"Princess Shayla!"

May whirled into the wolf's den without fear, bright colors flying all around her in the shadows. Her face lit up when she caught sight of them. "There you are!" she exclaimed, racing forward with an armful of familiar fabric.

"Your father isn't happy," she said breathlessly. She thrust the favorite cloak out like an offering, not bothering to curtsy. "You must be freezing! Come, the king's guest has arrived early and he's asking for you! I'm to bring you to the banquet after you've dressed. Come!"

She found herself incapable of doing anything but staring at May. Her friend was right there, standing in front of her, a living breathing embodiment of the energy she had always personified. She was perfectly... real.

"Princess," Merrick murmured. He had taken her cloak from May and now he held it open for her, patiently waiting to drape it around her shoulders. As he had so many times before.

She swallowed hard. She longed for the reassurance of her name, but when confronted by this vision herself, she couldn't bring herself to ask. She stepped mutely into the cloak, and he was adept as ever because their fingers didn't so much as touch when she reached up to take the ties from him. Only then did she realize she still held Taylor's detector in her hand.

As soon as she noticed, it was gone. Merrick slid the device from her grasp as though she had handed it to him, allowing her to fasten the cloak. May stood nearby, almost vibrating with impatience, but there was not a word from her about Merrick's appearance or the device they passed between them.

Could she really be here with them, then? Was she just another phantom from Merrick's memory, somehow suddenly solid enough for Shayla to see? The cloak around her shoulders felt real enough, heavy and warm and intricately embroidered with a design that surely no one's memory could recall so exactly. She turned to Merrick, searching his expression for some hint of understanding, but he had lowered his eyes and would not meet her own.

"Lady," he said quietly. "The animal spirits are restless tonight. Please allow the princess a moment to compose herself."

"Oh, of course!" May had never been able to deny Merrick anything, and her eagerness almost made Shayla smile. "I'll be right outside. Hurry, though; the king wants all his daughters at the table before he recognizes the new Guards!"

Just like that, the girl was gone in a swirl of sparkling yellow and violet. In the silence that followed, Merrick lifted his gaze to hers again and for a long moment they just stared at each other. He looked just as pale and tired as he had before, but there was fear in his expression now. She thought she knew how he felt.

"Is she really here?" she whispered. Her cloak slid a little against her bare arms as she moved, and her fingers tightened on the edges of it instinctively. "This is mine... this is the cloak my sister gave me, when I met the deer spirit."

"I remember," Merrick said quietly. He hadn't taken his eyes off of her. "Shayla?"

She knew what he was thinking, because she'd been wondering too. But three thousand years ago, he had never said her name. "I'm real," she murmured. "You must be too, or you wouldn't call me that. But... May?"

"I don't know." Merrick looked down at the detector in his hands. "Does this tell you anything? Could she have come through one of those time holes the others are always talking about? Or--"

He stopped abruptly, and she couldn't help but smile as she held out her hand for the detector. "Or are your hallucinations contagious?" she teased gently. "I'm starting to think maybe they are."

The slight softening of his expression was worth the feeble attempt at humor. When she consulted the device Taylor had left, though, she found no evidence of any kind of temporal distortion. Could Taylor have been wrong? Maybe the detector's range didn't cover the entire Animarium after all.

"It's not picking up anything," she said, for Merrick's benefit. "Maybe there's a time hole somewhere else on the Animarium, somewhere the detector can't reach."

"We'll have to look," Merrick muttered. "Let's hope May isn't waiting for us when we leave."

She was. May spun as soon as they emerged, a bright smile on her face as she darted forward. "Are you all right now? There's still time to get back if we hurry! I've already told the girls to lay out your dress, and they were to leave something to eat if you were too late for dinner--are you ready?"

She glanced at Merrick uncertainly, but he was staring straight ahead again, apparently willing to let her deal with the situation any way she would. She hesitated. If May tried to take them back to the castle, surely they would just run into the edge of the Animarium? It seemed as good a way as any to look for time holes... and May might be more willing to listen if she was confronted by undeniable proof of where she was. Or when.

"Yes," she said after a moment. She smiled at her friend, uncomfortable in her presence in a way she hadn't expected, but it was still May. Even after all this time, there was so much they had shared. "Shall we go?"

Merrick said nothing, following them along the valley paths as though today was no different from any other. At least, no different from any other day back then. She wondered how she would ever explain the future to May. Maybe she should call Taylor back... the Eagle Ranger had shown her the world, as it was now, and she might be willing to help May understand too.

If they couldn't find the time hole, of course. Or some other way to send her back. There must be one. Eric had once implied that she herself could travel back to Animaria if she wished. The idea of going alone, however, had been unthinkable.

She was so preoccupied by her thoughts that she didn't notice they were climbing out of the valley until the eagle spirit screeched by overhead. The eagle wasn't an evening predator, and the sound made her look up. The massive bird came so close that the currents of air stirred by its passing tossed her hair back from her face, and she smiled at its greeting.

The smile faded as she realized what she was seeing. There, spread across the hillside ahead of them, was the castle's outer ward. She stopped in her tracks, staring at the place where only sky had been before. She turned around, but the valley of the wild zords lay unchanged behind her. On its other side she could see the land stretching out toward the horizon, a stretch of verdant green unmarred by magical scars.

"Merrick," she whispered. She put out a hand, reaching for him without seeing, unable to believe what lay in front of her.

He was at her side in an instant, taking her hand and supporting her as though she might fall at any moment. "Lady," he said quickly. "A moment, if you please." May took a few steps onward without question, turning away from them.

"Merrick?" She stared at him, relieved when he met her gaze.

"Princess," he murmured. "I didn't expect this."

She exerted some amount of effort to keep herself from laughing aloud. "Merrick--" She broke off when her voice trembled, then tried to speak more quietly. "Tell me that I'm not going mad."

That brought an unexpected smile to his face. "Shayla," he breathed, so softly that even she could barely hear him. "If you're mad, then the only comfort I can offer is that you're not alone."

That was comfort indeed, though she didn't tell him so. "Do we continue on?" she murmured, trying to steady herself. "To the castle? Or back to the Animarium?"

He shook his head. "I don't know," he whispered. "But--" Merrick hesitated, and his hands turned out in a subtle gesture of helplessness. "I can't go into the castle dressed like this."

She bit her lip. They hadn't yet passed the magical boundary at the edge of the valley, but she wasn't sure what was real here and what wasn't. She freed one hand from under her cloak and held it out experimentally, only a little reassured when a circlet of flowers appeared around her wrist.

She reached for Merrick, ignoring his surprise, and laid her hand gently on his shoulder. Blue sparkles rained down over his long sleeves, his t-shirt, his pants and his boots, transforming the clothes as they fell. In their wake, they left the uniform of the Royal Guard, emblazoned with the insignia of a personal protector.

Merrick was staring now. The question, when it came, wasn't "how" but instead "how long." "How long have you been able to do that?" he whispered.

"Since I woke up," she murmured. "Only on the Animarium. Like the listening."

She could hear anyone in the temple from anywhere on the Animarium. The Rangers all knew and took advantage of it. One of them must have told him, because he used it too and she had never mentioned it to him. Apparently, though, he had never asked them where she got the clothes she wore when she left the Animarium now.

He nodded slowly. His voice was louder now, maybe audible to May when he asked, "Are you well enough to continue, Princess?"

She made a face at him without thinking, and for just a moment she saw amusement in his eyes. Then he was looking away, May had dropped back to ply her with questions about her health, and they were moving slowly toward the castle again. She couldn't truthfully answer any question that May put to her, since she had no idea what was wrong with either of them.

There was something wrong, wasn't there? How could they be seeing what they were seeing? How could they be talking to a person three thousand years gone?

Was it they who had gone through the time hole, rather than May?

She found no answers as they passed quickly through the gate, the guards deferring to Merrick's uniform as though he was... exactly who he was. It made her uneasy now as it hadn't back then--she felt like an imposter waiting to be discovered. No matter how familiar this seemed, she couldn't shake the feeling that they shouldn't be here. Wherever or whenever "here" was.

She balked when May tried to leave Merrick at the doors to her rooms. "No," she insisted. "He has no other duties during the banquet. He must come inside and wait."

This drew no visible reaction from Merrick, but she wasn't about to get any farther from him than she had to. Everything around her was exactly as it had been three thousand years ago--the people, the conversations, the buildings--and the only confirmation she had that none of this was right came from Merrick. She wouldn't let them be separated.

May didn't argue, of course, and so Merrick waited in the outer rooms while they went inside. When she saw the dress that had been laid out for her, she almost called him in after them. It came rushing back with terrifying clarity: the tournament, the news of the war, and the obligations she had overlooked in order to get him away.

She didn't know why they were here, but she knew exactly when "here" was.

May wasn't immune to her distress, but what could she say? She tried to reassure her friend as best she could. She was utterly certain, however, that they were indeed the imposters she had feared, and at any moment they could be revealed. May had come looking for her and Merrick at the temple... and she had found the wrong Shayla and Merrick.

She sent May away when she was finished dressing. "Go, enjoy the banquet," she told her friend. "I promise, I'll be along as soon as I eat something. You know my father will have had the table cleared by the time I get there."

"Only if you really promise," May said, but she was already inspecting her own hair with her fingers and spinning around to retrieve her cloak. "If anyone asks, I'm going to tell them exactly where you are! I'll say, 'I brought her back from the temple, and she was dressed when I left her so I can't imagine what could be keeping her now!'"

"I'll be there," she repeated with a smile. "I will. Tell Merrick to come in when you leave, if you would?"

"I'm sure he won't need an invitation from me," May said impishly. She fastened her cloak and flew toward the door before Shayla could answer. "I'd best see you at the banquet, Princess!"

She closed the door behind her, and there was a long moment of muffled sound and stifling familiarity. This was the past. She remembered this, she remembered the time, the day, and she knew she shouldn't be here. Yet at the same time... there was something about this that made the other seem like the dream.

Then the door opened and Merrick strode into the room. He left it open behind him and took a knee in front of her, as was proper. But it was only a formality--the other girls were gone, dismissed to the evening meal, leaving the outer rooms empty and they two alone inside. May should not have left her here, in such intimate company with her protector, but with the entire castle caught up in the festivities of the day, who would notice?

"I should not be here, Princess." Merrick's voice was low, pitched for her ears only despite their isolation. For a moment she worried that he had somehow succumbed to the spell of the time, perhaps caught up in the memory as he had seemed in the future.

When he lifted his head, though, the illusion was lost. The fatigue that clung to his features only accented the worry in his eyes, and she knew he saw her. He didn't even have to say her name. She could see it on his face.

"Neither of us should be," she countered softly, running her hands over the fabric of her dress. "This is the dress I was to wear for Animus, Merrick."

Dread suffused his face. Dread, but not comprehension. Not yet.

"Tonight?" he murmured, not moving. "Animus is the guest May spoke of?" When she nodded, he jerked his gaze away to stare down at the floor. "I can't--I don't think I can face him."

"Which is why you're at the temple, with me," she said quietly. "May came to find us when my father realized I intended to skip the banquet. Only she found you and me instead. I always wondered why so little fuss was made over our absence."

Merrick was frowning, but the intensity of his regard produced nothing from the floor. Finally he looked up at her. "We're here? There? We were there in the temple just now? You're saying--we're really here, in our own past."

"There must have been a time hole that we didn't see," she mused aloud. "It's the only thing that makes sense. We're in Animaria now. And we're here the night we weren't."

He seemed to follow this odd reasoning. Whether he agreed or not, it seemed he was willing to indulge the idea. "When were we--"

Merrick broke off in mid-sentence, and all expression drained from his face. "Animus," he said flatly. "This is that fair day. The one you missed because of my father."

"The one I skipped because of you," she corrected gently. "I counted myself lucky that you allowed me to do this small thing for you."

"It was no small thing," he muttered, still on one knee. He stared up at her, all the expression he had lost earlier rising in his eyes. "It was everything."

"Rise, Merrick." It seemed such a strange thing to say, now, but he seemed likely to stay as he was forever if she didn't. He stood smoothly and she was looking into bewildered blue eyes, his expression at odds with the ease of his actions.

"I did only what I could that night," she said wistfully. It had been a decision easily made, without consideration of the consequences. She would make the same decision again. "I wished it could have been more."

"It was everything," he repeated softly. A small smile twisted the corner of his mouth, and he added, "Now, it seems, we're being given a chance to cover for ourselves?"

"Maybe," she admitted. She hadn't thought of it in quite that way.

His smile softened until there was actual affection in it, and she let it warm her without regret or shame. "Shayla," he said, very quietly. Her name prompted a return smile from her. "I don't know what we're doing here, or even how we got here. This," he added, producing Taylor's detector from somewhere on his person, "means almost nothing to me.

"But if this is the day you say it is, then you're giving up a lot for me right now." His gaze was steady on hers. "The celebrations, a meeting with Animus, your father's approval... well.

"If I can give you even part of that back," he said with a sigh, "I'd like to try."

"Anything I gave you I gave of my own free will," she reminded him. "You never owed me anything, Merrick."

That made him smile again. "Shayla," he said deliberately. "I've owed you more than you ever acknowledged for a very long time. Allow me to make this gesture of gratitude, if I may, and escort you to the banquet tonight."

She felt a smile tugging at her lips. "I must admit," she murmured, "it would be a pleasure to hear real music again."

"And to eat real food," Merrick agreed, giving the meal her girls had left a none-too-subtle glance. It made her laugh, suddenly, remembering the way he had always eaten. She'd had so little opportunity to observe him of late.

"Please," she said. "Help yourself."

He did, and she watched for as long as she thought he could tolerate. He tried to get her to join him, but she wasn't hungry, and she didn't think she could eat even if she was. It was a dangerous game they were playing here. All it would take was one or both of them returning from the temple before she remembered them doing so, and weapons would be drawn.

She drifted through her rooms, touching things, remembering, while Merrick finished off the food brought up from the kitchens. She'd never been able to say goodbye. It was hard to be here, now, and to know that she would leave with little more than a backward glance. She had spent her whole life here--and she had lost it all in a few days, in the closing of her eyes, in the vanishing blur of the millennia.

Was it any wonder that she didn't like to sleep?

A sound from the doorway made her look up, and she found her protector lounging against the doorframe. The strangest sense of something already seen overtook her, for surely she had never seen Merrick here like this. His next words confirmed it. "I don't think I've ever been in this room before," he said quietly.

"Nor have I seen where you sleep," she responded with a smile. And that was true in the past, if not in the future, for she had been in his room at Willie's often enough when the Org battles were at their worst.

"It's nothing exciting." He made no move to come inside, not even to straighten from his position by the door. "A protector's billet. Nothing more."

"I suppose you spent more time in my rooms than in your own," she murmured.

He inclined his head. "As it was intended."

She drew in a breath, setting down the object she held. They should go. They might already be too late for the king's recognition of the new Guards. Her sisters would be there, even if she was not, but her father had sent May for her and she had no wish to get her friend in trouble.

"What is that?" Merrick asked, before she could say so aloud. He was looking at the ring she had just put down, and her gaze followed his. She touched the jewelry wistfully once more.

"My mother's engagement ring," she said. "I was the only one unmarried when she died, and so it came to me." She tried to smile and found she couldn't. "It always reminded me--"

She broke off, shaking her head. Her voice was gone, and she had to swallow before she could continue. "We should go," she whispered.

Merrick had flowed into the room before she even saw him move. "Shayla," he said softly, coming to a halt in front of her.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she felt silly for mourning something so long and unavoidably lost. She reached out blindly, laying her hand against his chest, and she felt the protector's emblem under her fingers. His hand came up to cover hers and she closed her eyes.

She felt his gentle touch on her shoulder, and she stepped into his embrace without a thought. His uniform made him stiff and uncomfortable to hold, but she had never known what she was missing until he exchanged it for the minimal layers of the future. She had never thought she would miss that ubiquitous grey t-shirt the way she did now.

"You have another life now," he was saying, voice low as it tickled her ear. "The Wild Force Rangers, and Time Force... the animal spirits... you're not alone, Shayla. Never alone."

But I am. She still couldn't speak. She just squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in his shoulder, knowing he had been right when he called the Animarium a shell. Seeing it here, it the midst of what once was, she could see it for what it had become. It was a relic, an ancient tribute to a forgotten time... a place that would keep her isolated from the future for as long as she hid behind it.

He just held her, one hand stroking her back gently, and that quiet intimacy released the tears that all her memories had not. She clung to him, trying to cry in silence, knowing that she had failed when his arms tightened around her and he laid his head against hers. He still didn't say anything.

Finally she loosened her hold on him, not because she wanted to, but because she thought she must. They couldn't stand there forever. And they had already disappeared once... better if May had never found them, she thought with a sigh. How could they leave now, when everyone would already believe them back from the temple?

"This is a bad idea," she whispered. She couldn't meet Merrick's eyes. Her entire family would be at the banquet. All of her friends. All of his friends. Everyone who had meant anything to them was now waiting on their arrival, and she didn't think she could even face May again.

"Some of the best things in my life began as amazingly bad ideas," Merrick murmured. It took her a moment to realize that he was making a joke, and she lifted her gaze to his in surprise. He was smiling at her. "Including meeting you, as I recall."

She swallowed. "Yes," she said, grateful when her voice rose above a whisper. "That idea may have been worse than this."

He touched her face gently, running his thumb across her cheek. "You did nothing wrong," he said quietly.

This time, she almost managed to smile. "I was as wrong then as I'm about to be now," she said, straightening her shoulders. "I hope it works out half as well."

He nodded once, the pretend bow that had once been so familiar, and gave her an assessing look before reaching out to her again. "You'll want to wash your face, I think." The remark was matter-of-fact, but his touch was gentle as he tweaked a curl away from her face and adjusted the flowers in her hair. "If only to make you appreciate the luxury of running water."

She blinked, careful not to move until he lowered his hand. He was joking again. He had always seemed more serious in the future, his trademark irreverence subdued by time and the circumstances surrounding his awakening. But here he was again, the Merrick she had known before... and he made her smile.

He also made her wash her face. She wasn't about to ignore his advice when he was the only mirror she had. He teased her by playing with her hair the whole time, until finally she slapped his hand away and to her utter surprise, Merrick laughed aloud.

"I don't often get to see you like this," he offered, smile lingering when he saw her expression. "I'm sorry if I presumed." He didn't sound as though he thought he had.

"No--" She reached out, touching his silver bangs impulsively. "No, you didn't."

He was still smiling. She didn't think about it, just let her fingers trail across his face, and he surprised her again by leaning into her caress. He lifted one hand to press hers against his cheek, then turned his head to kiss her palm. She caught her breath, startled and shy and speechless all at once.

"How about now?" he asked quietly. He hadn't taken his eyes off of her.

She just shook her head, quite sure that words were still beyond her.

He lowered her hand carefully. "We should go."

She opened her mouth, but she couldn't think of anything to say. Had he just kissed her? He had, she was certain--Merrick had kissed her, and she couldn't get her mind around it. She could still feel his lips against her skin. Her fingers twitched involuntarily.

Then Merrick was holding her cloak for her, and offering her his arm, and they were on their way to the banquet before she even remembered where they were going. The delight chased away the nostalgia she might otherwise have felt in the familiar halls and stairways, and her self-consciousness was forgotten by the time they emerged into the sunset light of the inner ward. She had her protector at her side, after all.

The herald who called out their names waited until they were halfway to the tables to do it, and for once she was glad of the delay. It allowed her time to see before she was seen, to take in the sight of her family before all their eyes turned toward her. She didn't let go of Merrick until she had to, but before she could sit down her father gestured for her to approach.

She curtsied, keeping her eyes on the ground a little longer than necessary as a way of delaying looking at his face. But she had to, of course, and the shock of seeing her father again after all this time brought her back to the moment. She was actually here, surrounded by her family, for possibly the last time in her life.

"Shayla, my dear, how are you feeling?" her father was asking. There was no anger for her tardiness, only concern in his expression and his voice. "May told us you weren't well."

She realized she was staring, and a smile crept across her face when his gentle question finally penetrated. "No, Father, I'm fine," she promised. "I'm only tired, I think. Perhaps I've been spending too much time at the temple." That was inarguably true, on every level.

"Perhaps," he allowed. He patted her hand, returning her smile, and added, "Just don't let Animus hear you say that, hmm?"

She looked around quickly, sure she would have noticed the lord of the wild zords at the table if he were there. He wasn't--although she did catch sight of Merrick as her gaze wandered, already eating and talking with the guards at the other end of the table. He leaned over to exchange words with the man beside him, and his eyes met her for just a moment before sliding away as though he hadn't noticed.

"He's up there," her father was saying. "Getting ready to administer the oaths. Sit down, have something to eat, my dear. If you're still feeling light-headed afterwards, I'm sure Animus will understand if you retire early."

She nodded, only hesitating a moment before she leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Of course, Father," she murmured. "Thank you."

Taking her place at the table was truly an experience out of time. As the youngest daughter, she took the seat that had been left for her between her sisters and her brother's wife. They welcomed her with varying degrees of sympathy and curiosity, turning soon to stories of the banquet and the tournament before when she insisted that a good night's sleep would fix all her ills.

Her sister slipped her a sweet roll under the table, whispering that there wouldn't be any left in the kitchens later with the way they'd disappeared. Her brother's wife poured her wine to go with dessert, and she had no intention of touching the drink but it was a courteous gesture nonetheless. As the banquet wore on, though, they kept talking and touching her and trading stories of things she had never thought to hear mentioned again, and she found that she needed something to soothe her throat when the tears threatened.

She wavered between tears and laughter for most of the evening, in fact. One of her sisters finally noticed that she was drinking the wine without eating anything to go with it, and it was taken away from her until she agreed to a second dessert. Once their meddling affection might have irritated her, but tonight it only made her smile. The wine seemed to help, too, although she knew better than to ask for more.

By the time the new Guards were taking their oaths, her emotions had settled a little, and she dared to look around for Merrick. Somewhat to her surprise, his end of the table was paying the ceremony less attention than her family gave it. Merrick actually seemed to be listening to someone beside him, though his eyes--like everyone else's--were trained on the new Guards.

She couldn't help remembering his earlier complaints about his own oath. She wondered, possibly for the first time, what exactly it had involved. Personal protectors took an additional oath, privately, away from the prying eyes of crowds like this. She had always assumed the oath was... well, personal. That it was simply a way of giving a member of the Royal Guard higher priorities than castle defense. That it was just a vow to serve one person in particular, instead of the royal family as a whole. But...

That vow takes everything you give it, Princess. Merrick's voice, with all its remembered harshness, reminded her of what she'd never thought to ask. What had he sworn when she chose him as her protector? Was the magic strong enough to bind him even now, so many lifetimes later? And if so, to bind him to what?

These oaths were ordinary enough. A promise to defend the family, to stand, to serve, and to obey. They were nothing she hadn't heard before, and she applauded the newly minted Guard members along with everyone else when they were done.

Her father stood to recognize the new soldiers. The entire court followed suit. She looked to Merrick again at that moment, but he was paying no attention to her.

Afterward, her sisters left the table one by one, joining their husbands in the entertainment that followed the banquet, and she found herself the last member of her family remaining beside her father. She could have gone off to dance or sing or just to mingle with the other members of the court, as she had so many times before. But tonight, it seemed overwhelming enough to simply sit and watch, to see something so familiar and yet so foreign.

She moved to sit closer to her father when it became clear that her sisters weren't coming back, and he smiled at her in welcome. They spoke little, but his had always been a steadfast presence in her life. Even seeing the revels around her, knowing they were only an ephemeral joy that she would take for granted until it was gone, she couldn't think the same of her father. She couldn't see him gone. Somehow she imagined him living on into the future, his spirit still with her after all this time.

Finally he leaned over and declared his intent to find a more comfortable seat from which to watch the proceedings. She was welcome to join him, he said. And as the only unmarried daughter, she knew she could take the queen's place at his side if she wished. She almost agreed--until she caught Merrick's eye, and saw again the haggard look that even firelight could not disguise.

She murmured that she would, after all, retire early, and her father nodded his assent. "I'll tell Animus you've gone," he told her. "Be sure to have someone alert your servants so you're not all alone this night."

"No, there's no need," she said quickly. "Merrick will escort me to my rooms, where I intend only to sleep. I'll see you in the morning, Father."

"Certainly, my dear." His affectionate smile broke through her resolve, and she leaned in to kiss him one last time before she took her leave.

Merrick was at her side before she'd taken more than a step away from the table. She didn't look for his arm and he didn't offer it, instead following her silently across the ward until they reached the shadows of the castle wall. There she turned without entering, taking refuge in the dimness as she stared out at the sea of celebration.

"Did we lose this?" she asked abruptly. She kept her voice quiet, so quiet that maybe he wouldn't even hear her over the sound of the people and the music and the fires that towered, high and bright against the blackness of the sky. "Or did we gain something more?"

His voice came from somewhere behind her--no closer than she'd expected. "Can it not be both, Princess?"

She turned around, and she could see the surprise on his face at her action. She stared into his eyes and he didn't look away. "Were you happy here, Merrick?"

He hesitated, but he didn't move. "As happy as I am anywhere, I suppose."

She held his gaze, silently asking for the truth.

"Yes," he admitted after a moment. "I was happy here... with you."

"So was I," she murmured, looking out at the ward one more time. Then she straightened her shoulders and asked, "Will you walk with me?" It was a question, not a command, though she had no doubt that he would agree.

"Of course, Princess."

This time she did take his arm, and she was grateful for the connection. She didn't know if it was the food, or the wine, or more than anything the shock of being in the castle again after so many years of being resigned to its loss. But she hadn't only been making excuses when she said she needed some peace and rest.

Merrick, somehow, provided both with nothing more than his presence.

When they reached her rooms, however, he paused by the doors. "There will be no one inside," he reminded her quietly. "I should not enter with you."

She bit back her immediate protest. "Then," she said instead, "take me to your room."

She thought the absurd request might be enough to make him agree. It was, after all, far easier to explain his presence in her rooms than it would be to explain hers in his. In fact, she was quite sure there was no explanation whatsoever for the latter.

The look he gave her was more amused than exasperated. "That is a truly foolish notion," he said, very quietly. "And you know it."

She smiled at his open defiance. "Join me here, then. I will not have us separated, and it is early yet to return to the temple. If we are to search for a way back, it must be after we have left."

He looked at her for a moment. "We should leave before we return," he pointed out, and the humor she had seen earlier still lurked in his expression. "Or the guards at the gatehouse will be confused."

"It's early yet," she repeated. Pushing the doors open, she added, "Please, Merrick. There is something I want to ask you."

She heard him sigh, and the sound brought the smile back to her face. No matter their surroundings, he was still the man she knew. And one she still hoped to know better.

Her rooms were indeed empty--she went through and checked them all--but someone had been there, because the remains of her meal were gone and her nightclothes had been laid out on the bed. It surprised her to realize that she missed these quiet signs of human companionship. Even when there was no one in sight, she had always known that someone was there.

She turned to leave her bedchamber and came up short. For all Merrick's reluctance to enter, there he was, lounging in the doorway just as he had before. "I think you should take your mother's ring," he said, before she could speak.

She stared at him in surprise. "What?"

His expression didn't change. "You brought nothing with you when I took you to the temple," he said. "That last time... you traveled empty-handed. Because I told you that you would be back. That it was only a temporary measure, necessary to ensure the people's peace of mind--"

"Merrick, stop." She wouldn't let him shoulder this burden, too. "You didn't tell me I would be back. You told me that you would be. And you are."

He shook his head, but at least he didn't look away. "You didn't even get a chance to say goodbye."

"Through no fault of yours," she insisted. "You lost more than I did that day."

He held his hands out to his sides in a gesture she didn't understand until he said, "You've been able to do this since you woke up?" His pointed gaze swept over his uniform before returning to her. "You gave up your humanity as surely as I did, Princess."

She opened her mouth, troubled by the implication that the curse had taken more than his identity. Troubled by the thought that it lingered on him still, if Zen-Aku was speaking to her through him in the future. Or maybe... perhaps most of all, troubled that she had banished him from the Animarium for something that hadn't been true for more than three thousand years.

"Take something with you this time," he said softly. "To assuage my guilt, Shayla, if for no other reason."

She drew in a breath. "Will you tell me something?"

Something unidentifiable flickered in his expression. "Anything."

"What oath did you give before you became my protector?"

He didn't move. "You must know."

She shook her head.

"I swore to protect you," he said flatly. There was no trace of the anger and bitterness that had laced his tone when he spoke of his oath in the future. "Before all others."

She hesitated, suddenly aware that she couldn't press without telling him why. Why couldn't she just accept that? Why did she think there had to be more? And why was it so important to her now?

"Why do you ask?" He was watching her carefully, his expression a little softer now. Closer, maybe. "Not because of the ceremony tonight."

"No," she admitted quietly. She sighed, meeting his gaze again. "Something you said... in the future. About your oath--you said, 'it takes everything you give it.' I don't know what you meant by that."

He was very still. "Did I say that... today?" he asked at last.

She just nodded.

There was another long moment of silence, and then he shook his head. "You'll have to tell me," he muttered. "Tell me what we were talking about at the time, because I don't remember. I don't know what I meant."

She tried to take a deep breath, felt it catch in the back of her throat. "I can't," she said, shaking her head. She looked away so she wouldn't see the dismay on his face. "It's not important."

"Princess." It turned out that she didn't have to see it when she could hear it in his voice. He paused, though, and she thought he might relent. But then he added, more quietly, "Please, Shayla."

She couldn't refuse. "You asked," she whispered, "whether or not Dakura meant the oath as you did. You asked whether he gave me everything you did. If--" Her voice trembled, and she swallowed hard. "You asked if I knew how you had suffered for his mistakes."

When he didn't answer, she lifted her head and found that he was leaning against the doorframe with his eyes closed. At first she thought there was something wrong, that he wasn't well, but then he stirred. "I'm sorry," he muttered. Opening his eyes, he told her, "I wish I hadn't said that to you."

She meant to reassure him, she meant to say that it was done and he shouldn't worry about it now, but what came out was, "I wish I knew what you meant."

For a moment, she thought he wasn't going to tell her. Then he muttered, "The oath is simple. But it doesn't mean the same thing to everyone."

She didn't dare move, waiting to see if he would continue.

He was looking at her again, the haunted look that she hated. "We swear to protect someone, at any cost, up to and including our own life." He paused, and she couldn't see anything past that expression. "But to protect them from what? That part of the oath is implicit. Some--" He swallowed. "Some people interpret it differently than others."

When it became clear that he was waiting for her response, she asked tentatively, "And you? How do you interpret it?"

He sighed, lifting one hand to push his hair back in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture. "The day I gave that oath, Princess... it was immediately after you chose me. You had no official guard in--in his absence, and your father wanted someone as quickly as possible. It was all..."

"It was done in a hurry," she said when he trailed off. Oddly, she felt calm in the face of his discomfort. "I remember."

"I didn't know you then," he insisted. "I met you that night, and I didn't see you again until after the ceremony... it happened so quickly," he muttered. "I didn't know you at all." He seemed almost desperate that she understand this.

"I didn't know you either," she said quietly. "I was just trying to fix everything... It was another rash decision on my part, I'm afraid."

"I swore to protect you." He was staring at her, and she didn't understand the anguish she saw on his face at all. "From everything, Shayla. I wasn't thinking, I didn't know--it seemed so reasonable at the time. When I said I would keep you from all harm, I meant everything. Intentional or accidental, physical or... otherwise."

She tried to smile, worried by his intensity. "No one can protect someone from everything, Merrick."

"No one told me that," he said softly, his words no less serious for the change in tone. "I wasn't that much older than you were. All I could think of was that night and how wrong it all was and how it could never happen again. Not to a princess of Animaria... not when I could be there to stop it."

"And it hasn't," she murmured, at a loss. What was so terrible about that?

"Don't you see," he insisted, "I didn't just swear to swear to keep you from harm! I swore to protect your heart!"

He lowered his head, muttering hopelessly, "And then I lost mine to you."

Now she had to smile, touched and thoroughly warmed by his declaration. "All these years," she said gently, "you've done a fine job of protecting my heart."

"No," he countered. He still refused to meet her eyes. "Every time I've hurt you, every time I've made you cry... I've broken my vow as your protector."

"Merrick..." The smile faded, and she shook her head. "You never have. That couldn't have been the intent of the oath."

"The way the oath is taken," he told the floor. "It senses your intent. Animus senses your intent, and binds you to it. I admit--"

He looked up suddenly, searching her face. "I sometimes wondered what he thought of my intent that day. I thought... he might have known what happened. I thought you--he--might have expected me to swear as I did."

"No," she said softly. "Animus never knew. At least," she corrected, "I never told him. And I didn't--Merrick... I never would have asked more of you than you were willing to give."

"But I was willing," he replied, just as quietly. "I gave you everything without a moment's hesitation. Animus wouldn't have let me do it if it wasn't what I wanted."

She was afraid to say that he must have regretted it since. She didn't want to hear him agree.

"As I came to know you," he said after a moment, "I began to realize that my vow would be more complicated than I'd thought. To protect you from harm," he added, with a mocking half-smile, "I understood that I would also have to protect you from me."

She shook her head in mute denial. It was a ridiculous idea, one that didn't even deserve consideration. She didn't want to be protected from Merrick. Not from anything about him.

He straightened suddenly, all expression gone from his face. He held up a hand to her, and she stilled immediately. Was there someone else here?

Then she heard it too: a sound from the outer rooms, the opening and closing of a door. One of the girls, she wondered? She could only hope it was May. Merrick shouldn't be in her bedchamber at all, and after the scandal with her first protector...

The sound of heavy footsteps preceded her unannounced visitor, and her eyes widened. Not a girl's slippers. Merrick's dagger was in his hand as he slipped behind the doorway and shot her a quick glance. She pointed to the wall, but he shook his head. She was out of line of sight from the door, and moving in this dress would inevitably make a sound.

The footsteps paused outside the inner door. Merrick must have closed it behind him when he followed her in here. She didn't have time to think about what that meant before a gentle knock sounded on the door.

They exchanged glances again. There was a different kind of panic between them now, because if it wasn't an intruder, then it was someone who had the right of access. There would be no hiding Merrick's presence from a family member.

"Shayla?" It was a man's voice that called softly from the other side of the door. "Are you awake?"

She put her hand over her mouth. Not a family member after all. And not someone who could be in any way deceived, either.

"Yes," she called, knowing there was nothing else to do but tell the truth. "Come in, Animus."

Merrick didn't put his dagger away until the door opened and it was clear that it was in fact Animus who had requested entrance. Then he took a knee, lowering his eyes, and the man's knowing gaze swept from her to Merrick and back again. "I would not have admitted me," he remarked, closing the door behind him. "Under the circumstances."

"You knew we were here," she said, staring at the floor as she curtsied. "It seemed foolish to hide it."

A gentle breeze tugged at her hair, and she lifted her head in surprise. Animus was studying her openly. "You are not the guardian I know," he said. "And yet you are. Can you explain this?"

She looked down at the floor again, caught completely unprepared. Of course she could explain it. But could she do it in a way that made any sense at all?

"Princess," Merrick said softly. "If I may."

"Of course," she murmured, knowing he might not see her nod.

"Animus," he told the floor. "Your princess is at the temple tonight out of concern for me. My princess is here... also, I'm afraid, out of concern for me. I know it seems impossible, but I believe that by tomorrow we will be gone and only the people you know will remain."

The air stirred around him this time, and she could see it ruffle his hair. "I see," Animus said at last. "Rise, Merrick. And tell me, if you will, whether or not the name Lady Jennifer means anything to you?"

Merrick stood, keeping his eyes respectfully lowered. "It does, Animus."

She tried not to smile in relief, but she was sure some of it came through in her expression anyway. "It is a name familiar to you as well," Animus observed, and she nodded once.

"Well." She heard him turn, and the door opened again. "Lady Jennifer? Will you join us now?"

She lifted her head in time to see Jen precede the lord of the wild zords into her bedchamber. She was dressed as a noble, an outland cape fastened around her shoulders, and she moved with an approximation of a lady's careful grace. She swept her skirt aside in a deep curtsy as soon as she entered the room and she addressed only Shayla. "Forgive me for disturbing you, Princess."

Animus was watching her with an amused expression. "I do not know you," he remarked. From anyone else, it would have been an idle comment, at most an invitation, but from him it was a matter of utmost curiosity. Animus knew everyone.

Merrick spoke without asking this time. "She has come to resolve the discrepancy you spoke of, Animus."

Animus didn't take his eyes off of "Lady Jennifer," who remained facing Shayla. Her posture was relaxed and her eyes were downcast. "I seek your assurance, then," Animus told her, "that no harm will come the guardian of my temple or her protector."

"By tomorrow," she said calmly, "everything here will be as it was."

Animus seemed to darken. "That is not what I asked, Lady Jennifer."

She didn't move. "I can't promise what I don't know, my lord. All I can tell you is that I will do everything in my power to ensure their safety."

"Jen--" She stopped when she realized that perhaps she should have addressed her otherwise. But it was too late to change that now. "Is there some question?"

Jen caught her eye, silently questioning, and she could only nod. There was no use trying to hide things in the presence of Animus. Maybe Jen knew that.

She spoke as though she did, without reservation. "The wolf spirit is out of time, Princess. I don't know what that will mean for Merrick if we go back."

"If?" she repeated.

Jen met her gaze steadily. "You could stay here. I know the future isn't easy for you--either of you," she added, acknowledging Merrick with a brief glance. "You might simply vanish into one of the outland courts. Merrick could keep you safe, and I wouldn't be able to find you."

She gave that suggestion the consideration it deserved, but it came down to only one question. "Can you help Merrick if we go back?"

Jen's expression was one of sympathy, but she didn't have an answer. "Can you break his bond with the wolf zord?" she countered.

If it were anyone else, she would have said yes. Some were more easily dissolved than others, but all the warriors could refuse the choice of the animal spirits if it became necessary. Merrick, though... he had been the wolf for so long. She wasn't sure that could ever be reversed.

It was Animus' voice that broke the silence. "The wolf isn't one of mine," he observed.

Her gaze went to Merrick without thought, and she found him looking back at her. "He will be," she said softly.

"Indeed?" Animus, too, turned his gaze on Merrick, and this time it was as fond as it was speculative. "In that case, I will look after him. You need not worry."

She wished she could take him at his word. "But Animus--the last time we saw you... you said there was no reason for you to return."

He looked at her, and his expression didn't change. "Then give me one," he advised her gently.

She glanced at Merrick. He nodded, answering her unspoken question. Then, quietly, he added, "We don't belong here, Princess. Not anymore."

She tried to smile. "We're going with you," she told Jen. "But first--"

She took a deep breath, then turned to Animus. "Can you dissolve Merrick's oath? The one he made to me, when he became my protector?"

"What?" It was Merrick who reacted. "No! That was for life, Shayla, and I won't go back on my word!"

She did smile this time, secretly delighted that it had taken so little to make him forget himself. It seemed the "princess" habit wasn't so hard to break, after all. "You have another life now," she reminded him. "I want you with me because you want to be, not because you have to be."

This time the wind that whispered into the room swirled around them all, making the flowers around her wrist flutter even as they tossed Merrick's hair away from his face. Jen looked down in surprise as her cape rippled in the windowless room. Animus was the only one who remained untouched, an island of stillness in the center of sudden motion.

It was over as quickly as it began. "The oath is gone," Animus announced.

"Thank you," she murmured.

The lord of the wild zords shook his head. "It was not my doing," he said mildly. "Merrick's oath ceased to bind him long ago... longer ago than I had thought him to have lived.

"I do not know what this means," he added. He sounded as though his lack of comprehension intrigued him as much as the mystery itself. "From your conversation, however, I may be able to guess."

"But--" Merrick had clearly given up on maintaining any pretense of belonging to this time. "I can still feel her, Animus. I know when she's nearby, I know--where she is. I have to be with her," he muttered.

Animus actually smiled at him. "That vow was broken by death, Merrick. Yours or hers, I do not know, but that is what I sense. All I can tell you is that, whatever you feel, it is not the result of your oath.

"And," he added, as though it were of no great consequence, "that it's time for you to go."

She looked up in surprise, but he was watching "Lady Jennifer." Jen seemed to have her eyes on her bare wrist. A breeze made her decorative sleeves billow, however, and in its wake the ghostly image of her chronomorpher was visible.

Jen clapped her hand over the device just before it faded, narrowing her eyes at Animus. "You," she muttered, "are trouble. My lord."

This seemed to please him. "Indeed," he agreed genially. "I hope we will encounter one another again."

Shayla went to gather her skirt before she realized, "I can't take this dress with me."

Animus glanced at her, and she stepped back in surprise as a shower of golden sparkles swirled around her. When she looked down, she was wearing her temple dress, and the other one was laid out on the bed as it had been when she came in. "Oh," she said, at something of a loss. "Thank you."

"Indeed," Merrick said wryly. It was difficult to tell which of them he was mocking. "How strangely... familiar."

Animus only stepped aside, allowing Jen to pass. When she went to follow, though, she remembered Merrick's request and came to an abrupt halt. "Wait--"

"Princess," Merrick said at the same time. She turned to find him holding something, something small that caught the lamplight when he held it up. She couldn't help but smile.

She reached out to take it from him, but he caught her hand and turned it over. So softly she could barely hear it, he murmured, "I take thee," as he slid her mother's engagement ring onto her finger.

"And I thee," she whispered, curling her fingers around his. Hand in hand, he followed her from the room without another word.

Those last moments in the castle passed in a blur. Animus, promising he had seen nothing that needed to be shared, and Jen, telling them that they would need to leave from the same place they arrived. Taking their leave of Animus, or him taking his leave of them--it had always been hard to distinguish--and making their way out into the night that had settled over the ancient fortress and the valley beyond.

It was a long, cool walk without the cloak May had brought her. Jen handed over her cape as soon as they passed the gatehouse, and she couldn't find it in her heart to protest. Jen answered their questions as briefly as she could: yes she had gotten Wes' message, yes they had stepped through a time hole in the wolf's den, no she didn't know how the wolf spirit was now. Yes Animus had found her before she could find them, and no she didn't know how.

Merrick produced Taylor's detector upon request, and Jen shook her head. "I've told them not to reverse engineer Time Force technology," she said under her breath. "I'm going to get in trouble for that."

"It didn't seem to work properly," Shayla ventured. "It registered a time hole in the future, but as soon as we were here it stopped detecting anything."

"It's not temporally insulated," Jen told her. "Jury-rigged technology at best. It works in the time they made it, but it doesn't stand up to travel."

By this, she understood her to mean time travel. Jen was clearly not in a pleasant mood. She sidled closer to her protector, hugging the cape around her shoulders, and she smiled when Merrick slid an arm around her. Wasn't it all worth it, for this?

The valley of the wild zords was as quiet as they'd left it, and Jen led them unerringly back toward the place that would become the wolf's den. The wolf wasn't there, of course, and she reminded herself not to see an omen in the facts of the past.

Jen's chronomorpher was clearly visible now as she pulled out a much smaller version of Taylor's detector and began to scan the area. "This way," she called, her voice pitched to carry. It probably didn't matter. The valley was mostly empty, and they were almost gone anyway...

"Through here." Jen had stopped in a place that seemed no different from a dozen others, clearly indicating that they were to go first. She didn't say anything when Merrick stopped, though, giving the space a suspicious look before clenching his fingers and taking a deep breath.

"Princess--" He turned to her, then smiled awkwardly. "Shayla. In case something happens..."

"It won't," she interrupted. "We'll find a way to fix this, Merrick."

"Still..." He glanced at Jen.

Jen stared back at him for a long moment before turning away with a sigh.

She knew what he was going to do even before he took a step toward her. It was all there in his eyes--and why had she never known before that you could see a kiss in someone's eyes? Why hadn't she known that all she would have to do was watch to give him permission? Why hadn't it ever occurred to her that it could be this easy?

Then he had pressed his lips to hers and drawn away, his close warmth the only proof that it had happened at all. "I love you," he said quietly.

"And I you," she whispered.

They just stood there, looking at each other, until Jen said over her shoulder, "Today would be good, guys."

Merrick lowered his head, smiling in rueful acknowledgement even as he looked at her from under his bangs. He spoke for both of them when he said, "We're ready."

She reached for his hand, the ring a strange weight against her skin when he squeezed her fingers. Jen turned, studying her scanner, and she held up her hand in front of them in what looked like some sort of routine gesture. When she nodded, they stepped forward together, and only when Jen vanished did it become clear that she had been marking the edge of the time hole for them.

The den was the same. The wolf was back. And Moon was waiting for them.

Everything else flew out of her head as Merrick collapsed at her side.