She could hear them calling, and she hesitated. They knew she would hear them from anywhere on the Animarium. If she didn't answer, they would worry. But she really couldn't leave an animal spirit when it needed her like this...

Their next words changed her mind.

It was only Cole's voice she heard now, and she was on her feet before she realized she meant to move. Was Merrick here? Why hadn't he said anything? Had he somehow sensed the wolf spirit's condition and come to offer comfort?

Merrick wasn't with them? Why would they think he was here, then? Was something wrong?

She touched the giant paw beside her, willing the spirit to heal, willing it to draw strength from her. "I'll be back," she whispered. "I wouldn't leave for anything less than your chosen warrior. I'll bring him back with me if I can."

There was no response from the troubled wolf spirit. He was sick, she thought, and gravely so, but she was unsure how it had come to pass. She was dismayed by her inability to find the cause... maybe Merrick would be able to help.

She sparkled across the lake toward the temple, alighting in the clearing just outside. Cole and Alyssa were there, as she'd heard, and Alyssa at least looked relieved to see her. Cole just looked intent. Worried, and very intent. As someone who took everything so deeply to heart, it wasn't an unusual expression for him.

"Princess," he said, striding toward her. "Have you seen Merrick?"

"No, I haven't." She glanced from one to the other, worried by what they hadn't said. "Why? Has something happened?"

Cole and Alyssa looked at each other. "He was supposed to meet us for dinner last night," Alyssa told her. "When he didn't show up, we called Willie's, and he said Merrick hasn't been in at all this week."

"We checked with Taylor, too," Cole put in. "Then we called Danny and Max just to make sure, but no one's seen him since he went up north. He was supposed to be back two days ago," he added, as though she might have forgotten.

"We thought maybe you could at least find out if he came back," Alyssa said, and her apology for asking was there in her tone.

She could, of course. If it had been anyone else, she might have hesitated, might have explained that sometimes people didn't want to be found and to disrespect their wishes was to disrespect them. If it had been anyone else, she might have weighed their concern against his capabilities and found the odds to be distinctly in his favor.

On the other hand, if it had been anyone else, they wouldn't be asking her in the first place.

"I will find him," she promised. "Wait here until I return."

"We'll come with you," Cole offered immediately.

"No," she said, giving a small smile her best effort. "I think it's better if he doesn't know you were involved. If something is wrong, he'll need people he trusts."

Alyssa caught her arm as she was about to turn away. "He trusts you, Princess," she said earnestly.

This time, she found she couldn't muster even a token smile. "He did," she agreed quietly. "Once."

She walked off of the Animarium before she could see the look Alyssa would give Cole. She knew Alyssa thought she underestimated Merrick. She herself wondered if she had overestimated him. She had thought that he, of all people, might know how to forgive, yet the silence between them continued.

Willie's Roadhouse was quiet this afternoon, and that was typical for the time of day. There was Thom at the bar, with a soda and a newspaper spread out in front of him, and someone she didn't recognize at a table by the windows, eating a sandwich and paying no attention to her. Thom looked up, though, and nodded once before turning back to his paper.

The swinging doors behind the bar banged open as Willie wandered out. He stopped when he saw her, staring for a moment, and it was only then that she realized she'd forgotten to change out of her temple dress. She'd been so distracted that it hadn't even occurred to her.

Willie didn't bother to greet her. He jerked his head toward the doors he'd just come through, and she followed him out back without question. "Been expecting you," he said, his voice low enough that it wouldn't carry.

There was only one thing that could mean. "Is he here?" she asked. She made sure her voice just as quiet, but she couldn't keep the urgency out of it.

"Yeah." Willie was studying her. "He's here."

She turned to go, to find him, but Willie's voice stopped her.

"Shayla."

She hesitated, but he didn't go on. She didn't know what she would see in his face, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. He liked her; she didn't doubt that. But he had always been Merrick's friend and ally first.

Reluctantly, she turned to face him again.

"He says he doesn't want to see you," Willie said bluntly. "Not any of you."

She looked at him for a long moment, trying not to let her hurt show. "You told Alyssa he wasn't here."

Willie shrugged as though it didn't matter. "I'm not gonna lie to you." She didn't miss the subtle emphasis on "you," but she didn't know exactly what it meant, either.

"He's here," Willie continued. "But he's in bad shape. And he says he doesn't want to see anyone right now."

"Bad shape?" she repeated. Worry swept the hurt away. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean he came in looking like he had a pack of hound dogs on his trail." Willie gave her a meaningful look. "And he took a drink when I gave him one. No argument. He went on up to his room and hasn't come out since."

She had never seen Merrick drink. No... once, she had seen him drink. She flinched away from that memory. She had never seen him drink since coming forward to this time.

"You haven't seen him since then?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even. "When was that?"

"I seen him," Willie corrected. "He hasn't come outta his room, is all. Someone's gotta make sure that boy eats."

She heard a reproof whether he intended one or not, and she looked away. "When was that?" she repeated softly. "How is he? Do you have any idea what's wrong?"

"He came in yesterday morning, early," Willie said. "Real early. Looked like he hadn't slept since I seen him last. He's not good, Shayla, but damned if I know what's wrong with him."

She pressed her lips together, then nodded once. "I'm going to see him," she said, not that there had been any question.

This time Willie didn't try to stop her. "Use the fire stairs," was all he said. "Don't have to walk through all that again."

She supposed he meant Thom. She didn't care what Thom said or knew about her activities, but Willie was the owner, so she nodded again. "Thank you."

He waved her off, heading for the doors before she started to move. Then he seemed to think better of it and he paused. "You need anything," he said, his back to her, "you holler for me."

Did he think she would? Did he think Merrick would? She didn't know how to interpret that, so she just said simply, "I will."

That seemed to satisfy him. He disappeared out front, and she made her way upstairs. It was strange, but compared to the outside world, the Roadhouse Cafe had changed very little over the years. It was a familiar place in the midst of grave uncertainty.

She wondered what she was going to say to Merrick. She couldn't implicate Alyssa and Cole, but he would never believe that she had come looking for him because she hadn't seen him. She rarely saw him, even now that she had started to leave the Animarium again... only when he wasn't careful enough in his avoidance of her, or when one of the others tricked them into showing up at the same event.

She had barely paused outside his door when it was flung open and metal and crystal flashed in her face. She drew back, unable to suppress a gasp as the dagger came within a breath of her skin and everything in the world narrowed to the motion of that blade. She didn't even recognize the face behind it.

Then the raw fury in Merrick's expression gave way to fear, and he fell to one knee before her. She heard the weapon clatter to the floor, saw his bowed head, had a brief moment to wonder what on earth had possessed him. Then she reached out, opening her mouth, and he melted away.

She had no idea how he did that. He spun so quickly it might as well have been magic, regaining his feet a step away and decidedly out of reach. His back to her. "You," he growled. "You lied."

Her mouth fell open. Her gaze went to the floor, where his dagger lay forgotten, then back to him. She didn't know what surprised her more: that he had actually dropped a weapon, or that he had taken that tone with her.

"No, no, no--" He broke off abruptly, his hands going to his head, and he choked, "Stop talking to me! Go, go, get out!"

Eyes wide, she took a step back. "Merrick?" she asked uncertainly.

He made a wide sweeping motion with his arm as he turned, almost as though he was pushing something away. He froze when he caught sight of her, staring... maybe--surprised that she was still there? Had she ever disobeyed an order from him?

Then he sank down, eyes still on hers, lowering himself to the ground until both knees were on the floor. He stared up at her with the sort of awe she hadn't had from him in a very long time. "Princess," he breathed. "You're here."

She swallowed. "Yes," she said quietly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude."

He seemed to collect himself, back straightening as his gaze dropped to the floor in front of him. "It is no intrusion," he corrected. He sounded very stiff, all of a sudden. "Of course. The right of access is yours, as always."

She frowned a little, surprised to hear him invoke the ancient rights. Before she could say anything, though, a sound of dismay escaped him. He crumpled, and she dropped down beside him before she could think. She caught his head before he hit the floor, but only barely.

He was blinking slowly at her, and she slid her arms under his shoulders. "Merrick," she said firmly. "You're not well. Come. Lie down a moment."

"Am lying down," he insisted, his words oddly distorted. His eyes were focused somewhere behind her. "Go 'way."

She sighed. Willie hadn't been bringing him anything... alcoholic, with his meals--had he? Early morning drink or no, she didn't think the man would let Merrick do that to himself. And he didn't smell like alcohol...

She slid her fingers over his face carefully, pressing one hand to his forehead. It wasn't her imagination. His skin was hot, his eyes were unfocused, and his words were starting to slur. For someone with a constitution like his, this was unusual indeed.

"You must get up," she insisted, cradling his head again as she leaned into him, urging him into a sitting position. "To your bed, Merrick. I will not have you lying on the floor."

"No?" His gaze was fixed on her now, and she could feel tension straightening his frame once more. His arm went around her waist, startling her beyond words when he pulled her up beside him. He kept her close, so close, as he murmured, "How will you have me, then?"

He was--he was fine, suddenly, standing, breathing, focused. Too focused. She tried to step back, and his arm tightened around her even as he leaned in, warm, hot against her, and so very intent. She swallowed, turning her head away, trying desperately to look anywhere but at him.

His breath on her skin made her shiver, but his words made her blood run cold. "I know why he did it," he whispered. "I know, Princess." His lips brushed against her temple as he murmured, "Do you know how I know?"

She was paralyzed, unable to respond one way or the other.

Merrick's body was trembling now. "I know," he said hoarsely, his mouth so close to her ear that the words seemed to scrape at something in her soul. "Because I wanted it too."

"Merrick," she gasped, twisting hard in his grasp. She didn't want to hurt him. "Don't."

He shoved her away with enough force to make her stumble. Sharp words rose up and died when she saw the anguish on his face. Eyes squeezed shut, he held his head in both hands as he muttered, "Even when I imagine it, it's wrong."

He lifted his head, and she caught her breath as his eyes met hers. "Even when you're not real," he said, very clearly. "It's still wrong."

She just stared at him, not understanding.

His gaze slid away, roaming restlessly across the room. It settled on the door, and he started toward it. She opened her mouth--but he was bending down, picking up the blade he'd dropped and closing the door. "Do you know," he ground out.

He turned. "Do you know what you've done to me," he repeated, eyes burning into hers. "That oath takes everything you give it, Princess."

Heat rose in her face, and she felt the back of her eyelids prick uncontrollably. He hadn't mentioned his oath once in all the time she'd been awake. Not since Zen-Aku. She hadn't even been sure it survived three thousand years of wolf.

She had never, ever thought to hear him say "Princess" with so much spite.

"Did Dakura promise too?" he demanded. His fingers were white around the hilt of that ceremonial dagger, and his voice rose as he insisted, "Did he say the words? Did he give you everything I did? Or did you add this because of him!"

She turned away. That was a name he had sworn never to mention again, and she could have gone the rest of her lifetime without hearing it. Dakura. Princess Shayla and Dakura. How perfectly... acceptable, she had said at the time, with barely restrained delight. How perfectly royal.

"Tell me, Princess." His voice had dropped, low and dangerous, almost deadly in its intent. "Do they always mean that oath the way I meant it?"

She heard him coming up behind her. He made no sound. Only his voice approached, ghosting across the space as he stalked her deepest regret.

"I meant it, Princess." She could feel him, close now, close enough that his whisper brought the tears she had meant to hide. His words were angry and mean as he hissed, "And I have suffered for his mistakes ever since."

She wouldn't let him see her like this. Not when he was being so horrible. Sick or not, she would not take this from him.

She lifted her head and turned, pinning him with the glare her father had taught her. "You forget yourself, Merrick."

To her surprise, he wasn't even looking at her. He was staring hard at the mirror on the back of the door, but he glanced back at the sound of her voice. His face lit with an easy smile that took her breath away.

"Princess!" It was as though her attitude had brought him back. She could only stare in consternation as he gave her a sharp but pleasant nod, the pretend bow that he had adopted in private as their partnership proceeded, and offered her his arm. "Are we to go, then?"

Confused, she looked from his face to his arm and back again. "To go... where?"

"To the temple, Princess?" His amused gaze swept casually over her body, a look that would have made her smile under any other circumstances. "You're dressed for it, after all."

She had no idea what to make of his wildly unpredictable behavior. "No," she said at last. "No, Merrick... I won't leave until I understand--" She had to stop there, at a loss. Understand what? Him? Herself? She would never leave, then.

"Well, that shouldn't take long, Princess." He flashed a bright smile that invited her to share his complimentary humor.

She opened her mouth with no idea what to say. Then his eyes blinked past her, refocusing so abruptly that she actually turned to see what he was looking at. There was nothing there.

When she looked back at him, though, he had gone very stiff and he bowed perfunctorily. "As you wish, Princess."

She couldn't stand it anymore. "Merrick, tell me what's happening!"

"Gladly, Princess." There was no expression on his face. "What do you wish to know?"

She stared at him. "You act as though you... you--" She scrambled for the word. In frustration, she gave up. "You're mad!"

"Then stop torturing me!" he exploded.

She took an inadvertent step back. "Merrick," she said carefully. The blade in his hand glinted whenever he gestured. "Perhaps you should put your dagger away."

The door to his room burst open. A growling blur of teeth and fur shot between them, intercepting Willie just as he charged into the room, and Merrick yelled something incoherent. She knew her chances of disarming him by force were minimal, so she focused on the one thing she might be able to affect.

"Moon!" she said sharply. "Leave it!"

Somewhat to her surprise, the menacing animal let himself be called off, sinking back on his haunches and contenting himself with a snarl in Willie's general direction. Willie, too, came to an abrupt halt, lowering his arms from their instinctive defense. His eyes went first to her, then to Merrick.

Merrick had withdrawn from the chaos, huddling oddly by the window. He still held his dagger in one hand. Inexplicably his flute was now clutched in the other, and there was a hunted look on his face.

"What's wrong with you, then?" Willie said gruffly. He, too, was assessing Merrick. "You know the weapons' rule. Hell, you're responsible for it. What're you doing with that blade?"

"No trespassing," Merrick growled. The words were rough and deep in the back of his throat, and the voice made her shiver. She knew that tone. "Get out of my forest, human."

"What--" Willie stared at him. She knew the feeling. He couldn't seem to come up with a question, so he settled for repeating himself. "What!" His gaze sought hers, but she had no answers for him. Only more questions.

"Merrick," she said quietly, trying to see more than just her intuition in his posture. "We're not trespassing. Not here," she added, when his eyes flicked to hers. "Not anymore."

His gaze dropped to her chest, and she lifted her hand involuntarily. Her necklace was a familiar pressure under her fingers. She saw a frown crease his forehead, and he muttered, "I've seen that somewhere before..."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Willie throw up his hands in exasperation, but she didn't dare take her eyes off of Merrick. "You gave it to me," she said, very gently. "Don't you remember?"

He shook his head once. She wasn't sure it was really a negation, but she could feel Willie watching them closely. "Merrick," she said, careful not to startle him. "Do you know who you are?"

He looked away, barely acknowledging her. "Merrick," he repeated under his breath. It wasn't an answer. She was sure it was a question.

"Zen-Aku?" she countered sharply.

His gaze jerked back to hers. "What."

That wasn't a question.

"Who," Willie demanded, "or what, is Zen-Aku?"

She saw the way Merrick tensed, the way his eyes moved, the way his fingers curled around the hilt in his hand... all the signs he had trained her to read. She struck his arm as he threw, wrapped it around behind his back--and staggered as he fell. She couldn't have hit his head, she thought, with a flash of panic.

Then Willie was there with her, supporting Merrick on the other side, and he nodded curtly toward the bed. She didn't need the instruction, but she was grateful for the help. Merrick was a dead weight between them, unconscious as she had expected him to be the first time he collapsed.

"What the blue blazes is going on here?" Willie demanded, as he swung Merrick's legs onto the bed along with his upper body. She rearranged his arms gently, scanning his face for signs of pain or imminent awakening.

"Shayla," Willie said again. He had taken a step back now, but he was still watching closely, a wary look for Merrick and a worried one for her. "I'd never have sent you up here if I thought he'd be... well, like this."

She stepped away from the bed and went toward the door, trusting Willie to watch while her back was turned. "He wasn't like this before?" she asked over her shoulder. The dagger was embedded in the wall beside the door, and she had to use both hands to get it out.

"No!" Willie denied the suggestion vehemently. "He was tired, ragged, maybe a little distracted. Not violent. Least, no more than usual, if you know what I'm saying."

She considered Merrick's dagger dispassionately. He had trained her with it against all rules of etiquette and propriety, but, he said, in keeping with his oath as her protector. She could see his concentration in her memory, see his pride in an enemy conquered or a battle won. She could picture him here, in this bar, fiercely confident in his ability to maintain order.

Violent, perhaps, but not unpredictably so. He always shared his rules before he enforced them. Or he had, until today.

"I know," she agreed quietly. She let the dagger twist so that the hilt was pointed outward and the blade lay safely sideways against her wrist. She folded her hands in front of her automatically as she turned back to Willie and Merrick.

Willie was frowning down at the man on the bed. "You just lie there, son. You don't look like you're in any shape to be moving around right now."

Merrick was awake, she realized suddenly. She stopped where she was, a little unsure what his reaction to her would be. If Willie said he had been fine until she appeared...

Still the soldier, she thought with a sigh. He was scanning the room the moment his eyes opened, and he struggled to sit up the moment he saw her. "Princess," he blurted out. He glanced at Willie, then back at her, but he didn't say anything else.

"Hey, take it easy there," Willie told him. He didn't get any closer to Merrick than he had been before, but that was typical for him. "You blacked out there for a minute."

Merrick was sitting on the edge of the bed now, hands braced beside him, and he gave Willie a sharp look. "Did I?"

Willie was frowning at him. "Sure did. You weren't too steady beforehand, either, as I recall."

She watched as Merrick transferred his gaze to the floor. He was trying to remember, she thought. She could tell from the frustrated way he set his shoulders to the way he stared at the rug, as though he was trying to see into his own mind. How much was he trying to bring back, she wondered? Was it only the last few moments he'd forgotten?

"Merrick," she said gently.

He glanced up at her, and that was her answer. He didn't remember any of it. Nothing, from the time she'd arrived to the time they had lowered him onto the bed. He was giving her that look now, the look of betrayed longing that she'd seen in his eyes ever since she'd confronted him that night by Cole and Alyssa's porch. That look was normal now, familiar, what she expected to see when he looked at her--what she hadn't seen when she came in, not until he'd opened his eyes just now.

His gaze fell to her hands, and she forced herself to remain still. She had his dagger for a reason. She wasn't going to give it back just because he wasn't attacking either of them right now.

"What--" Merrick's hand went to his side, a gesture that made her frown. He hadn't carried his dagger at his waist since the Rangers.

"What happened?" he asked warily. He looked from one of them to the other, apparently making a decision. "I'm sorry... I'm not sure what you're doing here." It was almost a question, but she could hear worry behind the stiffness in his voice.

She looked at Willie and found him looking back. It was clear that he had no more idea what to make of the situation than she did, so she took a deep breath. "Merrick," she repeated. "You've been acting very strangely. You collapsed twice. You... you threatened Willie."

She didn't mention that he had waved the dagger in her face too, and from the horrified look he gave Willie, that had been the right decision. Merrick already had so many things he thought he had to atone for--she wouldn't add any more.

"I think you should come with me," she added firmly, before he could say anything. "I want to have someone look at you. I think you might be sick, Merrick."

Willie snorted at that. "Think," he scoffed. "I know you been sick since you walked in here yesterday morning." He held up his hand when Merrick started to protest. "You always shake it off, I know. But this time..."

Willie paused, giving her a pointed look, and she wondered what she was supposed to see in that. Finally, he just shook his head. "Well, you're sure not getting any better," he muttered.

"I don't--" Merrick stopped abruptly. He glanced at her hands again, then said, "Maybe you're right."

She blinked. "Really?"

He looked up at her, and this time his usual look was tinged with amusement.

"I mean, yes, of course," she said quickly. "Come with me. Can you walk?"

"I'll drive you," Willie put in. "You just tell me where you're headed, and--"

"No." Merrick stood, cutting him off. He looked almost normal when he stood up, she thought. Tired, maybe, a little worn--just as Willie had described him. Not wild or dangerous. Just... worn out.

"I'll be fine," Merrick was saying. He sounded sure of himself, even a little impatient, as though Willie's suggestion was totally unnecessary.

She caught the look Willie gave her, and she knew then that it wasn't just Merrick he was worried about. "We'll be all right," she promised, touched by his concern. "We don't have far to go."

"Yeah, you always say that," he grumbled. "And I still don't know how far is far." He eyed them with his usual look of grudging fondness. "But if you think you can handle it..."

To her surprise, it seemed that Merrick hadn't missed Willie's true concern either. "If you think I would ever allow harm to come to the princess," he began.

Willie stopped him before he could go any further. "I know you'd never mean to hurt her," he said. They were talking only to each other now, as though she wasn't even there. "But she called you something else just before you blacked out, and you acted like it might be your name or something."

"Something else?" Merrick gave her a sharp look, fast and searching. "What did you call me?"

Just like that, she was part of the conversation again, and now she found she didn't want to be. They didn't need to talk about this here. She wanted to get Merrick away from here before he realized what he had done, what he had said... before he remembered anything that would make him avoid her even more assiduously than he already did.

Unfortunately, Willie had no such compunction. "Zen something," he declared. "Zen Achoo, it sounded like."

Merrick looked like he'd been struck. His expression when his eyes met hers again was one of fear and denial, and she shook her head quickly. "It was just a memory," she told him. "That's all it was, I'm sure."

Was it just a memory? If that was it, why had it taken him over so thoroughly, until he didn't even seem to know where he was? And why didn't he remember it now?

If it was a memory, had everything else been... memories, too?

"I have to leave," Merrick muttered.

"Yes," she agreed. "You have to come with me." She knew it wasn't exactly what he meant, but despite the look he gave her, he didn't protest.

Willie just shook his head. "I hope you know what you're doing," he said. When she glanced at him, he wasn't looking at Merrick.

"We'll be all right," she said again. "Come, Merrick."

Merick gave her an annoyed look, and she had to suppress a smile. Despite all outward appearances, that time when he obeyed her every command without question had never truly existed. It had been a rare thing when he expressed doubt or dissent in front of others, of course, but since breaking the curse of Zen-Aku she had noticed it becoming increasingly more common.

If he had only protested a little harder the last time she gave him an order.

He followed her despite the look, and Willie let them go. Moon trailed them, out the back this time, through the kitchen and toward the nearest trees. She was sure Willie wouldn't bother watching the road. He didn't know where they were going, but she knew from talking to him that he was perfectly aware that Merrick, at least, disappeared at times and in ways that he shouldn't.

Merrick stopped her before the Roadhouse was completely obscured from view. Still on the earth, still in his territory, his voice brought her to a halt with a single word. "Princess."

She turned, hopeful even now. No matter the circumstances or the time passed or the other things that must be on his mind, she couldn't help wishing that this might be the moment he allowed her to apologize. He so rarely sought her attention now, and when he did it was only in the most formal of ways.

As unpredictable as he had been before, in his room before Willie arrived, he had at least spoken to her. It was easily the longest conversation they'd had since that night by the porch, and arguably more productive. This time she hadn't understood him, but then he hadn't even listened to her.

"What happened back there?" Merrick asked, immune to her wishes in a way that would have been inconceivable just a few short years ago. "Why did you call me Zen-Aku? And why don't I remember?"

She opened her mouth, but she didn't have answers for any of those questions. "I don't know," she said, troubled.

"That doesn't help me, Princess." His stare was just as neutral as it had been before, but he folded his arms across his chest and she thought she could hear the warning in his voice. "Whether you understood it or not, you're the only one who knows what you saw... what I said. What I did. I'm lost without you."

She searched his expression, certain that declaration was no coincidence. Yet there was no softening of his hard gaze, no acknowledgement that she might still be more to him than just a means to an end. So familiar, yet so distant.

"What's the last thing you remember?" she asked carefully.

"I don't--" He stopped, maybe thinking better of his instinctive protest. "I remember... eating. Willie brought me lunch."

He hesitated. "I remember people talking," he added reluctantly. "Almost as though I was dreaming. I must have fallen asleep. I've been..."

He trailed off again, maybe unwilling to admit it, so she asked. "Have you been sick, Merrick?"

The look on his face was oddly guilty, as though he was confessing a personal weakness. "Maybe," he muttered. "I don't know."

"I want Alyssa to look at you," she said firmly. "She and Cole are... visiting me, this afternoon. On the Animarium. I want you to come with me and tell her what you can. Maybe she can help."

Guilty or not, his gaze was still intent on her as he insisted, "What will you tell her, Princess? What did I say to you?"

"Nothing important," she said, looking away.

"I dreamed of you," he said slowly. That quiet statement made her breath catch, even if it probably didn't mean what she wished it did. His next words confirmed it. "Back in Animaria. I dreamed that you were..."

The pause made her nervous. "You dreamed that I was what?" she asked, still staring at the ground.

"I don't know," he muttered at last. "It doesn't make any sense in my mind."

She was taking a chance by letting him talk about this here, where he could still disappear with no animal spirits to watch over him before she got him somewhere safe. "It didn't make any sense when you said it, either," she admitted anyway.

She didn't have to see his sharp look. She could feel it. "Said what?" he wanted to know.

"You acted... strangely," she said, turning further away and fingering the dagger in her hands. "When I first came in, you--you took a knee, and you said things..."

"You came in?" he repeated. "Did you surprise me? Old habits die hard, Princess."

"I... I think I did surprise you," she said, very softly. "But..." She straightened her shoulders, lifting her gaze to the trees. "But you spoke strangely as well, mentioning things long gone, behaving in ways that were..."

There was a moment of tense silence between them, and she knew she had caused it with her hesitation. But she couldn't find the words before he did, before he interrupted the moment with a brittle tone. "How, Princess. How did I behave?"

"You behaved in ways that were appropriate to Animaria," she said quickly. "Not to this time. Not now. You acted almost as though... you were back there, back--" The word escaped before she could change it. "Home again."

This time he didn't speak, and she bit her tongue to keep from making it worse.

Finally she heard him turn away. She looked over her shoulder, wary eyes making sure he didn't take more than a single step in the opposite direction. His voice came back to her then. "Why did you call me Zen-Aku?" he asked, very quietly.

"You mentioned the forest." It might have been the easiest question he could have asked, and she didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. "You called Willie... 'human'. It reminded me of..."

She didn't finish. She didn't have to.

"Zen-Aku," he muttered.

She nodded even though he wasn't looking at her.

"Was that before or after I... treated you like royalty." The words were uncomfortable, and not only because they reflected the false impression she had deliberately conveyed to him. It barely sounded like a question.

"After," she said. "Just before you collapsed. Willie and I moved you to your bed, and you woke again moments later."

She could almost hear the frown in his voice. "You said I... collapsed, twice."

"Yes," she admitted, turning back toward him. It was safer when he was looking away. "Just before--" She caught herself when she realized she had nothing to say that wouldn't horrify him. "Just after I came in."

She saw him stiffen, and she knew the correction had not gone unnoticed. "Before what?" he wanted to know.

"Just after I came in," she repeated. "Just before... before Willie came to check on us."

"So quickly?" he asked, in that tone of voice that said he knew she was lying. He turned around too, and they were facing each other again. "Before what, Princess?"

She stared at him for a long moment, but she couldn't hold his gaze. She glanced down at the ground, careful not to move her hands, careful not to draw attention to the object she held. She couldn't answer.

"Princess," he said softly. He actually moved toward her, and she kept her gaze where it was as though she could somehow keep him from being frightened away. "I'm not embarrassed when I stand before you," he told her, his tone gentle enough that she almost looked up. "And I know you're not ashamed of anything you've said to me. So tell me what happened back there, in my room."

"You're wrong," she whispered. "I am ashamed, Merrick." She stared at the ground, her voice gaining strength even as she refused to look at him. She had seen too much of his unforgiving expression. "I'm sorry for what I said to you two years ago. I'm sorry for taking back what I gave to you. And I'm sorry for sending you away."

She lifted her gaze to the trees, aware that he hadn't moved since she started talking. "I'm ashamed whenever I think of it," she said fiercely. "And all I ask is that you acknowledge that, even if you can't forgive me, that you realize I know I was wrong and that I would give anything to do that day over again."

Sometimes, one made one's own chances to apologize.

"Would it change anything?" he asked, his voice oddly quiet.

Startled, she caught his eye. He didn't back away, didn't look away, didn't do anything but add, "What if I offered what I offered then? Would it change anything, if we could do it over again?"

She knew it wouldn't. She had said what she said for reasons that were as true now as they had been then... but she also had two years of experience with the consequences of that action. She had to say yes.

She had to say yes, because to say no would be to send him away all over again.

"Yes," she said.

"You're lying," he replied. But his gaze softened, and he was still here with her. Listening.

"I can't change what I said then," she told him. "There is nothing I can do to take back those words. But I regret them. I regret them more than anything I've... we've--" She hesitated before murmuring, "I regret them more than anything else we've lost."

His tone was still soft, gentle, but no less resigned. "Is it the words you regret, Princess? Or the circumstances behind them?"

She didn't want to lie to him, but she would not resign herself to a life apart. She gave him the only truth she could. "I don't want you to leave me again," she said quietly.

This time, he looked away first. "What did I say, Princess."

She hesitated, confused. "I don't understand."

"At Willie's. What happened before I began acting like Zen-Aku. What aren't you telling me," he muttered, little force behind it. As though he didn't really want to know.

Because he expected her to tell him. Somehow this half-hearted plea was more effective than his insistence, and she sighed. "You mentioned Dakura," she admitted, hoping once more that the truth would be enough without elaboration.

"No," he breathed. More in denial than disbelief, she thought, seeing his dismay as he lifted his gaze. "Why? Why would I do that?"

No, she agreed silently. It seemed that the truth would not be enough on its own after all. She made one last effort to avoid this conversation.

"Let's not talk about this here," she pleaded. "Please, come to the Animarium with me."

He shook his head once. "I won't talk about it in front of Alyssa," he warned.

"Then we'll talk about it later. After she's looked at you. There's something wrong, Merrick, and maybe you'll be safer there."

The deliberate glance he gave her hands said that he hadn't forgotten why he had agreed to leave with her in the first place. "Maybe you will be," he said under his breath.

If that was what it took to get him there, she thought. Then so be it.

The vague threat to her safety did indeed get him to the Animarium. Unfortunately, they didn't find any answers waiting for them there. Alyssa pronounced him physically fit, if a little under the weather, but she couldn't come up with any explanation for his apparent hallucinations.

"They're so specific," Alyssa said worriedly. "Almost more like flashbacks than hallucinations... but if you're actually seeing things that aren't there, they can't be just memories."

"I don't remember seeing anything," Merrick growled. His patience was rapidly deteriorating, and the fact that Cole and Alyssa hadn't even pretended to be surprised to see him probably hadn't helped. "I told you, the last thing I remember is eating lunch. Nothing after that."

"You said you thought you had some kind of dream," she reminded him. "Could that have been what I saw when you were talking to me?"

He met her gaze for a long moment, but she didn't know how to read what she saw there. "Princess," he said at last. "I hope not."

That was when she knew that he remembered more than he was saying. And he must have known, just from looking at her, that he wasn't wrong. But...

She didn't blame him. She didn't know how to ask Alyssa and Cole to leave without telling them why, either. So she did, saying that they needed to talk about this, and that as long as Merrick didn't seem seriously ill, she would keep a careful eye on him and report any changes to Alyssa.

By mentioning "talking" she gained Alyssa and Cole's instant cooperation and Merrick's unspoken but obvious wariness. Still, since the latter was mostly a given now, she thought it was a fair trade for the former. Her friends made themselves scarce, conferring with each other, mentioning something about dinner, and wishing Merrick well just before they vanished.

"Tell me," she said, when they were gone. "What did you dream?"

"Tell me what you saw," he countered stiffly.

She walked over to the table, reaching for the dagger she'd set there when they first arrived. The motion got Moon's attention, and the wolf hybrid lifted his head and fixed her with a piercing gaze as she turned back to Merrick. What he thought she was going to do, she didn't know.

"You greeted me at the door with this." She turned the blade over in her hands, paying more attention to his reaction than to the weapon itself. "When you recognized me, you knelt. You--" She didn't mean to pause, but she did. "You accused me of lying," she said, more quietly. "You told me to leave."

Merrick was shaking his head, staring at the dagger, then lifting his gaze to hers when her tone changed. "No," he said, with some force. "I don't remember any of that, Princess."

"It happened," she insisted. "That was when you collapsed the first time. You just sank to the ground. Then you stared up at me as though you were surprised to see me."

Merrick frowned. "As though I had forgotten you were there," he murmured. "As I would again later."

His thoughtful expression had to be a good sign, no matter how troubled. As long as he was still considering the story, as long as he was discussing it with her, here, he was still reachable. She would have to follow him if he left, and she wasn't sure she could. As long as they were both on the earth she would know where he was, but she knew that if he ran he could make it very, very difficult for her to keep up.

"It is possible, then, that the memory loss is connected to my..." He grimaced, making clear his frustration with himself. "Physical incapacitation."

She opened her mouth, and his eyes went to her even as she hesitated. "I'm not sure," she said slowly. "There were--other times, when it appeared... that perhaps you did not remember something you had just said."

"What other times?" he pressed. "When I mentioned--the one before me?" The disgust in his tone was obvious. "Perhaps I simply regained my senses."

"Perhaps," she murmured, looking away.

"Princess." His tone was stern, impatient, almost angry, and she could imagine that it was directed at her. "Tell me what happened before I assume the worst and remove myself from your presence forever."

She gasped, taking an inadvertent step toward him. He didn't move. Not to leave, nor to back down. He just stood there, staring at her, a statue awaiting judgement... or a warrior waiting to pronounce it.

"Tell me," he repeated firmly. A warning.

"You told me you knew," she blurted out. "That you knew, why--he--did it. Because..."

No matter his ultimatum, she found herself trailing off, unable or unwilling to continue. Merrick respected her space, but he didn't wait. "Because?" he prompted, more gently this time. More hesitantly. As though he was afraid to hear the answer.

"Because you'd thought about it too," she murmured, and it was almost as embarrassing to be embarrassed as it was to think of Merrick that way. Because wasn't he a man? A good man, who had every right to want a woman?

"Princess." Merrick's voice seemed to come from farther away than just the distance between them now. "Did you hear me say that I ever so much as contemplated the possibility of taking you against your will?"

She focused on him here, now, abruptly. "No."

He was staring at her just as hard. "If you ever did hear such a thing, would you know it was a lie?"

"Of course." She trusted him with far more than her life. She always had. "I was never in any danger, Merrick. I'm only telling you because you insisted on knowing."

"And this is what happened between your arrival and Willie's," he repeated slowly. His eyes went to her hands again. "I assume I greeted him with that as well."

She nodded, wishing she could do anything else.

He stiffened. His gaze was suddenly distant, focused on a point just past her left shoulder. She thought he was drawing back, mentally berating himself for what she had told him--until he spoke.

"Princess," he said, his voice strange. "Is there anyone else in the temple?"

"No." He knew as well as she did that the temple was empty, but perhaps he meant the Animarium. "There's no one here but us. Why?"

His gaze didn't waver as he stared past her. "Because May is standing right behind you."

Her breath caught, and she felt the skin on her arms prickle. She hadn't seen her childhood friend since the last days of Animaria--since before that, even, when she had been hustled off to the safety of the temple and May had stayed behind at the palace. She turned around carefully, bracing herself for a ghost, a phantom, any kind of spirit...

But of course there was no one there.