Special on roast beef. Hey, maybe you
should cook one up and ask me over for dinner.”
“I’ll ask Brad,” said Nick, using Solomon’s assumed name.
“And how is that brother of yours?” she asked.
“Sleeping!” called Nick over his shoulder as he picked up a basket and walked
away, grateful when a customer walked into her checkout line and prevented further
chatting.
He was in the middle of the cereal aisle when he felt his cell phone buzzing in his
back pocket. Glancing at the readout, he flipped it open.
“Yeah…Bradley?”
“Er…guess you’re still at the supermarket,” said the voice over the phone.
“Unless you want to starve or keep living off noodles, yeah,” said Nick.
“Listen; can you do me a favor?”
Nick rolled his eyes. “What?”
“I’ve got some stuff at Cavender’s. Think you could pick it up for me?”
“Yeah. Fine.” Nick snapped the phone shut, vaguely annoyed at having been
turned errand boy. He finished up the shopping, dealt with another round of questioning
by the checkout girl, and heading back to the south side of town detoured into a part of
town that looked long since abandoned.
There were a handful of cars parked along the side of the mostly empty alley.
Where shops had been there were now boarded up windows and broken glass. Nick
parked and walked halfway down the sidewalk until he came to a narrow wooden
doorway. He knocked and, after a moment, a small slot opened up in the door.
“Password?” a gruff voice asked.
“Merlin was robbed,” said Nick.
The man behind the door chuckled. “Good to see you again, kid,” he said as the
door opened to reveal a tall and thin older man in a T-shirt and shorts, with several days’
worth of white stubble covering his heavy chin.
“Yeah, same here, Ridley” said Nick, stepping inside and pulling the door closed
behind him. “Solomon said he’d ordered something?”
“Yeah. I was wondering when he’d get around to picking that up,” he said,
disappearing behind the counter for several minutes.
The shop wasn’t much bigger than the single room that Nick stood in. There were
no windows and only the one fluorescent light in the center of the room, which cast an
unusual glow over the dust-covered surface of the counter and a myriad of strange objects
that filled the space. Nick picked up a sparkling crystal wand.
“People really use these things?” he said doubtfully.
“Yeah. Some people like toys,” said the shopkeeper as he resurfaced with a small,
neatly bound paper package. “You want me to put this on your bill?” he asked.
 “How much is it?” asked Nick.
“One K.”
“I’ll take care of it now,” said Nick. He reached once again for a wallet, pulling
ten crisp hundred dollar bills out of his pocket.
The man whistled as he took the money and stowed it away. “You boys are doing
pretty well,” he said.
“Yeah. We just did a big job up at the Marquis.”
“Oh yeah? So that was you guys? Heard about it on the news.”
“And you know I’ve always wanted to be famous,” said Nick, picking up the
package. “Hey, you ever heard of a guy named Gray?”
Ridley froze, scratching the white stubble on his chin thoughtfully. “Gray you
say? Wonder if you mean Ellis Gray.”
“I don’t know,” said Nick with a shrug. “He’s supposed to hire us for a job.
Solomon’s all for it.”
“And you’re not sure. You’re probably right. Gray is bad business,” said Ridley.
“Well, I don’t have a say,” said Nick bitterly. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you around,
all right?”
He slammed his way back through the door and out into the street. A pair of thugs
hardly older than him spun around. Rather than deal with them Nick made them forget
that he was even there, and walked right past, tossing the package into the passenger seat.
He was halfway home when the phone rang. “Almost there,” he hissed into the receiver.
“You’ll get your…”
“Hey, don’t worry about that,” said Solomon. “I just got the call. We’re meeting
with Gray over dinner.” The line went dead and, irritated, Nick threw the phone down
next to the package.
Solomon was waiting on the stairs when Nick pulled back in, his white-blonde
hair still damp from a shower. “Mind taking care of the groceries?” said Nick irritably as
he got out of the car and slammed the door. Solomon rolled his eyes and snapped his
fingers. When Nick opened the door several plastic bags were sitting on the kitchen floor.
“Gee. Thanks,” said Nick.
“I brought them in. You put them up,” said Solomon, tossing himself back on the
couch. He caught the package as Nick tossed it his way. “Sweet! Thanks, little bro.”
“I’m not your bro,” muttered Nick as he started stuffing dinners into the freezer.
“What is that anyway?” he asked.
“Contraband. From the Otherworld.”
“What?” Nick paused in what he was doing for a moment. “You can’t be serious.
How did you even get that?”
“Ridley has his ways,” said Solomon. “How much did he end up charging?”
“A thousand.”
“No joke? I would have charged more,” he said.
“Yeah. And you’re a cheat,” retorted Nick, causing the other boy to burst out
laughing. From the other room Nick heard the ripping of paper and several moments of
silence followed by a long, low whistle.
“Just what is that?” he asked, crossing back into the other room. Solomon’s hand
appeared from over the top of the couch, a battered and ancient looking book in his hand.
Nick plucked it from him, glancing at the foreign script on the cover.
 “You know I can’t decipher,” he said, handing the book back over.
“Yeah, right.” Solomon flipped through the book. “A complete bestiary of the
Shadow Walks.” Turning to look at Nick significantly, he handed the book back to Nick.
“Including the Metricant.”
Although he couldn’t read the strange writing Nick recognized the pen and ink
drawing on the page that Solomon had the book open to. He stared in horror for a
moment at the image, feeling something like panic rise up in his throat. He pushed the
picture back towards Solomon. “Why would you want something like that?” he asked.
“Because you can summon Otherworlders. If we could…”
“There’s no way I’m messing with those monsters again,” said Nick forcefully.
“Just what are you after? We’re making almost a hundred thousand bucks a year doing
what we’re doing.”
“We could make more,” said Solomon.
Nick sighed. It wasn’t the first time that they had argued over this. Since Solomon
first heard about the incident of Nick and the girl, he had wondered if it would be
possible to use the Otherworlders to their advantage. It was an idea that frightened Nick.
After all, how could he explain to his friend that the Otherworlders were more
than just frightening creatures? They were more human than they were anything.
“I don’t want to make more,” said Nick. “I’m getting tired of this.”
“Fine.” Solomon slammed the book down on a table, storming out of the room
and toward the second, rarely used, bedroom. Nick spun around to say something but the
door slammed closed in his face.
Nick sighed. He picked up the book and flipped through the pages until he saw
the picture of the Metricant again. In the back of his mind the memories came back to
him, unwelcome as they were.
A tall, thin creature in a darkened room. A creature without eyes and a sharp grin
that stretched from temple to temple, leaning over the bed of a young girl who was too
frightened to move or even scream. In the etching the monster took up half the page and a
small figure in the corner had black holes where the eyes should be.
He slammed the cover back on the image. After a while Solomon, in his best
business attire, came back out of the room.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“I have a meeting,” said Solomon.
“You can’t go alone,” said Nick, putting the book back down.
“Yeah? Well, my partner just bailed out on me, so I guess I have to.”
Nick scratched his head in agitation. “I did not bail out on you,” he said.
“What do you call it?” retorted Solomon, crossing his hands over his chest.
Nick closed his eyes. “Listen, I’ll do it…maybe. But I don’t want to hurt anybody,
so I’m not sure how this will all work out. And the last thing I want is to end up being
Exiled.”
“Last thing I want too, bro,” he said. Then he let out a long whoop and threw his
arm around Nick’s shoulders, ruffling his hair. “You and me bro, we’re going to be rich!
I can see it now.”
“Yeah, sure,” said Nick.
When they got to the restaurant that evening, their host had already arrived. The
man stood as they came over to his table, shaking both their hands as if they were his
equals. He was wearing a very expensive suit, his silver hair in a long braid. Nick felt a
glimmer of recognition but it quickly disappeared. “Good evening gentlemen,” he said in
a voice as smooth as silk. “I trust you’re both well?”
“We’re fine,” said Solomon. “The Red Lady told you about us?”
“I’ll admit that she was the one who gave me your number,” said Gray. “But I
heard about your boys a long time ago. You’ve been busy.”
“We cover our tracks,” interrupted Nick. If there was any source of pride that he
had in his work it was that he and Solomon had never been suspected in anything.
“You certainly do. All I was ever able to find out was that two young men were
running a very successful jewel burglary operation out this way. There was nothing to
suggest they were Magicians…until, of course, you began impersonating illusionists.”
Gray poured himself a glass of red wine. Solomon and Nick, uncertain of themselves in
this new situation, remained silent until the man continued.
“Even then I only suspected the truth. Until I made contact with Ms. Regina Wells
—your Red Lady. She told me that two years ago she become the fence for a pair of
Magicians selling stolen jewels. When I expressed interest in your services, she accepted
a small monetary compensation in exchange for your phone number.”
“How much were we worth?” said Nick. He felt Solomon kick him under the
table, but Gray’s lips curled in amusement.
“A half a million in cash,” he said, “And the Star Diamond. I hope you end up
being worth what I paid.”
“When will you need us?” asked Solomon.
“Immediately,” said Gray. “There is a plane waiting for us. With any luck your
part in this job will be over and done with tonight.”
“Tonight?” Nick shook his head. “It takes us a lot longer than that—“
“Anything you will need is already available,” said Gray. “As for the job…it is
your specific skills that I need.” His eyes locked on to Nick’s. “You can make things
happen. No, don’t bother saying that any Magician can do that—I remember you,
Nicholas Swift. I remember your case.”
Nick shook his head. “Just because I can do things doesn’t mean I will.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to do something you don’t want to,” said the man, just as
Solomon was about to interrupt. “But you’re more able to help me than others.”
“And if I don’t help you will you go to the Magician’s Court?” asked Nick.
At this the man gave the boys a sharp toothed grin. “They want me as much as
they want you, son,” said Gray. “Perhaps more. Trust me, I won’t be settling down for a
nice chat with Ignatius Bane anytime soon.”
“All right?” said Solomon. “So what’s the job?”
Gray’s jet was already on the runway when he and the boys arrived. It was closing
in on ten o’clock at night. The man ushered them up the steps and into the jet.
During the hour that they were in the air, Nick debated going through with
whatever it was that Gray had planned. Something was bothering him about the man, and
it wasn’t just Ridley Cavender’s veiled warnings in his shop earlier that afternoon. He got
the feeling that he had known Gray before, or that somehow he’d heard of him, even
though there wasn’t any way that that was possible.
By the time they touched down he’d gone over every option he could think of and
had realized he had no choice for the moment but to go along with whatever it was that
the man had planned. Solomon was far less pensive, and had the wicked gleam in his eye
that Nick had long since learned meant he saw money on the horizon.
“All right boys, this is where we part ways,” said Gray, shaking both of their
hands again. “I hope to see you again, very soon.”
Another man in a gray suit led them across the tarmac to a big, black jeep. A
young woman leaned over and pushed the door open. “Get in; I need you in one piece.
My name is Lucy,” she said as the motor roared to life. “I’ll be your ride tonight.”
***********************************************************************
*

The museum had been closed for a little over a month in preparation for its new
exhibition. To the general public it was a crypt of nature’s oddities. To the magicians it
was a place of science and history, containing artifacts of their race and a handful of
artifacts originating in the Walks.
Nick suspected that a small, leather-bound book in his possession had once sat in
its library.
He had never been to the museum, though Solomon had, and anything he knew
about the place was secondhand knowledge.
Lucy bypassed security with Nick’s help, flashing a small blank card to the guard
as they drove through his station. “I didn’t know your powers worked against other
Magician’s,” said Solomon as the guard’s booth disappeared behind them.
“I didn’t either,” said Nick.
Lucy gave them a dark look and they both fell silent. The girl, who seemed barely
older than Solomon if that, carried an air of authority that was unmistakable. She was tall
and thin, with cropped red hair that glowed against her pale skin.
They pulled into the back lot. Nick and Solomon hopped out of the Jeep. Lucy
stayed put. “You two have been working together long enough that you can read each
other’s minds, right?”
Solomon nodded. Nick shoved his hands in his pockets, unwilling to look at the
girl.
“Right. Take this.” She leaned over, pinning a small silver badge on the lapel of
Solomon’s jacket. “You’ll be able to get in touch with me. If something goes wrong call
me. If you find it, or you don’t…”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Solomon. “Call you.”
Lucy glared at him. “This isn’t a game,” she said. Her gaze fell over to Nick. “Are
you paying attention, Nicholas?”
He nodded sharply.
“Great.” She pointed toward a low overhang. A security door was underneath.
“That’s your way in. The pass code is nine nine two one seven,” she said. “The second
door is magically protected. You’ll need this.” She flipped a small glass vial to Nick. “It’s
antimagic—and it’s expensive. You’ll both be powerless for five minutes.
“You know the rest of your instructions. I’ll be waiting here when you come back
with the merchandise.”
“Got it.” With Solomon in the lead the boys went to the door. The keypad gave a
few short beeps, then another longer beep and the door clicked open. Behind the first
door there was a second. It glowed faintly in the darkness. Solomon unscrewed the top of
the vial and a thin green vapor rolled out. It quickly began to expand.
At first contact he felt dizziness sweep over him. Then there was a slowly
growing knot in the pit of his stomach. Solomon felt it too. Nick saw him double over,
holding on to the wall for a long moment. He took a deep breath, then another, and finally
pushed Solomon. “Come on, we can’t waste time. I just want to get this over with,” he
said. Solomon nodded and, seeing that the second door was now nothing but ordinary
steel. It gave way when he pushed at it.
The room they entered was for storage. There was little to see except boxes piled
on top of one another. There were two doors beyond. Solomon entered the first room, a
small office, and returned a few moments later with a large key ring. The other door led
them into a long hall.
Ignoring the other offices that branched off to either side Nick and Solomon made
their way to the stairwell at the end of the hall. Their target was on the top floor.
Approaching the last flight of stairs, Solomon stopped. “I’ll stay here and keep
watch,” he said. “Go on ahead.”
“My powers haven’t returned yet,” said Nick. “I’m not going yet.”
“There’s nothing up there! Even without your powers you can make contact with
the Otherworlder. We’d be worse off hanging around here for any longer.”
Nick froze for several seconds. “Fine,” he said finally, yanking open the door to
the top floor and entering the room alone.
Unlike the others, the top floor of the museum had not been separated into
separate rooms. A dim glow came through long, low windows, casting everything in
shadow. Remembering the instructions the girl Lucy had given him he headed for the
back corner of the room.
He expected to see a narrow podium topped by a glass case. In the glass case, he
expected to see a Sapphire the size of his fist. The Tear of the Otherworld, it was often
called. A perfect gem containing more magic than any human, Magician or not, could
even dream up.
What met him instead was a massive cage. Positioned as it was it was cast entirely
in darkness. “What is this?” he said to himself, moving cautiously forward.
He was within feet of the cage when he saw an enormous black shadow hunched
within. As he approached it seemed to fold itself outward, expanding inch by inch until
its massive form rose to the top of the space. Then, unmistakably, he heard a wheezing
laugh. “Ah,” it murmured, “they’ve sent me my master at last.”
The monster spoke in a jeering tone of voice. Nick now saw its teeth, glinting
madly as what little light there was touched its form.
“Master?” Nick said, taking a step back. “I’m not…”
“Don’t you recognize me? It hasn’t been that long has it?” The monster moved
closer to the bars and Nick saw it more clearly, his worst memory come to life.
“Metricant,” he said. “I didn’t…I don’t…what are you doing here?”
“The same as you, I would guess,” said the monster with another gasping laugh.
“You didn’t think the Hunters would let you get away with what you did?”
Nick shouted something. He never would remember what it was, only that he
scrambled to his feet and turned to leave the room. But it was too late. The door flew
open before he could reach it and three of the guards piled into the room, silver
instruments drawn. Behind the three of them he saw Lucy, her hand around Solomon’s
chest and a silver dagger at his neck.
“GO!” screamed his friend. Nick, trapped between the Hunters and the monster,
did the only thing that he knew to do.
Reaching deep inside himself, for something he had long since buried away, he
now tore it from himself and threw it at his enemies. “The Metricant will have your
eyes,” he said. “He will eat your souls if you don’t release me.”
“No!” shouted Lucy in anguish. She began to step forward but at the signal of one
the Hunters stopped.
Behind Nick, there was a large crash as the cage the monster was kept in
shattered. “Don’t hurt Solomon,” he said. “He didn’t do anything.”
“Didn’t he?” The monsters voice, deep and rough, spoke behind him. “It was a
convenient plan. Retrieve the monster for Gray, and give his little helper up along with
the beast for a tidy sum.”
“It’s not true!” shouted Solomon.
But in the monster’s laugh, Nick heard a ring of truth. “It isn’t?” he said, taking a
step back. “Then what about that stupid book?”
The light of panic filled Solomon’s eyes then. He knew he’d been caught. Nick
began to shake his head. The Hunter’s had fallen back but their weapons were drawn. If
he didn’t act fast he imagined he’d end up dead—or worse. “To hell with you,” he said.
“Metricant…do what you will.”
“With pleasure,” the monster growled. Nick began taking slow steps backward,
watching as the monster descended on the monsters, as well as the only friend and family
he’d had for most of his life. He picked up one of the bars that had broken away from the
Metricant’s cage and burst out the glass of a window.
But as he began to step out the window he froze. With a glance back he saw the
monster descend on one of the Hunters, massive jaws wide open, ready to feast. “No,” he
whispered. “No.” He stepped back in. “I can’t do this,” he murmured.
The moment his will faded the Metricant froze. “Master?” it growled.
“No,” said Nick simply. “You know what? Fine. If nobody in this world gives a
damn about me I’d rather be taken into Exile. And that’s where I order you to return,” he
said to the creature.
There was a loud roar, which lasted for several moments, and then silence.
Defeated, Nick fell to his knees. The Hunter the Metricant had been about to consume
came over to him, holding his wrists tightly and binding them with silver cuffs. Chains
shot from the metal and wrapped around him so that only his legs were mobile. His
powers had yet to return to him—in a flash Nick realized that they never would. They
had been removed.
“I’m sorry,” said Solomon as the Hunter pushed past him. Nick didn’t look his
way. He couldn’t even begin to think. Every moment, every minute, was passing by in a
blur.
When they got to the bottom of the stairs the man Nick had known as Gray was
standing there. “Ignatius Bane,” he said simply. The man nodded his head in assent.
“This entire scene could have been avoided, Nicholas,” he said. “You had only to
turn yourself in when the incident first took place.”
“I never hurt anybody,” he said.
 “Why don’t you say that to Graciela Mendoza?” Lucy came up to him, leaning
down so that her eyes were boring down into his. They flashed green fire in the darkness.
“You may see her again, where you’re going.”
“Wh-what? Grace was…”
“The young lady was Exiled,” said Bane, crossing his arms across his chest. “It
was unfortunate but had to be done. As is the case with you. If the stories I’ve heard are
true, you were a promising young Magician. A pity you got off to such a wretched start.”
Nick was piled into a sleek black car with two of the Hunters. He watched as
Lucy and the third Hunter took Solomon with them in the Jeep, while Bane oversaw the
end of the matter.
There is only one Magician’s Court in this world, and only one gateway to the
Otherworld. Nick had never seen either, so as the car hit the highway he had no idea to
which he was headed. The Hunters were silent and, still angry and hurt and confused,
Nick was in no mood to ask questions. So as the minutes turned to hours and his car
continued along the road without indication as to their destination, Nick for the first time
in a long while was uncertain of his future.
Dawn had already started to color the sky a light blue when they turned off the
main road. From the windows Nick could see the hazy blue ridge of mountains in the
horizon and, though it was early fall, the air in the car had grown colder. The sky had
already turned a brilliant blue by the time they finally pulled over and stopped.
They were outside a small glass building, in a lot barely big enough for a dozen
vehicles. The Hunter who was driving them got out of the car and went around,
disappearing inside for several minutes. When he returned there was an older woman
with him. The door was yanked open and Nick was asked to step out.
The woman stared at him for a long moment. “Nicholas Swift,” she finally
pronounced. She was holding a battered leather book in her hands. “You were sentenced,
on the Seventh of July of the year Two Thousand and Four, to Exile in the Otherlands.
Accept your sentence now and you will be immediately transported.”
“If I don’t accept my sentence?” he asked.
“If you don’t accept your sentence,” she said, bowing her head gravely, “you will
be forced to wait nine months for trial. All known crimes will be taken into account for
your resentencing. The choice is yours.”
She opened the book and extended to Nick a silver pen. Hands held together by
the cuffs, Nick took the pen, found his name on the page, and signed. She clapped it
closed and nodded curtly.
“You will be transported tomorrow morning. On reaching the Otherworld your
powers should return—it is not in you sentence that you should lose them permanently.”
“Thank you,” said Nick suddenly. He wasn’t certain why he said it, and was
equally surprised that he meant it. The woman blinked, and finally smiled at him.
“When we are young we do many things we don’t understand,” she said. “It is not
your fault, what has happened to you. It’s more kind this way…” she said. Then her face
flushed, as if she’d said too much, and without another word she turned away.
Nick was led to a small holding cell. Although he hardly believed it was possible
he fell asleep and didn’t wake again until late in the day.
Though the sky was still light the moon was visible, a transparent white sphere
against the blue. He saw it through the high window of his cell. It was going to be full.
He wondered if the gateway was only open when the moon was full, or if it was just
another one of the strange coincidences that seemed to rule his life.
Before long the first Hunter—the one who had been driving—came to Nick’s
room with a sandwich wrapped in plastic and a can of soda. “It’s tough, kid, but…listen, I
can tell ya’ ain’t bad news,” he said. He sat down with him. “You coulda let that thing
kill us and if it were up to me that would count for something. But once the Court makes
its rulings there isn’t any going back.”
“Yeah,” said Nick faintly, unwrapping the sandwich and taking a bite. He
couldn’t imagine being hungry, but no sooner had he tasted the turkey club than he
realized he was famished. He remembered buying groceries just the day before—thought
about the apartment that was soon to be a world away and wondered if Solomon would
find a new partner now that he was out of the picture.
“I knew the girl,” said the guard after a long moment. Nick paused then, looked
up at the man. “Grace,” the man clarified. “I took her in until the trial. It just wasn’t right,
a kid like that in prison. Lucy’s never forgiven the Court for putting her away.”
“Lucy. The redhead?”
The Hunter nodded. “My daughter.” Nick popped the tab of his cold drink,
looking over at the man. He appeared troubled. “It’s okay,” said Nick finally. “I’ve never
really had a home here anyway. I guess it’ll be pretty much the same over there, too.”
The man shook his head. After a few more minutes he extended his hand. “My
name is Wilson.”
Nick brushed his hands off on his jeans. “Nice to meet you,” he said, taking the
man’s hand.
“No you’re not,” said the man. “But I’ll forgive you for it.”
Nick finished eating and Wilson took the empty containers away, returning after a
few moments with cuffs. Nick let himself be bound, and as he was led from the cell they
were joined by the other hunter as well as the judge.
“I thought Bane was going to be here,” said Wilson.
“He’s dealing with the other boy,” she said.
Nick felt a pang of guilt as he was being led off into the woods. Was Solomon
really going to be punished for his years and years of thieving? Although his feelings
were clouded with anger he didn’t want Solomon’s powers permanently removed—or
worse.
His thoughts were interrupted as they forked off into the woods, taking a path that
only existed because of the many feet that had trod that way over the years. As night
approached, the woman stretched her hand out and whispered something. A ball of light
erupted in her hand, casting the small group and the trail before them in faint light.
Just as he began to wonder what was taking them so long he saw an old man in
the distance.
He barely looked at them as they approached. He sat on a simple stone chair,
knobby fingers clutching his knees. “Nicholas Swift?” he said. Noting the glances of the
two Hunters, Nick stepped forward. The old man stood, staring at the boy for a long
moment.
“You’re late,” he finally pronounced. He stepped over broken pieces of stone that
might once have been a gateway and gripped a gold doorknob that jutted from the
ground. He yanked twice until, with a groan, a door opened wide, revealing soft brown
earth underneath. When Nick hesitated, the man came over and grabbed him by the
shoulder. “Come on, we haven’t got all night,” he said, pushing him onto the triangle of
dirt.
Wilson stepped forward and pulled the cuffs from his hands. Nick stood dumbly
for a moment, wondering when something would happen. Then he realized that he could
feel moisture surrounding his ankles. He glanced down and yelped in surprise when he
saw that he was slowly sinking into the earth. Faster and faster he slid into the earth until
only his head remained above the surface. Then, taking one last gasp of air, Nick slid
fully into the ground. Falling several feet, he landed with a loud thud on the stone floor of
a massive cave.

***********************************************************************
*

“If you’re all right, I’d suggest we get out of here.”

Nick groaned as he got to his knees. Apart from the bruise he was sure to have in
the morning he was otherwise okay. He stretched his fingers out in front of his face and,
even from only inches away, wasn’t able to see anything. Focusing for a few seconds he
was able to create a small ball of shimmering light. His magic had returned, just like the
lady had promised.
“Are you done playing?” said the voice again. “It stinks in here.”
Nick now looked all around him until finally he caught sight of something near
his feet. It looked like a small, shabby ball of tattered fur. As he stared at it its head lolled
around and it stared up at him with two small, beetle-like eyes.
“Who are you?” asked Nick. “What are you?”
“That…that doesn’t really matter,” it said. “But you can call me Rabbit.”
Nick thrust his hand out in front of him and using it as a guide started moving
along the stone corridor.
“You can think of me as Jiminy Cricket,” the rabbit said, falling into step beside
him. “Or Winnie the Pooh, if you’d like.”
“My conscious…or my imaginary friend. Funny,” said Nick. “Did the illustrious
Magician’s Court send you?”
“Do I look like I belong to the court?” the rabbit sniffed. “You’re my master. And
its because of you that I’m here.”
“What?” Nick froze. He leaned down, and after a few moments realized that he’d
seen the thing before. At least, something like it, in a drawing he’d been shown just a few
days before. “The Metricant?”
“I’m not myself at the moment, admittedly, but yes,” the creature said. “You
should have let me tear their throats out,” it said after a long moment of consideration.
“That’s disgusting,” Nick said. As they continued down the path of the cave Nick
could see a faint light in the distance. “I’m not a murderer,” he said finally.
“Neither am I,” said the creature. “I’ve never killed before.”
“But you would have,” said Nick.
“You’re my master,” said Rabbit. “I can only do what you want me to.”
“Then what about Grace?” he said. The creature was silent. “I should kill you,”
said Nick.
 “But you need me,” Rabbit said.
When Nick finally moved again the creature bounded alongside him, this time not
saying anything. As they came to the mouth of the cave Nick saw that the stone was
smooth, the last several feet of the path lit by torches that sat in holders on either wall.
The land beyond was a wide meadow. The sky was as dark here as in the world he’d
come from.
“Where are we?” said Nick.
“North of the Fields,” said Rabbit. He bounded forward a few feet, nose twitching
in the breeze. “There’s nobody around. Usually isn’t this time of year. A lot of folks
come sniffing for servants when the Exiles are sent in.”
“I won’t be anybody’s servant.” Nick looked out on the field. There was only one
small cabin in sight. “Who’s there?” he asked. “Think they may give us shelter for the
night?”
“Not likely,” said Rabbit. “People aren’t really trusting around here.”
“Well, I may be able to sneak into their barn for a place to sleep,” he said.
“They’ve got to have a barn right?”
“Probably.” Rabbit fell in stride beside Nick as he took off down the hill. “I don’t
think it’s a good idea though.”
“Am I supposed to trust you?” said Nick. He spun around to stare down at the
creature. “I don’t even know what you are. If you’re really the Metricant tell me why I
shouldn’t kill you?” he said.
“Because you’re not a murderer,” it answered simply. With a sigh and, knowing
that this was true, he looked back down at the cabin.
“Then what do you think I should do?” he asked.
Rabbit twitched its nose, inching forward in the grass. “There’s a gypsy camp not
too far from here. They tend to be kind to Outlanders.”
“Outlanders?” asked Nick.
“You,” Rabbit replied.
He led Nick sideways across the field and over a small stream until, in the
distance, he could see the haze of almost a dozen campfires in the distance. As they
approached Nick saw a figure straighten and stand. He moved in closer and the woman
standing there pulled an arrow taut on the bow she held in her hand. “Who’s there?” she
asked.
“Uhm…my name is Nick,” he said. “I’m an Exile. I need…”
Immediately the woman moved forward. She was very pretty, with long blonde
curls that fell in a tangle below her waist. To his surprise Nick saw that she was wearing
denim jeans and a T-shirt. “An Exile? At this time of year? She leaned forward. “And so
young?”
“This is my master,” Rabbit interjected.
“Is that you, Bog Rabbit?’ the girl said. She finally lowered her bow and held it
down at her side. Her eyes went up to Nick. “I know who you are,” she said after a long
moment. “You should come on into our camp. It isn’t safe in the woods at night.”
They came into a large circle of men and women. The girl ordered Nick to sit
before the fire and disappeared into one of the large tents surrounding the encampment.
After several moments she returned. “My mother will be out soon,” she said to Nick.
“Are you hungry?”
 Nick shook his head. His head was swimming, and though the sandwich he’d had
just a few hours earlier had been small he didn’t think he could stomach a bite of
anything. He did take a warm mug of something with a sweet and musky taste. He felt
warmed immediately. As he sat around the fire he felt himself sinking into the moment.
The gypsies—as Rabbit had called them—spoke in English at one moment and another
that was completely unrecognizable to him. Their voices lilted up and down with the
crackle of the fire, sometimes in song and other times in harsh debate.
With the heady drink clouding his mind and the heat of the fire pressing against
him he felt himself drifting away, and had almost fallen asleep when he felt a sharp nip at
his finger.
“Ouch,” he hissed, bringing his finger up to his mouth.
“The leader just came out,” hissed Rabbit.
Nick pulled himself up. Beside the blonde girl was an older woman who greatly
resembled her daughter. She motioned for Nick to approach her and he stumbled to his
feet. When he was standing before her the woman took him by the chin, turning his head
to either side as if trying to get a good look at him. “You’re a handsome young man…or
you will be, once you’ve grown a bit,” she said. “Have you been fed?”
“I’m not hungry,” he said quietly.
“Hmm.” The woman released him. “My name is Cora. This is my daughter Adele.
She says you’re the master of Bog Rabbit.”
“He is, sir,” said the Rabbit.
“And I suppose you don’t yet know what that means,” said Cora. Nick was about
to ask what she meant by saying that but Adele gently shook her head. Muddled by
weariness and not really in the mood to say much, he let it go. With a smile, the woman
led him back to the camp and took a seat next to him. Adele sat at her side, and Rabbit
curled up in front of them.
“I know he’s a monster. In my world, anyway,” he said.
Cora looked at him for a long moment. It was then that he noticed one of her eyes
was brown and the other green. “Your world is not yours anymore, I am afraid,” she said
finally. “I think you’ll find that many things that are monsters in your world are not in
ours. And the opposite can be true as well. May I tell you a story young man? It’s not a
long one, and when it’s over perhaps you should have some sleep.”
Leaning over to wrap her hand around her daughter’s, Cora looked into the fire.
“Many years ago, our leader was a brave and powerful man called Vega. He had been
born into our tribe, the son of an Outlander and a native, and when he was young fell in
love with a woman who had been Exiled. He was only twenty when he attempted to save
the life of a traveler in the Forest of Hands. Though he died the traveler gave Vega a
precious gift—a splinter of stone. Vega ground it to sand and melted it to glass, creating
an arrow which could pierce the heart of a monster at a thousand paces. In that moment
he became something more than the leader of a tribe. He was a Slayer, and though he
loved his wife he began to leave her, for weeks at a time, until one day he did not return.
“He died in the Hinterlands, far beyond the Folding Fields. His wife only knew
that he had passed into the next world because one morning she caught a glimmer of an
arrowhead buried in the earth outside her home. The Slayer had gifted his successor with
her weapon—over the length of an entire world he had sent the arrow to his daughter.
 “The girl accepted the gift and the legacy without a thought. She left her tribe,
determined to capture her father’s murderer. A year passed before she found the man, and
with the arrow at her fingertips, ready to fly, she could not kill him. Before her stood her
father’s mother. Her heart had been jealous and unkind in her own world. Here it was
taken by the shadows and she was twisted into a monster. She lives still…perhaps she’ll
never die.”
The camp was silent. Many had heard the tale before, though respect kept them
silent through the telling. “So Adele is a Slayer?” asked Nick. The girl started, smiling
after a few moments.
“Blunt. But yes,” said Cora. “I wanted to tell you this as a warning. Whatever you
were before, this place will increase by a hundred. If you are already a coward you’ll be
broken by next sundown. Greed and anger can ruin you. Be careful, Nicholas Swift.”

***********************************************************************
*
During the days that followed Nick found himself falling in with the Gypsies far
easier than he could have imagined. They moved their camp three days after he first
arrived and, without being invited or asking if they could join them, he helped take down
the canvas tents and clean up their campsite, setting out across the meadows of the
Otherlands.
A week had passed. Adele was walking with Nick and Rabbit, the sun bright and
hot overhead. He turned to look at her when for the first time the question came up.
“I don’t know how long I plan to stay,” he said. “I guess until something else
comes along,” he said.
“Then come with me,” Adele said. He glanced over at her. She was holding on to
the bow and arrow—over several days he had already noted that it hardly left her side.
“Come with you where?” he said.
Adele glanced up to the head of the procession, where her mother was deep in
conversation with one of the tribal elders. “I’m a Slayer,” she said. “I can’t stay with the
tribe. It’s my duty to hunt the monsters of this world.”
“But why me?” asked Nick.
“I don’t know. I guess because you can’t stay with the tribe either. We might as
well go together,” she said.
“Where would we go?” said Nick.
“Into the heart of the Fields. There’ve been a lot of attacks there. And…I think
you should see the Oracle.”
“A great idea!” said Rabbit as he bounded along at Nick’s heels.
“An oracle? Like, a fortune teller?”
“More than that,” said Adele. “She can tell you where to go. A lot of Exiles go to
the Oracle when they arrive.”
It didn’t take much convincing for Nick to agree. That night when they made their
camp he saw Adele disappear into her mother’s tent and return several minutes later,
tears streaking her face. Not long after the woman emerged, eyes red and full of rage.
“You,” she shouted, pointing at Nick. “I want you out of this camp. You put evil
thoughts in my daughter’s head.”
“Mama!” Adele cried.
 “No! I want him gone, and you too!” she said. “Before morning comes! I’ve given
you a horse, as you requested, and will give you nothing else. There should be no sight of
you when the sun rises.”
Adele guided Nick to the back of the camp, where a large white horse had been
saddled. “Are you ready?” she asked.
Several of the gypsies came to them through the night, with offerings of food,
drink, and sweet-smelling herbs, all of which Adele took gratefully and thanked the giver
graciously. Nick sat by quietly, feeling useless. Excusing himself for a moment Nick
wandered to the outskirts of the camp and began walking, trying to collect his thoughts.
As he came up the edge of the tents he saw Cora walking toward him. He began to curve
back around to avoid her, but she put up her hand. “Wait,” she called out.
Nick paused and waited for her to come up to him. “I was harsh earlier,” she said.
He could see that her eyes were red and full of hurt. “But I won’t say I was wrong.”
“Why are you so mad?” asked Nick.
“Because Adele is still a child.” Cora sighed. “Not much older than you. She’s not
ready to set out alone. Not after what happened the last time.”
“I…I’ll take care of her,” he said.
The crackle of the nearby fire glowed over face. She reached for a leather pouch
at her waist and pressed it into his hand. Nick pulled it open and saw the glint of several
coins inside. “Take this,” she said. “Don’t tell Adele that I gave it to you. I believe you
can take care of her, if only for a time. And the time may come that she’ll take care of
you. Great things lay in your future, Nicholas. Danger as well as triumph.”
She didn’t arrive to watch them leave, although most of the other gypsies did.
There was cheering and tears as Adele pulled herself up onto her horse. With a solemn
wave goodbye she rode off into the darkness, Nick at her back and Rabbit tucked away in
a leather pouch at the side of the saddle. His final glimpse of the camp was of Cora
standing strong and proud with the others, her hand raised in a sad farewell.
***********************************************************************
*
They rode on for a solid day. When Nick grew tired he slept behind Adele, who it
seemed to him at one point had no need for sleep. She rode tirelessly across meadow and
along the foot of mountain trails. They passed by several towns on the way.
Nick, had he been alone, would have stopped to see these towns. He had been in
the Otherworld for nearly a week and still felt as if he’d hardly seen anything of it.
“We need to find someplace to stay for the night,” said Adele as she turned her
face up to the sky.
“What about that place over there?” said Nick. Just over the ridge was a small
ramshackle mill that ran alongside a small stream. As they drew closer Nick saw that
most of the wood was rotted, the windows long since shattered.
“It looks like it will have to do,” she said. As they drew closer Adele dismounted,
crouching down to rake her fingers through the upturned earth. “But it looks like
somebody’s already been here. We’ll have to be careful.”
She led the horse through the front door and tied him up. Then, digging through
her saddlebags, she produced a small dagger and handed it to Nick. “You may need it,”
she said when he began to protest. “Trust me.”
 Ignoring Nick’s presence she began stripping. It wasn’t until he was confronted
with the naked curve of her back that he turned with a deep blush.
“The creatures are sure to attack tonight,” she said as she reappeared in his line of
sight wearing a short tunic over leather leggings. “Have you ever fought before?”
“I’m a thief,” said Nick. “We usually try not to fight.”
“Well, you’re going to have to. I wish I had time to teach you,” she said, yanking
her quiver over her shoulder, “but I need to scout. Send up a beacon if something comes
up. And start a fire.”
She disappeared out into the night. By the time rain began splashing through the
broken windows she hadn’t returned. Gathering together spare pieces of wood, he
focused his energy on the pile until it sparked and flared to life. Several minutes later
Adele came dashing in through the door, hair plastered to her face.
“There’s a dozen of them at the edge of the forest,” she announced. “You stay in
here. I’m going upstairs.”
“Upstairs?” said Nick in surprise. Without a word Adele climbed out the window
and clinging to the side of the mill climbed up to the roof. Nick shivered. As he waited
for the attack, he began to feeling the creatures stirring in the direction of the woods. It
occurred to Nick that he could feel them. He told Rabbit.
“Of course you can,” it said, beady eyes trained on him.
“What do you mean by that?”
“You have a certain amount of control over this place, Nick,” said Rabbit
indelicately. “The same control you’ve always had as a matter of fact. Why don’t you
help Adele?”
“Help?” said Nick. In the back of his mind he asked, do you think I can? Holding
the dagger close he went to the window. In the shadows he was now certain he could see
the glint of several blood red eyes. Focusing his attention he formed a mental block
around the mill. In his mind he saw a light glow surround them.
“They can’t see us!” he called up to Adele, hoping she could hear him.
“Right!” she called out, sending out a fire of arrows in rapid succession. The glint
of their eyes disappeared and Adele came back in through the window. “Nice trick,” she
said. “I guess it’s a thief thing. Don’t get your hopes up,” she added as she tossed her
weapons into a corner. Unfolding a large blanket she laid it down on the floor across
from the fire. “There will be more.”
“I can keep the shield up for a while,” he said. “If you want to sleep.”
Adele nodded. It looked like she wanted to protest but her shoulders were
beginning to slump. “All right,” she said. “But don’t let me stay out for too long.” She
laid down on the mat and curled into the corner. Her breathing steadily slowed and
deepened until Nick could sense, even without prying, that she was deeply asleep.
He held the shield for close to an hour, watching through the window for anything
creeping along the edge of darkness. But soon the combination of exhaustion from their
day long ride and holding such an immense block wiped him out. His eyes slid closed
and, leaning against the windowsill, he passed out.
Near midnight he heard a deafening shriek. He spun around, and through the
heavy smoke of the dying fire he saw Adele pinned down by a long needle-like claw that
had pierced through the wall. She looked at him, eyes wide and full of fear. And
something else, he realized as he grabbed for the dagger she had given him. Anger.
 He tossed it to Adele and she stabbed wildly at the hard shell. There was a loud
shriek and it slid back through the wall. Scrambling away, Adele reached for a long item
wrapped in black cloth. She unwrapped the sword, holding it in front of her.
“Get back!” she shouted.
Nick pushed himself away from the wall and moved toward the fire, unable to
function for a moment. When he finally refocused Adele was stabbing blindly through
the wall, the monster on the other side screaming. He felt more coming up over the ridge,
and finally able to concentrate put up another block. He felt the creatures thudding
against his shield as the life faded from those at the other end of Adele’s sword.
“I’ve got them back but I’m tired…it’s starting to slip!” he said.
“All right,” said Adele. “Then here’s what we’re going to do.” He held them off
for several, minutes longer, inching the shield closer and closer to the mill. By the time
Adele had packed up the horse, with Rabbit cowering in the leather saddlebag, the
creatures were feet from the walls. Their unearthly growls and cries sent a cold chill
prickling over Nick’s skin.
They mounted the horse, and as they crashed through the door and out of the
building Nick used the final bit of his magic to push the creatures toward the door as
Adele sent the embers of the fire up in a burning spire. The entire place went up in flames
that sizzled as they met the drizzling rain. The burning bodies of the creatures writhed
and swirled inside.
“I’m sorry,” Nick gasped.
“No, it’s my fault,” said Adele. “You couldn’t have known,” she whispered.
“Anyway, you’ve more than made up for it. If it hadn’t been for you we’d both be dead.”
They stayed awake the rest of the night, riding towards what Adele called Market
Town. As they rode Adele told him of the Creatures that inhabited the Otherworld.
They had always been around, their numbers changing through the years. There
were many legends about them, but the most popularly spread was that of the sacred river
that flowed through the Hinterlands. Only the strongest of creatures could cross over it
from the Darklands, although many people said the river itself grew weaker and weaker
over time. Only a sacrifice could strengthen it, she said. A human sacrifice.
“So there’s got to be another one soon?” asked Nick. “If the river is getting weak
I mean.”
“It’s only a story,” said Adele.
“Where I come from monsters like that are only stories. I was sent here for
summoning the Metricant.”
“The Metricant?” said Adele, looking over her shoulder at him. “I didn’t realize,”
she said, turning her attention back to their path. “My mother was right about you. You’re
special.”

******************************************************************

The market was the first City that Nick had seen since entering the Otherlands. It
rose over the horizon, a towering structure of glass and polished wood. Banners fluttered
in the breeze from high towers and balconies. They entered through a wide gate flanked
on either side by men in chainmail, each armed with a deadly looking lance.
 Adele stabled the horse and they set off together into the bustling crowd. “The
oracle should be here. She usually sets her tent up on Wednesdays.”
“The oracle is here?” said Nick skeptically. He had pictured a smoky cabin in the
middle of nowhere. This placed looked like it might have been plucked from his world.
Booths lined the cobbled street, with shouts and foreign sounds assaulting him from
every angle.
“Of course,” said Adele. She led him up a narrow stone walkway and down
another street. Several vendors barked at them from across the way, selling everything
from clothing and foods to potions and weapons. Strips of dried meat and multicolored
animal hides hung from a number of the stands, and Nick was reminded of the crystals
and philters in Cavender’s shop as they passed a woman with trays of potions and wands
of crystal, wood and stone laid out on a velvet cloth.
A man with one eye bargained with a veiled woman over a bulging packet of
congealed blood. Beneath the silk that covered her face he caught a glimpse of scaly
lavender skin.
“I’m starving,” Nick admitted finally as they passed a stand selling meat pies. The
scent of them wafted up the street and sent his stomach rumbling.
“Oh,” said Adele. “Sorry. Why don’t you grab a bite? I have errands anyway.”
She paused. “Don’t ask what kind of meat that is,” she warned. For the sake of his
appetite Nick decided to follow her advice.
She left him sitting on a stone wall, blowing on his dinner to cool it, while she
disappeared into the bustling crowd. “Pretty girl,” said a boy, coming up beside Nick.
Saying nothing, he picked at his food. “She yours?” he asked.
At this Nick turned to look at the boy. He had a sharp hooked nose and deep-set
eyes. “We’re traveling together,” said Nick after a little consideration. “That’s all.” He bit
into his food, ignoring the burn of hot oil on his tongue.
“Hmm.” The boy was staring at Nick. “You an Outworlder?” he asked, tugging at
the sleeve of his T-shirt.
For the first time since he’d joined the Gypsy camp Nick had changed back into
the black shirt and pants he’d been wearing the night of the set up. He tugged his arm out
of the boy’s reach, staring down at the ground. “Yeah,” he said.
“Kind of young.”
Nick stood up, tossing the remains of his lunch in a nearby bin. “None of your
business,” he shot back, walking away.
The boy followed him. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said. “My name is
Deacon.”
Nick turned around. “Johnny Hart,” he said, extending his hand. “Nice to meet
you.”
The boy eyed him. “No you’re not. Johnny Hart, I mean. What’s you’re real
name?” he asked.
With his hand still encased in the other boy’s he stared him up and down. He was
a little older than Nick, and wearing clothes that would be recognized as expensive in any
world. Finally Nick relented.
“No family here, huh?” he said. “Orphan?”
“Something like that.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You know, you
shouldn’t linger after you’ve already lifted something from your target,” he said, dangling
the small bag of coins from his fingertips. The look on the boy’s face contorted into one
of fury.
“Are you accusing me of something?” he said, taking a step forward.
“Not at all,” said Nick. He pushed into the boy’s mind experimentally, feeling it
wipe clean. Deacon blinked, then stared at Nick for a long moment as if trying to
remember who he was.
“Hey, Swift, come on,” called Adele as she came back over the stairs. She
stopped, looking from one boy to another. “Did I miss something?” she asked.
“Nope.” Nick shoved his money back deep into his pocket. Leaving the boy
dazedly behind, he followed Adele back up and into one of the low buildings, following a
long glass corridor.
“What was that about?” she said.
“Pickpocket,” said Nick. Adele smiled. They stopped in front of a wide,
unmarked door. A slender woman with thick white hair pulled it open just as she rose her
hand to knock, smiling at them. “Lovely to see you again,” she said. “And you as well,
Adele.”
Her parlor was sparsely decorated. A long, low table sat in the center of the room,
a dozen chairs surrounding it. “I’ve made tea,” she said.
“Thank you, Oracle,” said Adele, nudging Nick.
“Uh…yeah, thanks,” he repeated.
There was a small clatter at the fireplace before the woman returned with a small
ceramic pot and a trio of delicate cups. “I don’t read tea leaves,” she said, “so don’t worry
about that.” She poured three cups, placing one in front of each of them. “I’m glad to see
you’ve finally set out on your own, Huntress,” said the Oracle.
If this is her idea of small talk, thought Nick, I don’t know if I’m ready for a
serious discussion.
“You certainly evaded capture for a good time, Nicholas Swift,” she said as she
turned her attention to him. Her eyes twinkled merrily. “I often wondered if I would ever
see you.”
“Don’t you know for certain?” he asked.
“Perhaps,” said the old lady, “although one hopes to be wrong from time to time.
Life can be ever so boring otherwise.” She rose up from her seat and crossed to a high
shelf. She returned after a moment cradling something in her hands. “A young girl
crossed through here many years ago and left this in my possession. I think this belongs
to you,” she said.
In her hands was a small skeleton key, wrapped up in a silver chain. Nick felt his
heart fall as he reached out and took it. It was warm under his fingers. “Grace,” he
whispered. Adele turned, watching him strangely. Unwrapping the chain, he slid it
around his neck, letting the trinket fall against his chest. “How long ago?” he finally
managed to say.
“Almost four years,” said the Oracle. “I haven’t seen her since. Is she important to
you?”
“No. I mean…yes, of course she is. But I never even really knew her…”
“You knew her enough to covet her. Greed…” the woman exhaled deeply. “Ah,
yes, that certainly is a sin. A girl who was perfect in every way…a girl who was loved by
all who knew her. Your foster parents were going to adopt her, weren’t they? And you
were going to be sent to a new home.”
“I didn’t mean for anything like that to happen,” he said.
“But it did,” said the Oracle. She placed her hands palm up on the table. Adele
nudged him again and, after a moment’s hesitation, Nick placed his hands on top of hers.
“You have been hurt, again and again,” she said. “And yet again recently.” Through her
closed lids Nick could see the twitching of her eyes. “A brother, the only you have other
had. Though I see that he was not completely at fault. No—don’t try and explain. You’ll
learn more before long. You know very little about your mother and father. Did you
know that she had escaped from this world?”
Nick pulled back in disbelief. “Nobody escapes from this world,” he said. Again,
the woman smiled.
“My dear boy, somebody with enough skill to leave this place certainly has
enough skill to evade capture on the other side. Many have found a way beyond these
borders. Your talent is in your blood, Nicholas.” She reached out, taking his hands back
into hers. “By both your mother and your father. He lives, boy. Seek out the Hinterlands
to find him.” She was about wave him away, then paused. “And tell the girl I said hello,”
she added.
Nick jerked back, standing away from the table. The Oracle smiled blandly. “I
believe that you have had enough for now,” she said. “Adele? Be a dear and let the both
of you out. I feel an ache in my joints tonight.”

***********************************************************************
*

“Alive?” said Nick in shock. “My father is alive?”

Rabbit, now returned to them, twitched his ears thoughtfully. “It’s not surprising,”
he said. “You’ve always been so connected to the Shadow Walks…”
“You mean like how I was able to summon you?” said Nick. He felt disgusted
with himself, the encounter with the Oracle having brought up old feelings and memories
he’d long since hidden. He lifted up the key around his neck, wondering how long Grace
had held onto it before relinquishing it to the old woman. “She was right though, wasn’t
she? None of my foster parents ever wanted me. I scared them,” he said.
“How did you scare them?” Adele was brushing down their horse, and until now
hadn’t said anything. Now she stopped in what she was doing and turned around to look
at Nick, eyes wide and full of…hurt? Was she really that frightened of him now?
“With my stories,” said Nick. He sat down on a wooden trough, absently
scratching Rabbit behind the ears. “I was always making up some lie or another. And
even if they knew they were lies…even if they were sure of it…they always somehow
came true.”
Adele softened. “You were young. And nobody knows about magic over there,
isn’t that right?” she said, turning back to the mare.
“I guess,” said Nick. “But all they knew was there was something unnatural about
me. I was eight years old. I was hoping they would adopt me,” he said with a laugh, as if
the idea itself was preposterous. “Then Grace moved in and…I don’t know,” he said,
rumpling his hair. “You could tell they loved her from the moment she moved in. I could
sense it in them. She was perfect…and the worst thing about it was I loved her, too. And
when they told me they were adopting her I knew I hadn’t just lost a family—I’d lost
Grace, too.”
“But you were just a kid,” said Adele. “And it sounds like you had a pretty big
crush on her, too.”
“That’s the thing,” said Nick. He was toying with the key again. “I loved her more
than I’d ever loved anything. And because of that I hated her more than anything. The
night that it happened…that I called the Metrican…was the night before I was supposed
to be taken to my new foster home. I snuck into her room and told her I was going to tell
her a bedtime story…she always liked my stories even more than the ones in the books. I
told her a story about a beautiful princess who was perfect until an evil monster came and
took away her eyes. And then she wasn’t perfect anymore.”
“And then it came,” said Adele. “So that was what was different about you? You
control monsters. That’s why you were able to hold off those things at the mill.”
“I guess,” said Nick with a short nod.
Adele looked like she was about to say something but couldn’t figure out what
she wanted to tell him. Eventually she smiled at him. “Good night, Nick,” she said,
tossing him something as she left him behind in the stable.
He stared after her for a long moment. It occurred to him once again how
beautiful she was—and not much older than him. He thought back to the handful of girls
he had known back home, of pressing his lips to theirs in shadowy clubs and smoky hotel
bars. He wondered if she would taste sweet, or wild…
Looking at the room key she had thrown him, he shook his head. “No chance,” he
said to himself, curling up where he was.

***********************************************************************
*

As Adele settled their account with the innkeeper Nick ventured out for one final
look at the bustling market city. He watched a man herd a group of multicolored
creatures up the long and winding path, thinking back to Adele’s remark that he probably
shouldn’t ask what was in the meat pie he’d eaten.
He also thought back to the Oracle. Never in his life had Nick entertained the
possibility that one of his parents may still be alive. He was lost in these thoughts when
he felt an apple pressed into his hand.
“Thanks Adele,” he said.
“Adele that cute blond you’re with?”
Nick’s head shot up and he was face to face with the boy from yesterday. “That’s
some trick,” said Deacon, bristling with suppressed rage. “I gotta wonder where an
Outlander like you learned it.”
“I got Exiled for a reason, didn’t I?” said Nick. He turned his back on the boy,
who came scrambling after him.
“Hey man, I don’t want trouble with you,” he said. “In fact, maybe we can help
each other out here.”
“I’m not interested,” said Nick. He took a bite of the apple and tossed it down into
the dirt.
 Adele was waiting for him outside the stables. “You look angry,” she said as she
mounted. Nick grabbed her hand and pulled himself up after her.
“It’s nothing,” he said in agitation. “Some jerk named Deacon.”
“Deacon? That little demon?” she said. They were leaving the town. Nick glanced
back over his shoulder as the glass spires grew smaller behind him. His head felt heavy
all of a sudden. Chalking it up to exhaustion it let it hang down so his chin rested against
his chest.
He didn’t know how much longer it was when he realized that they had stopped.
Adele turned halfway in her saddle, shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes groggily,
staring at her as if trying to place who exactly she was. “Are you all right?” she said. Her
voice was hard and stern. It made Nick wince.
“I’m…fine,” he said. He shook his head, beginning to feel like his mouth and
nose had been stuffed with cotton.
“You’re not.” Adele leapt off the horse and pulled Nick onto the ground after her.
She pressed her fingers against his throat. Through his half-dazed state Nick heard her
curse, them disappear for a little while before returning with a philter of honey-colored
liquid. There was a rip as she tore his shirt down to his chest, and he hissed as the tip of
her dagger cut a small valley above his heart. “Drink this,” she urged, holding the glass
bottle to his mouth.
He protested weakly before letting her pour whatever it was down his throat. It
was thickly sweet and burned with an unusual fire, spreading warmth down his chest and
directly into his heart. From the cut above his heart blood began to gurgle out, a
congealed mess of black sludge. Nick watched it somewhere between horror and
fascination, detached from the mechanisms of his own body.
“Don’t sleep,” said Adele as she pulled him back up to his feet. Helping him to
the horse she sat him in front of her, galloping now across the meadows of the
Otherworld as if in search of something.
They had reached a part of the Otherworld that was absent of inhabitants. It was
absent of most life, a great expanse of rocky terrain that edged the meadows and led to
the Fields. As the sun edged below the horizon Adele finally decided to make camp,
though she seemed to struggle with the decision for a while before making it.
“Never eat anything a stranger offers you,” she told him as his fever subsided. “It
was enchanted—in taste, in texture. You’re lucky to be alive.”
As she disappeared, searching the rough landscape for something—anything—
useful, Rabbit emerged from his usual spot and moved over to where Nick lay. “She’s
right, you now. You don’t pay any attention to your own safety?”
“What does she care about my safety?” said Nick groggily.
Rabbit cocked his head. “Why else would she save you?” it asked.
“Because I’ve got you. Metricant.” He’d never thought about it before, but the
solution came to him so suddenly he couldn’t deny its truthfulness. He’d entertained
thoughts of why Adele had asked him to join her on her journey, but only now did he
come up with a plausible answer. “And she can have you.”
He laid his head back down on his pillow. He felt tired and used, again and again,
and deep in his chest the fever was waiting to rise up again. Letting it take him he passed
back into unconsciousness.
 In the middle of the night he opened his eyes, the fever broken. There was no sign
of anybody around. Adele, Rabbit, and the horse all gone. He sat up. The cut on his chest
had scabbed over, leaving behind a dark pink ridge of flesh.
“Damn,” he hissed. Unsteadily getting to his feet, he looked off to every side.
There was nobody in sight. “Adele?” he called out. There was no answer.

***********************************************************************
*
Nick walked until morning came again. He’d been left with nothing and, still sick
from the day before, he steered himself away from the fruits and berries from sparse
bushes.
He didn’t know how long he’d been walking when he emerged from the rocky
plateau and moved back into a meadow that bristled with high grass. ?He pushed over the
first hill that led into the fields and found himself transfixed by the scene before him.
The horizon curved gently upward, and at the edge of his sight curled upward and
over, the sky the same emerald green of the ground. The sun that rose high over Nick
illuminated fractions of the land where the sky opened up.
He skirted the junction, following the edge of the Fields until he came to a small,
neat in. Letting himself in the front door, he found himself faced by a giant of a man in
tan robes. “No vacancies,” said the man gruffly.
“No…I mean, I don’t want a room. Is there anybody around here who can help
me?” said Nick.
The man stared at him blankly. “Help? What kind of help?”
“I was traveling with somebody. They stole my horse, all my money. I don’t
know anything about this place.”
The man let out a bark of laughter. “Exile, are you?” he said. “You new guys sure
know how to get yourself in a mess.” He set down the paper he’d been reading from, now
looking Nick directly in the eye.
“I got a stable out back. Last boy took off. You muck it out, keep it clean, you’ll
get a corner to sleep in and food to eat. What do you say?”
Nick was put to work right away—never was he more grateful for Adele’s
thoughtful hand in medicine, despite her betrayal. But after a few hours in the stalls with
a shovel he felt pain begin to rise up from his chest. He was leaning on his shovel when a
woman entered with a steaming cauldron of hot water. “Clean yourself up,” she said,
setting it down in a sheltered corner of the room. “And join us for supper.”
Reluctantly stripping down, he washed himself as best he could. While he was
washing the door to the stable opened slightly and a pile of fresh clothes were laid out for
him. He looked at the crisp linen shirt and leather breeches. In the time he’d been in the
Otherworld he’d been surprised by the variety of clothes worn there. In the market he’d
seen Victorian corsets and top hats, and the Gypsies had worn modern shirts and jeans.
Now he was putting on something he imagined he might have seen in medieval times.
When he entered the inn the lady seated him at her own table, toward the front of
the room. “I hope you can forgive me for not introducing myself sooner,” she said,
placing his hand between both of hers. She was Asian in appearance, with wide brown
eyes and silken hair that had been bound back in an ornate knot at the back of her head. “I
am Madame Yu. The big man you met earlier is my husband.”
 “Are those the Folding Fields?” asked Nick. “I’ve heard of them a few times since
I came here. I never thought…”
Madame Yu smiled. “The names here are quiet literal dear,” she said. “The girls
are coming with soup. You look ill. Eat well,” she said,
From the low doorway that led to the kitchen came four young women that looked
so similar in appearance to Madame Yu that he was certain they were his daughters. The
youngest of them, no older than twelve, brought a tray to their table and laid out a
delicate porcelain bowl in front of Nick.
The soup itself was a thin, watery broth, and if he hadn’t been famished Nick
wouldn’t have thought it the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. He felt the cold knot
in his chest loosen and fade away, and as the second and third courses were served he
took notice of the other inhabitants surrounding him.
The one thing they had in common, because they were of every size, age and race
that he could imagine, was that they all appeared to be traveling. He saw large satchels
and worn shoes, clothes covered in dust and weapons laid idly to the side as their owners
entertained themselves with dinner.
“Does anybody live around here?” Nick asked Madame Yu.
“Only I, and Master Yu,” she said with a manic giggle. “Oh come, come, don’t
worry about things,” she said. “The Goze arrived just a little after you. It is quite the treat,
to hear the Storytellers,” she said.
After a little time had passed the fires in the room were dim, and paper barriers
pulled aside to reveal three women with strange musical instruments seated at the center
of the space. The older two were dressed in black gowns trimmed in red, their hair in
multiple braids that fell to their waist.
The youngest wore white, which glowed radiant against her honey colored
skin.Her hair fell like a satin sheet that caressed her neck. “She is beautiful, isn’t she?”
said Madame Yu.
“I guess,” he mumbled.
“The white gown denotes her as a novice,” said Madame Yu, who seemed
delighted in her role as historian. “The others are sisters, but they found her. She was
Exiled, too,” she said.
Exiled? Nick watched her as they began to play, strange oriental music that rose
up into the room and seemed to feel it to the brim. And then, on cue, the three began to
sing in harmony, their voices sweet and pure. It was the same language he’d often heard
spoken now that he’d journeyed into the Otherworld, but where it had sounded strange
and garbled before it now seemed achingly sweet to his ears.
It surprised him to find that though he couldn’t understand the words he sensed
what the song was about. Love and betrayal, and redemption—he could feel it as easily
as see the glisten in the eyes of women, stout resolve in the eyes of men.
The first song ended and the trio glided into another. After a half hour of the
entertainment Nick excused himself to Madam Yu, and slid through the small room and
back into the stables, where he pushed open the wide doors to reveal the Folding Fields
beyond.
Between the sky and earth the indigo sky appeared, the moon a perfect crescent in
the darkness. He heard footsteps. He turned and saw the girl in white. “Nicky” she finally
breathed, reaching out with one hand to brush his cheek.
 He recoiled as her eyes, which had remained closed through the performance,
now slid open, revealing silver orbs. Her hand froze on his cheek and fell down to his
chest, where she fumbled for a moment before tangling with the silver chain he’d been
given by the Oracle. “I knew you’d find it,” she said. “I knew you’d be back for me.”
“I…God…Gracie,” he murmured, taking a step back. He reached for her hand as
it clutched around the key, meaning to push it away. But instead he held it, transfixed by
how warm and small it seemed to him. “How do you…you’re blind,” he finally gasped.
“Mostly,” she said. Her lips curved into a smile. “There are other ways to see,
though.”
Realizing that he was still holding on to her Nick dropped her hand, taking a step
back. “I don’t know…how can I ever make you forgive me?” he said.
He didn’t know why or how but there was no doubt in his mind that the girl was
Grace. Even if she hadn’t been the right age, or if he hadn’t known the dimples that
deepened in her cheeks when she smiled, he would always be certain he would have
known.
“Forgive you?” Grace now closed her eyes. “Why? I’ve never been angry. You
were my best friend.”
“Don’t say that.” Nick, confused, walked away from her into the high grass.
When he was several feet away from her he looked back. She was standing where he’d
left her, hands clutched together.
“Why do you say that?” he said.
“It’s true,” said Grace.
“I did a horrible thing to you,” said Nick.
“You didn’t mean to,” she said. She started forward into the grass, pitching
forward as her foot caught something hidden in the grass. He darted forward to help her
and ended up falling underneath her.
“I did,” he said. He stared up into her face, hardly able to see her in the darkness.
“Grace, you shouldn’t have ended up here. You’re not even like me…”
“I awasn’t,” she said, interrupting him, “back then. I’ve changed, Nick. So have
you.”
Nick couldn’t move, overwhelmed by shock and the heavy pains that remained in
his chest. Grace bent over, her lips a fraction away from his, and he was almost certain
she was going to kiss him when she turned her face and nestled her cheek into his
shoulder, sighing. “I really have missed you,” she said. “Do you think I can stay with
you?” she asked.
“No.” Nick finally sat up and Grace shifted so that she was sitting beside him. “I
have to go to the Hinterlands. The Oracle said—“
“She said your father was there. And she told me I would be your guide.”
As she lay with her head on Nick’s shoulder the sun crested over the edge of the
hill, casting streaks of gold across the darkened land. With a sigh he curled his arms
around her. He thought of all those who had betrayed him, wondering if he could ever
forgive them. The answer wouldn’t come,.
“Whatever happens, I’ll protect you,” he whispered.
***********************************************************************
*
 Solomon tugged against his restraints, although he already knew that trying to
escape them was useless. He was alone in the small, dark cell of the Magician’s Court
and had been for four days, as far as he was able to tell. Leaning back against the hard
stone wall, he debated with himself about how a person in his condition should be
feeling.
There was the fact that he had betrayed his best friend, however inadvertently it
had been. There was the fact that his best friend knew nothing about the ‘inadvertent’ part
of it. And there was the fact that of the little he knew about his current state, the words
‘death sentence’ had been thrown around a little too much for his liking.
After a little debate Solomon finally decided that he was completely justified in
feeling sorry for himself.
There was a single window in the room, halfway up the wall. Through it Solomon
had been able to track the passing of day and night. As he caught sight of the crescent
moon he wondered if Nick was still in the same world, or if he’d already been forced into
Exile.
The shadows against the walls shifted and deepened as night pressed forward. He
was watching the stars when he heard keys rattling against the door. The massive door
shifted inward and a man entered. Solomon thought vaguely that he recognized him from
somewhere, though he wasn’t part of the regular detachment of Guards that oversaw his
imprisonment. And then it struck him—he was one of the men that had taken Nick.
“I’ve already had dinner,” he said, turning away from the man in as defiant a
gesture he could manage with chains and cuffs holding him in place.
He heard the man pause in the middle of the cell, then turn and push the door
firmly back in place. “Nicholas was sent to the Shadowlands three days ago,” he said
after several moments of awkward silence. Solomon exhaled slowly.
“You didn’t hurt him?” he said with a tinge of disgust in his voice.
“I don’t hurt children” the man retorted.
Solomon heard the man come over and sit down next to him with an immense
sigh. “I was the one who took the little girl in after she was attacked,” said the man. “She
never once blamed Nick for what happened. She didn’t understand why he should be in
trouble.”
“I was wondering that too,” shot back Solomon. He was wondering why the man
had come in to talk to him—briefly considered that he might be questioning him,
although Solomon hadn’t even known Nick until years after the attack…what did he have
to tell that would be of any importance? But the man didn’t seem to have any real motive,
and once again fell silent. “He a good kid?” he finally asked.
“Yeah…I mean, I guess. We did some bad things,” he added cautiously.
The man chuckled softly. “Yeah…but I’d hardly say a little jewel thievery now
and then merits you a spot as the most wanted Magicians in the world.”
“Most wanted?” said Solomon. “What, was that on a list somewhere?”
“Yeah,” said the man. “It was.”
Solomon whistled slowly, unable to help being impressed even in the situation he
was in. “Well, that’s something,” he said.
“Now, I want to help you kid, but you gotta do something for me.”
 There was something in the man’s tone of voice that made Solomon spin around.
As he watched the glamour the man was using faded. What was left was a tall and thin,
awkward man in his fifties. Solomon chocked in surprise, finally gasping out, “Ridley!”
The man chuckled. “Took you long enough to spot me. Thought I’d taught you
better, boy,” he said.
There was loud jingling as the man reached forward with the keys and unlocked
the cuffs. The chains disappeared as the silver bracelets fell to the ground. Simon rubbed
at his wrists, then looked back at Ridley.
“So you really are a member of the Guard?”
“Well, I was,” the man drawled in amusement, “but it looks like I just turned in
my resignation papers.”
“Did you set us up?” asked Solomon sharply.
“Did I ever ask what business you boys were getting into?” he shot back. When
Solomon looked at him he raised his eyebrows above the rim of his glasses, tapping his
temple knowingly. “Look,” he said finally, “I won’t say I didn’t know who Nicholas
Swift was. I just meant to keep an eye on the boy, make sure he didn’t get in any worse
trouble. And make sure the Court never found him,” he added.
“You did a hell of a job,” said Solomon.
“I don’t have to let you out of here,” warned Ridley. Solomon turned back to look
at him.
“Sorry,” he said. “It’s just…”
“I know,” interrupted Ridley. “This is why you’re going to come with me into the
Walks and find him.”
Solomon considered for a moment before shaking his head. “Yeah, all right,” he
said. “But how exactly do you plan on doing it?”
“I owe a man a favor,” muttered Ridley cryptically. “Come on. You don’t have
any powers right now so you’re going to stick close and do what I say.”
Though the cell Solomon had been kept in was almost medieval, the long hall
looked like it had been modeled out of a corporate handbook. The tan tiled floors, beige
walls and ceiling made him think he was heading down a hospital corridor. Solomon was
aware of a charm whooshing over him as they passed the group of Guards that patrolled
the front door.
“Night,” one of them called out after them as they made their way out to the
expansive parking lot-in-a-forest.
Ridley waved at him and went to a black Jeep. “Get in,” he muttered under his
breath as he yanked open the driver’s side door. Solomon scrambled in and crawled to the
passenger side before Ridley hopped in and slammed the door after him.
“How long do we have until they find out I’m missing?” he said, trying to sound
casual.
“About five minutes,” the man replied. He glanced over at Solomon. “We’re
going to be driving really fast, and if you’re afraid of heights you better close your eyes.”
The Jeep cut quickly through the forest path, hitting the main road at almost a
hundred miles per hour.
“Why aren’t there any other cars?” asked Solomon as they barreled down the
highway.
 “It’s late,” said Ridley. Then, after a long moment, he smiled. “And there may
have been pretty big accident up North. Nothing fatal, of course,” he added.
Exactly five minutes after leaving the prison a wailing tone filled the car.
Solomon picked up a small white cylinder. “This mean they’ve noticed?” he said.
“Uh…yeah,” said Ridley. He took the communicator from Solomon and pressed a
button, sending the window down. He tossed it out onto the side of the road and Solomon
turned to watch as it shattered with a shower of sparks on the road behind them.
“So what did you mean about that fear of heights thing?” said Solomon.
“I meant that you should hold on,” said Ridley. They were riding down a steep
hill and when they had almost hit the bottom of the crest Ridley slammed on the brakes,
sending them into a massive fishtail that spun the Jeep around. Then, accelerating at a
massive rate the Jeep rose up over the hill and, when they should have turned into a
massive curve, lifted off from the ground.
Around the two front seats there was a massive squeal of metal on metal.
Solomon started, and glancing at the side-view mirror saw the body of the car twisting
and folding in on itself, large wings breaking out on either side to propel them higher into
the sky. “Neat trick,” Solomon said.
“Yeah. Bet I’d make a killing on the strip,” he said.
“So where is this place?” said Solomon, watching as the ground disappeared
below them.
“About five hours driving…maybe an hour in the air,” he said, releasing the
steering wheel and sitting back.
“Then maybe you should spend the next hour telling me exactly what we’re going
to protect Nick from,” said Solomon.
Ridley didn’t say anything, and after a few minutes Solomon was certain he
wasn’t going to. Finally he shifted in his seat and sighed. “I don’t know where to begin,”
he said. “I became interested in the Swift case after taking care of Graciela before her
trial. She said some things that interested me, so I kept an eye on what others were saying
about him. It was Bane who made me realize that there may be something else going on.
Bane believed that Nick Swift was born in the Shadow Walks,” he said.
“But nobody…”
“Nobody leaves the Walks who can’t hide it very well, and whoever hid Nick
here wanted it done very well,” said Ridley.
Their conversation ended suddenly as the Jeep hit a pocket of air, sending them
into a brief bout of turbulence. When Ridley surfaced Solomon was lost in thought. “So
somebody sent him here. But why?”
“Why do we send people into Exile?” said Ridley. “Protection. To protect people
over here from the people over there.”
“So you think Nick is in danger over there?” Solomon shook his head. “It doesn’t
make sense. How would anybody know that Nick had been born there?
But before he even finished what he was saying he thought about the monster in
the museum. Nick had been able to control it…completely, without question. Of the few
Otherworld monsters ever to make their way into the regular world nobody had ever been
able to control them. Nobody but Nick.
“Figuring it all out?” said Ridley as he saw the look come over Solomon’s face.
“Yeah. I think,” he said. He sat back, glaring into a starlit night.
 The Jeep began it’s descent on its own, swerving downward toward the edge of
the forest. Ridley came back to attention as they sped toward the ground. Solomon’s heart
raced until, a moment before impact, the entire vehicle felt like it had hit a pocket of air.
It gently dropped onto the ground and, following Ridley’s example, Solomon rolled out
the door and jogged after him under the high canopy of the forest. They didn’t speak as
they pressed through the woods. Solomon wouldn’t have noticed the Gatekeeper if
Ridley hadn’t stopped.
He blinked through the darkness at the old man who sat on a wooden chair in the
middle of the woods, guarding a door that opened into the earth.
“You’re a bit early,” said the man, checking his list. “As for you, you aren’t
scheduled to travel this way.”
“Plans change,” said Ridley. “We’re with Nicholas Swift.”
“Ah, so I see,” said the old man. He stood stiffly. “Getting too old for this,” he
said as he reached down and pulled on the door. Solomon blinked at the earth for a
moment.
“After you,” said Ridley. Solomon, judging by Ridley’s expression that there was
no way out anymore, went over to stand on the flattened dirt that had been exposed by the
lifting of the door. He was caught between surprise and expectance when he began to
sink, and feeling it press against his face finally dropped into a dark stone cavern.
He brushed the dirt from his clothes, waiting for Ridley to come after him. “Think
I’ll get my powers back anytime soon?” he asked as Ridley created a ball of light that
sent a faint glow through the dark space.
“I don’t know. I’m new at this myself.”
They passed through the dark cave and into a star-filled night. “So where do we
go from here?” he asked.
“One minute.” Solomon reached into his pocket, pulling out the leatherbound
book that had been a source of so much trouble just a week or so earlier. “The bestiary?”
he asked.
“There’s a map,” said Ridley, opening to the center of the book. Solomon glanced
over at it.
“Kind of a weird map,” he said. The center of the drawing was topped by a neat
mirror image, with small arrows connecting one and the other. “Think it’s accurate?”
“We’ll find out,” said Ridley. “It says there’s a small village this way,” he said.
The pair of them moved off, unbeknownst to them, in the opposite of the direction that
Nick had taken three days before.
***********************************************************************
“Graciela cannot go with you.” The elder of the Goze sisters sat with her arms
folded severely across her chest. Her sister stood behind her. They were identical to the
marks that covered their faces. Nick could only tell them apart by the thick velveteen
cloth the younger sister wore across her eyes, and by their voices.
“It’s my decision,” said Grace. She sat at the sisters’ feet. Since the night before
she had changed into jeans and a white shirt.
Nick was sitting at the table across from them. The women intimidated him more
than he was willing to admit. There was something penetrating about the way they spoke
to him. Though both were blind he got the unmistakable impression that they were
dissecting him simply by sharing the room.
 “This boy is the one who hurt you,” said the younger sister. Her voice was the
unmistakable lilt of flutes, softer and more delicate than her sister.
“Which is why I must go with him. Nobody was damaged more by what
happened than Nick was. I have to help him. He’ll never make it across the Folding
Fields without me.”
“What about you?” said Nick suddenly. The three women turned to stare at him.
“I don’t have to see to know the Fields,” said Grace. Her tone had turned slightly
defensive, but Nick knew it was as much directed to her caretakers as it was to him.
“But you’re only a child,” said the elder sister.
“No older than you were when you left on your own,” said Grace. The younger
sister leaned over and whispered something. “Give us a moment,” she said when she
straightened. Grace got to her feet and Nick followed her from the room out into the long
hallway.
Nick was lost in thought. When Grace finally moved over and brushed her hand
against his collar he shook his head. “This was all a mistake,” he said. “I shouldn’t have
asked you to go with me.”
“Why not?” Grace cocked her head as she usually did when she was listening to
Nick speak. He stated to put together an argument but it failed when she put her hand
over his. “Nick, I know you don’t understand but your past…who you are…it has
something to do with all of this. I want to help you figure it out for you. But I want to
figure it out for me, too.”
With a sigh, he nodded. “But if it gets dangerous I want you to promise me you’ll
leave. I don’t want to hurt you again,” he added.
“Why does it matter?” she said. “You don’t even know me anymore?
Remember?”
With his words thrown back at him, Nick felt sick at his stomach. He was trying
to work up something to say to Grace but the door to the sisters’ room opened before he
could choke it out. The younger sister stood there. “If it pleases her, Grace may leave us,”
she said. “We have a few small gifts for you. Please take them with our gratitude.”
“This isn’t goodbye forever,” said Grace. She fell forward, and Nick watched as
the sister cautiously put her arms around the girl.
“Let’s hope it isn’t,” she said softly.
Grace parted from the woman reluctantly. “If you’re going to leave I suggest you
do so this afternoon,” she said after a moment. “The journey to the Hinterlands is three
days. From the south wind I felt last night I believe a storm will blow in by the end of the
week.”
Thanking her, Grace turned back to Nick. “She’s right,” she said. “If we don’t
leave now we may be stuck here for a week, or longer.”
“Grace…”
Before he could say anything to her she had disappeared down the hall. He was
toying with the key around his neck, agitated and uncertain of what to do next. He was
suddenly wishing that Adele was still with him as his guide, and beginning to wonder if
he hadn’t been too quick to assume that she had simply left him out on the marsh. She
had saved his life, after all. Why would she have wanted to abandon him? In fact, hadn’t
she said she’d needed him?
 Pushing the thoughts away, he went back to the stable to together what little of his
things he had. Madame Yu was there, tending to a slender Stag with a golden hide.
“Thanks for letting me stay the night,” he said as he hefted his bag over his shoulder.
Madame Yu shook her head. “It was no trouble. I wish that I could do more to
help you.”
“You’ve done enough,” he said. He walked over to her, cautiously skirting the
space around the animal.
“He’s harmless,” said Madame Yu. “Master Yu bought him for my birthday. Why
don’t you pet him?” she offered.
Too indebted to her to refuse, Nick reached out and brushed his fingertips against
the creature’s neck. It moved slightly in its pen, swinging its head down to stare at him.
“He’s amazing,” he finally said.
The lady smiled. Suddenly Nick felt himself regretting the way he’d been
thinking about her the day before. Now, away from the bustle of her business she was
more subdued—motherly, perhaps. He moved away from the stag. “Can I ask you
something?” he said, surprising himself.
Madame Yu turned to look at him. “Yes?”
“Well…” Nick had to think for a moment of how best to phrase what he wanted
to ask. Finally deciding that, in this case at least, honesty was the easiest route to success,
he told her of his visit to the Oracle. It came out in one long breath, and by the time he
finished Madame Yu returned to her brushing. “So you mean to ask me if I ever saw a
woman and her child pass through here?” she asked. “This is a very busy inn. I don’t
remember everybody who passes through.”
“Oh,” said Nick, more crestfallen than he wanted to admit. “Well, thank you…”
“Wait. I didn’t say I don’t remember. In fact, I remember them quite clearly.” She
sighed. “Don’t say a word of this to my husband, or to anyone who you happen to meet,”
she warned. “For many years I have given shelter to those seeking to quit the Walks,” she
said. “For both those born here and those who were Exiled. Your mother…or, the woman
I believe to be your mother…was high born.”
“My mother?” Nick felt like his mind was filled with clouds—like there was
something he should know but couldn’t uncover.
“Madeline Swift,” said Madame Yu. “She came here from the Folding Fields, and
before then the Hinterlands. She said her husband had been taken prisoner and she feared
for the life of her son.”
“A prisoner? Where?”
Madame Yu shook her head. “For most of us the Hinterlands are as mysterious a
place as the Walks are to you,” she said. “All I know is that the poor woman looked as if
she’d seen death, and her son was no older than a week.”
“Thank you,” said Nick. He was beginning to walk away when he heard Madame
Yu approaching him.
“Just one more thing,” she said. “This key.” She picked it up from where it lay
against his chest. “She seemed to think it was very important. I’m not sure why. But if
you’re going to find you father you had better figure it out, and soon.”
Nick thanked her again, and went back into the main entrance where only a day
before he had come rushing in out of the rain. Grace was standing there. Nick’s eyes
trailed down to her bare feet. “Aren’t you going to put on any shoes?” he asked.
 “I don’t like shoes,” she said, smiling cryptically. The sisters were nowhere to be
seen and when he asked Grace if they should wait for them she told him they had already
said their goodbyes. With a final farewell to Madame Yu and her husband, Nick and
Grace left the inn in the middle of nowhere and set out directly toward the Fields, where
—hopefully—answers waited for them.

***********************************************************************
*

“Aren’t you worried about monsters?”

Grace smiled, wrapping her arms around her crossed knees. “I’ve seen the worst
kind of monster there is,” she said simply.
“You mean…”
“No.” Grace’s answer was short and fierce, and Nick felt himself startled by it.
“People are a lot worse than things with claws and fangs,” she said, laughing as if she’d
just said something funny. “Did you ever know what happened to my parents?” she
asked. Nick told her that he hadn’t.
“They were both dead by the time I met you,” she said. “I guess your story is a lot
more interesting. You have monsters and parallel universes, and all that.” She sighed.
“Well?” said Nick after a long moment, when it seemed like she wasn’t going to
say anything else.
“Like I said, nothing really interesting. My dad was a drug dealer. He got shot
before I was born. My mom gave me up because she was too the stuff that got my dad in
trouble. She overdosed when I was six.”
“I guess we had a lot in common, back then,” said Nick. It was unbelievable to
him that it felt natural, this reminiscing, but it did. “Do you remember how the Wilsons
used to wake us up every Saturday morning? So we wouldn’t miss our favorite
cartoons?”
Grace laughed. “And your favorite was the one with the talking dog,” she said.
Her smile brightened.
“It wasn’t a talking dog,” Nick protested, “it was a talking superhero dog,” he
said. Grace’s laugh rang out into the silence and Nick found himself grinning like an idiot
and…somehow…wishing that she could see it. Wishing that she could know he hadn’t
smiled like that in a very long time.
“Remember that time we all went to the zoo?” said Grace. “I wanted to see the
elephants and you wanted to see the lions.”
Nick thought back to that day, so many years ago. The memory brought back just
as much sadness as it did joy. That day had taken place just a week before the Metricant
had attacked.
“We couldn’t agree which one to see first,” said Nick. “We were arguing with
each other and the Wilsons were getting embarrassed. Finally Mr. Wilson took us both
over to see the kangaroos first.”
“Then we went ahead and saw the elephants. Because you wanted to,” said Grace.
“Yeah. Because I didn’t want to hear you whine anymore.” Grace felt for his arm
and when she found it punched him lightly, her laughter growing softer. “You really were
the best friend I ever had,” she said.
 I…” Nick suddenly had a million things he wanted to say and couldn’t say any of
them. “You meant a lot to me, too,” he finally got out, even though it didn’t even come
close to what he wished he could tell her.
How could he admit that he had hurt her so badly because he’d loved her? That
he’d wanted to damage her because he thought maybe…just maybe…the Wilsons
wouldn’t adopt her and they’d both go to a new foster home together. And find parents
that didn’t care that they were different…
He shook his head. Thoughts like that were dangerous and…worse…touched to
close to the worst things he thought about himself.
“Grace,” he whispered softly. She turned her head to him, and he wondered if she
could tell how close he was to her. He leaned in and, inch by inch, willed himself to close
the distance and just kiss her. He paused when his eyes were on level with hers.
“Nick.” Her eyes flashed open, and he saw something searching in the gray
clouds. “Please,” she gasped. And closing the final space between them he let his lips
touch hers, pressing hard and deep. Grace’s hands rose up to tangle in his hair and,
pressing her down into the soft grass, he let his own hands find the soft curve of her
waist.
“Wait.” He jumped back, leaving her lying on the ground. Her eyes closed again
and her lips curved.
“I’ve been dreaming of you kissing me for years,” she said.
“What do you mean?” he said. His mind felt heavy and dull. He leaned forward.
“I haven’t even seen you since we were eight. How--?”
“I’ve seen you,” said Grace. “Many, many times. We’ve always been meant to be
together. Nick…”
He couldn’t stay to listen to her. Not when he was so confused, not when the only
things he could feel where still betrayal and anger and hurt.
They had not ventured far into the Fields, and from where they had made their
camp the earth that folded above them didn’t completely block out the sky. He looked at
the faint line where heaven and earth met, focusing his gaze on a withered old tree that
shivered in a breeze so high above him he couldn’t feel it. A leaf fell fluttered from its
branches, dancing in the wind until it fell, twirling down toward him.
It landed on his shoulder, a moment before Grace came back toward him. She
knelt down beside him, pressing her hand to his chest. “I feel this,” she said. “I feel
everything about you. I know how hurt you are right now. If you need time I won’t say
another word.”
He stared back up at the sky, unwilling or unable to look at her. “Thank you,” was
all he could manage.
“We need to sleep,” she said. “Don’t bother with a fire. There’s nothing out there
that can hurt us.”
Before long he heard her soft breathing and knew she was asleep. He sat back up,
agitated and unable to sleep. Leaving Grace where she was Nick picked up his pack and
moved away from her, rummaging through it until he found a small shard of glass. The
something that had been troubling him now came back full force. Whether or not Adele
had left him willingly he knew he had to double back and find her.
 He mulled the idea over in the hours before dawn, making up his mind just as the
sun broke over the horizon. He told Grace just after she woke up, and with a small smile
she nodded her assent.
So rather than heading deeper into the Fields they veered off to the east, and
toward the marshlands that edged the Fields and the Borderlands.

***********************************************************************
*

Adele struggled to control her breathing lest her would-be captors heard her. She
was halfway up a rotted tree, praying the ancient wood didn’t give way until after she’d
leapt down and made a run for it.
She’d been playing this cat and mouse game for the better part of two days, ever
since the night she’d saved Nick’s life after their escape from the city. In the satchel at
her back she could feel the Bog Rabbit trembling, though it too knew to stay silent as
they waited.
“He can’t have gone far.” Deacon moved into her line of vision, tugging at the
black leather of his gloves. Adele wished suddenly that she only had time to reach for the
arrows at her back. But she knew that if she even tried it the boy would have a dagger
deep in her throat before she even had her own arrow cocked.
It had been quick thinking that had led her to shield Nick on the night of the
attack. Clever thinking to send him deep into unconsciousness and lay the hidden trail
that had Deacon following her instead. But now she was all out of ideas, other than
waiting for a chance to assassinate the assassin, as it were.
A second boy, who looked entirely like the first, came up beside Deacon. “There
are a number of false trails circling the area,” he said. “Probably the gypsy.”
Deacon snorted. “Right. Well, if you see the dirty traveler slit her throat,” he said
nonchalantly. “He’s the only one we need and I don’t think he’ll get far without her.”
The Rabbit shivered at her back. She wished, more than anything now, that she
had paid attention to the thief that had troubled Nick back in the market city. It was her
fault that they had been pursued.
She watched Deacon as he moved through the small expanse of forest. Her arms
were growing weak and she didn’t know how much longer she could hold herself up. It
was with relief that she finally saw him move off in another direction.
After a terrible wait, to be certain he didn’t return, Adele dropped from the tree
and ran as quickly and silently as she could in the opposite direction.
Ignoring the sting as sharp branches tore against her calves, she kept her eyes
trained toward the tree line up ahead. But before she managed to burst out into the bright
sun she felt a sharp pain in her thigh. Gasping, she fell to the ground, rolling over just in
time to keep Deacon from sinking his second blade deep into her chest.
“I have you, Huntress,” he said teasingly.
Adele spat at him. His eyes closed, jaw clenched before he began laughing.
“Clever, little mouse,” he said. She hissed as he drove the dagger piercing her thigh in
further before yanking it out. He held it up for her to see, her blood coating the stone
blade. “Now, I’m certain you’ve done something with your little friend, and he isn’t the
one hiding in your satchel…”
 He started chittering as he pulled open the pack that Adele had dropped when she
fell. He cursed and dropped it, and Rabbit slid out. Through her pain-dazed eyes it
seemed to Adele that he had grown fiercer in appearance. His eyes were red and its fur
bristled with rage.
“Another little game, mouse?” he said. Roughly he flipped her over, pressing a
knee into her back as he wound a length of rope around her hands. He had just began to
yank her back to her feet when a booming voice filled the woods with sound.
“I’d release her if I were you,” it said.
Deacon froze with a sneer on his face. “That you Outworlder?” he called out.
“I’ll bet I aint the Outworlder you’re looking for, but I’ll take it.” Ridley stepped
forward, his dagger held outstretched. “I don’t know who you are, but even in the Walks
I don’t think it’s very nice to take young girls hostage like that.”
“Mind your own business, and you won’t get hurt old man.”
“Old man.” Ridley considered it for a second and nodded. “I may be old. But
there’s something to be said for experience. And I’ve got plenty.”
Deacon tossed Adele back to the ground. She tried to pay attention to what was
being said but she could only think about the pain. She heard the assassin speaking to a
stranger…who could it be? She was trying to pull herself out of the haze when she felt
somebody pulling her back up, the pressure on her wrists vanishing as she was untied.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” said a young man’s voice.
Solomon pulled Adele out of the line of fire just as the ground beneath Deacon’s
feet began to rumble ominously. The boy glanced down nervously. “What the hell?” he
gasped just as the surface broke and shifted upward, sending him flying several feet
backward. “Let’s get out of here,” Ridley suggested, and holding Adele as if his life
depended on it (and hers really did) they made for the edge of the marsh and the border of
the Fields.
“Uh…should I take care of this or should you?” was the first thing she
remembered hearing as she shifted back into consciousness and the shock left her. The
boy… Simon?...was sitting beside her, putting pressure on her leg.
“My pack…there should be a poultice in one of the bottles,” Adele said, laying
back with a sigh. She heard a rip and when she looked up the older man was tearing the
seam of her pants from the ankle up. She got her first good look at the wound then. It
wasn’t the worst she’d ever seen, though it was definitely the worst she’d ever had. She
groaned as the man…Ridley…cleaned the wound.
“Give me that Solomon,” he said, reaching out to take the jar the boy had found.
He unscrewed the top, sniffing gingerly at the mustard-yellow paste. “You make this
yourself?” he asked her.
“My mother…oh!” she cried out as he pressed back against her flesh, reaching in
with the tips of his fingers to extract a shard of stone that had buried itself deep in the
wound.
“Sorry,” the man muttered, scooping out half the contents of the jar and smearing
it over the wound. He covered this with a clean white bandage that he pulled out of a
paper package.
“Band-Aid?” she read aloud. “Is that a healer?”
Solomon glanced at the old man. “Kind of,” he said. “Band-Aid has healed many
wounds.”
 “Don’t be a smart ass,” muttered Ridley, ripping off the last of the gauze and
securing it. “You in pain?” he asked.
“Not enough to matter.” She slowly pulled herself up so that she was sitting, and
better able to look at the two men. “You’re Exiles too?” she asked, noting the dress of the
younger of the two, who she guessed to be about her age.
As if noticing how out of place he looked for the first time, Solomon glanced
down at his leather jacket and motorcycle boots. “Looks like it,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said with a sigh. She closed her eyes for a moment and then
they flashed open. She cursed herself for almost forgetting about Nick. “Have you seen a
young boy around here? Another Exile—you may even know him. Deacon and his
brother were after him.”
“A young…geez,” said Solomon. “She can’t mean Nick can she?”
Her eyes widened. “Nicholas Swift,” she said. “He said that he came here alone.”
“He did,” said Ridley.
“We weren’t too far behind, though,” added Solomon.
With a great strength of will Adele stumbled up to her feet, letting Solomon catch
her when she stumbled. “I’ve got to find him,” she said.
“You’ll do no such thing,” said Ridley. “Nick is our concern. I won’t let a young
girl like you…”
“I’m sorry…sir, I’m thankful you saved me,” said Adele, feeling a brief sort of
panic rising in her, “but you can’t tell me what to do. I swore to protect Nick when we
left together. I can’t break that promise.”
“I’m sure he’d forgive you…”
“No,” said Adele forcefully. “I didn’t promise him. I promised my mother.”
“So I was right.” Ridley scratched at his stubble.”You’d be Cora’s girl.”
“That’s right,” she said with surprise. Her gaze went back now from the one man,
who was anxiously supporting her as if she were some fragile thing, to the other, who
was gazing thoughtfully into the distance. “How do you know my mother?”
“Don’t really. Ran into your people,” he said, “and had some words with her. You
know what he is then, don’t you?” he said.
Adele nodded, slowly. “I didn’t tell him,” she added.
“That’s good.”
“Tell him what?” She started to hear Solomon speak. When she turned to look at
him he had a half-wild look on his face.
“He’s the son,” said Ridley, choosing his words carefully, “of somebody who is
very important to the people down here.
“What?” said Solomon. “Is he a prince or something.”
Ridley turned his head away. Adele, weak and defeated and sick with worry, was
the one who answered.
“Yes,” she sighed. “Yes, he is.”

*****************************************************************
*

A long time ago there was a kingdom that was destroyed in a day.
 The man who ruled this kingdom was a good and kind king, and would have done
anything he could to protect his people. When the monsters came he fought valiantly to
defeat them, but his numbers were small and his people grew weary of fighting. They had
heard of another world, one ruled by science and by law. A world that wouldn’t succumb
to ritual and dark magic.
So it came to pass that the kingdom was defeated not by anarchy, but by apathy.
With only a dozen of his most loyal knights remaining inside the walls of his vast
kingdom he ordered his remaining subjects to flee beneath the morning sun. Then,
leaving the knights to keep the halls, he rode into the City of Darkness.
His greatest enemy lived here, in a castle as strong and majestic as his own. The
King asked for entry and was made prisoner. The monsters, overjoyed in the mighty
king’s surrender, shaved the man’s hand and forced him into peasants rags, and for every
night within a year he was paraded up and down the cobbled paths of the City, until his
proud eyes grew weary and his body slumped with pain and age.
It was only when he had been fully broken that the Lord of the City came to him,
to boast of his triumph. And it was only then that the Lord of the City saw the faint gleam
of triumph that glittered in the King’s eyes, and knew that he had lost.
For a year the King had slept in the cold dungeon of his host, every day letting his
noble blood into the cold river that flowed like an artery through the fortress. For a year
the river had been fortified with the King’s powers. For a year the monsters of the city
had lived in, bathed in, and drank the waters of the river, until the life of the battered and
broken king became their own.
The King rose up, and commanded the Lord of the City to leave it forever. With
the man’s blood stirring deep within his veins he had no choice but to obey.
In that moment the good and honest king became the commander of darkness. He
lived in the shadows until he bore a son; and that son one day bore a son.
And so it continued, for centuries. The people of the Shadow Walks knew little of
the nobility. Only that because it existed they were able to survive.
One year, as the chosen queen proceeded toward the Hinterlands, a bolt of light
crossed between both sides of the Folding Fields and struck a Yew tree, splitting it in
neatly into two perfect halves. The fortunetellers saw this as a sign, and surely enough
when the Queen became with child she bore two sons.
The firstborn became King and his brother ventured out into the world, making
his fortune. But seeing his brother walk free around their land, while every day he gave
his blood into the river, the elder brother grew spiteful and cold. He began to realize that
just as he could contain the monsters, he could command them.
And be began to wonder about the vast world beyond
He disappeared in the night. Nobody knew when or where he went. As for the
second brother, he took his place in the Dark City. But it wasn’t enough for him to let his
blood, as his ancestors had done. His brother’s hold over the creatures was strong, and all
the brother could do was keep them at bay.
The second brother, while journeying into the world, bore a son. Though none
knew how, or why, the child disappeared before his first birthday, as did his mother.
“He’s on his way.”
The King looked up from his throne at his captor, his labored breathing echoing
through the dark chamber. He fought for words, struggling with the heaviness of his
tongue. “Leave…him…” he managed before his strength gave out and he fell back with a
gasp.
“Now, brother,” said the other man, closing the distance between them. “You
shouldn’t work yourself up like that.” His voice was silk, echoing through the chamber.
Shadow creatures watched in the darkness, hissing and slithering through the darkness.
“It’s time your son met his father,” he added, dark eyes glinting into the night.

*****************************************************************
*

Nick woke with a start, heart pounding. As he sat up he tried to remember the
dream he’d been having but it slipped away, leaving him unsettled. He took a few deep
breaths to steady himself and pushed away the blanket that covered him. Grace was
sleeping nearby, and suddenly restless he stood and walked away from her.
From the moment he’d been forced into the Walks, Nick had been overcome by
the feeling that he was missing something—a mystery that was waiting just below the
surface of his consciousness. Since entering the Fields the feeling had grown stronger.
He kept telling himself that once he reached the Hinterlands everything would
click into place. At least, he hoped that would be the case.
Standing at the edge of the camp, arms folded across his chest, he stared off into
the night. Although it was too dark to see it now, a massive tree marked the Fields above
them. It had been split in half, by lighting probably, a long time before. As he stood
there, trying to make out the shape of it in the darkness above, a thin man came
shambling toward him.
“Ahoy!” the man called. Nick took a step back, squinting to get a clear picture of
the newcomer. Just as he was starting to come up with an escape plan the light of their
fire darted over the man’s face and he was struck with recognition.
“Ridley?” he said in astonishment. “What the—“
“Don’t get too excited, little bro,” came another voice from behind Ridley. “We
all now how you get when you’re worked up.”
“Solomon?” Nick stared in shock as his old friend appeared as if out of nowhere
—especially as he’d been more that certain he’d never seen him again.
“In the flesh,” said Solomon. He sprinted toward Nick and lifted him from the
ground in a bear hug. “Thought you could outrun me did you?”
“Kind of,” said Nick, head swimming. “I guess. Not really…what the hell are you
doing here?”
“We’re here saving your scrawny little butt.” Solomon clapped him on the
shoulder. “By the way, we brought company,” he said.
“Company?” muttered Nick dully. He glanced back down the hill. After a few
moments he saw a blonde girl limping up the hill. “Adele?”
The girl looked back up at him, smiling. She waved as she made her way up the
final expanse of grass, reaching out for Solomon to catch her as the last of her strength
waned. “Thank goodness you’re safe,” she said.
“I don’t get it,” said Nick. He was shaking his head, dazed.
 “It’s simple,” said Ridley. He had taken a seat around Nick’s dying fire and was
poking at it with a large branch, stirring the embers to life. “We came to the Walks
looking to help you. The gypsies pointed us toward Adele. Adele pointed us to you.”
“I knew you were headed to the Hinterlands,” she explained.
Nick started to say something else but was interrupted when all three of them
turned at the same moment. He turned too and saw Grace sitting up, head tilted their way.
“Pleased to meet you,” she said with a smile.
“Oh…everybody…” Nick scratched his head. “This is Grace,” he said.
Solomon was the only one of the group to express any surprise in what Nick said.
Ridley gave her a gruff greeting and Adele introduced herself from where she’d been
seated. “What happened to your leg?” asked Grace as she moved closer to the fire.
“How did she—“ started Solomon, earning an elbow in the ribs from Ridley.
“There are two assassins,” said Adele. “Hired to capture Nick. I think they’re still
coming after us.”
“How unfortunate,” murmured Grace.
“We haven’t heard from them since we left ‘em in the woods,” said Ridley. He
turned his attention to the girl then. “I don’t know if you’d remember me—“ he began.
“I know who you are,” said Grace. “Mr. Cavender.”
Ridley’s face twitched. “You just came very close to a smile, old man,” taunted
Solomon.
“Call me old man again and I’ll be forced to remind you why you don’t harass
Magicians,” he said with a sneer.
“Adele should sleep,” said Grace after a little more conversation. “She’s
exhausted.”
Nick turned to look at her. Adele’s face was white and, just as Grace had said, her
eyelids were drifting closed, lashes fluttering across her cheeks. “She’s right,” said Nick
when Adele began to protest. With Solomon’s help she was laid out to sleep and soon
after Grace joined her, so that only the three men were left around the fire.
“I owe you something,” said Nick after a few moments.
“Yeah?” said Solomon, just a second before his head snapped back as Nick’s fist
plowed into it. “Damn it!” he choked as a river of blood started gushing from his nose.
“What was that for?”
“You betrayed me, even if you didn’t know the Court was behind it,” he hissed.
“Now boys, beating each other senseless won’t solve anything,” said Ridley.
“You little worm!” Solomon abandoned his bleeding nose and threw himself at
Nick, punching him hard in the shoulder. Their scuffle barely lasted a few blows; Nick
managed a final halfhearted blow to Solomon’s chest before Ridley had paralyzed them
both.
“To be young and stupid,” he said, coming over to pull them apart. “You feel
better Nick?” he asked, shoving a rag into Solomon’s hands.
“A lot,” he spat.
“Shut up,” said Ridley. “Now that you’ve managed to look like complete idiots,
why don’t we talk about what we’re going to do now? Adele said you saw the Oracle.”
“Yeah. She said my father was in the Hinterlands. So that’s where I’m going,” he
said, shrugging his shoulder testingly.
 Solomon and Ridley now exchanged looks. “Did she tell you anything about
him?” asked Solomon, his voice pinched and nasal.
“No, Alvin, I’m afraid she didn’t,” he said. “Why? What’s this all about? Why are
you here?”
Neither Solomon nor Ridley said anything for a long moment. Finally the older
man sighed and leaned forward. “I haven’t learned much,” he said. “I ought to start by
letting you know that I did my time with the Magician’s Court. I took Grace in after…
after what happened,” he said.
Nick was taken aback for the second time that night. “You’re a part of the Court”
he said. “Then…you knew about me the entire time. Why…?”
“I didn’t know about you in an ‘official’ capacity,” interrupted Ridley. “I’ve been
taking on second jobs…if you’ll get me…for a while now.”
“You mean…what…you’re a double agent?” said Nick.
“Don’t get smart,” warned Ridley.
Nick apologized, ignoring the triumphant glare Solomon shot him.
“I started the shop a few years back to…ah…act as a liaison between the Walks
and the ordinary world. And to make a little extra money off the side. When you boys
started coming in my shop it didn’t take me long to figure out the little one was Nick
Swift.”
“The little one?” Solomon mouthed to Nick, who ignored him as best he could.
“So what happened?” said Nick. “How did I get set up?”
“I didn’t have a choice,” said Ridley. “Bane was following me. I tried to give you
a warning by selling Solomon the bestiary…”
“Yeah. Way to miss that sign,” said Solomon.
“But it wasn’t much,” interjected Ridley, “and when I saw he was going to send
you into Exile I realized there was nothing else to do but come in after you.”
“But what does it matter?” said Nick.
“It matters,” said Ridley. “You were born here, Nick. You know that much by
now. You were sent away because your life is in danger.”
“Your dad’s a king,” said Solomon.
***********************************************************************
*

“Nick?”
“Don’t you mean your highness?” he shot back.
“I’m sorry.” He heard Adele move over and sit down in the grass next to him.
“I don’t get it. Why didn’t anybody tell me anything?”
“I don’t know. It wasn’t my place,” she said. “Our tribe helped your mother to the
gate. I remember her, a little,” she said. “She was beautiful.”
The sun was peeking over the edge of the horizon. Nick got to his feet. “It’s not
fair,” he said finally. “I never cared about my mother or my father, or what happened to
them. I never cared about any of that. And now it’s all I can think about,” he added.

**********************************************************************
 Deacon waited at the bottom of the hill for several hours. By the time the girl
appeared he’d grown agitated and impatient. Grace paused in front of him, clutching her
hands behind her back.
“You’re late,” he hissed.
“I had to wait until the others were asleep. Don’t worry,” she added, “They won’t
wake up until I get back.”
“What about our plan?” he hissed.
“It’s gotten a little complicated,” she said. “I was counting on you to leave him in
the city for me to find.”
“Blame the gypsy girl,” Deacon said.
“You “You mean the one you couldn’t even manage to hunt down in the Marshes?” she
said smoothly. Before he could speak again she shook her head. “Don’t try and defend
yourself. Just make sure you don’t mess up again. I have a plan.”
“And what would that be?” he said. Grace smiled.
“Nick is starting to lose focus. I think we ought to give him something to focus
on,” she said. “Solomon is his oldest friend. Take him to the Hinterlands. Adele too. She
can’t cause this much trouble while she’s wounded.”
“And what about the old man?”
Grace had started back up the hill. She paused and turned back, her eyes flashing.
“He knows the girl. If you get a chance, kill him.”

***********************************************************************
*

<The Market City has been moved to the center of the Fields. The Oracle is in a smaller
town.>

The Market City sat in the center of the fields, and acted as the only place in the walks
where creatures from either side of the Fold walked freely. Nick walked into market with
Solomon and Ridley. Ridley whisked Adele away to an inn in hopes of sending for a
Healer, despite her protests. Adele in turn had given Nick a list of items to retrieve from
the bustling market, which he promptly split with Solomon.