Chapter 1: The Sign of Era
Salem, Massachusetts.
Monday, May 3rd, 1999. 6:42 AM Eastern Time.
“I think we should help those poor refugees.”
Dusty Slosovich looked up from her cereal to stare incredulously at her father. Dusty did not have a high opinion of refugees, or anyone else who could not help themselves. If they did not have the common sense to make their lives better, then that was their fault.  The rest of the world should not have to take care of them. So therefore, she was not very open to helping these people.  
	“Daddy dearest, why is that?  I’m sure that someone else will take care of them.  It’s not our problem.  We don’t even know them.”  Dusty put down her spoon, careful not to spill milk on Mothers new tablecloth. 
	“Dusty, I thought I had raised you better.  You must know of our family’s connection to the Balkans, don’t you?”  Seeing Dusty’s puzzled look, however, he sighed and looked at the clock. There was time to tell some before his daughter's bus came. “Then I suppose that I will have to explain it. Be prepared for a long story, Dustball.
	“My great-great-grandfather Era Milosevic was born in Kosovo to a simple slave girl.  As it was forbidden for house servants to have children, he was handed over to the owner of the household.  That owner was, at the time, Assistant General of Yugoslav.  His wife was a pretty little thing, but their first child had died at birth.  All the country was awaiting the first appearance of the heir to their country’s defense.  The arrival of the slave girl’s child provided them with a suitable substitute for their expected child.  No one would ever know of the greatest child-switch in history.
	“They called him Era, because his father wanted him to begin an entirely new era of reign.  Era never knew the name of his mother, never even got a chance to meet her, to see her.  He never even knew she existed.  For as soon as Era could walk, his mother was dismissed from the residence, never to be seen again.  Some even say that she was executed so that Era could not know of his true heritage.  Whatever happened, we shall never know.
	“Some years later, when Era was 13, about your age Dusty, his father was elected as president of the country.  I do not mean to insult our ancestry, but electing that man was the worst mistake in their lives.  Era and his family moved to the palace.  The other boys sighted him as an outcast because he was royalty.  Era did not have any friends.  He went through life hating not his peers, but his father.  
“One evening Era’s parents went out to a play at a theater downtown.  He was left at home with his other brother, who had been born when Era was twelve.  Era, feeling adventurous, went searching through his parents’ closet.  There, behind a velvet green dress, he pulled open a carton.  Written on top in his mothers scrawl was the word Era.  Just like that.  As if he was a mark on paper, nothing to be bothered with.  He knew he was not supposed to open this, whatever it was, but he did so anyway.  The first few items were of little interest to him.  They were only baby clothes and some photographs of him and his mother, little stuff that didn’t bother him. But a voice deep down told him to dig deeper.  So he did.  Then, beneath his baby book, he saw a letter.  It was written on faded paper, not unlike the kind his manservant used.  He opened it up.  This is what he saw.”
At this point Dusty’s father held out a faded letter, the paper so old it was soft to the touch, like cotton.  Dusty read it.

Dearest Eva,
I wish so badly that I could be there for your life. There is nothing more that I want. You most likely do no know who I am. I will tell you. I am your mother. I am your real mother. I was forced to give you up to the General. Believe me, dearest, I did not want to! If I had a choice, I would rather die than let them have you. You are special, Eva. You are different. I realize that your life is very difficult. But you have to trust me, Darling. Your father is the General, though I suppose by the time you read this he is President. That scum forced me to have you. You are not an accident, Eva, by no means. When I realized that you were there I was ecstatic. I love you, my little Eva. Never forget that. 

All My Love,
Jada Korgak
 

“Eva,” her father continued, “he finally knew his real name. But at what price to him, to his way of life? He didn’t know. 
“After his parents came home, Era—Eva—whatever his name was—was dying to confront his parents. He did not dare, as he would lose his title as Heir to the throne. Era was in a very precarious situation. The letter could be a fake. Or it could be the truth. Which one was more dangerous? He did not wish to find out.
“Well, Dusty, I think you had better get off to the bus now. You will be late for school otherwise.”
7:05 AM Eastern Time
Her father’s words echoed in her ears as Dusty flew out the door. As she stepped up onto the bus, she noticed that Craig Mueller, her best friend had saved her a spot. The usual gesture did little to raise her spirits. He noticed Dusty’s gloomy features as she plopped down into the seat next to him. 
“What’s wrong, Dustbin?” Dusty nearly laughed at the concerned expression on his face. Like a puppy, she thought.
“Nothing. Something my dad told me as I was going out the door.” She was quick to avoid his eyes. Craig had eyes that would make you tell anything, just so that you could stare into them longer. They were green, like emeralds, and they had little flecks of gold surrounding the pupil, almost like a halo. As Craig’s best friend, Dusty was given the privilege of staring into his eyes the most. It was one of the perks of their relationship. 
Dusty knew that the other girls in school envied her because of her relationship with Craig. They thought that she was the reason that Craig would not go out with anyone. Just the thought made her laugh inside. Craig was scared to be in a relationship with someone. He had told her that he just hadn’t found the ‘right girl’ for him. Then he would look into her eyes with that look of his and she would get this urge to lean over and kiss him but then he would smile and she wanted to do more than just kiss and then she would feel nervous because they were just friends and she should feel guilty but she didn’t. A touch on her arm brought her back to reality.
“Earth to Dusty. Come in Dusty! Do you read?” Craig’s playful smile made her smile back. Those butterflies in her stomach started up again. She had half an hour to discuss the events of the weekend with Craig, and get him to fill her in on the latest gossip from the guys. In return, she had to fill him in on the gossip of the girls. Craig often laughed when she begrudgingly told him of all the girls who had crushes on him. He said that they were all airheads who cared nothing more than scoring a guy. She agreed with him. 
7:45 AM Eastern Time
Later, as the bus pulled up to school, Craig was separated from her. Turned around in the brisk May air, she realized that he was still on the bus. She could see his face and light blond hair against the back window of the bus. It was driving away.
Nothing more to do until Craig manages to get off the bus. Twenty minutes until it comes back. Well, I’m just going to hope the rest of my group is here.
Crossing her arms to keep her hands warm, Dusty began her walk across the field. She spotted her group, standing in their usual place behind the bike racks out of sight from any watching teacher. At a brisk pace Dusty walked over, making sure not to get her new shoes wet in the early morning dew. 
“Hey, guys. Mirada, Felicity, Savannah, did you get a hold of Steve? Does he want to go out with any of us? No? Well, that’s his loss then. Jessi, how’s Jake? Oh, he didn’t call, did he? He will soon. When he gets that reject Ebony out of his mind, your phone will be ringing. Yeah, I know she’s his cousin, but that didn’t stop Michael and Sandra, did it? Helena, where did you get that shirt? No, I’m not complimenting it; I’m saying it looks awful. The color scheme is all wrong for your skin tone. We’ll go shopping tomorrow and get a better one. Just make sure you have Tad’s credit card on you. So what if you broke up? He was stoned at the time and probably doesn’t even remember he gave it to you.” 
Dusty dived into the conversation with ease. It was a vital skill. You needed to be able to defend yourself. This was just one way of doing it. Her friends thought she was the most sophisticated person in school, if not the most wealthy. 
Savannah was the bad girl of the group. If you needed anything, a fix or whatever, Savannah could get it. Her older brother was a professional drug dealer. He sold everything, or rather, he had. Mick had been busted last week. He left instructions on a floppy disk that Savannah discovered while washing his clothes. The instructions had led her to a crack house, an old abandoned building on 32nd Avenue. He had said that he wanted his delinquent sister to be the new drug lord of Salem, Massachusetts. Savannah didn’t think she was ready to be drug lord of Salem, but she was working on Salem High. 
So far, the drug rate among students had tripled, leaving the school board baffled. Tighter restrictions were placed, and police situated all over the school, but the drug baronness of Salem High still managed to get her customers what they wanted. Rumor had it that she had sold some of her wares to the principal. That would explain why, when Ms. Hornia had caught her slipping an ounce of cocaine to Joseph Greenbough during French, she had not been suspended. You just didn’t exterminate your drug dealer. 
Dusty looked at Jessi. Jessi was the lost one of them. Savannah managed to keep her head above water, making it a personal rule that she would let none of her friends’ try her products. She couldn’t stop Jessi. Jessi had immersed herself in too much too fast, sleeping with most of the male population. She seemed detached and lonely, even when friends surrounded her. As many of Dusty’s friends had whispered, Jessi was the blemish on their reputation's face. She was close to Jake in the way Dusty was to Craig, only not so trustworthy. Craig was different from other guys, Dusty fiercely told herself. He was more sensitive, more caring, and better looking than the other guys were.
8:00 AM Eastern Time
Saying goodbye to her friends, Dusty headed inside at the bell. Felicity walked beside her. At the Crossroads, an intersection where the Druggie Hall and the Preppy Hall cross, they parted, promising to see each other in their lunch periods. In homeroom, she chatted with Craig, who told her what happened when the bus left without her.
“You should have seen it, Dusty!” He laughed and continued, “there was this one girl, she looked like she had stepped out of a magazine!”
“Which one?”
“Those beauty ones. I mean, shit, Dusty, she had blond hair even blonder than yours! And what she was carrying, if you get my drift, would blow your mind!”
“So what did you do?” Dusty inquired. This bus chick sounded dangerous. No one, especially someone she didn’t even know, was going to take Craig away from her.
Craig looked guilty. “I gave her my number and told her to call me Friday. But it was in no way offensive to you,” he protested when he saw her face.
“Friday? But that’s when we go to the movies and the mall! It’s practically a ritual! How can you do this?”  But she caught herself, remembering that she had not been all too faithful to Craig, either.
On Friday last week Dusty had caught herself looking at Brian, who had been voted “Best-Looking Guy” in the yearbook. Once more, she had the privilege of being in his woodworking class, along with Craig and many of her friends. She was working on the wood lathe, when she accidentally let the table leg she was working on slip. It had flown up, cutting one of her arms. Mr. Marvis told her that had she not put her arms up to shield her face, she could have been blinded. After sternly reprimanding her for her carelessness while using a piece of machinery, then yelling at her for not wearing safety gear, he finally sent her down to the nurse's room.
Dusty had begun to walk, but fell near the door, she was losing so much blood it made her dizzy. Crossly, Mr. Marvis ordered Brian Zimmerman to walk Dusty down to the nurse. She nearly fainted once more, but Brian caught her. She looked up at him, and was stunned by his features. Lips that turned down ever so slightly at the corners in worry, and eyebrows that came together somewhat. A smattering of freckles accentuated his mocha skin, mainly on his nose. And his eyes. Oh, his eyes. Sky blue, with little swirls of navy in them, they peered into her own grey ones. Seeing her shocked expression, Brian smiled. 
“Yeah, I know, ‘wow, what a hottie!’ There’s more to me than just good looks, you know.” He smiled a cynical smile and helped her along. Once she had been safely delivered to the nurse, Brian had winked at her and walked back to class.
8:03 AM Eastern Time
“…So, you think that shirt Ashleigh’s wearing looks good?” Craig questioned her.
She jumped, a little unhappy to be brought out of the memory. “Huh? No, it shows WAY too much. I mean, they’re practically hanging out there. But maybe that’s one of those things you’re not meant to know.” Her face burned. Too much info, she thought. Craig was her best friend, aside from Savannah, but there were just some things he didn’t need to know. He looked as red as she probably was.
“I can kind of see that. Not that I mean to look or anything, but how can I not? It’s my nature. I have to. It’s guy Radar. We’re drawn to those sorts of things. It’s not my fault!” He rambled on, obviously embarrassed by the subject. Sometimes they just got into one topic that should not be approached and couldn‘t get out of it.
“I understand. So, are we still on for the Friday Movie-and-Mall thing?”
He avoided her gaze. “There’s still that girl I gave my number to.”
“She won’t call.” She had better not, Dusty thought. Craig opened his mouth as if to say something, but was cut off by a shriek from across the classroom. 

Dustys blood froze in her veins. She couldn’t explain why, but the sound flashed back to a cavern and a boy with a sword. Then the salty smell of blood, and a corpse on the ground. The boy with the sword, now red with blood, looked up panting straight at her. He called something to her, but she couldn’t understand him. Then he faded away into the darkness.

“Dusty, what’s wrong?” Jezebel Lorna, a girl in her class, came over and touched her on the arm, breaking the trance.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”
Brain strolled over. “As soon as Jessi screamed, your eyes rolled back into your head and you started shaking. Then you picked up that pencil and started drawing on the paper like you were possessed. We were all freaked.” 
Craig really looked worried. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
She nodded vigorously. “Positive.” Looking down, she realized that the sheet of paper on her desk had been drawn on. Dusty picked it up and read it. There were no words, only a symbol.


She fervently decided to ignore it.
2:45 PM Eastern Time
The rest of the day passed uneventfully, with only one highlight. It happened in gym class. She and Brian had been sitting on the bleachers, watching the track and field. They were waiting for the hurdles. Dusty rocked on the hurdles. With the fastest record out of the entire school (male AND female), she was confident of her mark. Craig said she flew over the hurdles like some unearthly bird. So there Dusty sat on the bleachers with Brian. Suddenly he leaned over.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re beautiful?” Then, without warning, he frenched her, right there in front of the entire gym class. After being shocked for a few seconds, Dusty finally began kissing back.  After a few moments of intense lip locking, Craig finally spotted her and walked over.
“Hey, Dusty!” He said loudly. Little did Dusty know, but Craig got insanely jealous whenever she kissed some other guy. Especially Brian.
Dusty came up for air, looking casual. “Oh, hi, Craig.”
She really doesn’t like me, Craig thought. Right then and there his heart broke. Sure, he and Dusty had been best friends since they were in kindergarten, and they had both kissed other people routinely. After all, he told himself, this is nothing. Dusty has kissed other guys way farther, and this means nothing. But he couldn’t shake this feeling of hatred for Brian. He was better looking than Craig would ever be, and how could he compete with this all-star guy who had everything to offer?
All three of them noticed the gym teacher heading over. Dusty made the first move to break the tension. The glares the guys were exchanging could kill. “Um, I think we should continue this after school, Brian. The teacher is coming. You know how she hates lovers.”
If it was possible, Craig’s heart broke even more. She hadn’t turned down Brian. She had even called him her lover. Now, he was faced with a tricky decision. Should he tell Dusty there was no blonde chick on the bus? Or should he put on a mask of “I don’t care”? Either way, he lost. Dusty joined him as he walked away.
Chapter 2: Night Terrors
1: 54 PM Eastern Time
Brian watched Dusty as she walked off with Craig. She had a nice rear view. There was only one thing standing in his way. That thing was Craig. The pitiful weenie actually thought that Dusty was interested in him. Brian knew that Dusty would die to go out with Brian. She would. First he would get her to trust him. He knew what chicks like her wanted. He would give her that. Then, he would kill her. Only then would the voices leave him alone. That’s all he wanted. To stop the voices. 
They had come to him last Thursday, the day before Dusty almost cut off her arm. He had been watching The Nature of Things on TV. Then he heard it, whispering inside his head.
Salem, Massachusetts. 11: 19 PM Eastern Time 
Thursday, April 22nd, 1999
Brian, Brian, they whispered. We need you, Brian; we need you a lot. Why? He thought. The Girl, Brian. The Girl is dangerous. She threatens to destroy us and our legacy, our livelihood and our kin. We need you to kill The Girl. Who is this girl? Brian wondered. The voices spoke to him again. Check your e-mail, Brian.
He walked over to his computer and logged on.  Right there, in the In Box, was a message from someone called ‘Night Terror 666.’  He clicked ‘open’ and was rewarded with a photo of Dusty Slosovic, taken that day at school.  She was hanging with her friends around the bike racks, smoking. He always thought Dusty looked sexy smoking. To hell with all those ads saying how stupid people looked while smoking. Dusty looked like a million dollars.
He read the message underneath the profile. He stopped breathing.

Hey there, Brian. You did want to know who The Girl is, right? We need you to get rid of her. She threatens to destroy us. Who are we, you ask? We are the Evil Ones. Humanity has no name for us. We are too horrifying for words. We defy description. We are death, we are darkness. We destroy all that is good. Our existence is to kill everything. Our presence is a killing virus, consuming the Earth in unending agony. You have no choice but to obey us, Brian. You have been chosen. The only way for you to escape us is to kill yourself. Even then we will be waiting when you descend into the underworld. 
So here is your mission. Kill The Girl. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Brian? That is what you want. We know she attends your place of learning. We also know she desires you. We see her mind. She wants to sleep with you. When she looks at you the hunger is almost too much for her to bear. Seduce her, Brian. Make her yours. We see that you are the only one she will trust. Kill her, and bring her head to us. If you fail us, Brian, you will dwell in eternal suffering. Do not fail us.

Brian rocked back in his chair, breaking into a cold sweat. 
“Who would have thought. Ancient entities using e-mail! This is totally X-Files.” Still, he couldn’t get the cold feeling out of his back. Cold chills still ran up and down it, as if someone had dropped an ice cube down his shirt. It was as if they had known that he had the evil seed inside him, growing. How had the Evil Ones known that he was the killer? 
Salem had had a rash of murders, all of the victims’ being high-school girls. The police said the bodies were horribly disfigured, violated, torn apart. The community was shocked. How could such a killer exist in Salem? The adults imposed a new curfew, employed more police, and gave all the children Personal Protection Classes. They thought that that would stop him. They were wrong. All the grown-ups thought that there was a pervert in their city, a predator, some old man who grabbed the teens off the street and raped them then killed them. They were wrong there, too. The real killer was a high-school boy, recognized all over town. Seven people could tie him to the murders. They were six feet under. He had not had any connection to the girls he killed. They all went to a different school, Salem Private. The police had already arrested one of the guys from that school, so Brian stopped his killing spree for a while. This way the cops would think they had the right guy. Brian leaned back in his chair and smiled. Dusty was as good as his.             
Somewhere in Serbia, 1:55 PM Eastern Time. Monday May 3rd, 1999 
	“Your Highness,” announced Girsholm, “there has been some unforeseen complications involving The Girl.”
	The woman on the throne frowned down at him. “What kind of complications?”
	“Well, ah, there is another in the way. The human slave is useless against him.”
	“I demand to see the seers. Send them to me.”
	“Yes, my Queen. It will be done.” Shaking like a leaf, Girsholm hurried out of the chamber. 
	“Oh, and Girsholm? You will pay dearly for this.”
2:00 PM Eastern Time 	
	All of the slaves’ eyes were on the seven seers as they shuffled into the Queen’s Chamber. Dressed in dark robes, the slippers on their feet muffled all sounds. It was as if they walked on air. What little noise they did make was lost in the cathedral-like ceilings of the throne room, towering hundreds of feet up. All seven of the seers lined up in front of the Queen, heads bowed. Sinlax stepped out of the line. He was the leader of the seers.
	“My Queen, may the Ancient Ones fill you with their dark power, and give you the earth— ”
	“Cut the pleasantries, Sinlax. Why did you not foresee the coming of this obstacle?” Her voice was icy and piercing.
	“What obstacle—Urg!” Sinlax fell to the ground, twitching. The sickening smell of burning flesh filled the air. The Queen stopped her deadly energy.
	“Take him to the infirmary. He may be a liar, but I cannot afford to lose one of my seers.” She turned to the remaining seers. “I want the truth. Why was I not told of this unexpected hindrance? You, Noria. Tell me.”
	The young seer trembled under her gaze. “My Queen, we foresaw all that has happened so far, but it is hazy beyond that. This boy, by my visions, is more powerful than we first thought. He will die to protect The Girl. Their soul-bond is unbreakable…I see no way to get rid of him.” Noria bowed low and joined the line. 
	“Good, Noria. That’s more than that trash Sinlax told me. Finto, what have you seen of this boy?”
	The young man straightened visibly. He threw back his hood to expose a stunningly handsome face. But he was blind. Where there had once been purple eyes, there were only milky white blobs. The Queen thought that Finto could see the clearest out of the seers. “Your Highness, this boy is jealous of the human slave. He thinks that The Girl has no interest in him. We can use this to our advantage.”
	The Queen nodded her head slowly. “Yes, we can. You there,” she commanded, turning to a slave-child, “send instructions to the Council. Tell them that they must send the human slave another message. Tell them to order him to destroy this boy. Use that mortal contraption. Now leave, all of you. I want to be left alone.” At a word, the Chamber emptied of slaves. Only one or two stayed behind. They escorted the seers out. The Queen spied a thin little creature hovering around the base of one of the giant stone columns. She smiled wickedly and called the slave over.
	“My helot, what is it you stay here for?”
	Eyes bowed, head lowered, the slave stood in front of her. She noticed that it was a child, maybe five or six. “I wanted to speak with you, my Queen. You see, I came to ask of something I don’t think you will grant me. I wish to ask my freedom. I miss my home and my parents. Do you think that you could please grant me my wish?”
Neptunium smiled inwardly at the naïve child. “Come here, my young one,” she whispered. The child came forward. “Here’s your freedom.” And with that she lashed out her mind. The slave didn’t even have time to react before she was inside his mind. Like an adder, she gripped mentally onto his soul, and began to suck it dry. She sighed pleasurably as the life force flowed into her.
	Queen Neptunium was thoroughly satisfied. The entire issue with The Girl had left her with very little time to feed. Add on the present turn of events involving this boy, and she was exhausted. The slave-child’s energy was good, as he had not been here very long. All that remained to do was defeat The Girl. 
	Even though The Girl had come in a new body, Neptunium had fought her before. That time had been long ago. 
 Chapter 3: A Chilling Prophecy
Somewhere in Serbia. 11: 49 PM Eastern Time. May 10th, 1899
	The clashing of the swords helped keep Era on his feet. Queen Neptunium was an experienced fighter, skilled greatly with the blade. Sweat poured down both their faces as they fought.
	“Young one,” gasped Neptunium, “you will not live long to remember your defeat.” A swipe of her sword sliced Era deep in his arm. He gritted his teeth and fought on against the pain. He had to keep fighting for Kavin. The steaming carcass of his best friend lay not four feet away from him. Kavin, loyal to the end, had battled right beside Era. Kavin had been dealt a fatal blow by Neptunium, and had died in Era’s arms. His blood was smeared over Era’s body, except on Era’s face, where tears had washed a clean path. But there was no time for tears. He had to kill Neptunium 
	“It is you who is mistaken,” he curtly replied. Bleeding all over from the thousand wounds his opponent had managed to create, Era was feeling weaker and weaker. He knew that Neptunium could see that. She raised her sword to deliver a final blow, when he was given a last bit of strength. 
	“Tell how I am to die,” he said, “when I am about to kill you!” Era slashed out with his blade, spearing Queen Neptunium through the middle.
	She made a strange noise in her throat, then quickly stabbed back at Era, fatally wounding him. As his eyes began to mist over, his only comfort was that Neptunium seemed to be sinking towards death as well. She whispered her final words as they both lay there fading away from this life. Even half-dead, Neptunium’s words chilled Era to the bone. 
	“This is not over, youth. One day we will meet again. That day is the day you die. I, Queen Neptunium, swear this upon my entire empire of darkness.” 
Era struggled to keep his eyes open, but the beautiful face of the evil queen swam in and out of focus. He closed his eyes, and heard a strange voice murmur in his ear:

On the other side of night
A child of ages will close his eyes
And open them again to find him in another body
He will learn his path
And find his true enemy awaiting him at the end of a road
Road as a snake winds 
Deep into her dark domain
Trust the green-eyed Lord of Giarc
For he shows the way
And lays down his mortality so that She can live
Beware the one who speaks of love
For he knows not of this
Descend into the dying light
Where hollow-eyed helots serve The Dark One
Draw your sword
To slay the dragon
And jump into its mouth
Light a fire to make it cold
And lose the things you value
The Queen may fall
Or she may triumph
Four lost souls shall find mercy. 

	Era looked up for one last time. The last thing he saw was Neptunium standing over him, the hole he had stabbed in her closing up. She raised her weapon, and delivered her final blow. Era closed his eyes. 
Salem, Massachusetts. 2: 34 PM Eastern Time. Monday, May 3rd, 1999
	Craig sat silent beside Dusty on the bus. She wrung her hands in anxiety. His silence was unbearable. All day he had not spoken to her, at least after gym class. If he was mad at her, he was doing a great job at it. 
	Dusty couldn’t stand the quiet any longer. “What’s wrong? And don’t lie to me, either. I know you, Craig. Something’s wrong. What?”
	He simply looked at her, then glanced away. “I found something.”
	“What?”
	“A poem. It had your name on it. Someone e-mailed it to me. Here.” He handed her a sheet of paper. Dusty read it quickly. 

On the other side of night
A child of ages will close his eyes
And open them again to find him in another body
He will learn his path
And find his true enemy awaiting him at the end of a road
Road as a snake winds 
Deep into her dark domain
Trust the green-eyed Lord of Giarc
For he shows the way
And lays down his mortality so that She can live
Beware the one who speaks of love
For he knows not of this
Descend into the dying light
Where hollow-eyed helots serve The Dark One
Draw your sword
To slay the dragon
And jump into its mouth
Light a fire to make it cold
And lose the things you value
The Queen may fall
Or she may triumph
Four lost souls shall find mercy. 

Dear Dusty:
Hey! You don’t know me, but I’ve faced this quest before. I didn’t triumph, but I came close. I know you will need this (I only wish I had it when I fought *lol*), and I think you can beat her. Good Luck!

Era =)

	Dusty looked at Craig. “Oh my God.”
	“What?” Dusty told him what her dad had told her that morning. He started at her in disbelief. “This is probably something that some prankster made up. It means nothing.”
	“Craig, you’re wrong. There’s something to this, I know there is. It’s a prophecy.” Dusty thrust the page at Craig. “Look at this. ‘The Queen may fall or she may triumph four lost souls shall find mercy.’ It totally makes sense. I’m supposed to find this Lord of Giarc, and get him to show me the way. I have to slay a dragon and light a fire, and beware the one who speaks of love. How hard can this be?”
	He glanced at the page. “Where’s the other side of night?”
	“Maybe it’s a code. It could mean anything. I think I should start by looking for this Lord of Giarc.”
	Craig looked at Dusty. “Giarc is Craig backwards.”
	“Oh God.”
	“Yeah.”
	An uncomfortable silence followed. Dusty realized that maybe Craig was the Lord she was supposed to look for. But that still didn‘t mean that she was the one to carry out this quest. After all, the poem talked about a boy, didn’t it?

	Craig felt awful. He had lied to Dusty for the first time in his life. The prophecy hadn’t been sent to him in an e-mail, he had heard it in a dream. A wispy figure of a boy had guided him to his computer and told him what to type. The boy also talked to him. He said his name was Era, and that Craig had to help Dusty in her quest to destroy the evil lurking in the homeland. Era told Craig that there was a queen who was going to enslave the human race. Craig and Dusty had to stop her. Craig was suspicious of this. He remembered what had happened the night Era came.
Salem, Massachusetts. 12:01 AM Eastern Time. Monday, May 3rd, 1999
	“Craig.” Craig groggily opened his eyes. He felt like going back to sleep. He had school soon, and he needed some down time. But a hand was shaking his shoulder, only the hand felt wrong. It was too cold, and whitish and wispy. Craig’s sleepy view traveled up past the hand to a face. He didn’t recognize it. His first thought was, Hey, why is Dusty in my room? It had to be said, this kid looked like her. The same slim face, and round, piercing gray eyes stared at him. The lips, full and thick, turned downward at the corners ever so slightly. The youth spoke.
	“I’ve come to ask for your help, Craig. I am Era, an ancestor of Dusty. You are Craig in this life, but you were my best friend Kavin in a past life. Dusty is really an incarnation of me. I need you and Dusty to destroy the Queen. It’s all in this poem.”
	As if drawn by a magnet, Craig walked over to the computer sitting on his desk. For half an hour, Craig sat. Era murmured in his ear, and Craig wrote in a daze. When he finally hit Print, Craig walked back to bed and resumed sleeping. He would not remember Era and his strange prophecy until he woke up.
Chapter 4: Contact
 Salem, Massachusetts. 7:19 PM Eastern Time. Monday, May 3rd, 1999
	“There, it’s settled then. We will take in one family when the first refugees arrive.”
	“Daddy, no!” Dusty banged her fist on the table. “I won’t have some strangers living with us. I can’t even speak whatever language they do.”
	“Dusty, you’re being unreasonable.” Her mother cut in. Dusty looked at her. Sharp, calculating green eyes peered over trim bifocals. With her graying blond hair whisked up in bun, Lisa Slosovic looked every part a talented and merciless lawyer. She was just that.
	“Mother, if anyone at this table is being unreasonable, it’s Daddy.” Dusty knew somehow that she had to let the refugees come, but she was totally against it.
	“Dusty! That’s no way to talk to your mother! Now, if you don’t want to be trapped inside all summer and live night and day with them, then you are going to have to
accept the fact that they’re coming.” With a stern look, her father made it perfectly clear that the discussion was over.
	“I’m leaving,” Mrs. Slosovic announced. She picked up her briefcase and continued. “There’s a tough case tomorrow, and I have a meeting with the rest of the team to discuss strategies. There are some uncompromising witnesses to deal with, we need to review all our notes. I won’t be in until later.” She kissed Richard Slosovic on the cheek, and looked at Dusty. “You, young lady, are grounded for the rest of the week.”

	Dusty ran up to her room. Slamming the door behind her, she threw herself down on the bed and cried. The phone rang. Choking down sobs, she answered it.
	“Hello?”
	There was no answer.
	“Hello?”
	A heavy breathing started. The hair on the back of her neck rose.
	A whisper came over the line. The voice scraped on her ears and sent chills up and down her spine. “You’re mine.”
	“Who is this?” Dusty demanded.
	The caller appeared not to hear her. “I’m going to make you mine, Dusty. I’m going to make sure you don’t succeed. The Dark Queen must triumph. I will bring you to Her, and She will suck your soul from your body.”
	Dusty was terrified, but she tried to keep her voice calm. “For the last time, sicko, I want to know your name.”
	“Oh, you’ll know my name, all right. You’re going to die screaming it.”
	“Fine then. Tell me.”
	“Giarc.”
	Dusty sat there on her bed, her heart racing. The strange caller was not kidding. But it couldn’t be Craig, she thought. It just couldn’t be. He would never do something like this. But the laughter on the end sounded like a twisted version of Craig’s own sweet guffaw. A sudden click signaled that the end of the call. 
The idea came to her mind that she should use *69 option on the phone. She punched in the command, and listened to the voice on the other end.
“The last number that called this residence cannot be traced. Please hang up and try your call again.” Dusty put down the phone with a shaking hand. Something was wrong. Ignoring the impending punishment for using the feature, Dusty ran down the stairs. 
“Daddy?” she assumed he was in the study. Dusty opened the door to the thickly paneled library and stood there in shock. Her father lay sprawled across the Oriental rug, clutching his chest. His face had turned purple, and he was gasping for air. “Hold on, Daddy, I’ll get help.” Dusty ran to the phone. Picking it up, she dialed 9-1-1. 
“Hello?” A woman’s voice pierced the line.
“My dad had a heart attack. I…I think he’s dying.”
“Hold on sweetie, we’ll be there soon. I’ve got the address and the paramedics are on their way.”
Sharp crackling filled the line. The voice of the dispatcher faded away, and was replaced by another voice, which spoke to her with velvety calmness
“Era,” the entity said, “I told you that we would meet again. Now the time has come for your destruction.” 
“Who are you?”
“Ah, yes. The Girl. I have waited long for this moment. I am Queen Neptunium, the Queen and Supreme Ruler of the Underworld. I promised you that I would kill you the last time we met. We shall meet soon, Era.”
“But I’m not Era!”
“Shut up, young child. Do not meddle in the affairs of what you do not understand. I shall not tell you what you are. The less you know, the better.” This Queen Neptunium hung up the phone, leaving Dusty speechless. A loud banging broke down her front door, and the paramedics came rushing into the study. 
In a flurry of activity, Dusty’s father was loaded onto a stretcher. He was carried into the ambulance. Dusty stood, shocked, on the front porch while she watched the ambulance drive away with her father in it. A police officer asked if she was going to be alright. She nodded bluntly, as she lied through her teeth.
“My mother’s coming to get me. She’ll be here soon.”
The police gradually trickled out of her front yard into the waiting patrol cars.
Chapter 5: Plutonium
Serbia. 8:04 PM Eastern Standard Time
Neptunium called the seers once more. Sinlax led them once more, hatred burning in his orange eyes.
	He bent low before her, his voice dripping in sarcasm. “You called, my Queen?”
	Neptunium chose to ignore his disrespect. “Yes, Sinlax, I did. I demand to know who placed the call to The Girl. The one who calls himself Giarc shall be brought before me. Now.” The seers looked confused. All, that it, except Plutonium. 
	Plutonium, a young female seer, had never accepted Queen Neptunium’s position. This could be because Neptunium rarely believed the predictions of Plutonium, or because Neptunium and Plutonium were sisters. Identical twins, to be precise. Neptunium noticed the defiant and amused gaze of her twin, and called her on it.
	“Plutonium!” Neptunium barked, “Do you find something amusing about this?” Plutonium continued to smirk. The slaves and the six other seers shuffled nervously. Confrontations between the siblings turned violent often, and more than one innocent life had been lost.
	Plutonium returned her sister’s icy sneer. “My dear Neptunium,” bemused Plutonium, a note of satire in her voice, “I would have thought that you knew this. Giarc made the phone call. Isn’t it obvious?” A slave of about three or four began to snicker. Neptunium shot a bolt of deadly fire in the direction of the child, and sucked the soul in record time.
	“Anyone else find humor in this?” She asked, as the lifeless body of the toddler fell to the floor. There was no sound from the gathering. She returned her wrath on Plutonium. “If I knew that, why would I need the services of you lowly seven seers? Second, there is no one in the Underworld by the name of Giarc.”
	“Sinlax could not see this, nor could Finto. What makes you think I would know?”
	Neptunium seemed to dismiss Plutonium, and drilled the rest of the seers. Finto, Noria, Sinlax, Colburn, Boca, and Tia all had not identified the identity of the mysterious caller. Neptunium was furious.
	“Contact the mortal called Brian. I want him to find this Giarc. Set me up with a mind-link.” Neptunium leaned back in the massive stone throne. She watched the slaves and seers scurry to obey her. All except Plutonium. “And have her taken to the tombs. I can afford to lose a seer now, especially a weak one.” The slaves looked in horror at the Queen. Queen Neptunium had openly insulted Plutonium, and had sentenced her twin to death. The Dark One sensed their hesitation. “Well? What are you waiting for? I want her locked up! As well, abort the mind-link. I have family business to attend to.” Neptunium smiled as her twin was led away by five burly guards. She would have fun consuming the soul of Plutonium.
12: 26 AM Eastern Time
	Plutonium grasped the bars of her cell, vainly trying to break them with her mind. But the metal was too strong. Neptunium had fashioned them well. 
Plutonium hated her sister. It was a bond that had existed between them since childhood, when Neptunium was appointed to the throne. A plain looking child, Neptunium had harnessed the power of the night. She captured the essence of evil, and used it to create her astounding beauty. Plutonium was out of the picture, now overshadowed by Neptunium. Neptunium’s plan had failed, in a way. She had wanted to make herself more beautiful than her twin was, but instead, Neptunium’s own stolen beauty had transferred itself to Plutonium. This left both stunningly beautiful and looking the same.
It was their mother Sitara who had uncovered the power within Plutonium, her power of seeing. At that time, only eight other children in the Dark Kingdom were known to be possessed of  a strong sense of seeing. These children were either slaves, children of guards, or children of seers. Never had there been a seeing child from the Royalty. Plutonium was the first, and therefore the most important. She had very little ability, however, in the art. Exhausting training every day did little to improve her ability, but the other eight made leaps and bounds. Finto, Noria, Sinlax, Colburn, Boca, Tia, Ven, and Rasool made up the rest of the Chosen Nine. Hundreds of other children in the Dark Kingdom had inklings of the seeing ability, but only these nine could continue training.
Plutonium had done her best to ruin her comrades. She had blinded Finto through acid in his sleep. It was only by the healing powers of Sitara that he continued to live. 
Ven was Plutonium’s most hated enemy. She plotted to kill or maim the stunningly ravishing future seer, and she succeeded. Ven was attacked by a loose Dragondog. She was torn apart.
Rasool had disappeared suddenly and mysteriously from the Dark Kingdom, and that had had no part of Plutonium’s. Rumor had it that he was kidnapped and taken above ground. No one ever knew where he had gone.
Bu that was in the past. Plutonium remembered her childhood as a time filled with hatred for her sister, and shock when her parents were killed in a battle. King Densional and Queen Sitara fought bravely to destroy Angel. No one knew where Angel had come from, but it was said that Angel was the one who controlled the Ageless Ones, entities that came every Age to destroy evil. It was also said that Angel had been the first Ageless One. Plutonium knew that Era and The Girl were Ageless Ones. She felt that The Girl could possibly, just possibly, defeat Neptunium. It was unlikely though that The Girl could do it, as Era could not defeat her. Neptunium and Plutonium had not lived 300 years to be defeated by an Ageless One.
Even if it were written in Plutonium’s destiny, she would not live to see the next moonrise. She knew the wrath of Neptunium, and could not do anything to prevent it. Plutonium felt a presence enter her cell.
“My dear Plutonium,” crooned Queen Neptunium, “I hope that your stay has been a pleasant one.”
“I do not wish to play games with you, sister. What is it you want from me?”
“Your soul.”
“Are you really so evil that you will consume the life force of kin?”
Neptunium smiled, a cruel and cold smile. “Plutonium, you have disgraced the Dark Family. It is plain to the eye that I have captured the eternal force. You, on the other hand, have turned away from our heritage.” Neptunium turned and summoned the guards. They opened the cell door. “Leave me and my sister. We have much to talk about.”
Plutonium shivered. She did not want to talk with her sister, much less be alone with her. They began to walk down the corridor towards the Room of History. The Room documented the entire span of history, both of demons and of men.
Neptunium talked as they walked. “Our family has the burden of time. We have never not existed, or will never cease to exist. We are a timeless race, born of the earth itself.”
Plutonium interrupted her. “I’ve heard all of this before, why do you tell me?”
A withering look from Neptunium silenced her. “As Queen, I was granted full and complete access to the Room of History. This includes the Chronicles of Ages.”
“What are the Chronicles of Ages?”
“An ancient volume that contains the events of the past, and the comings of the future. I think that the writers of the manuscripts either left it incomplete for a reason, or were stopped for some reason. The scrolls have accounted up until May 10th, 1999 AD.”
“What is so special about that date?”
“That is the predicted date for my battle with The Girl.”
The sisters came to a heavy oak door. Pushing, Neptunium opened it. They walked inside, and Plutonium gasped in awe. 
12: 46 AM Eastern Time
The Room of History stretched before them, a labyrinth of corridors and hallways. Measuring one kilometer in width and twice that in length, it’s shelves of books and volumes touched the hundred-meter ceiling. In the very center of the chamber lay a mosaic circle. A ten-pointed star graced the circle, with the Egyptian sign for Unity lying in the middle.  
“What is it that you wanted to show me?” Plutonium kept her eyes on the long central corridor that ran through the entire length of the chamber.
Neptunium didn’t answer. Instead, she walked to the mosaic floor pattern and knelt on the Egyptian sign. Plutonium followed her tentatively. Neptunium was mumbling something under her breath. 
Plutonium leaned forward just in time to catch her twin say, “…lorem ipsum. May Dactos grant a speedy descent. Harto gorna gypsum…” With the last few words, a blue light began to glow from the floor. Spreading slowly, it began to creep over the arms and legs of Neptunium, before covering them both. All Plutonium could see was the blue light. 

She came to in an alien place. Neptunium was already standing, praying before an altar. Plutonium’s ears recognized the last few words of the chant her twin performed in the Room of History. As before, a blue light entered from the floor. This time, though, the light formed a pillar, and a book appeared in it. Neptunium took the book from the column of light, and opened it. 
“Here is the key to our existence. I’m very sorry, Plutonium, but you will know too much when I finish explaining everything. I will have to kill you. 
“But you do still have a chance,” continued Neptunium. She had a sad look on her face. “I will give you two choices.”
“What are these choices?”
“Plutonium, you ask too many questions. When will you learn that sometimes you must let things happen on their own? You have to have faith that the Dark Ones will guide you.”
“This is no time for riddles, sister. I want to know my choices. I want to know my chances.”
“Your choices are these: Fight me in battle, or I will have you killed on the next moonrise.”
“Why should I fight you in battle? I am not a warrior, nor have I any skill with a blade.”
“It shall be a fight to the death. If you succeed in slaying me, you shall have my throne. If I defeat you, you are dead.”
“It is a suitable challenge. When shall the contest begin?”
“Now is an appropriate time.” A sudden flash filled the small, enclosed room. In Neptunium’s hand was now a glistening sword.  A fine blade.
“Your blade, dear sister, is a fine one. Its name?”
“Stardemon. I do believe that you need a weapon.” Neptunium snapped her fingers, and a sword materialized in front of Plutonium. She snatched the weapon, her body crying out in pain from the weight of the blade. How she was ever going to lift it was beyond her comprehension. Plutonium assumed a swordsman’s stance, facing off to Neptunium. To Plutonium’s shock, Neptunium started to laugh.
“No, not yet! Come here to the book.” Plutonium obeyed. “Here is the prediction for this lunar cycle.” Neptunium pushed the book towards Plutonium, and pointed at the page. Plutonium’s eyes skimmed the prophecy.

On the other side of night
A child of ages will close his eyes
And open them again to find him in another body
He will learn his path
And find his true enemy awaiting him at the end of a road
Road as a snake winds 
Deep into her dark domain
Trust the green-eyed Lord of Giarc
For he shows the way
And lays down his mortality so that She can live
Beware the one who speaks of love
For he knows not of this
Descend into the dying light
Where hollow-eyed helots serve The Dark One
Draw your sword
To slay the dragon
And jump into its mouth
Light a fire to make it cold
And lose the things you value
The Queen may fall
Or she may triumph
Four lost souls shall find mercy. 

	“Yes, it’s a wonderful prediction, but explain its purpose.”
	“Foolish child! It is a prophecy of my battle with The Girl. ‘A child of ages will close his eyes.’ That is symbolic of Era. He is a child of the Ageless Ones. I killed him. He died with his eyes closed. ‘And open them again to find himself in another body.’ The Girl is Era in this life. The foretelling is not meant for my usage. It is written for The Girl.”
	“Neptunium, why did you spare me for now?”
	“Questions again. I wanted to tell you of the battle between Era and myself.” Neptunium paused, her eyes looking into the distance. “It was the eve of the Feast of Time. The rain beat down relentlessly. Something inside me told me that I had little time left. Era was regaining strength, angered over his companion’s involvement. He didn’t understand that it was in the destiny of this boy to be killed by me. He shouted at the boy almost continuously throughout our combat. ‘Kavin,’ shouted he, ‘this is my fight, not yours! Get out of here!’
	“I killed this Kavin. Stabbed him right through his middle. As he died, Era rushed to his side. I lowered my weapon, as I wanted to observe this occurrence. With the blood of Kavin flowing freshly over the stones, Era took his friend in his arms. Kavin told Era it was to be this way, and that they would see each other again soon. Then he died. Era stood, and faced me with fire in his eyes. He shouted, ‘I’m going to kill you, and your blood will flow over the cobblestones like that of Kavin.’ I had to laugh at him. He was covered in blood from head to toe, as was his blade. Just the sight of so much blood made me want to drink. But I never got the chance. 
	“We fought, Era and I. He fought like a wild creature, oblivious to the dangers and spaces he was creating. I fought like a trained warrior, levelheaded. I still don’t know how he did it, but he managed to tear a gaping hole in me.” At this point, Neptunium lifted her gown, exposing her belly. A very large circular scar graced her midsection, just below her ribs.
	Lowering her robe, Neptunium continued. “That was the last blow he ever dealt. I stabbed him, but not before a strange force held me in place as I was dying beside Era. Era, now lying on the earth, went into convulsions, and began to chant the prophecy I showed you earlier. It was quite eerie. Era’s tone was monotonous and chilling. The air grew cold, and a feeling of love and security thickened the air. I will confide to you, sister, I was deathly afraid. There was something there, and it was not evil. I knew in my heart that it could destroy me if it chose, but it left as soon as it had come. Era stopped his fit and I was free to move my limbs again. Before he could react, I slew him. 
	“Now you know how that great battle ended. It was the proudest moment of my life when I ended his. My only pity is that I had no time to consume his soul. It would have given me great power.”
	Plutonium regarded her sister. Neptunium had her fists clenched at her sides, her eyes blazing. “And yet The Girl is returning.”
	“Yes.”
	“It is vital that you defeat her.”
	“That is true.”
	“Do you think you can defeat her?”
	Neptunium looked up. “No.”
	“Then let me.”
	“Let you what?”
	“Fight in your place. Crown me as Queen.”
	Neptunium stepped back as if she had been struck. “Never.”
	“Then The Girl will win. Our way of life will end.”
	“Better that than having you as ruler.”
	“No one will know of the change. After I defeat The Girl, we can change places yet again.”
	“Plutonium, I let you live for a reason. You have a choice. Fight or die.”
	Plutonium made her decision quickly. “Then let us end our feud at this moment.” The sisters drew weapons and faced off.
1:12 AM Eastern Time
	Neptunium raised Stardemon. Plutonium hoisted her own blade. The twin sisters assumed the ritualistic stance, mirror reflections of each other. The ghostly light from the blue column reflected off their faces, casting a soft, gentle look on their features. 
	“I shall kill you quickly, Plutonium. It is a better death than that of The Burning.”
	“Once you are cold and stiff I will assume the throne. Then we will see who is the most deserving of the power of the kingdom.”
	“Your lies betray your thoughts. I can see that you know nothing in the ways of battle. Let us fight.”
	The Queen lashed out suddenly, and Plutonium raised her sword to block the onslaught. They continued like this, exchanging blows, for several minutes, before Neptunium began to take the upper hand. Forcing her sister to the ground, Neptunium panted in her face. The foul breath of her sister made Plutonium want to throw up. Neptunium grinned, anticipating victory.
	“Now, aren’t you glad I told you all that is to happen? You can die being completely informed.” Neptunium cut off the head of Plutonium. She stood calmly, as all the life's blood of Plutonium poured out of her neck in a gushing stream. She wiped her hands on her gown and transported herself to the main chamber. 
1:27 AM Eastern Time
	Sinlax sidled up to Neptunium in the Grand Hallway as she made her way to her private chambers.
	“Your Majesty, may I have a word with you?” Sinlax uncomfortably noticed the blood covering Neptunium. It came to him that it could be all that they would ever see of Plutonium.
	“Make it fast, Sinlax. I’m in no mood to chat.” She swept past him, her black robe leaving bloody smears on the pale grey of the seer.
	“Well, ah, it’s about the conditions.”
	“What conditions?”
	“The conditions that bind the seers to service. We can only be at our strongest when there are seven of us. Plutonium has gone missing.”
	Neptunium whirled around to face the quivering soothsayer. “Do you want to know where she is?” The Queen demanded, fire in her eyes. “Do you?”
	“It would be nice to know where she went. The seers are scheduled for a seance tonight, at the midnight hour.”
	“I will tell you, then. I killed her. You cannot find her remains, they have been hidden in the place where no light shines except that of the dead. Plutonium will never be seen again.”
Chapter 6: A Death Shakes A Foundation
Salem, Massachusetts. Thursday, May 6th, 1999. 1:52 PM Eastern Time	
	“Dusty Slosovic to the office, please, Dusty Slosovic to the office.”
	Dusty rose slowly from her desk amongst a chorus of jeers. 
She heard Todd shout out, “Watch it Dusty, Old Man Summers might take some of that sweet stuff!” The rest of the class burst out into uncontrollable laughter as Craig started to pummel Todd. She was laughing herself as she walked down the hall to the office. It was a private joke that all the male teachers were out to harass Dusty. Not only was this true, but it had almost happened. Craig had been there to save her, bless his heart. She still remembered the blow Craig had dealt to the math teacher, Mr. Chester. Mr. Chester was now in jail, and Craig was now seen as the hero of the school.
	The sight of Mr. Summers, the principal, standing at the door waiting for her made Dusty’s heart rise into her mouth. The look on his face was one of pity, and instantly Dusty knew what was wrong. No, not Daddy!
	The days following her dad’s heart attack had been anxious, and high-strung. The doctors weren’t sure whether or not he would live. Something had happened.
	“Dusty, I hate to be the one to tell you this…” Mr. Summers began. He swallowed hard and continued painfully. “But some…complications have arisen regarding your father. He…he…he passed away about an hour ago. Is there anyone you would like me to dismiss to go home with you? Jessi, perhaps?”
	Dusty held in her tears. She was not going to cry in front of this worm of a man. There was only one person in this entire school that she could cry in front of. She needed to be held. In a thick voice, she told Mr. Summers, “Yes, could you call Craig Mueller?”
	The principal looked stunned. “But…but…are you sure that your parents—mother, I mean—would be fine with him going home with you?”
	Dusty drew herself up as best she could. “Mr. Summers. Craig is my best friend, and I’m sure that both of my parents would approve of him consoling me. There’s no one in this entire city I would be more comfortable letting into my home.”
	Mr. Summers went to the secretary and instructed her to call Craig down to the office, and tell him to pack up his books for the day. The call went out quickly.
	“Craig Mueller to the office please, Craig Mueller to the office with his books.”
	Dusty couldn’t help smiling as she thought of the scene that was taking place in class right now. Then she spied Craig heading down the hall, coat slung over his shoulder, work in the other hand being put into a knapsack. When he saw Dusty, however, he dropped everything and let her run to him. She let herself be swept into his arms, and began to cry. Craig held her like that for several minutes until she looked up at him.
	Dusty sniffed. “Thanks.”
	He smiled back. “No problem. It’s your dad, right?” Dusty nodded. “You wanna leave?” She nodded again. “Let’s go, then.” As they left the building, Craig turned to Mr. Summers. “Call her house if anything comes up.”
2: 37 PM Eastern Time
	The two of them arrived at Dusty’s house. She stopped and turned to Craig.
	“I need to talk to you.”
	“What about?”
	“Dad.”
	“It wasn’t your fault. Some things just happen.”
	“I know that, Craig. But it wasn’t natural causes that killed him. It was a challenge from Neptunium.”
	“Who?”
	Dusty quickly related the events that had occurred on Monday. Craig listened skeptically, unwilling to believe that Dusty had been contacted by an evil entity. It was not possible. Dusty summed up by saying, “She wants me to fight her. I don’t know why, but she did call me Era while she talked to me.”
	“You’re supposed to be related to this Era person, right?”
	“Yeah…”
	“Maybe he fought Neptunium when he was alive, and she’s out to get you now.”
	Dusty opened her mouth to reply, but then they both noticed the storm clouds overhead. An ominous rumbling shook the ground, and the sky was lit up by an explosion of lightning. Dusty quickly unlocked the door and slipped inside with Craig behind her. No sooner had they closed the door the clouds released the rain. 
It came down in sheets, tearing leaves off trees. Suddenly the tempo increased, and the rain became a mixture of large hailstones and stinging raindrops that stripped the weakest trees of their branches. Craig and Dusty headed into the living room, sat down on the couch, and turned on the TV.
They assumed their usual position for sitting together, Dusty with her head on Craig’s shoulder, his arm around her. The reception on the television was awful, but they listened intently to the news.
“Prominent lawyer Richard Slosovic died in hospital today,” droned the newscaster. Craig reached for the remote, but Dusty stopped him.
“I want to hear this.”
“The official cause of death has not been released as of yet, but circulating rumors point to a heart attack. Wife Lisa Slosovic has no comment except this.”
The face of Dusty’s mother appeared on the screen. Her usual tidy bun was disheveled and her makeup smeared. Dusty leaned forward to hear what this seemingly strong woman who was her mother had to say.
“Screw the media. You can all take your microphones and cameras and shove them up your—” At this point, a loud ‘BEEEEEP’ blocked the rest of the sentence. “I don’t care about anything else at this point except the death of my husband.”
“But what about your daughter?” A reporter with a mustache questioned Mrs. Slosovic.
“My daughter is a well-brought-up young woman and I have confidence that she will survive this tragedy. She has a very supportive friend who I know will help her in every way that he can. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a court battle with the Medical Doctors of Salem.”
The face of the newscaster flickered back onto the screen. “Later to come: The  Slosovics in Salem, and their heritage.”
Dusty flicked the TV off and settled back onto the couch.
“Well, that’s your mother for you. Declaring war on the entire medical community. The next few days should be very interesting,” Craig smirked.
Dusty ignored him. “Can you believe the nerve? How can they do that? Put our entire family history on television for everyone to see without our permission! What pigs!”
Craig squeezed her shoulders. “It’ll be okay.” At that exact moment a blast of lightning and thunder shook the house. The lights flickered unsteadily before going out. Dusty’s house plunged into darkness.
“Craig?”
“I’m still right here beside you. I didn’t get up and leave or anything.”
Dusty lightly punched in the direction of his voice. “I know that, dumb-ass. There are some candles in the kitchen we can light. I think that there’s a flashlight somewhere in the garage.” She led the way towards the kitchen.
They lit the candles and placed them all over the house until they could see almost normally. 
Dusty approached Craig from the room she had been in. 
“We need to do something. I have a score to settle with the bitch they call Neptunium.”
3:14 PM Eastern Time
“Dusty, are you insane? You can’t do anything.” Craig protested as Dusty rummaged though her closet for the Ouija board.
“Watch me.” She emerged victorious from the bottom clutching the board. “She’s the Queen of the underworld, right? And she fought Era, like, a hundred years ago, right? She’s gotta be dead. This is the only way I can think of to contact her.”
Craig shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “Whatever.”
“You have to help too, you know.”
He groaned and placed his fingers on the board. “If any of the guys at school found out about this, I’d never live it down.”
“So you mean that they don’t care that you come over to my house a lot?”
“No comment.” Craig pushed his hair off his forehead and replaced his hand on the talisman. 
“Neptunium, Queen of all Darkness, are you with us?” Dusty closed her eyes. Craig muffled a snort of laughter.
He stopped smirking, however, when the indicator moved slowly across the board. Craig raised his eyes to Dusty, who looked just as fearful. “Did you do that?” He whispered. She shook her head, slowly taking her fingers off the indicator. Craig followed her example, and they both stared in shock as the pointer continued to move, landing on ‘no’. Dusty grabbed a pen and a pad of paper to write down what the spirit told them.
“Who—who are you?” Her voice shook.
The piece took its time in answering, moving painfully slow across the board. Dusty showed Craig the paper as she wrote. I am Plutonium. Neptunium is my twin sister. You cannot contact her. She is not dead. I am dead.
“How did you die?” They both knew the answer before Plutonium answered.
Neptunium killed me in a fight for the throne. My body lies inside her secret chamber, where she keeps The Scrolls. The Scrolls tell all that has happened, and all that is to be. 
Dusty cleared her throat. “So she knows of the fight I am to have against her?”
Plutonium seemed to think. No. The Scrolls do not show the Battle on May 10th, 1999. They end on that date. Do you know who you are? 
“What do you mean?” Dusty looked at Craig quizzically.
You are The Girl. You fight Neptunium. The fate of the world lies in your hands. Plutonium appeared to be excited, as the indicator picked up speed. It became a blur, whizzing around until Craig began to smell the board burning from friction. 
If you lose, Neptunium will suck your soul from you body and then she will have destroyed the last of the Ageless Ones. There will be nothing to stop her from forcing the entire world into slavery for her. None of your worthless armies can stop her. Only you can. Era was strong, but he let anger get in the way of his fighting. Neptunium does that. She will kill the thing you hold most dear and use your emotions against you. 
“What about me?” Craig had to know what part it was that he had in this.
Plutonium sat silent for a while. Finally, with less fervor, she answered. Your fate is that of Kavin. 
“Kavin?”
The guardian of Era. He gave his life to help Era. It was his own decision, and he was most loyal to his master. You have his strength, but you are not sure how to use it. Be wary of false allies. They will lead you into doom. The cursor stopped.
“Plutonium?” Dusty raised her eyebrows at Craig.
The board remained silent. She went to put the indicator in the box, but drew her hand back. In a flash of lightning, Dusty saw that her hand was covered in blood.
8:47 PM Eastern Time
	“Hi, honey, I’m home.” A tired and rumpled Mrs. Slosovic came into the house. Dusty was still coping about her conversation with Plutonium, the death of her father, and was not particularly in the mood to talk. She grunted a reply and returned to her homework. Anything to keep her mind off the day’s events.
	“What, no ‘hi, Mom, I miss Dad’?” 
	Dusty sat silent, her eyes slowly welling up with tears. Before she could stop herself, the tears let themselves loose, leaving her bawling there at the kitchen table. “I miss him so m-much!” She managed to blubber out. 
Lisa Slosovic held her only daughter. “Shh, I know…I miss him too.”
The pair sat like that, long into the early hours of the morning. Never in her entire life did Mrs. Slosovic ever feel more alone without her husband at her side. Never did Dusty ever feel more empty without her father to fill that inner gap.
Chapter 7: Allies
Salem, Massachusetts. Friday, May 7th, 1999.
The new boy arrived at school that day. All of them took interest in him; it was not every day that someone new came. Dusty’s group, in particular was enticed by this strange new person, whose strange looks and strange manner added to his appeal. Savannah, especially, was coming on to him with unusual vigor. 
His name was Martin. An outlandish name, amongst all the Jakes and Brads of the school. Martin had something about him; something that turned heads. There was nothing special about him at first glance. He had average brown eyes, average tanned skin, average cinnamon hair. Nothing special; nothing worth drooling over. But Dusty could feel it. Her knack for these sorts of things was uncanny. Dusty could feel the distinctive vibes radiating off him. They touched everyone he spoke to, everyone who looked at him. 
Word got around that Martin was from Iceland. In her heart, Dusty knew that that wasn’t true. Martin was hiding something from the small group of friends he had managed to round up by third period, and she was going to find out what it was. 
12: 17 PM Eastern Time
She cornered Martin at lunch behind the bleachers. Lucky for her, he was smoking and alone, so she could break the ice real easy. 
“Can I bum a smoke?” She casually asked. 
He handed one over silently. After taking a few contemplative puffs, he spoke. “Okay, what do you want. Are you asking me out or are you doing it for a friend?”
Dusty was taken aback. “God, you are the most self-centered person I’ve ever met.”
Martin smiled wryly. “Whatever. I’ve had chicks coming up to me all day, ever since they found out I was here. News travels fast in your school.”
She noticed that he spoke with an accent that was definitely not Icelandic. It reminded her more of her dad’s accent, faint yet unmistakably there. What was it…? Dusty shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah. It’s not every day that we get someone from Iceland.” She made sure to look at him skeptically. 
“That’s a load of BS. I’m from somewhere in Europe.”
“Yugoslavia?”
“The former. How’d you know? I didn’t tell anyone.”
“My dad is—was—from there.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I can pretty much tell who’s from there.”
“You said you dad was. Why isn’t he anymore?”
Dusty looked at the ground. The cigarette, still unlit, fell from her fingers. She collapsed against the fence, her face on her hands. “Oh, God. I miss him so much,” she whispered. “He died yesterday. In the hospital. He had a heart attack on Monday…”
Martin sat beside her and looked intently into her face. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Dusty stood up suddenly, turning away from Martin. “You’re right. I know that, but I can’t let him die in vain. He was killed…”
Martin snorted. “Yeah, sure. In a hospital. You’re out of your mind, whatever your name is.”
Dusty turned to him, her eyes flashing. There were no more tears in them. “Dusty.”
“What?”
“My name is Dusty. And he was killed. I know who did it, too. She’s out to get me, I’m supposed to fight her. Look,” she abruptly blurted out, “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. You’ve only been here one day, and I barely know you, and God only knows you barely know me…” She prattled on.
Martin cut in. “Whoa, don’t you think that’s a little extreme? I mean, some chick kills your dad because you won’t fight her? How tough is this school?”
“No, no, it’s not like that. She doesn’t go to Salem High. Okay, this is really going to sound stupid. Her name is Neptunium—” 
Martin held up his hand. His face had gone pale. “Did you just say Neptunium?”
“Oh, no, you think I’m a loony, don’t you?”
“No, no! It’s just that Neptunium is the Queen of the Underworld—supposedly—in Serbia. It’s an old fable that goes back for centuries.”
“Yeah, well, that ‘fable’ isn’t.” Dusty sat back down. She saw Craig coming over, his hands in his pockets. “Hi!” She called. 
Martin glanced in the direction. He scowled suddenly. “Who’s that?”
“Craig.” Dusty jumped up and ran to Craig, enveloping him in a hug. When she had finished, she led him back to Martin. “Craig, this is Martin, he’s new. I was just telling him about the…thing.”
“Hey,” responded Craig, getting that look that clearly meant, ‘She’s mine, back off.’ “I’ve seen you around.”
Martin grunted back.
Dusty looked uneasily between them. She could see that the two guys weren’t going to get along too well.
12:46 PM Eastern Time
	After lunch had ended Craig sidled up to Martin in the hallway. Craig purposefully kept his emotions under control. He had to know what Martin knew.
	“How much do you know?” Craig asked, his jaw set and his voice level.
	Martin looked at him curiously.
	“Don’t pretend not to know. What did Dusty tell you?”
	“Enough. I also know who you are.”
	“Yeah, everybody does,” snarled Craig sarcastically. He grabbed Martin’s shirt and hoisted him into the air, at the same time slamming him into a locker. People who passed looked at Craig strangely, as he was not known for violent behavior.
“Now, are you going to tell me the truth or am I going to have to cause you bodily harm?” 
Martin threw his arms up in exasperation. “I know that you were Kavin Richardson, sworn protector of Era Slosovic. Dusty was Era himself, and me? I was just some one to help you two on your quest.”
Craig gazed at Martin with a look incredulously. “You’re wrong, Martin. No one is ever ‘just someone’. You were there, three hundred years ago. You had a part to play. You still have one. Now,” continued Craig, grabbing Martin by the throat with his other hand, “tell me who you were.”
	“Okay!” Croaked Martin. “Fine. I was Rasool, one of the seers in training. It was discovered by Sitara, who was Queen at the time, that I possessed an unusually strong ability for one so young. You see, I was only a very young child at the time, but I could predict things perfectly weeks or months before they happened. I predicted the outcome of the battle between Angel, the first Ageless One which is what you and Dusty are, and the King Densional and Queen Sitara. The Royalty lost, of course. They were killed, but that’s not the point.” Martin stopped for breath. He had been rambling. “The point is that when Sitara realized what I was, she banished me from the kingdom. I was lucky she didn’t kill me, but she always had a soft spot for me. She trained the future seers herself…”
	Craig held up a hand to stop him. “What, exactly, were you? Why were you banished?”
	Martin actually laughed. “I was an Ageless One, of course.”
1:57 PM Eastern Time
	Dusty was on her way to Biology when Craig slipped her a note before disappearing into the crowd. She opened it. Meet me in Rm. 219 during Biology. We have to talk. -Craig. A small ball of fear formed in the pit of her stomach. Something was wrong.
2:14 PM Eastern Time. Room 219.
	When Dusty slipped into the empty classroom, the room was dark. She automatically reached for the light switch, but a hand caught her wrist and held it. Her heart leapt into her mouth, blocking the way of a shriek.
	“Shut. Up.” A voice growled from the darkness. Dusty recognized it as belonging to Craig. 
	“Well, this is kinky. Us meeting in an empty room, no light, the danger of being caught, and you scaring me to death. What is this about?” She tried to keep her voice light.
	“Don’t you know?” Dusty nearly died of shock for the second time in two minutes. What was Martin doing here? She voiced the question out loud.
	“I asked him to come. He’s one of us.” The flat tone of Craig’s voice made Dusty’s flesh crawl. 
	“What are you talking about?” Slowly Dusty reached for the doorknob. If either of the guys did anything, she was gonna bolt.
	Martin sighed. “Ageless Ones, Dusty, does the name ring a bell? It should, because that’s what we are. You’re the reincarnate of Era, Craig’s actually Kavin, and I am a reject seer from the Dark Realms.”
	“You know that we have less than seventy-two hours to get to Serbia, find Neptunium, and save the world, don’t you?” Craig sat down in a desk. What was wrong with him? Where had the affectionate, polite, and protective Craig Mueller gone?
	Dusty decided to give Craig exactly what he was giving her. “Yeah, I know. But there are only three of us.”
	“So?” The boys responded together.
	“The prediction that Era gave us clearly states that four souls find mercy. I see only three. Where’s the fourth?”
	Martin looked from one to another. “That’s beside the point. We’re running out of time. Every second that we are in America is wasted time. We have to get to Europe.”
	“But…” Craig let the sentence hang in the air.
	Dusty finished it. “I have a test in trigonometry next period. Worth thirty percent of my grade, you know?”
	“Oh GOD, Dusty!” An exasperated Martin burst out. “It’s a frigging test! You can skip it! Heck, you might not even live to get your next report card! I don’t know!”
	Dusty reeled in surprise. Craig looked a little puzzled. Martin looked embarrassed. He continued in a hurried tone. “So. It’s settled. We go back to class now, and fake sick. When they send you down the nurses office, leave instead. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going, we don’t know who’s working for Neptunium. Craig,” he kept up, “go to your house and pack a suitcase. When you finish, go to Dustys house. Dusty, you stay at your place and wait for me and Craig to get there. He’ll probably get there first, I’ll be there after. Don’t worry about the flight plans; I’ll take care of that—”
	Dusty cut him off. “Whoa, whoa. What flight plans?”
	“We’re flying to Serbia, of course,” was the reply. Dusty stood there with her mouth hanging open. Craig fell out of the desk.
2:34 PM Eastern Time
	Dusty slipped back into her Biology seat next to Brian. Just the sight of his sky-blue eyes was enough to make all her worries slip away. He passed her a note when he leaned over to kiss her cheek. Rough week, huh?
	Yeah, it’s been tough, she wrote back. Dad dying and all, it’s been a CRAPPY week. I’ve never felt worse. She passed the note.
	The reply came quickly. You LOOK fine. Sorry about your dad. The funeral’s Wednesday, right?
	Yeah, I might not be there, though.
	At your own fathers' funeral? Why?
	I’m going somewhere this weekend.
	Where?
	Promise not to tell anyone?
	Babe, you know me! Have I ever done anything that goes against you? (Except in the sack, of course! ;)
	Enough with the sexual tension and innuendo, Brian. I’m serious. Can I trust you?
	Yeah, you can.
	I’m going to Serbia.
	Brian read this over. Dusty watched him. He furrowed his brow, then something went through his eyes. Something dark. Something cold. Something evil. 
	But the look passed as soon as it had come. Brian’s eyes returned to their normal hue, and he wrote on the note. Cool. Can I come?
	Dusty considered this. Brian certainly was protection from whatever they might come up against. She was pretty certain Craig wouldn’t mind. Martin wouldn’t; he didn’t even know who Brian was! 
Yeah, sure, why not? We’ve gotta go now though. Get out of class.
2:39 PM Eastern Time
	Dusty and Brian were out of the school before they saw Craig and Martin. Dusty opened her mouth to call to them, but Brian put his hand over her mouth. 
	“No need. So, where are we going?”
	“You go home and pack a suitcase or something. I’m going to my house and we all meet up there.”
	“We?”
	“Me, Martin, Craig, and I guess you, too.”
	“Jeez, Dusty. I thought this was going to be a romantic getaway for just the two of us.”
	She pushed him away. “Well, it isn’t. if you want to come you have to play by Martin’s rules. He’s in charge of this whole thing.”
	“I don’t need to pack anything, so I’ll just come home with you.”
	Dusty hesitated. Gone was the playful tone he used to tease her. In its place was a heartless command. It scared her, and she wondered if Brian wanted to come over to do something else besides wait. “No, Brian, I don’t think so. How about if you go and pick up take-out or something? I know I like sushi. Here,” she said, reaching for her wallet, “I’ll even give you the money. Go to Won-Ton’s Sushi House,” she instructed, “and get something.”
	He walked away in the direction of the bus stop, glaring at her. Once he rounded the corner, Dusty ran to her house.
2:56 PM Eastern Time
	Once he had gotten out of Dusty’s sight, Brian raised his watch to his face and pressed a button. “Brian here.”
	The watch face vanished suddenly, leaving the face of Sinlax on the monitor. He cleared his throat before continuing. “Sinlax. Do you have anything to report?”
	“I have discovered that The Girl is heading for Serbia.”
	“Ha! You waste my time with simple facts. We already know she is to come here. What else have you learned? If that is the extent of your report, The Queen will not be merciful.”
	“Sinlax, you underestimate me. She is heading there today on a plane. She will be accompanied by Craig and myself.”
	“Young fool, we know already of this.”
	“The fool here is that who says so. She has gained an unexpected ally. Do you remember, when you were in training to be a seer, a young trainee by the name of Rasool?”
	Brian was rewarded by the gasp from Sinlax. “Yes, yes I do. He inexplicably disappeared and never returned.”
	“He’s come back, this time by the name of Martin. He is part of this thing that they must do.”
	“Good work, Brian. Make sure that they do not make it to the Kingdom. They must not succeed.”
	“Sinlax,” inquired Brian, “do you think that Queen Neptunium would approve of you undermining that which is written?”
	“What she does not know stays hidden,” Sinlax snarled. “As long as you breathe you tell no one.”
	“Loose lips cannot be tied down.”
	Sinlax sighed and ran a hand through his thinning mousy-brown hair. “What do you want in exchange for your silence?”
	Brian smiled grimly. “The guarantee that I will rule the Underworld at the end of the battle.”
	Sinlax visibly faltered. “I…I make no promises.”
	“You’d better. Brian out.” He switched off his communicator and got on the waiting bus. 
Chapter 8: A Homecoming
Salem, Massachusetts. Friday, May 7th, 1999. 
3:46 PM Eastern Time Salem International Airport
	“Craig, are you sure that Martin said Gate 12? What if he said Gate 11? Or—or Gate 19?” Dusty ran behind Craig, struggling with a large suitcase, carry-on bag, and a leather briefcase.
	He looked back, managing easily with his own knapsack and a small overnight bag. The sight of Dusty overwhelmed by luggage made him laugh. “Oh, Dusty. Can’t you travel light for once?”
	“Shut up,” she retorted through clenched teeth. This only made him howl louder, as the retort was muffled by the baggage. “The least you could do is help me here,” she complained. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to lug bags that weigh twice as much as you do?”
	“No, I don’t. I packed what I needed. What’s in that big one, anyway?”
	She set it down and sat on it, gasping for air. “Oh, the usual,” she puffed between breaths. “Enough clothes for a weekend, maybe a little longer, toiletries, entertainment, stuff.”
	He grabbed her arm and hoisted her up. “I’ll take the briefcase and you keep what you’ve got. And trust me, Martin said Gate 12.”
	The droning voice of the announcer drifted out of the speaker. Attention, passengers. Flight 116 to London on American Airlines departs in ten minutes from Gate 12… She carried on, announcing the rest of the flights.
	They continued to run, driven on by the fact that they had ten minutes to get on the plane. As they rounded the next corner, Craig caught sight of Martin and Brian—what was he doing here?—leaning against a post, waiting for them. Martin did not look happy to see Brain, but brightened at the sight of Craig and Dusty. He raised his hand in greeting, and Craig waved back.
	“Hey, guys,” gasped Dusty as she joined them. 
	Martin lost no time in addressing the point. “What the hell is Brian doing here? I came here early and here he was, saying that he was coming with us to Serbia. Is this your doing?” He looked straight at Dusty.
	She threw up her hands in exasperation. “I thought he might be the fourth to join us. Besides, what’s the harm?”
	“The harm is that he—” 
	Dusty cut off the rest of his sentence. “I’m The Girl, okay? The fate of the world lies in my perfectly manicured hands. The least you can do is let me take care of this.”
	Martin backed off. But the look in his eyes told Craig that it was only for now.
4:36 PM Eastern Time. Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean.
	A small noise broke into Dusty’s dream. She stirred in her sleep and slowly opened her eyes. She focused on Craig pulling down the meal tray from the back of the seat. He smiled at her when he saw that she was awake.
	“Morning, sleepyhead.”
	Dusty sat up, still groggy from sleep. “Morning already?” She asked.
	He finished struggling with the tray and started on hers. “Nope. About 4:40, our time. We’ve already passed through three time zones. I’ve been counting.”
	Dusty noticed the laptop computer sitting on his lap. “That’s yours?”
	“Did your little nap wipe out your memory or something? It’s yours. Or should I say, it’s your dads. You were the one who wanted to bring it.”
	“Oh, yeah, now I remember.” The memories of that day came to her in a rush, and she flopped back onto the pillow the flight attendant had given her at the start of the flight. 
	She was about to sleep again when the head of Brian popped over the back of the seat. He grinned at her. “Hey.”
	She groaned. “Why can’t a girl get some sleep?” She protested.
	Martin was the next one to lean over from two seats away. “Hey, guys, let her sleep. She’s tired. Besides, I need the laptop, Craig.”
	Craig looked pleadingly at Dusty. “Can I keep it?”
	“No. Let Martin have it. And let me sleep.” She turned over and gazed out the window. Nothing but blue ocean stretching out to the horizon and beyond. Will I ever see that again? She wondered.
6:05 PM Eastern Time. London, England
	“Flight 214 from London to Belgrade departs from Gate six in thirty minutes,” announced the intercom. 
	Dusty moaned and sipped her Pepsi. “I can’t believe that we’re in London and we can’t go anywhere!”
	Brian slipped his arm around her waist and said comfortingly, “At least Marty got us those tickets, right, man?”
	Martin glared at him. “The name’s Martin, bucko, and the only reason you’re here is because I managed to buy your ticket off that other guy.”
	Craig sneered at Brian. “Get your hands where they belong.”
	Brian smirked right back. “They are.”
	Craig stood up and lunged at Brian. “That’s it!” He snarled. Craig would have ripped Brian’s throat out if Martin hadn’t grabbed his shirt.
	“Cool, it, Craig. We’ve got a long way to go and you can’t hurt him. Yet.”
	Dusty stared at Craig. The other patrons in the airport restaurant stared right along with her. “What’s wrong with you?” She hissed.
	Craig stopped struggling with Martin and hung his head. “I just want you to be happy.”
	She swallowed. “I am.”
	Brian broke the potentially threatening atmosphere. “We should go look around. Fifteen minutes, maybe, then get on the plane?”
	The rest of them agreed with him reluctantly. They stood up from the table and left the restaurant, Dusty and Brian leading—Brian’s arm around Dusty—Martin and Craig behind. Martin murmured loud enough for Dusty to hear, “But are you happy?”
7:13 PM Eastern Time. Flying over Germany
	Martin awoke to the sight of Dusty staring out the window. Her eyes were moist, sad.
	“My dad loved Germany. He always wanted to take us to Berlin for a holiday, but Mom never let him.” She sniffled and then chuckled nervously. “Bratwurst. How Dad loved bratwurst. Saturday nights we used to barbecue outside. Dad would cook the usual hot-dogs and hamburgers, but somehow he always managed to sneak in a few pieces of bratwurst. Sometimes Craig’s family came over, too.”
	He leaned over and touched her arm. “You really loved him, didn’t you?”
	Dusty turned to him, her eyes shining with tears. “I still do.” She turned back to the window. “Do you think you could change seats with Craig?”
	“Sure.” He got up and went to where Craig and Brian were sitting. It wasn’t going well between them. Dusty had insisted that they sit together, to try and work out their differences. It obviously hadn’t worked. “Craig, Dusty wants you to sit with her. She seems pretty shaken up.” 
	Craig rose, and Brian quickly interjected, “I’ll go.”
	Craig faced him. “She specifically asked for me. I’ll call you if she wants to get laid, though,” he added sarcastically.
	He sat beside Dusty. “What’s up?”
	“I’m thinking about Dad. Neptunium is going to pay for what she has done to me.” The normally easygoing Dusty clenched her fists in anger, leaving fingernail marks on the arms of her seat. “There’s going to be some payback.”
 “Don’t forget, Dusty, you might not beat her,” Craig said cautiously. “Era didn’t beat her, and he actually knew how to fight with a sword.”
“I have to beat her, Craig. I have to. For Dad. For Plutonium. For everyone, Craig. Can’t you see that?”
He paused. Finally he answered her slowly. “Yeah, I guess I do.” 
8:32 PM Eastern Time. Belgrade, Serbia
	“Finally,” cried Brian in an exaggerated tone. “I come to me homeland!” He fell to his knees, arms flung wide. “It so good to be off plane,” he cracked in an imitation accent.
	Martin and Craig groaned, rolling their eyes. “Okay, so maybe it was a long flight,” said Martin. “That still doesn’t mean that you have to mock the country. Or act like the usual idiot that Craig tells me you are.”
	“Yeah,” chimed in Dusty. “Act your age.”
	Brian rose to his feet, swept Dusty up in his arms, and began to kiss her; a long, passionate kiss. He was stopped by Craig pushing him.
	“For the last time, Brian, I want you to keep your hands and lips off her when I’m around.”
	“What’s wrong, Craig-man? Jealous that she’s into me and not you?” He turned away, still holding Dusty.
	Martin listened to Craig mutter under his breath, “Yeah. Of course I’m jealous, you walking hunk of jock. She’s been my best friend for years and I was planning on asking her out before you came onto the scene and took her away.” He kept muttering, turning towards Martin. When Craig saw that Martin was staring at him, he turned pink and grabbed some luggage, stammering something about customs.
9:06 PM Eastern Time. Flying towards Priština
	Brian arose from his seat next to Craig. “I gotta piss.”
	“That’s nice, but you don’t have to be so blatant about it.” 
	Brian walked towards to back of the plane, where the toilets were. Once inside, he turned on his watch. “Brian.”
	Once more, the watch face flickered. But instead of Sinlax appearing, Neptunium did. She smiled; a heartless and cruel smile. “Hello, Brian.”
	He gasped. “My…my Queen. How are you?”
	“Fine, traitor.” She ignored Brian’s pale face and shaking features. “I understand you wish to have my throne.”
	“No, no, Your Highness. Never.”
	“Good. How is your flight?”
	“Pleasant enough. That little imbecile Craig is a problem, though.”
	“Of course he is. He is the embodiment of Kavin Richardson. That child was a tough little fighter.”
	“Is there anything I should do?”
	“Do not let them sleep too long in Priština. I want them to get here as soon as possible. I am counting on you, Brian. Do not disappoint me.”
	“No, my Queen.” He allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief when the face of Neptunium faded out of focus. Brian opened the door to the cabin of the plane and headed back to his seat.
	“Have a nice time?” Asked Craig sarcastically.
	“Yeah. Last time I ever drink that much.”

Behind them, a few seats back, sat Dusty and Martin. They had just finished their third round of poker and Dusty was losing. Three piles of Skittles sat between them; one being Martin’s chips (which was considerably large), the middle being the bets, and the third being Dusty’s pile (which was considerably small). 
“Screw this,” announced Dusty, throwing down her cards. “I fold.”
“Bad hand?” Martin studied his own cards. He had a royal flush.
“You’re cheating. I know that you see my cards.”
“How?”
“You’re psychic, dummy. How else am I losing?”
Martin grinned. “Maybe you just plain suck.”
Dusty started to pummel him. Her laughter turned serious, however, when she looked out the window. “Look.”
Below them lay a vast range of mountains, far more rugged and wild than the Appalachians she knew at home. The twisted spires of their peaks seemed to reach up to the plane, beckoning them to come and visit. Even through the steel shell of the fuselage Dusty could hear the howling of the wind, a tormented soul looking for kindred.
Beside her, Martin drew a sharp intake of breath at the sight. “These are the Dinaric Alps. An impassable chain of mountains, they occupy the lower extremities of Serbia.”
“How do you know this?”	
Martin smiled faintly. “I used to live here. When Queen Sitara banished me, I lived in these exact same mountains until I died. They were inhospitable even then, and even less now. No one lives here. Priština is the closest city to the Dinaric Alps, so we fly there, then hike to the mountains.”
“The prophecy that Era gave me says something about going down a road, ‘road as the snake winds’. Any roads?”
“There is one main road, and I do know that there is another road branching off from it. The only way I know this is because that’s the road I came down from.”
Dusty looked at Martin, interest in her eyes. “I don’t think you died in these mountains. The rest of us can never remember anything from our past lives, but you can describe everything. How is that, Martin?”
“Fine,” he replied, leaning back into his seat. “While I was trapped in the Dinaric mountains, I discovered a cave. It’s hidden so far in the rock, I was the first human being to ever explore it. What I found in there was the secret to immortality—mainly, that to long life.”
“So, you never die?”
“Oh, no, I will die, it will just be a long time. For instance, I was twelve when I was cast out. I found the cave about two months later. Since I drank some of the water in there, I have aged only two years.”
“But how is that possible? What about the rest of the Kingdom?”
“They age one year for every twenty. Neptunium was sixteen when she fought Era, and now she has the appearance of someone who is twenty-one. I am only fourteen in comparison.”
They paused as the flight attendant came by with the dinner cart. When he left, Martin continued. “I am going to be around for a long time, Dusty. Well, I shouldn’t say that. I am getting bad visions of the battle that’s to come. There’s not going to be a lot of happiness. And Brian isn’t exactly the most loyal person in the world, either. Dusty, he’s not on our side.”
“Yeah, sure, Martin,” answered Dusty sarcastically. 
“Dusty, what do you really know about Brian?”
“Not much, but…”
“His parents are dead.”
“Of course they are,” Dusty laughed. “I’ve seen his house. And he’s supposed to have done that, and kept it up for over a year?”
“He’s not stupid, no matter what his academic record says. I know that Brian’s planning to take over the Dark Kingdom after this is all over. He’s a fool, but a shrewd one.”
“So what can we do?”
“Nothing. You especially can’t tell him of your suspicions. And Dusty,” Martin added, “be careful. He may seem to love you, but he’s only going to kill you in the end, one way or another.”
“Now landing in Priština.” The voice of the pilot came over the intercom.
Chapter 9: Priština
Priština, Serbia. Saturday, May 8th, 1999.
7:46 AM Eastern Time. Mountain Vista Motel. Room 5
	“Get up, all of you.” Dusty raised her head to see Brian throw open the ratty curtain. Sunlight spilled into the room, lighting the dingy surroundings.
	Whump! Whump! Brian was hit twice by the pillows that Craig and Martin threw at him. “Close those curtains and let us sleep if you want to live,” snarled Craig. Martin mumbled basically the same thing.
	“No way. We’ve got to get moving.” Brian continued to turn on lights and appliances. A pot of coffee was brewing, and the TV blared.
	Dusty buried her head in the pillow, praying for just a few more minutes of sleep. She sensed Brian coming over to wake her and she lifted a hand without moving her head. “Take one step closer and I’ll decapitate you on site.” He backed off.
	She drifted into a light doze, but was awoken by shouting.
	“Are you mental or something?” Craig was demanding. “It’s not even eight in the morning and you’re waking us up? We flew in here at nine-thirty. We checked into the hotel two hours later. We didn’t get to sleep until after two because you had to complain about everything and then insist that we go eat something. At two! We’ve got the worst case of jet lag ever recorded. And yet here we are, in a shabby hotel room, the toxic air streaming in, at seven-fifty. Who’s to blame? YOU!” He was pacing. “You weren’t even invited. You invited yourself! And to make things worse, you come in here and start feeling up Dusty and seducing her so you can get your cheap X-rated thrills. Who do you think you are? Every single guy in Salem knows that she’s mine.”
	“I don’t exactly see her with a brand saying, ‘property of Craig Mueller.’”
	Dusty bit her lip. So Craig liked her! Oh God, she thought. And all this time I’ve been concentrating on Brian, thinking that Craig only thought of me as a friend. What an idiot I’ve been! But she stayed still, listening.
	“That’s beside the point. You knew she belonged to Craig. You should’ve backed off.” Good old Martin. Always the mediator. “Brian’s right, Craig. We’ve got to leave. Priština’s nice and all, but we’ve got to get moving.”
	Dusty chose that moment to sit up. “Hi, guys!” She smiled and got out of bed. She chuckled inwardly at the look on Craig’s face. He was as red as a tomato from ear to ear, and his mouth hung open practically to his knees. “Craig? What’s wrong?”
	“N-nothing. I’m just thinking that you should put on some pants or something.”
	Dusty looked down and swore. All that she was wearing was a long T-shirt that hung down to mid-thigh. Of course, it had to hike up. “All of you, leave. I want to get dressed.” The boys left, looking sheepish. Dusty rummaged around in her suitcase, seeking something to wear. She emerged with a pair of faded jeans, and a halter top that showed off her tight, bronzed stomach.
	Once dressed, she decided to rummage the luggage of Brian and Martin. She started with Brian’s. “Hmm, let’s see here…” She spoke aloud as she searched. “Pair of jeans, some shirts—eek!” She screamed and recoiled from the suitcase. There, lying on top  of some socks, was a skull. She poked at it, and yelped again as it lit up. From the eyes came two strong beams of light, landing on the opposite wall.
	The wispy figure of a person began to form. “Brian, I thought I said not to use the skull unless it was an emergency,” the figure began, but stopped when she saw Dusty. “You! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
	“Me?”
	“Oh, I see, you’re the telekinetic one. Never mind.”
	“Tele-whatsit?”
	The figure sighed. “I wasn’t told how dense you were. Telekinesis. The power to move things using only the mind. Get it?”
	“Sure…”
	“I am Noria, the Seventh Seer, under service to Queen Neptunium, ruler of the Dark Kingdom. And you are…?”
	Dusty thought fast. Neptunium knew who she was, and if this Noria told her that she made contact with the telewhatsit person named Dusty, Neptunium would do something very, very bad. “Amy,” she answered finally.
	“Pleased to meet you, Amy. Now, let’s get things straight. You have the power to control things using only the mind. It’s a powerful tool, Amy. It needs to be treated with respect. You can move anything if your telekinesis is strong enough. And trust me, yours is extremely strong. If anything, it’s the strongest that’s ever been recorded.”
	“But I thought that you’re on Neptunium’s side. What are you doing helping me?”
	“You can change this thing around, Amy. You are more than a country hick that mends fences.”
	“What?”
	“You know what I mean. Amy, you are meant to do more than live in Montana on a cattle ranch. You are the first block in this whole thing. You must help Dusty. She is your only hope to live.” Noria stopped, and looked to the right. “I can talk no longer,” she whispered fearfully, “I am being watched. Keep your footing, little Amy of the Mountains. Keep your footing.” 
	The image of Noria faded, until the skull’s light died. Dusty placed the skull back into Brian’s bag with shaking hands. So, Amy really did exist. She would have to ask Martin about Amy. Noria made it sound like Amy was the fourth person. Whatever telekinesis was, it was extremely powerful. 
Dusty locked up the room behind her and went downstairs to meet up with the boys.
“Hi. Did you order?” She slid into the seat between Martin and Craig, ignoring Brian’s shocked look. Craig smirked across the table at him.
“Yeah. Craig said that you like something high in fat.” Martin toyed with a fork, not looking her in the eye.
“Craig!”
“Well you did mention that you like Eggs Benedict with hollandaise sauce, and bacon.” He looked at the floor.
“And when was this?” Brian looked up suddenly and fixed his eyes on Dusty’s midriff.
“This was when she spent the weekend at my house because her parents were out of town a few months back. Our families have been really good friends for years.” Craig followed Brian’s eyes, saw where they were looking, and put his arm around Dusty to block the sight of her stomach.
Brian got fire in his eyes and was about to start a fight when the waitress came over with their meals.
“Here y’all go. Eggs Benedict with hollandaise sauce and bacon, waffles with extra syrup, buttermilk pancakes, and a Lumberjack Supreme.” She set the latter down in front of Martin, and his eyes bulged at the sight of what he had ordered. The waitress laughed, her voice like bells. “It’s okay. I get a lot of people, especially Americans, who come in and order this. I have yet to see one person who finishes it.”
Martin forgot his colossal breakfast and turned his attention to the pretty employee who had served it. “You have an interesting accent. Are you from around here?”
She laughed again, her attention completely on Martin. What a ladies man, Dusty thought. “No, I was born in Montana. I just moved here against the wishes of my family temporarily.”
Dusty’s eyes enlarged. This girl was sounding a lot like the girl Noria had described. Could it be?…
“Why did you move here?” Brian interjected, trying to turn the attention of the girl to him.
“I’m not sure. I just felt this pull, saying, ‘Go to Priština and find Era.’ Well, I’ve been here a week and no one by the name of Era has come in here.”
“So, what’s your name?” Dusty had to know. It was the key to the whole thing.
“Amy. Amy Johnston. By the way, what are four underaged teenagers doing in Priština?”
Before anyone could stop him, Craig blurted out, “We’re on a mission to save the world.”
Amy’s reaction was completely unexpected. She turned white, and ran out of the room.
Martin looked at Dusty. “She’s the one. She’s the fourth. We have to get her.”
“She already knows. She’s got telekinesis.”
The other two stared at Dusty, but Martin grabbed her arm and announced that they would go find Amy. 
When they were out of the room, Martin asked her, “How did you know that Amy has telekinesis?”
Dusty quickly told him how she had found the skull and the message Noria had given Amy. He half listened, half searched the corridors of the motel for Amy. They stopped a cleaning lady and asked where she might be. They learned that Amy was probably somewhere in the kitchen. 
“I’ll go after her,” Martin said. He left Dusty in the hallway, wishing she was normal.
1:24 PM Eastern Time. Leaving Priština.
	“This is not fair,” Dusty gasped. “I’m not built to take this kind of abuse.”
	“Shut up and haul.” Martin snapped, struggling with his own equipment.
	All five of them were loaded with the gear that they needed to survive for a few days. Amy looked the best out of all of them.
	“Amy,” Brian asked, “how can you handle this weight?”
	She shrugged. “I grew up in Montana in the mountains. I hiked a lot.”
	“So how old are you, anyway?” Dusty panted.
	“Nineteen.”
	“What?”
	“You heard her, Dusty. Now move your butt and stop the chitchat.” Brian yelled down at her from his perch on a rock ledge.
	Strange, Dusty thought to herself as she climbed. It was Brian who wanted us out of Priština so quickly. I know that I’m fighting Neptunium on Monday, but there’s still time. How long could it take?
	“So, Dusty. Are you having a nice time sitting on the ledge?” Dusty jumped at the sound of Craig’s voice. They hadn’t spoken since they left Priština’s limits.
	“Yes, I am, thank you,” she replied coldly. She shouldered her pack and started looking for handholds on the rock.
	Dusty found some, and headed up the rock. She was about halfway to the next ledge when she felt her feet slip. She panicked, feet scrambling for purchase on the smooth rock. Dusty’s stomach plunged along with the rest of her as she lost her footing.
	I’m going to die! Dusty thought. The shocked face of Craig, climbing below her, rushed into focus.

	Craig thought fast. He pulled on the safety ropes that bound them to each other, in an attempt to slow Dusty’s descent. A shout from Martin proved that he was pulling hard enough. Dusty’s speed slowed dramatically. She stopped inches from the ledge face.

	Dusty opened her eyes to see the slab of rock inches from her nose. She let out a small, strangled cry and righted herself, leaning against the cliff. Craig came over to her tentatively. 
	“Are you okay?”
	Dusty said nothing. She just reached out and pulled him close. Dusty put her head on his shoulder and began to cry. Craig felt uncomfortable for a while, then relaxed and held Dusty back. 
	Martin slid down the rope to the pair. “Is she okay?”
	Dusty pushed Craig away, her face red. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
	Amy joined the trio. “I saw you fall, Dusty. Craig saved your life by pulling on those ropes. Good thinking, Craig.”
	Craig shrugged. “Anyone else would have done it. I did what I had to do.”
	Brian came down seconds later. He looked annoyed. “Dusty, how could you do something so stupid? Now you’ve set us behind schedule. We need to get to…wherever we need to go.”
	Craig stood up and went nose to nose with Brian. “She was almost killed. I don’t think you realize that without her there is no chance of us winning.”
	“Oh, I realize it, all right. I also realize that you made her slip just so you could be the hero.”
	Dusty slapped Craig across the face. “Is that true?” She yelled, slapping him again. “Is that all I am? A pawn for you get your kicks?” Her voice rose higher with each word. Amy winced as Dusty’s shrill voice echoed across the mountains.
	Martin stepped between Dusty and Craig before Dusty could push Craig off the narrow slab. “Dusty, listen to me—”
	“No. You listen to me! I listened to you guys talk this morning. I know what you think of me. And I know that I have no choice but to keep going, but I’m going to go without you. I’ll fight her myself.” She stalked up the cliff with amazing speed, but avoiding the same path that had made her fall.
	Brian sidled up to Martin. “Keep your mouth shut, small fry. Don’t tell her what actually happened if you want to live.”
	Martin pulled away from Brian, a look of disgust on his face. “As soon as I catch Dusty I’m going to tell her, you filthy rotten traitor.”
Chapter 10: Belly of the Snake
10:34 PM Eastern Time. 
	It was dusk when they reached the Valley. The Valley was a small, flat, desolate place in the heart of the peaks. Amy stood at the brink that she had just come from, shivering in the failing sunlight. Martin stepped forward from the pack, his eyes moist.
	“I used to live here, you know.” His voice was soft. 
	Craig’s eyes wandered over the wasteland. How anyone could survive in this harsh place was beyond him. “Era’s prophecy mentioned a road, a winding road.”
	Martin laughed, an expressionless, bitter laugh. “Snakes Belly. I know it. I was practically killed on that road by a storm. Well, no use reminiscing about my lifetime in Hell. Let’s get a move on.” He shouldered the pack and trudged towards a spot in the rocks. Each of them walked behind him; each in their own thoughts.
	Brian was agitated. No, agitated wasn’t the right word. The specific word for what he felt was beyond him. The feeling resembled that of a cat before a thunderstorm: Stressed, pacing like a tiger in a cage; waiting for something that must to happen.
	Craig brooded. He had not rigged Dusty’s fall. Maybe it was an accident; maybe not. Odd of Brian to accuse him. And Dusty. He had never seen her so angry at anyone in her whole life. And what if Brian had staged her fall? Craig couldn’t prove anything. 
	Amy’s thoughts troubled her. No, that wasn’t right. Something inside her troubled her. She could feel it stirring; an ugly, evil monster waiting to be released. It clawed at the insides of her heart (for that was where she felt it was trapped), trying to escape and wreak unspeakable havoc. No, Amy told the monster, not yet. Maybe you need to be let out, but not yet. Not this soon. The answer seemed to satisfy it, for it calmed down. 
	Dusty was behind Amy, the back of the line. But if she was at the back of the line, then her thoughts were at the front of her mind. Craig. His name kept running through her mind, joined with images of their friendship. The Craig who always was there if a date stood her up for a dance. The Craig who was the first person she told when she got her period. The Craig who only gave and never took. The Craig that she realized she loved. 
	She smiled wanly at herself. Yes, LOVE. Something that she had told many guys that she didn’t mean. And yet here she was, on the top of the world, saying that she loved the guy she had known since they were both in diapers. 
	As Dusty contemplated her soul, Martin delved into himself. I was such a fool. I should have never brought them here. He looked over his shoulder at the line of teens behind him. What do they know about this place? Amy has the barest concept of what it’s like; the rest are all naïve and stupid.
	He brought the line to a stop. “We’ll camp here for the night,” he declared.
	Amy and Dusty blanched. “Here?” Amy squeaked. “On the rock?” Dusty echoed.
	The boys smirked in dry humor.
Sunday, May 9th, 1999. 1:26 AM Eastern Time
	Amy sat in front of the dying fire, staring into the coals. It was her watch, though she wasn’t sure what good she could do if something happened. The beast had awoken again, and it paced relentlessly. 
	She feared the power within her, and Dusty had told her that it was called telekinesis. For some reason the word sent a stream of memories through her, and not all were pleasant. But what could it mean? She had never lifted anything by thought alone, and had never met anyone who did. 
	The rain soaked her red hair into tendrils, and the wind whipped them in all directions. Amy shuddered and drew her groundsheet and sleeping bag more tightly around herself. Brian rose from the opposite side of the fire. He stretched, yawned, and walked over to her, letting the storm batter him. 
	“Rough night, huh?”
	Amy poked a stick into the fire, trying to rekindle it. “You don’t know the half of it.”
	“Try me.” He sat down beside her and moved closer. “You’d be surprised what an understanding guy I am.” Brian reached up and brushed her hair tenderly away from her face. “I really like you, Amy,” he said softly. “I really do.”
	She sat in frozen fear, though her conscious mind knew that she had nothing to fear from this boy who wasn’t even a man. Her subconscious mind, however, screamed out in terror. Her eyes followed his hand as it drifted down past her throat. Past her collarbone. Into her shirt, coming to rest on a place she didn’t want it. Yet still she sat, unable to move, like some sort of statue while he did this to her.
	“I really like you,” he murmured again. 
At that phrase, something inside her snapped. When she would tell the story later, she was able to address it as the beast within her. It lashed out unexpectedly, and Amy was shocked at the animal howl that tore its way out of her. The shocked look on Brian’s face was enough to tell her that something was wrong.
Unthinkingly, she lifted him into the air and was about to throw him off the mountain.
Martin grabbed her arm. “Amy, no, you can’t do this.”
She turned towards him, her eyes like ice. “Watch me.” But instead of throwing him off the cliff, she hurled him into the side of the mountain. He lay there on his side, panting. Amy walked over to him.
“That’s what happens when I get angry,” she replied coldly. “Never touched me like that again.”
“But you wanted it,” Brian started to protest, but stopped as invisible hands began to squeeze his neck.
“I could kill you right now. But I won’t, because you die later,” Amy told him. Then she released the power, and went to her bedroll. “It’s your watch, Craig,” she said simply. 
All the rest could do was stare at each other.
“Wow,” Martin said.
Sunday, May 9th, 1999. 4:45 AM Serbia Time
“Good morning, y’all,” Amy said as she climbed out of her bedroll.
Dusty and Martin exchanged uneasy glances. “Amy, about last night,” Martin began.
“Don’t worry about it. I should have told you it was your watch earlier.”
“That’s not what I meant. Do you remember what you did?”
“No…”
“What did you do to Brian?”
“Nothing.”
Craig wandered over, leading a bandaged, bruised and bleeding Brian.
Amy gasped. “I did that?”
Martin nodded slowly. “Technically yes. But you weren’t yourself. You picked him up without touching him and almost threw him off the mountain.”
She cried out suddenly and fell to the ground. She buried her face in her hands. “I almost killed him,” she whispered from between her fingers. “I was going to kill him…but you stopped me, Martin. What have I become?” She took her hands away from her face and stared at them in shock. “What can I do with these?”
Craig spoke up. “Firstly, you can lift a hundred-sixty-seven-pound boy two-hundred feet in the air. Second, you can throw him into a rock at  thirty miles per hour. And to top it all off, you did this without lifting a finger.”
Martin took off on that. “You have the power called telekinesis. Dusty tells me that you have used this before but you blocked it from your mind; it was too traumatic.”
Amy looked back and forth between Craig and Martin. “So you’re saying I can move things with my mind?”
Martin looked satisfied. “That’s exactly it.”
She looked scared. “I…I don’t know what to do.”
Dusty knelt down in front of her and lifted her chin. “You can start by accepting it.”
“You’re right, Dusty.” Amy sat up straight and seemed more like a sturdy nineteen-year-old woman and less like a frightened child. “If I’ve been given this power, I should use it. And I’m going to.”
Craig pushed Brian down into a sitting position. “How far is it to the entrance?” He asked Martin.
“A few hours if we move now.”
“Then let’s move.”
6:29 AM Serbia Time
Brian hated Craig. The pitiful weenie now had complete power over him, and Craig was enjoying it. 
They had tied him up after Amy told them what had happened. That stupid bitch wasn’t going to get away with this. The last thing he had expected to happen was this: bound and beaten by a guy who could barely get a date. Brian chuckled inwardly at this thought. Come to think of it, Craig had never even had a date!
None of that was relevant at the moment. Brian had to get out of his ropes and gain their trust again. Once he had done that, he would take a watch during the night and slash their throats while they slept. But there was still the matter of Craig. 
Craig still pursued Dusty, but with less vigor. Brian had staged her fall, counting on the fact that she would either die or be saved by Craig. Oh, yes, Craig would get what he deserved. Once Craig was out of the picture, he would be protector of them. Martin he had deemed as not a problem; Martin would stay out of the way. 
But, as with all great plans, there were setbacks. Amy was one of them. He had not counted on telekinesis. In fact, up until last night, he had never even heard of it. Amy would have killed him if Martin hadn’t stopped her. 
Martin. There was more to that wimp than a nondescript face. Martin knew all about Brian and whom he was working for. Brian guessed that he was psychic or something. If he was, then Brian was in for some problems. 
Dusty was the easiest to control. But even she was beginning to see through him. She was getting smarter. Brian had watched her wield a stick that she found as they walked towards the Dark Kingdom. Parrying and slashing, she staged mock battles with Martin. Brian had to admit that she was skilled with a sword. If she ever got her hands on a real blade… Brian swallowed. God help me if she ever figured things out. She would kill me on the spot. 
Brian hung his head and trudged on. Let them think that they have broken me. I will kill them in the end, anyway. 
“Hey!” Brian jerked his head up. Martin was shouting and pointing at something. The words became clearer. “Over there! There’s the entrance!”
“Oh goody,” Craig said sarcastically.
Dusty frowned. “Something’s wrong,” she said. “Something’s not right.” She turned to Craig. “Can’t you feel it?”
Brian could. The air seemed thick and tense. Something’s coming, he thought dully.
Amy was nervous. She picked things up with her telekinesis and moved them around. Dusty flinched as a large boulder passed over her head. 
“Could you please not do that?”
Amy levitated two boulders and moved them around in an intricate pattern. “Scared that I’m going to drop them?” She asked casually.
Dusty cringed again as the stones passed over her again. “Damn right I am.” She tried to ignore the three-ton slabs hovering over her head and pulled something out of her pack. 
Craig moved closer for a better look. Brian had no choice but to follow him. “What’s that?” Craig asked.
Dusty showed him. “It’s a copy of Era’s poem.”

On the other side of night
A child of ages will close his eyes
And open them again to find himself in another body
He will learn his path
And find his true enemy awaiting him at the end of a road
Road as a snake winds 
Deep into her dark domain
Trust the green-eyed Lord of Giarc
For he shows the way
And lays down his mortality so that She can live
Beware the one who speaks of love
For he knows not of this
Descend into the dying light
Where hollow-eyed helots serve The Dark One
Draw your sword
To slay the dragon
And jump into its mouth
Light a fire to make it cold
And lose the things you value
The Queen may fall
Or she may triumph
Four lost souls shall find mercy. 

“See, I’ve highlighted the parts that we’ve done already.”
“I have green eyes.”
“And Giarc is Craig spelt backwards. I know, we’ve been over this already. And I don’t think it means you.”
“And why not?”
“Well first off, you couldn’t find your way out of the toy store, much less a strange cave.”
Craig blushed. “I was three!”
Dusty continued. “Second, you wouldn’t die for me.”
He took her hand. “And how do you know that?”
It was Dusty’s turn to blush. “You don’t die for someone you don’t love.”
“And how do you know I don’t love you?”
“Oh for heaven’s sake!” They turned at the sound of Brian’s voice. Both of them had forgotten about him. “Shut up!”
Craig rummaged in his pack for a few seconds before throwing something at Brian. “They’re earplugs,” he told him. “Use them.” Craig turned back to Dusty.
“I do love you, Dusty. I love you more than anything in the world. And I’m willing to give up my life for you.”
“I love you too, Craig,” she answered softly. “And I would do everything I could to make sure you didn’t die. And you won’t die.” 
Craig leaned over. “I’ll die happy because you love me.”
She kissed him. After the whole thing was over, she would confess that she had no idea why she did. Fate? Maybe. Chance? Probably not. 
Dusty did know that Craig was all she had ever wished for in a guy. And now she let herself sink into the moment, letting the feel of his lips on hers etch into her memory. 
Craig pulled back. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
Dusty frowned. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“If you two are done yet, I’d like to use the facilities,” Brian said loudly.
They flushed.
7:18 AM. Inside the Entrance
The sound of dripping water echoed through the cave. Stalactites and stalagmites decorated the cavern, giving it an eerie feel. The shine of Martin’s flashlight reflected off the minerals and gems hidden in the walls and ceiling. 
Martin shuddered in apprehension. He had been here before, many ages ago when he was a boy. Of course—Martin thought as he looked at his hands—not much has changed since I left. He turned his head to the right in time to catch an inscription on a stalactite: R+V FOREVER. His heart ached for a few seconds as he thought of his first love, Ven the seer-in-training. Plutonium had killed her to get rid of the competition.
“Where to now, Martin?” Brian asked sarcastically. 
“I’m thinking,” he snapped back. “A lot changes over three hundred years.” He walked forwards, trying to get his bearings. Over there was where the entrance had once been, but now there was only rock. Martin could see no gap in the wall. His stomach sank as his heart rose in fear. 
Amy noticed his expression. “What’s wrong?”
“I…I can’t find the entrance…” He said falteringly. 
Craig turned away, his forehead furrowed. “Wait…”
Martin whirled around and stared at Craig. “Wait what?”
“I think it’s over here…” Craig began to walk further down into the bowels of the cavern. The rest looked at each other.
“Well, here goes nothing,” Amy said nervously.
They followed Craig into the darkness.
7:42 AM. Somewhere Inside the Mountain
Amy was sweating furiously as the darkness grew even thicker. She could feel the thousands of tonnes of rocks pressing down around her. Amy struggled to keep the telekinesis from getting out of hand. It seemed, to Amy, that if she wanted to she could tear this mountain apart. The thought scared her to death.
“Craig, where are we going?” Dusty’s voice cried out in the blackness.
There was no answer.
God, we are screwed—Amy thought lightly—we’re lost in the depths of God-knows-where on our way to save the world, and now Craig’s gone psycho. Whoopie! 
Craig’s voice floated from further on. “Oh, my God. Martin, come look at this.”
Martin pushed past Amy, with Brian in tow. Brian gave her a murderous eye as he passed. Not to be left behind, Amy and Dusty followed them, to join with the trio of boys on the brink of a cliff.
“What is it?” Brian spoke the question they were all thinking.
“I…I don’t know…I’ve never seen it before…” Martin paled.
Below them lay a sprawling grotto. It had the length of several football fields, and was about one mile wide. Large stalactites hung from the ceiling. Amy could see light coming from the end of the cave. Craig turned to face them.
“See? I knew where to go.”
Dusty shook her head and highlighted another line on the copy of Era’s prediction.
8:29 AM. In the Grotto.
They had found a small stream running through the sandy ground, and set up camp near it.
“I don’t like this,” Martin said. “Something should be here, something’s missing.”
“Like what?” Craig bit into a sandwich.
“I know,” Amy said as she stretched her long legs out. “When is a door not a door?”
“When it’s ajar,” Brian piped up from his position (tied to a rock).
“Right.” The realization slowly dawn on Martin. “There should be an obstacle in our way, but there isn’t.”
Craig straightened abruptly. “Are you kidding?” He demanded. “No obstacle? This entire trip has been an obstacle.”
“He doesn’t mean that, Craig,” Dusty said. She had stayed quiet since they had come down from the ledge. “He means that this is too easy, just to go through the opening at the end of the grotto.”
“What does Era’s thingy say?” Amy asked.
Dusty searched her pack for it, then started to read it. “‘Beware the one who speaks of love, for he knows not of this…’” Dusty trailed off. She raised her head and stared at Craig.
“No…Dusty…I meant it, every word I said,” Craig’s eyes went wide in fear.
“How can I be sure?”
“Look at me, Dusty.” She glared at Craig coldly. “No, not like that. Think of everything you know about me. Look at me. Please.” His voice was pleading.
Amy looked at Martin. He gestured towards the pool of water ten feet away. They moved slowly towards it, edging away from Dusty and Craig.
“You said you loved me.” Her voice was dangerously sharp.
“Would I lie to you?”
“How should I know? What do I really know about you?”
Craig raised his voice. “Jesus, Dusty! We’ve known each other for years! We’ve done everything together. You know everything about me. Like the time at sleep-away camp when we were eight and I wet the bed? Remember that? And the time in Grade Five when I asked Rachel to the graduation dance and she turned me down—three times? Who did I go to for reassurance? My guy buddies? My older brother? No! I went to you! And that means nothing to you? What about on the mountain outside? I guess I was god-damn faking that!”
She didn’t say anything, only turned and ran towards where Martin and Amy were swimming.
“Ooh, smooth,” Brain smirked from the stalagmite.
“Shut up or I might just leave you there when we start moving again.”
Brian shut up.
11:05 AM. On the Move.
“Psst, Dusty,” Brian hissed from his bounds. Amy glowered at him. Brian snarled right back.
“Yeah?”
“I wanna talk to you. Can you get her to let me go?” Brian moved his head in the direction of Amy, who pulled the rope a little tighter.
“Amy, I think I can take him now.”
Amy reluctantly handed the rope over to Dusty.
“Now that I can talk to you without your jealous boyfriend around, I want to tell you how I really feel about you.”
“Huh.”  
“No, I’m serious. I really care about you, Dusty. There’s nothing I want more than to make you happy. I hope that we both survive this thing, because I love you, and it would kill me to see you get hurt…I want to be with you forever after this is over.”
Her eyes shone. “Thanks, Brian. Maybe you aren’t the jerk you seem to be.”
He smiled at her. Gotcha, he thought. 
2:20 PM Eastern Time.
“So, here’s the entrance,” Martin said loudly. “Who’s first?”
Dusty stepped forward. “It’s my quest, so…”
Craig stepped beside her. “I’m your sworn protector, so…”
Amy smiled and said brightly, “And I’m the telekinetic bitch who’ll beat the shit out of whoever gets in my way!”
They all burst into laughter. “Amy it is!” Martin howled. They all advanced to enter the corridor.
It was then that things got bad. The light that was coming from an unknown source just ahead died, and utter silence descended on the cavern. The sound of the running water stopped. The dripping on the stalactites ceased. All that each one could hear was the beating of their hearts. A rushing sound started in the blackness where the light had once been, and came towards them.
Dusty had time to yell, “Oh, shit!” before they passed out.
Chapter 11: The Blackness
Sunday, May 8th, 1999. Somewhere Inside The Dark Kingdom.
5:46 PM Eastern Time
	Dusty slowly opened her eyes, not that it helped much. It was black and cold wherever she was, and she had a splitting headache. Her fingers reached out blindly, groping for the feel of something familiar. She touched stone walls and floors made slippery by mildew and dampness and slime. 
	“Where am I?” She wondered aloud.
	“Dusty? Is that you?” Martin’s voice came from a few feet in front of her. He sounded scared, like a five-year-old in a mall who can’t find his mother.
	“Martin? Stay where you are, I’ll try to find you,” she replied, and began to crawl in the direction of his voice. She had moved only a few inches when hard shackles at her wrists, ankles, and neck stopped her with a jerk.
	Martin spoke again, his voice tired. “It’s no use, Dusty. We’re never going to get out of here.”
	“Where are we?” It was her turn to be frightened.
	He began to laugh hysterically. “Does it matter? We’re gonna die in here anyway, who cares? Who really gives a damn if we live or die? No one’s going to miss any of us!” His voice rose in pitch and volume, until he was screaming shrilly at the top of his lungs.
	Dusty cried loudly, “Martin, shut up! Get a hold of yourself! We’re gonna get out of here, and we’re gonna live! We have to!” She started to sob.
	They both continued on like this for about half an hour; Dusty sobbing and Martin screaming. Finally a light appeared outside of their cell; Dusty had not realized that they were in a vault until the light had appeared.
	It was carried by a small, maroon-robed figure that shuffled along as if it had no legs. The hood reminded Dusty of the Jawas from Star Wars. You know, those hooded trader-things with light bulbs for eyes. This thing was basically the same, but without the light bulbs. To be truthful, Dusty couldn’t even see the face of the figure.
	The being came to the seemingly impenetrable iron bars that made the outer wall. In the dim light from the torch, Dusty could see the rest of the prison cell. It was square, with stone walls, ceiling, and floor. In the middle of the ground, a huge pit gaped between her and Martin. Had she been able to go towards Martin, Dusty would have fallen into the chasm. All around the walls were the scattered remains of previous prisoners, many still bound to their shackles. Not all of the corpses were bones and scraps of clothing. A few were still whole, but rotted and decaying. 
	Dusty leaned over to the side and puked, letting her bile slid over the smooth cobblestones of the ground. She straightened to see the little monk-like creature touch the iron bars. There was no door that Dusty could see, yet the bars disappeared and the small figure passed through the space where they once were. 
	It entered the cell, and headed over to the still-screaming Martin. Martin’s eyes bulged when he saw the robed figure, and struggled furiously against his chains. Dusty winced as the rusted manacles cut into Martin’s neck, ankles, and wrists. Blood oozed over the irons and down Martin’s body. He screamed in terror yet again, but the robed figure touched his sweating forehead and Martin collapsed against the wall. He didn’t move.
	“You bastard!” Dusty screamed. She lunged against her shackles, the cold and rusty iron cutting into her tender skin. She ignored the pain and let the anger against the robed figure act as fuel for her fire. “Yeah, come try your luck with me! Bring it on!” She howled in rage and lashed savagely against her manacles.
 	The robed figure started towards her. As it came closer, Dusty could see its face, a swirling mass of darkness. Dusty’s fury quickly changed to terror, as she realized that it was going to do to her what it had done to Martin. But no matter how hard she struggled, the figure with no face lightly touched her sweaty forehead.
	A feeling of complete peace came over her, and she felt lightheaded. 
	The voice entered her head involuntarily. So, you are the one who was foretold. I am the Keeper. I Keep the prisoners of Her Highness, Queen Neptunium, here in the Dark Pits of the Dark Kingdom. As you will soon find, not all of us are evil. Many have been brought here against our will.
	Dusty fought to clear her head. She found that she could ‘think’ back to the Keeper. What do you mean? What are you? Are you evil or good?
	The Keeper laughed inside her mind.  I am a rarity. I exist for neither side. I am not good, but I am not evil like the Queen. You, little Dustball, are even more unique than I am.
	How did you know my nickname? What do you mean, I’m unique? What did you do to Martin?
	My, you are full of questions. I have access to your mind, little one. Martin? That is the new name of the other one? I only knew him as Rasool. He must have survived many hardships to find you. And you are immensely unique. I have been told about you, Era. 
	So, you knew about who I used to be.
	We all do.
	Who’s ‘we’?
	We are the entire Kingdom. Every slave that shies away from you, every guard that clutches his weapon just a little tighter, they know who you are. They know what you are here for.
	Dusty felt her heart jump. The memory of Era’s prediction leapt into her mind. Descend into the dying light/Where hollow-eyed helots serve the Dark One.
	The Keeper bolted out of her mind. “Oh, my face! My face!” He raised his hands to his cloak, and clawed at his face in pain. 
	Dusty reached her hands towards him, afraid of what was happening. “Keeper, let me help you!” She cried.
	The Keeper ran out of the cell, shouting, “Sinlax! Sinlax! She’s found it!”
	Dusty’s knees buckled beneath her, and she fell into a deep sleep.
6:40 PM Eastern Time. One Cell Over.
	Craig opened his eyes to screaming in the hall outside his prison. He knew where he was; the Keeper had told him everything. The Keeper had also told him that Dusty and Martin were in the next cell. Craig was uneasy about this fact. He and Amy were the only live prisoners here, and Martin and Dusty were in the other one. Where was Brian? It was unlikely that they had him in a cell by himself, so where did he go?
	“Amy, can’t you use your telekinesis?”
	She half-sobbed, half-laughed. “No.”
	“Why not?” He jangled his chains.
	“I can only move things, I can’t unlock them.”
	“Well, can’t you at least try? We’ve got to get out of here.”
	“Oh, Craig,” she said. Craig could tell that by the clinking of the chains she was shaking her head. “Sweet, naïve, foolish, impressionable, optimistic, child-like, hopeful, silly, stupid…”
	“I get the point,” Craig snapped angrily. “Get on with it.”
	“There’s nothing we can do. We can’t get out.”
	“But…” He searched for the words. “What about your family? Rich and Adam and Elsie and Robbie? You’re not just going to let them down, are you?”
	They had spent the long hours talking about anything. At first Craig had rambled, going nowhere, until Amy started to talk. She told him about her ranch in the Rockies, and what she had done four years ago to protect it. She told him about the aliens that had invaded her home. But mostly, she told him about her family. Amy described Adam, now twenty-two, living in New York and writing incredible novels about what had happened those days back in July. The Anaconda Incident was the title of Adam’s first book, which he began after the invasion ended. Amy’s family had won, but she was scarred by what she had seen.
	Amy told Craig of Elsie, now seven; Robbie, now seventeen, and the rest of her family. He could sense the love that she felt for them, and wondered what the ‘Anaconda Incident’ had done to her. 
	Craig could tell that Amy was thinking about what he had said, and finally she replied. “What happens if we don’t get out of here?”	
	Craig swallowed. “Everything is lost. Everyone dies. She wins.”
	Amy stayed silent. Craig heard the clinking of some chains. The next sound was the sound of something being pulled from a wall. Then the wall Craig was shackled to exploded in a burst of gravel. The debris rained down all over the cell. 
	Craig uncovered his head gingerly, and raised his hands. He was free! Somehow the shackles had fallen off, and the one around his neck crumbled to dusk around him.
	“Amy? Did you do this?”
	But she didn’t answer him. Amy was standing at the bars, hands outstretched, eyes closed. She was breathing hard, and as Craig watched, a small blue ball of…something was forming between her hands. Amy’s eyes flew open and the ball of something crashed into the bars. The bars flew outwards, embedding themselves in the opposite stone wall. 

	Dusty fought to turn her head. There was something happening in the hallway, and she was afraid. Martin was unconscious and he hadn’t moved since the Keeper had run out shrieking in pain. 
“What did he mean when he said that he exists for no one?” She wondered aloud.
	The bars of the outer wall burst inwards, and Amy stepped in. 
	“Amy?”
	“Dusty? Where’s Martin?”
	“Over there, but we’re in chains. We can’t get out.”
	“Not for long.” Amy blew the shackles off Dusty and Martin. “Hurry, we don’t have much time before they come to get us.”
	Craig shouldered the limp form of Martin, and the four teenagers ran out of the cell.
6:50 PM Eastern Time. Neptunium’s Throne Room.
	Sinlax burst into the Throne Room unannounced. “My Queen,” he gasped.
	Neptunium glared down at him. “You have ten seconds to explain this, worm.”
	“It’s the Ageless Ones, O Powerful Dark One. They’ve escaped.”
	“WHAT?” Neptunium screamed in rage and lashed out with the deadly fire, killing two nearby slaves. “I want them caught, you hear? Bring them to me alive.”
	Seven guards standing at the foot of the throne rushed off to find the lethal youths. Their steel armor glinted in the light from the huge torches. Neptunium leaned back in her royal seat and wrung her hands anxiously. The Girl was coming to her. The Girl was coming to death. This would be an interesting night.
7:00 PM Eastern Time. Outside the Room of History.
	“Where are we?” Amy bent over double, a stitch in her side. They had been running blindly through the winding corridors for what seemed liked ages. It was these massive oak doors that had stopped them in the end.
	“Yeah, Martin, where are we? You’re the one who used to live here.” Craig leaned against the doors.
	Martin whirled around. “For the last time! Everything’s changed since I was here. That was three hundred years ago! Is Salem the same as it was three hundred years ago?”
	“Some things never change,” Dusty said softly.
	Amy looked at her. Whatever the Keeper had told Dusty inside the nightmarish cell, it had affected her deeply; deeper than the rest of them. Martin was on edge, snapping at the slightest thing. Craig was stronger; not physically, but mentally. And Amy herself? She wasn’t sure.
	Something else was bothering her. Brian was nowhere to be found, and he hadn’t been inside any of the other cells. 
	Craig tugged on one of the massive brass handles. “Someone help me here,” he asked to no one in particular. 
	Amy braced her feet against the ground and strained to open the behemoth-like door. 
	“Uh, Amy, why don’t you just use your telekinesis?”
	Amy started. Craig and Martin were staring at her. “I, um, uh, okay,” she stammered. Amy stepped back from the door, closing her eyes. She breathed deeply, searching deep inside herself for the little pool of energy that was her supernatural power. At last she found it, and took a very tiny amount. Opening her eyes, Amy reached her hands towards the door, and sent the energy blasting into the door. The locks unlocked and the door opened.
	Dusty stepped forwards into the room. Bookcases stretched upwards impossibly high. Mosaic floors sprawled farther than she could see. 
	The bookcases were filled with thick volumes, and dust covered the shelves. The floor was clean, and large chandeliers hung everywhere, shedding light on the room.
	Dusty turned to the other three. “Well, here we go.”
7:09 PM Eastern Time. Neptunium’s Private Chambers.
	A knock at the door pulled Neptunium out of her trance. “Come in.”
	Brian entered. He stood awkwardly, leaning against her chest of drawers. Brian looked good. The slaves had clothed him in the second-highest honor of robes; a dark green robe that flowed past his ankles. 
	“Ah, Brian, it is good to see you again.”
	Brian sneered. “Spare me your shit.”
	“Why, has something about my humble Kingdom offended you? Perhaps I can remedy the situation.” Neptunium did not want to kill Brian, not yet. He still had a few more hours at best. Let him trust me before I kill him, Neptunium chuckled to herself. His energy will be more rewarding and rich.
	“No, your Highness.” Brian’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
	“Please, call me Neptunium. It’s only proper.”
	Brian ignored her and walked slowly around her chambers. Neptunium laid down on her bed, running her fingers over the silky black coverlet.
	“You have an interesting bed. Hard to believe anyone sleeps in this place.”
	Neptunium smiled coyly. “A lot more goes on while we sleep here.”
	Brian smiled devilishly back. That’s it, Neptunium, come on, he thought. He crossed the room and perched himself on an oversized armchair. Like the rest of the furniture, it was black. “So what’s the plan for Dusty?”
	Neptunium looked puzzled. “Dusty?”
	“You know, the girl you’re going to kill.”
	“Oh, you mean The Girl. Well, she’s going to die a slow and painful death.”
	“And the rest of them?”
	“I will kill her closest companion, the one they call Craig. The seer Rasool will be taken care of by one of his former companions.”
	“Good.”
	Neptunium patted a spot beside her, and Brian sat down beside her. She brushed his hair away from his face. “Now, what do you want?” She said softly.
7:24 PM Eastern Time. Room of History.
	The four youths huddled together in a small group, afraid of what was coming. The doors pounded heavily as someone outside tried to get into the vast chamber. Craig felt panic rising in his throat. Oh, God, he thought. They’re going to get in and butcher us. The next thought came unbidden to his mind—I have to protect Dusty at all costs.
	Craig looked at Dusty. She was pale and nervous, not at all seeming like the warrior she was supposed to be. Her hands shook as she visibly fought to keep her control.
	A loud slam at the door and a splintering of wood whipped their heads around.
	“I may be crazy, but I think we should find somewhere to hide…like now.” Amy edged away from the door. They followed her in a winding path through the bookshelves. 
	Craig bumped into Amy when she stopped suddenly. The floor was bare here, and without the mosaic patterns. Fine black sand was instead spread all around, with intricate and interweaving designs drawn in it.
	Dusty stepped onto the sand, but jumped back quickly. “It’s heating up!”
	The lines in the grit began to glow with a strange blue light. The sands began to sink, uncovering small objects that were hidden before.
	Martin gasped. “Warrior’s Keep. And all this time I thought it was a myth.”
	“‘Warrior’s Keep’. What’s that?” Amy never took her eyes off the sands.
	“It’s a place that I was told stories about when I was very young. My mother said that that was the place where the fallen warriors laid their weapons and treasures. No one had ever seen Warrior’s Keep, because people said that only the ones who had the power to wield the most powerful of swords could find it.”
Dusty walked over the articles to the center. She bent down and lifted a sword easily, even though the sword was immense. It was about three feet long, and was made of a polished metal, so that it gleamed in the torchlight. 
Craig saw her face change when she lifted the sword and held it. The worried look vanished from her eyes and was replaced by a look of harsh determination.
“Neptunium picked the wrong girl to mess with,” Dusty said grimly. “Lets go.”
Chapter 12: Slaying the Dragon
7:36 PM Eastern Time. Seers Quarters.
Noria furrowed her brow as she bent over the scrying pool. The waters that formed the image blurred and refocused continuously. Something was messing with the magic.
“Noria, hurry with the scrying pool,” Colburn called from the other side of the room. She came around the divider, brushing her long coal-black hair. Her icy blue eyes glittered.
Noria did not answer. She had nothing to say to the snooty Colburn, the beauty of the Underworld. Colburn was vain, even more so than Neptunium ever was.
Boca entered the room, closing the heavy door behind him. “We have to make this quick if we ever want to find out what is happening in there.”
Noria set her jaw. “I can’t get in.”
“What do you mean, you can’t get in?” Boca hurried to the pool and performed the scrying ritual. After several attempts, he gave up. 
Colburn tossed her hair. “Who cares? What happens in the Room of History happens.”
“You can die, then,” Noria said sharply. “I’m getting out of here before this place collapses.”
Boca looked shocked. “But—but you can’t do that! There’s no way to leave the Kingdom!”
Colburn sneered. “My visions say nothing of the Dark Kingdom breaking down. You need to clear your mind, Noria.”
“I’m not the one who needs to clear their mind,” Noria shot back. “If you think that, I have no pity for what happens to any of you.” She grabbed a sheepskin bag and began stuffing clothes and magical items into it.
Boca glanced at Colburn. She nodded her head, and Boca reached behind Noria’s neck, hitting a pressure point. Noria struggled for a few seconds before collapsing to her knees.
“I’m so sorry, Noria,” Boca said softly, “but some things just had to be done.”
7:45 PM Eastern Time. Throne Room.
	“Girsholm!” Neptunium bellowed. The sniveling bondsman appeared at her feet, clutching a pendant that glowed a harsh red.
	“Please—Queen Neptunium—the pendant!” He whimpered, as the pendant began to burn into his skin.
	She looked down her nose at him, and put the fire out to him. “You tried to run away, didn’t you, Girsholm?” She said calmly, as Girsholm writhed in agony on the floor. “You shouldn’t try to run away. I know where you are at all times.”
	“Neptunium!” A voice shouted, snapping Neptunium out of her state. She looked around wildly, searching for the voice.
	“Show yourself, coward!”
	A long shadow emerged from behind a pillar. The other slaves in attendance slunk away from it as it made its way towards Neptunium’s throne. “It’s been too long,” the shadow growled.
	Neptunium narrowed her eyes. “Finto.”
	The seer glared up at her with unseeing eyes as he dropped his hood. “Yes.”
	Girsholm gathered his strength from the floor and slowly made his way onto his elbows. “How dare you address your Queen improperly!”
	“Shut up, Girsholm!” Neptunium slapped him. “Finto, what do you want?”
	“I want my freedom.”
	She laughed cruelly. “Freedom. There is no such thing here.”
	“I want it anyway. This pendant has been the bane of my existence since the day I came under your service. Let me go.”
	The Queen smiled. “You really want your freedom?”
	“Yes.”
	“Then you shall have it.” Knowing the seer was blind, Neptunium pulled a long, sharp dagger from behind her seat. Before Finto could react, she brought the blade down quickly, smiling in satisfaction as he fell down, dead. Neptunium leisurely consumed his soul. “I always get what I want.”
	Colburn and Boca entered the throne room breathlessly, dragging the unconscious Noria behind them. Boca flinched at the corpse of Finto on the floor.
	“Queen Neptunium!” Colburn barked.
	The Queen lifted her eyes coolly to meet Colburn’s blue ones. “I see that you brought Noria as I requested.”
	Boca’s nervous eyes flitted over the throne room. “The trap was easy to set. Will she wake up?”
	Neptunium smiled coyly. “If I do not kill her first, then yes. What was she able to see in the Room of History before you hit her?”
	Colburn sighed. “She couldn’t see anything. Something was messing with the magic.”
	Neptunium paled visibly. The guard next to her throne heard her whisper, “Era…” Neptunium recovered herself. “Guards, get me my sword.”
	“Which one?” asked the Captain of the Guard.
	“Stareater.” A gasp of fear ran through the attendance. Stareater was the sword that the Queen had used three hundred years ago, in her battle with Era.
7:55 PM Eastern Time. Room of History.
	“So, that’s the plan,” Martin finished. Amy shivered with anticipation. The feeling was the feeling that she always got before a fight. She glanced quickly over at Dusty, and could see that the girl was trembling. Dusty was smiling, though, and Amy knew that the younger girl was drunk on adrenaline. 
	Dusty lifted the sword and parried with Craig until Martin told them to stop. “Save it, Dusty.”
	The four of them lined up facing the door that lead into the Room of History. It was bulging inwards with the force that the army behind it put forth. The wood splintered and cracked. Dusty held the sword that she had found in Warrior’s Keep; Craig wielded a medium-sized dagger (“I like the weight of it,” he had insisted); Martin was carrying a large bow and a quiver of arrows; Amy was armed with only her telekinesis to protect her. As practice, she began to lift the enormous bookshelves in the room.
	
	Craig flexed his hand and looked nervously towards the splintering door. Around him Amy and Dusty fidgeted and moved around, anxious and afraid. Martin calmly counted his arrows and tightened his bow.
	“You don’t seem too worried.”
	Martin smiled grimly. “Why should I be? You forgot, Craig, that I know what’s going to happen here.”
	Craig played with the blade, accidentally cutting his thumb. He yelped and dropped his dagger, nursing his thumb. 
	Once again Martin smiled wryly. “I knew you were going to do that.”
	“Then why didn’t you stop me?”
	Martin sighed and sighted along his arrow. “In life we have to learn lessons. If someone told you what was going to happen to you, you could very well avoid what was going to happen. Then you would never learn the lesson. So then that situation is going to keep happening until you learn the lesson.”
	Craig nodded. “Oh.” 
	The door splintered open, and a soldier fell through a gaping hole. Before any of them could react, Martin shot an arrow. The soldier moved no more. 
	A scuffle was taking place outside of the door. Craig heard a guard barking orders at his troops. The language was foreign to him. “What are they saying?” He asked Martin.
	Martin paled. “A Dragondog. Oh, great. That’s the last thing we need right now. Amy, they’re going to let the Dragondog slam the door down. Your job is to kill it before it can get in. Got it?”
	Amy nodded. The bookshelf she was moving quivered in the air, then splintered apart. Parchment fluttered down around the Four like an eerie snow.
	“Save it, Amy,” Martin cautioned. 
	The older girl just shrugged, but put the other bookshelves down on the floor. Dusty glanced nervously towards the doors, her fingers tightening on the blade. She spoke suddenly.
	“Has anyone seen Brian?”
They all looked at each other. “No,” Martin admitted. 
“Well, where is he?” Dusty thrust her sword into the ground savagely. “I mean, he has to be here somewhere. Why wasn’t he in the dungeons?”
Craig thought. “He seemed pretty eager to get us onto the mountain this morning. Maybe he’s got something worked out with Neptunium.”
Martin nodded slowly. “That’s the only explanation.”
Dusty pulled out her highlighted copy of Era’s prophecy and showed it to the rest.
On the other side of night
A child of ages will close his eyes
And open them again to find himself in another body
He will learn his path
And find his true enemy awaiting him at the end of a road
Road as a snake winds 
Deep into her dark domain
Trust the green-eyed Lord of Giarc
For he shows the way
And lays down his mortality so that She can live
Beware the one who speaks of love
For he knows not of this
Descend into the dying light
Where hollow-eyed helots serve The Dark One
Draw your sword
To slay the dragon
And jump into its mouth
Light a fire to make it cold
And lose the things you value
The Queen may fall
Or she may triumph
Four lost souls shall find mercy. 
 “See, here’s the parts that make sense that have already happened. Brian told me that he loved me—sorry about the mix-up, Craig—and I trusted him. We’ve descended into the dying light already. That’s how we got here in the first place.” Dusty moved into the torchlight for a better look. 
“But Dusty, what about that line there?” Amy pointed at the line between the highlighted sections. “‘And lays down his mortality so that She can live’. That comes after Craig’s section. So shouldn’t that apply to him?” 
She opened her mouth to reply.
ROAR.
The Chamber shook from the sound. Martin dashed to the doors and looked through the gap that the dead soldier was laying in. He stepped back almost instantly, fear paling his face. “The Dragondogs,” he whispered. “They’re here.” 
Dusty raised her sword defiantly, but Craig held her back. “This one’s for Amy.”
Amy stepped forward, every muscle tensed for the deliverance of death. Her eyes danced in the flickering torchlight, giving her the appearance of one much older than nineteen. She brought her hands up in front of her, as if holding them out for something to be placed in them. Her amethyst eyes closed, as she searched within her for the beast.
She found it, clawing at its prison within her heart. It growled, baring the fangs and claws that were deadly when used. Good, Amy told it. You’re all riled up with no way out. You’ll get your chance. Soon, soon. It snarled at her before curling up in a corner. Amy felt the power radiating off of it like a beacon.
She opened her eyes again, a little bit of the beast’s power held in her hand. It tingled at her fingertips playfully, tickling her, enticing her to let it out to play. The other three dived behind the bookshelves for cover, while Amy leveled a bookshelf to give them more protection. Then she dropped her defenses.

Outside, Captain Holburn, twin brother of Colburn, watched as the slaves wheeled in the three iron cages, each holding a Dragondog. The cages were easily fifteen feet high, twenty feet long, and ten feet wide. Magic from the mages of the Kingdom crackled over the bars, because ordinary iron, in any thickness, could not hold a Dragondog. These monstrosities were the Queens pets, among her whole barrage of dangerous beasts that obeyed only her. Twenty slaves were chained to each cage, pulling with all their might to move the cages. 
Holburn gripped his staff tighter. All that he and his soldiers were told was that The Girl was behind the Room of History doors. Their job was to let the Dragondogs break the doors down and kill everyone inside but The Girl. The Dark One wanted The Girl for herself. 
ROAR.
Silence fell upon his troops as they quivered in raw fear. Four slaves stepped up to the gate of the first cage. Grunting and training, they pulled aside the heavy bar that held to gate in place. Like a burst of lightning, the Dragondog sped out of its prison, instantly killing the four slaves as it flew by them. It came to a stop in front of the doors, sniffing under the crack. Its hackles rose, and it howled loudly. 
It was the howl of the Dragondog that contradicted its appearance. It floated like music, rising and falling, hitting octaves that no one had every conceived possible. The howling of Dragondogs was said to have inspired human composers passing through the Balkan Mountains. Mozart and Beethoven, Bach and the rest, all had, at some point, heard the music of the Dragondogs. 
Holburn swallowed as the music continued. All Dragondogs had a different voice. Some, a trumpet served their purposes; others, piano. This female (Holburn could tell by the voice) had a flute. Her Majesty Neptunium must have bred her well to get a fine voice such as this one had. Not even the finest flute player in the history of the earth could have come close to the music this beast produced. Finally, the Dragondog called Sabre finished her concert, letting her copper head come down gracefully, before growling at the smells under the sagging door. 
The other two Dragondogs began whining frantically, and the other slaves released them. Meeting by the female’s post, they sniffed the breeze. Holburn saw that they were males, and also part of Queen Neptunium’s pack. He had seen them before, running exercises in the courtyard. One was larger than the female, but one was smaller than she was by far. The large male’s name was Koa, and he was completely black with a small white ridge along his back. His chest was as thick as the wine barrels in the cellars; his head looked large enough to swallow a man whole. Koa also raised his voice, his deep tuba reverberating through the bones of the guards.
The smaller male was brown with a smattering of white freckles across his nose, giving him a comical look. A floppy brown ear hung over one eye, but the other eye was bloodthirsty. The male whined. Holburn recognized the male as Jipper, one of the Queens least favorite dogs on account of his odd appearance. Jipper joined Koa with his puppy yelps of a badly tuned alto saxophone. The older male growled and snapped at the pup, letting him know that Koa was in charge. Jipper retreated under the flanks of Sabre, whom, Holburn concluded, was Jipper’s mother. 
Sabre took charge, pawing at the crack in the door. Jipper grabbed the leg of the fallen soldier stuck in the door and pulled him away like a rag doll. He was about to start feeding when Koa nipped him again. Sabre ignored her pup and pushed at the door with her shoulder, making it groan and creak. 
This threw Jipper and Koa into a frenzy. The two males attacked the door, clawing and tearing at the wood with all their sinew and vigor. 
Holburn’s men began to advance on the crazy Dragondogs, but he held up his hand in command. “Remember Queen Neptunium’s orders,” he cautioned. “I do not want to anger Her Highness further.” They obediently stepped back, but clutched their weapons tighter.
8:12 PM Eastern Time
Inside the Room of History, Amy quaked at the sound the Dragondogs were making as they tore down the solid wood door. Now and again she could see a red eye or a flash of teeth through the thinning door. 
“Amy! Use it now!” Martin screamed at her from behind his bookshelf.
She could still feel the creature playing at her fingertips and it snapped to attention when she moved her hand. The power swirled around her, tugging at her clothes and whipping her red hair around her head. Amy closed her eyes and sent the magic flying.

The Dragondogs flew backwards suddenly, crashing into the cobblestone floor and ripping tiles up with their unsheathed claws. Koa leapt to his feet, eyes blazing a murderous maroon. He howled wildly, telling the world of his anger at the door and whatever was behind it. The guards gasped collectively. The dogs weighed at least a ton each, Jipper about half that, and nothing should be able to throw them that far. Sabre and Jipper soon joined Koa, snarling and howling at the doors in rage. Koa narrowed his eyes, then charged full speed toward the doors.

Amy breathed a sigh of relief. The dogs obviously were injured, and unable to attack. She and her friends were safe. A crash at the door was the final straw for the stressed wood. It exploded towards her, throwing beams of wood at deadly speeds. Instinctively she used her telekinesis to protect herself from the flying missiles. They shattered around her on impact with the ground. Amy looked up and her heart jumped into her throat. The door was gone.

Koa stood still at the threshold to the Room of History with rigid legs. His nostrils scented the odor of his prey. There! There was the unmistakable tang that told him he would be feeding soon. The bittersweet musk of fear poured off this new prey. The puppy Jipper awkwardly tried to mimic his movements, trying to scent the fear that Koa was relishing in. But the puppy was too young; scenting fear was not in the genes. It was something that developed over decades as a skilled hunter. Jipper would never experience fear quite like this. Koa nuzzled Sabre along her copper fur. The female bit his ear in the excitement of a kill, her teeth nearly wounding the surface of his skin. The alpha male of the Dragondog pack turned his attention to the pitiful prey in front of him, licking his chops in anticipation. 

Martin couldn’t move. It was that Dragondog, the one that had killed his precious Ven so many years ago. It stood there like a black manifestation of a nightmare; pure evil radiated off the shiny ebony muscles. Martin grabbed an arrow out of the quiver and aimed it carefully at the spot between the eyes of the Dragondog. That was the only spot to kill them with an arrow, where the skin was thinnest and the skull the weakest. A skilled archer like himself could easily take down a Dragondog on a good day with clear weather. This would be an easy kill. His fingers drew back the arrow and the bowstring until it was taunt. Closing one eye, he aimed. Martin let the arrow fly. Instantly, the Dragondog whirled to avoid being hit, catching the arrow in its teeth.
“I don’t believe it,” Martin whispered.
Koa roared again, charging at Amy.

Amy panicked. In panicking, she let a momentary hole in her effort to cage her power. It saw the opportunity and darted through the narrow opening, streaking towards the ends of her hands. Amy cried out in desperation as she bit her clenched fists to try to stop the flow of power. It didn’t help. The ugly power sped towards the Dragondog, crackling the air between them.

Koa soared into the air to meet her power head-on. A brilliant flash of light illuminated the Room of History, and the smell of burning flesh permeated the air almost instantly. Koa fell to the ground, never to move again. Sabre balked, her flute voice trilling worriedly. She rushed to his side, nudging the carcass with her nose.

Somewhere, Holburn found his voice. The Queen would not be pleased by this turn of events. 
“Sabre, attack!”
The female growled in her throat.
Chapter 13: Sacrifice
8:29 PM Eastern Time
Inside the Room of History
Martin recognized Amy’s plight. She had just used the majority of her power and was dangerously low on her strength. Another attack from the Dragondogs and she was finished. “Amy, get out of here!” He stood up, an arrow already in his quiver. 
She turned to him, her face wet with tears. “No, Martin!” She sobbed loudly. “No! It has to end like this! This is my part for Dusty!”
“Amy, no! You can’t do this to me, not here, not now. I care too much about you. I can’t let you go like this!” He started to her, but Craig grabbed his arm. 
“This is her time, Martin. Let her go!” Craig bellowed over the screams of the slaves, who were being torn apart by the crazed Sabre. Martin sat down, breathing rapidly.
Amy faced the insane Sabre, arms convulsing wildly in terror. “STOP!” She shrieked. The female froze, her jaws still clutching the remains of a leg. Slowly, painfully slowly, she looked into Amy’s eyes. The maroon eyes, colored by emotion, pierced into Amy’s soul, telling of more rage then Amy would ever know. Unable to help herself, Amy shook again.
Relief swept over her like a calming wave. Smiling, she faced Dusty. Dusty stood slowly, not trusting her knees to hold her weight. Amy held her hands out towards Dusty, palms up.
“Good luck, Dusty,” she whispered serenely. 
“Amy, please!” Dusty pleaded frantically for Amy to come back to them, that she didn’t need to go like this.
“This is my part! I will make the best of it.” Amy faced the crazed Dragondog for the last time. “You and me, bitch.”
Sabre bared her long fangs and snarled, leaping for Amy in a fantastic show of speed. The evil creature covered the distance in a single bound, coming to a stop face to face with Amy. 
Amy reached deep inside her again, searching for whatever power she had left. She found it, huddled in the corner of the cage where it used to be. Mentally, Amy reached her hand out. It whimpered and drew away from her, a pitiful shell of the powerful beast it had once been.
Please, she asked it. Please, just give me what you have left. I need you more than ever. Somehow, it grew a small bit to reach out to her waiting hand. Feeling her urgings, it rushed towards her fingers. Amy reached up to put her hands on either side of Sabre’s head, feeling the muscles tense and move under the copper skin of the Dragondog. Sabre opened her mouth, letting Amy get a full-on view of the five-inch-long fangs that dripped with saliva. The foul breath rolled out of Sabre’s mouth and wafted down to Amy’s face.
Her power pushed at her skin, urging her to let it out. Taking a deep breath, Amy released the small amount of power she had left into the brain of Sabre. The Dragondog howled in agony, raising her front paws to claw the air. Amy gasped as a single claw hooked into her chest, catching between her ribs. It wedged in there, gripping her organs and tearing mercilessly. 
Sabre stopped suddenly and slowly fell to her knees. Her gargantuan paw dragged Amy down with it, bringing the dying woman eyeball to eyeball with the Dragondog. The now-amber eyes of Sabre locked on Amy’s amethyst ones, taking away the breath of the teenager. With her last ounce of strength, Sabre twisted her claw embedded in Amy’s chest. Amy writhed in agony as the Dragondog dug deeper into her chest, unrelenting in destroying her prey. Gasping, Amy doubled over onto Sabre’s paw as she attempted to draw out the claw that was making its way towards her heart.
Sabre’s mind raced in pain and fear. Her mate was dead, a grotesque corpse on the floor a few feet away. Jipper stood stock-still, unable to understand what was happening to his mother. Every now and then, a small whine would pass his lips and he would paw the ground in anxiety. Sabre could feel the energy from Amy’s blow slowly destroying her brain cells, eating away at her being. All that was left now was her core essence—the basic drive that provoked all Dragondogs: the desire to kill. All that Sabre knew was that the human in front of her must die; she must pay for the suffering of Sabre. 
Amy, too, was thinking her last thoughts. Surprisingly, she was not afraid. She was peaceful; knowing that Dusty would be safe…for now…at least she hoped so. All that sped through her head was the regrets that bombarded her in guilt. I’m so sorry, Robbie. I abandoned you and all the rest. Please forgive me, Adam. Two lone tears slid slowly down her dirt-caked skin to land on the copper fur of Sabre’s paw. At that second she felt the Dragondogs claw pierce her heart. Amy cried sharply, digging her fingernails into Sabre and pulling. Her back arched, then collapsed over the paw embedded in her body. 
Sabre whined in triumph, before closing her amber eyes in agony. She shrieked suddenly, pointing her snout up towards the high ceiling of the Room of History. A final howl wavered elegantly; caressing octave after octave in a final song that would have shamed even the greatest musician. 
Dragondogs used their voices for everything, expressing a wide range of emotions with a single note. Many songs of the Dragondogs were revered amongst the royalty and seers of the Dark Kingdom, but the most hallowed and sacred was the death song, the last requiem. Koa had had no chance for a final concerto; he died too suddenly. Sabre, on the other hand, was announcing to the whole Kingdom that she was dying; that she would sing no more. Her lamenting melody soared into the rafters and sank to the grotto where the cold, stiff, decaying body of Plutonium lay. The soldiers in their ranks wiped their eyes at the hauntingly gentle music Sabre created.
Finally the wondrous tones stopped, and Sabre lowered her head on top of the still shoulder of Amy. To the onlookers, it could almost appear as if the two were curled up sleeping. This might have held true if not for the blood that seeped out from beneath Amy. Silence descended upon the crowd. Dusty, Craig, and Martin crouched in frozen horror behind their shelter of bookshelves. Captain Holburn and his troops went stiff as boards when the realization of what Queen Neptunium would do when she found out of the death of her prized Sabre.
Martin became conscious of the opportunity in front of him. He whispered to Craig and Dusty, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Craig nodded numbly as he shifted to rise. Dusty said nothing, her eyes still glued to the lifeless corpse of Amy on the floor in front of her. “Dusty?” Craig shook her arm gently.
“Why? Why Amy?” Dusty whispered dimly. “Why her and not me?”
Neither Martin nor Craig had an answer for her.
The trio rose and crept away from the guards, who were now swarming the Dragondog and Amy. Martin had no idea where they were going, only that they were heading deeper into the Room of History.
8:56 PM Eastern Time. Neptunium’s Private Chambers.
	A knock on the door startled Neptunium. She closed her jewelry box quickly, putting out of sight the large stones of emeralds and rubies. “Enter,” she said.
	The door creaked open, and Girsholm stepped in. “My Queen,” he began.
	Neptunium whirled to face him. “Why were my Dragondogs put in danger?”
Girsholm faltered. “It was not of my doing, Your Highness. The General is at fault here. He was the one who ordered the usage of the Dragondogs.”
“Which General.” It was not a question; it was a command.
“General Holburn. He is the twin brother of Colburn the seer. His squadron was put in charge of securing the Ageless Ones. If anyone is at fault here, it is he.”
Neptunium narrowed her eyes. Sabre had been a promising Dragondog, in her prime for breeding. That pitiful offspring Jipper was a mere shadow of his mother and father, having no ruthlessness to speak of. “I want to see this Holburn.”

9:00 PM Eastern Time. Neptunium’s Throne Room.
	His own men led Holburn to the Throne Room. When he saw Neptunium sitting on the throne, his face contorted in fear.
	“Your Highness!” He cried, and fell to his knees.
	The Queen sneered. “Spare me. I demand to know who gave you the authority the use my most prized Dragondogs.”
	Holburn quivered. “I…thought it in the best interests of the Kingdom…”
	Neptunium leapt to her feet, eyes ablaze. “And what would you know about the best interests of the Kingdom?” She demanded, her voice piercing into the furthest corners of the Throne Room. “What is best for the Queen overrules what is best for the Kingdom. The survival of my pets is above The Girl. Do you understand?”
	Holburn nodded, swallowing quickly. His throat cried out for moisture. “My Queen…” he faltered.
	She had no mercy. “Guards,” she said in a bored tone, “take this scum out of my sight. Throw him in the dungeon, where he will await his chance to redeem himself.”
	The slaves winced. “Awaiting your redemption,” meant that you were given a chance to fight Neptunium for your life in battle. That was her way of practicing her fencing and sword fighting skills. It was literally a fight to the finish, one that Neptunium had yet to lose.
	“I do not want General Holburn to see another moonset. Ever.”
9:00 PM Eastern Time. Room of History.
	“Martin, where are we going?” Craig stopped wearily and asked.
	Martin peered ahead into the looming darkness. “I’m not altogether sure,” he replied. “I do know that we are still in the Room of History.”
	“That helps us a lot,” Craig shot back.
	“Hey, buddy, if you think that you can find a way out of here, be my guest.” Martin did a little bow and indicated in the direction ahead.
	Craig launched another insult at Martin, Martin replied, and the two boys stood there bickering at the top of their lungs. They were virtually nose-to-nose, each glaring at the other.
	“Stop.”
	Craig and Martin turned suddenly, and saw Dusty standing there. Her head drooped, and her blonde hair hung in her eyes. She raised her head, tears shining in her eyes.
	“Amy is dead,” she said flatly, “and all you two can do is stand there and fight. She gave her life for me. Do you have no respect for her?”
	Martin spoke solemnly. “Of course we have respect for what she did for us. Amy’s death has affected me, too, you know. I cared for her more than I have cared for anyone, even since Ven died. When she killed Koa, I was seeing Ven avenged. Koa killed my one true love; Amy killed my one true hate.”
	Craig said nothing.
	“Let’s get moving,” Martin urged. “We have to find a way out of here.” He began walking. Craig glanced back at Dusty, shrugged his shoulders, and followed Martin. Dusty reluctantly joined them, but not before throwing a parting glance over her shoulder at the remains of Amy and Sabre in the distance.
9:05 PM. Throne Room.
	Neptunium regarded the four remaining seers standing before her. They stood in line nervously, wringing their hands together and fidgeting. “Do you know where your other three comrades are?” She asked them.
	The seers shook their heads.
	Neptunium laughed. “Then I shall tell you. Plutonium is dead, hidden where only the light of the Dead Seers can find her. Finto is also silent, for he could not hush his rebellious ranting against his own dear Queen. Noria is awaiting her punishment for being unable to use her talents wisely.” Another chuckle escaped her lips. “That leave the four of you, my only loyal seers, who shall come with my when I rule the world in unending darkness. You, Colburn,” Neptunium waved her hand at the seer. “Your brother was unfaithful to me and my pets. The Keeper is torturing him as we speak. I hope that the Keeper will reveal some…unknown truths about him.”
	Colburns’ face contorted in rage, but she remained soundless. Sinlax winced and put his hand up to his eye, where a bandage, tainted with magic to make it heal faster, covered it. The wound there had been caused by Neptunium, only a few days earlier. 
	The Queen seemed to ignore Colburn, and instead continued with her critiques of the other three seers. “Sinlax, you were blinded before I injured you. Now, you can really use your seeing ability to discover the real core of every living thing within my Kingdom. Congratulations, you are of use to me now. Tell me, Sinlax, what dwells inside the mind of The Girl as we speak?”
	Sinlax blinked at the challenge. It was true that his seeing ability had increased, but never before had he been requested to go inside the mind of an Ageless One. Only one other seer had ever succeeded to do so, and that was Queen Sitara. She had not only survived, she had discovered that the child was an Ageless One. 
	The Queen stared at him. “Well?”
9:10 PM. Throne Room
	Sinlax breathed deeply and closed his eyes. Letting his mind wander through the Kingdom, Sinlax ‘stopped’ every so often, to check the minds of people who emulated a strong psychic energy. Finally, he found her. Or rather, Sinlax found a large group of Ageless Ones, clustered together. Their energy shot off them, almost hitting Sinlax’s astral body and disarming him of his protection. He sifted through the energies, until a single beam stood out. In his minds’ eye, it glowed a soft cornflower blue, and reached out lazily to touch the sickly yellow energy of Sinlax. When the powers met, Sinlax felt himself pulled through a thick wall of energy surrounding The Girl, which was a deep maroon. He looked back to follow the maroon energy. Sinlax watched it lead straight to the guardian of The Girl—Craig.
9:11 PM. Room of History
	Craig looked over at Dusty suddenly, for no reason at all. His radar for something being wrong had suddenly gone berserk, leaving him tense and uneasy. Something was going to happen, something bad, and it was going to happen soon. Had Craig possessed a set of eyes trained to see psychic energies, he would have seen his own power (which was maroon) shoot out towards Dusty and envelop her protectively. 
Martin, however, did possess this kind of eye; he watched a sickly yellow wisp of energy snake its way along the floor towards their group. Although there were only three Ageless Ones there, the spirits of other Ageless Ones that had come before them surrounded them. Angel was there, his soul strongest of all. Era, especially, seemed to hover around Dusty; Kavin’s spirit behaved the same way to Craig.  
Martin watched Craig’s aura try to cover Dusty protectively, but the yellow energy slipped in through a gap. Now Martin lazily sent his butter-yellow ambiance to cover Dusty, filling in the openings. Despite his efforts, Dusty allowed the other yellow energy to enter her.
Who are you? Dusty asked Sinlax sleepily.
I am a seer to the Queen Neptunium, he replied.
What do you want from me?
I am simply here to observe you. Just tell me what I need to hear, and I shall leave you alone. Actually, I think that you are stronger than the Queen is; yes, I can feel your strength. 
Leave me alone. GET OUT OF MY HEAD!
At this point, Craig saw Dusty clutch her head in her hands and fall to the ground. “Dusty!” He ran to her.
As Craig leaned in, he heard her whimpering: “Please…Sinlax…get out…it hurts…”
He looked up at Martin. “Don’t just stand there! DO something!” Craig bellowed.
But Martin shook his head. “She has to fight this on her own.”
Inside Dusty’s head, a silent war was raging.
Just give me the information, Dusty. That’s all I want.
NO! Leave me alone, Sinlax.
TELL ME WHERE THEY ARE.
I have no idea what you are talking about. I have never heard of the Chronicles of Ages, and I never talked to Plutonium. Who is she?
Sinlax pushed at her mentally, causing pain. Stupid child. You have forgotten that I can see into your innermost thoughts and feelings. You have had contact with Plutonium. You have also seen the Chronicles of Ages.
A new voice broke into the fight. Shut up, Sinlax.
Queen Neptunium?
Yes. It is I. I was sick of being left out of this entertaining debate. But NOW, after you tell her about the Chronicles…I am truly glad I intervened. Do you have any idea about the significance of the Chamber of Secrets?
No, my Queen…
Both of you. Get out of my head. Neptunium, we do not fight here. Let me be.
Ah, I see you have Era’s spirit. How ironic that he be with you now. Do you know, child, of how many Ageless Ones are attempting to protect you at this very moment? Even your companions shield you with their pitiful auras. It surprises me at their courage.
For the last time. I’m warning you, you scum, leave me alone.
Neptunium laughed in her head. How dare you threaten me. I shall enjoy killing you—but only when the time draws near. Come, Sinlax. You have done your duty. Return.
And then they were gone. Dusty was left with only the horrible sense of being violated to the deepest level.
9:15 PM. Throne Room.
	“Excellent job, Sinlax. You have pleased me well.”
	“Thank you, my Queen.”
	“As for the rest of you…Boca…Tia…my most faithful seers. You have been loyal to your Queen, and I shall reward you accordingly. Have you both been unclean of heart, malicious to your enemies, and swear allegiance to your one and only Queen?”
	The girl and the boy nodded. “We give all of ourselves—to our Queen, her whims, and the entire Dark Kingdom. Queen Neptunium, last of the Great Yugoslavian Dark Lords, we are yours until the sun sets in the East,” they recited in unison. 
	Neptunium smiled. “That is what I like to hear. Now…Tia…you are sixteen, are you not?”
	Tia nodded eagerly. “Yes, your Highness.”
	“Then is it not time for you to begin courtship? Why have I not seen you with a young man?”
	Tia avoided Neptunium’s gaze. “Your Highness, I am a Royal Seer. Men in the Dark Kingdom avoid me, call me ‘witch’ and reject me. I am no more desirable than one of the dungeon creatures that slink in the darkness and eat the dead. Do not be angry, your Highness,” Tia pleaded when she saw Neptunium’s face twist in emotion, “such is my life…being a Royal Seer is the best thing to have happened to me.”
	Neptunium, stone-hearted though she was, softened at the face of Tia. Truthfully, Neptunium thought, she is no more ugly than Colburn is. Her hair is golden, and shines like the sun, but that is a curse here…surely she cannot be seen as a monster. She deserves beauty. “Tia,” she said, “you are already a pretty thing. Your reputation has nothing to do with your Royal standing, but is a result of your hair…hair like that is a bad omen, as it promises of sunlight and happiness. Since you have been a devoted seer, I shall reward you with beauty.” Neptunium waved her hand, concentrating her power on Tia. The young seer’s breath caught in her throat as her body began to change. Blonde hair became shining black, blue eyes became green, and the freckled skin transformed to a pale smooth complexion. Her legs lengthened and her waist shrunk. 
	Tia fell to her knees in front of Neptunium. “My Queen…” she whispered.
	The Queen smiled contritely. “This is my gift to you, Tia. While now you are beautiful, do not forget the one who gave you life.”
	“No, my Queen. Thank you, I thank you from the bottom of my meaningless existence. I praise you…” Tia began to shed tears as she gazed at her delicate hands.
	Boca stood with an irritated look on his face. Neptunium turned her icy green eyes to the teenage boy. “Boca, why do you dislike your fellow seer?”
	“She has been rewarded only out of pity. I have one thing that I desire, and so there is nothing you can give me.”
	Neptunium narrowed her eyes. “You say you desire only one thing…and yet I have no power to grant you your wish. How is that possible, Boca? There is but one Queen, and only she has power…power to grant wishes abounding. Tell me what you desire most.”
	Boca straightened and looked Queen Neptunium directly in the eye. “I want to see where Plutonium lies.”
9:17 PM Eastern Time. Room of History.
	“OK, where are we?” Dusty asked Martin.
	Martin shook his head helplessly. “All I know is that we’re really far into the Room…what’s that?” He pointed to a space in the bookshelves ahead of them.
	Craig ran in front and got to it first. He bent down. “It’s a mosaic…and there’s some sort of pattern in it…”
 	Dusty joined Craig, but Martin hung back. He tried to see the entire picture, and gasped as he realized what it was. “The entrance…after all this time, I’ve found it…but does the Chamber of Ages really exist?”
	He was so intent on looking at the pattern that he didn’t notice Dusty moving towards a book lying open on the floor. “Martin…look at this.”
	The book was written in the language of the Dark Kingdom, but it could be said it was a dialect of the Yugoslavian language. Dusty gazed at it, then picked out a word she knew. “Descent? Martin, what is this thing?”
	“In legends told by the seers, they spoke of a place where the story of the world is written in a book. The entrance is supposedly hidden somewhere in the Dark Kingdom, and only the ruling King or Queen at the time knew the location. Not only is the entrance next to impossible to find, but it can only be opened by a secret incantation. Dusty,” Martin said urgently, “I think you’ve discovered the incantation!”
	“Now what?” Craig frowned and touched the cool floor. “Just because we’ve found it doesn’t mean anything.”
	Martin was exasperated. “Of course it means something! This place was myth until now!”
	Dusty, meanwhile, was intent on deciphering the message. Her lips moved almost inaudibly, but somehow something heard her. As she struggled with the words, the floor in front of her began to heat up. The cracks between the stones glowed with a blue light.
	Craig and Martin gasped. “Dusty—” 
	The next thing the teenagers knew, they were inside the blue light, whirling faster and faster, until all they could see was the blue light.

	Craig was the first to open his eyes.   
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://scripts.lycos.com/catman/init.js"></script>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.angelfire.com/sys/ad/code-end.js"></script>
<noscript>
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<script type="text/javascript">
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