Tiffany Dunn - If I Should Never Find You

"What was that?" she hissed, afraid the crazy woodsman and his wife were following them.

"I assume you're speaking of the Medusa. There is only ever one alive at one time in the Nine Kingdoms, so I can assure you she is the only one we will be running into. I never imagined she would settle down."

"And she can really turn people to stone?"

Wendell frowned at her. "Whether you believe in it or not, magic exists here, Melissa, and it is almost always dangerous. You must not take anything magical lightly, or it could cost you your life."

She started to argue with him and then realized there was no way to make an argument stick. Hedging her bets was the safest choice, at this point. She slowed down to wait for Teresa, who was walking behind them again. "Are you doing all right?" she whispered, concerned at the strange look in Terry's eyes.

"Yes. I'm just a little tired, though."

"We've had a busy day." She tried not to think of the image of the headless dog. "Wendell," she called louder, causing him to stop. "Don't you think we should get some sleep? We're exhausted."

He hurried back to them, hands clenched at his sides. In his pale eyes she recognized a deep concern, and something else that wasn't quite real. "I am very sorry, Melissa. I didn't mean to push either of you. It is very important we find the mirror, but not at such a cost. I'm afraid the only place to sleep is the ground, though. Not quite a fitting bed for a famous woman."

"Or a king," Melissa retorted.

"Point taken." He looked more pleased than angry. "Will you be all right to sleep out here, Teresa?"

The older woman smiled tiredly. "I believe I would sleep on rocks right now."

Melissa squeezed her arm gently. "I'll set up a comfortable bed for you. You won't even realize you're sleeping on the ground. Can you walk just a little while more until we find a suitable spot?"

"I could carry you," Wendell piped in, his words touching Melissa's heart.

She could see Teresa felt the same way by the light in her eyes. "I'm not an invalid, dears. I can make it awhile longer. But thank you for the offer."

Wendell, casting a questioning glance to Melissa first, led them along for another few minutes before finding a place where they could have a fire for warmth. Already the night air was getting chilly, much more than it would in Los Angeles. Melissa gathered branches and large leaves while Wendell disappeared to gather food. Calling on old skills, she fashioned a sort of bed for Terry. "See?" she said proudly, once it was complete. "I knew being a Girl Scout would be useful someday."

She half expected to hear Wendell's voice, asking her what a 'Girl Scout' was, but he still had not returned. Melissa had the feeling he'd meant what he'd said earlier about wanting to know everything about her. It was the way he looked, when she caught him staring. His gaze was very intense. It reminded her of Rob before he'd changed. Before he'd turned dangerous.

"Where are you, hon?"

"I'm right here, Terry." Melissa reached down to scratch Sport, who was inspecting Teresa's bed. "That's a silly question."

Terry smiled the peculiar smile of an old woman that knows too much. "Your body is here, but your mind is not." Melissa didn't offer an opening for discussion, but the other woman pressed anyway. "Rob?"

"What about him?"

"You always look like that when you think of him."

Melissa couldn't meet her eyes, not wanting to concede defeat. "Honestly, Terry, you think about him more than I do. I was thinking about this place. He's in the past."

"Yes," Teresa snapped. Melissa looked at her then, surprised to hear the tension. It was so rare for Terry to be upset about anything. "He is." She waved a perfectly manicured finger in front of Melissa's nose. "And you can tell me that you don't think of him, but don't you lie to yourself. Don't ever lie to yourself, Melissa Dukavski."

Melissa's resistance crumbled. She had no defenses where Terry was concerned. "I hate him," she whispered. "I think about him and I hate him for it. I hate that he was never punished. That's what bothers me most. I can't stop thinking about it."

"You have to try. Revenge will devour your whole life. It'll change you, just as surely as drugs." She wrapped her arm around Melissa's shoulders. "Most of the time you won't get revenge for the evils you see committed. It's not fair, but it's life."

"What kind of a life is that? What kind of a world do we live in?"

Teresa brushed her hand across Melissa's hair. "The only world you know. Revenge is a dangerous force, Missy, especially when it hides under justice's cloak. Don't forget that, no matter what world you're in." She let go then, and sat down on her bed as Wendell came back into the clearing.

His face, shadowed by the forest canopy, still shone with pleasure. Melissa smiled just to look at him as he cradled a fair amount of food in his arms.

"Success!" he announced. He had a remarkable voice. Every word was uttered so precisely, layered by his accent. She decided that she loved to listen to him talk.

He set all the food next to Teresa and than sat down in the dirt. "These are wonderberries," he said, plucking a bright blue berry from the pile. "They are very good, but very sweet. I also found some tubers. These," he held up a long, dirty root-looking piece of food, "are rather bland but very healthy." He handed the tuber to Melissa, his gaze expectant.

She turned it over in her hands and brushed some of the dirt off. It was like being in LA, where everyone this year was a vegetarian. "Thank you, Wendell. This is really great."

From his smile she decided that was the right response. If he was a dog, his tail would be wagging, she thought. They split the food up evenly and began to eat in silence. After awhile, Melissa spit out a wonderberry seed and asked, "What are we going to do next? Where do we go from here?"

Wendell hastily wiped his chin. "Well, I thought we should follow the trader's tracks. You can see where the cart went, when the moonlight hits it. In the morning it should be quite easy to follow."

"Won't the trader have gone quite a ways?"

"I imagine whoever it is will have already stopped for the evening, just as we have. We won't catch up, but I don't believe it is a hopeless cause."

She nodded and held back the rest of her questions. There were parts of this situation that Melissa didn't quite understand, and knew she probably wasn't prepared to. They finished their meal and Terry stretched out on her bed, complimenting it loudly. Melissa hushed her quickly, embarrassed.

Stoking the small fire, Wendell huddled closer to it, having given his cloak to Teresa to use. Melissa could feel his eyes on her again. Sport curled at her feet while she idly stroked his fur, the soft hairs tickling her fingertips. At this time yesterday she had been at home and awake, watching some late night movie with no plot and bad acting, grateful simply that it wasn't one of hers. She'd had several glasses of wine but still suffered from the insomnia that had plagued her for months now. Her future worried her as much as her present did, and her conscience kindly topped it all off with guilt that she worried at all. Melissa couldn't get past the reality that no one would understand, much less care, about the whimpering of a world-famous actress. Why would she have problems? they all asked. Most people thought any problems she had were made up.

The only people she didn't have to pay to listen to her were here with her now.

"Are you cold?" Wendell asked softly. The firelight caressed his face, hiding the dirt in shadows until she almost believed he was a king in disguise.

But that was ridiculous. Melissa knew better than anyone that only happened in the movies.

"I'm fine. The fire's nice."

He smiled, and she saw for the first time how charming his smile was. Infectious. "I don't have many chances to use my outdoorsman skills," he admitted.

"Me either." She continued to stroke Sport, who purred contentedly.

"Why doesn't he run away?"

She looked down at the orange tabby who was stretched completely out now. "I've had Sport since he was a few days old. I hand-reared him because his mother had died. He's been following me around for years. Usually it's annoying, but I'm glad now."

Wendell had his knees drawn up and his head rested on them. His eyes never left her face. "Have you had many pets?"

She smiled, shaking her head. "He's my first, actually. I never really had time before."

"What changed?"

Melissa watched the steady movement of her hand, not wanting to answer that question. What had changed was Rob. She had been so lonely then that when she'd stumbled on the box of kittens she wanted to keep all of them. But after the vet's warning of how difficult it would be -- and Rob's concealed threats -- she had kept only Sport. He had helped her as much as Terry had.

"Melissa?"

Her gaze jerked up, and his eyes captured and held her. Still, it wasn't enough. "My life changed," she said, biting off the words. Wendell frowned, so quickly she thought she imagined it, and looked away.

"We should go to sleep," he said, lying down and pillowing his head on his arm. "You are sure you're not cold?"

Melissa lay down across from him, her eyes suddenly heavy. Sport curled up against her knees, still purring. How nice it would be to sleep next to someone again, she thought. "Are you?" she asked aloud. If he answers 'yes,' then there's no harm in suggesting it.

Wendell's blue eyes seemed deep and dark in the flickering shadows. He had to know what she was thinking. She could feel him inside her mind.

"No," he whispered. "I'm not cold." He shut his eyes then and turned onto his back.

Melissa lay awake long into the night, watching the fire as it danced across his cheeks.

Wendell woke up first the next morning, shivering and covered with dew.

He saw the gray ashes of the fire and looked past it to Melissa. She was asleep, but dark circles still shadowed her eyes. It was the first time he'd seen her in good light, and the only chance he'd had to watch her without fear of being noticed. He took advantage of it, supporting himself on his elbow until his arm started to go numb. Last night had been almost impossible. There had been such a need in her expression that he almost couldn't believe he'd refused to join her. But he knew it wouldn't have been right. She was probably afraid, though she hid it well, and it would have been taking advantage of her to expose that need and use it.

Regardless, that had been the most difficult offer he'd ever turned down.

He shifted to ease the pressure on his tingling arm and continued to watch Melissa, noting that Sport was still curled up next to her. He stopped watching only when Teresa began to wake.

Slowly, Wendell climbed to his feet, brushing his arms and smoothing down his curls as much as possible. It was silly, but he didn't want to look bad in front of Melissa. I am certain the peasant outfit is not helping my case, he sighed, looking at the dull, dirty clothes he wore. She made him feel so off-balanced and uneasy. It was an embarrassing thing for the King of the Fourth Kingdom to be struck like an adolescent boy just by looking at her.

"Good morning, Wendell."

He jerked his eyes away from Melissa and smiled at the older woman. "Good morning, Teresa. Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough." She pulled his cloak tighter around herself. "Thank you for this, I would've frozen without it."

He smiled wider, pleased it had helped. "We have some food left over for breakfast. I thought we should eat as we walked. We need to make as much time on foot as we can."

"Of course."

They both glanced at Melissa again, who had not stirred.

"Do you really think we'll find it?" Teresa whispered.

Wendell looked at his nails, noting the dirt caked beneath them. "Yes," he finally said. "I have to. I have to send Melissa home." He hoped the ache in his voice was not too noticeable.

When he looked at Teresa she was staring at him, those kind eyes seeing too much. He felt judged by that stare, as though she was weighing his soul. "There is something you should know," she said.

Wendell held her gaze, uncomfortable as it was, and nodded slowly. "What is it?"

Melissa stirred, stretched, and opened her eyes, interrupting Teresa's next words. He met the older woman's eyes but she shook her head very slightly, no.

"Good morning," Melissa murmured, sitting up. She hugged herself, shivering a little.

Wendell held himself in place, though he wanted to kneel by Melissa's side and hold her until she was warm. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes." She was obviously avoiding looking at him. "Terry can we...uh," she jerked her head at the woods, and Wendell saw her cheeks redden very slightly. He kept his best serious expression as they walked a little ways into the woods, and then walked the opposite direction himself, grinning.

A short while later, they were walking again, following the cart tracks in the brightness of morning. The air was breezy and would be nice later when the sun was up and shining fully. For now, they ate and walked as fast as Teresa could manage. Melissa had finally let Sport travel on his own, and he trailed along behind them, batting at the occasional dangling plant. He never let them get too far out of sight, though. Wendell marveled how he shared in the leftover tubers after some convincing. He never thought a cat would eat what it was told to.

When breakfast was finished, Melissa suggested that Wendell tell them what had happened with Virginia and how they had saved the Kingdoms. Though he much rather would have listened to her talk, he told them everything as he had experienced it, and what he had heard from Antony. How Relish had helped the queen escape and he'd been turned into a dog. His initial trip across the mirror. His subsequent stay in Snow White Memorial Prison, which, he was proud to inform them, had a new and better prison governor now. And the foursome's adventures, from his being turned to gold, to the way Wolf had saved everyone at his coronation ball. He got the feeling that Melissa still wasn't convinced of some of it, especially about him being a king. It was late afternoon by the time he ended with Virginia and Wolf's departure. The four were stopped for a rest, and Wendell had his cloak back. It had grown very warm, especially with the distance they were traveling, and no one had needed the extra heat of a cloak. Sport was stretched out on the ground, covered in sunlight.

"I can't believe she had to kill her own mother," Melissa murmured for the fourth time. Her eyes had glazed over a bit at that part, and Wendell wasn't entirely sure she'd heard the end of the tale.

"She was an evil woman, Melissa," he reminded her. "Virginia had no choice."

"Yeah, I know. But her own mother? I don't know how she could do it. I couldn't, and I don't even remember my real mother."

"You don't?" He helped Teresa to stand and waited for Melissa to do the same. He knew better than to try to offer now, she'd rebuffed help the three previous times he'd tried.

Melissa shrugged. "She died when I was two. Terry's taken care of me since then." He saw the gentleness in her eyes when she looked at Teresa, and felt filled with pride. At least the woman he was in love with understood such devotion.

Wendell spun on his heel and began following the trail again, muttering to himself. Not in love with. Attracted to. End of story. You are King Wendell, who has to marry according to his kingdom's needs. That is what kings do, remember that. Look what happened when my father married the evil queen because he loved her. That stilled the pounding of his heart. He loved his father, but the man had been very foolish. He would not risk the kingdoms like that.

But he could only stick to that promise as long as he never looked at Melissa again.

Wendell groaned and wished fervently that they would find the mirror soon. The sooner she went home, the easier it would be. Every time he talked to her he found new things to admire and actual reasons to be in love with her. It was driving him crazy.

"Are you in a hurry?"

He slowed down, waiting for the women to catch up. Both were looking at him strangely, and he smiled, trying to put them at ease. "I am simply anxious to find the mirror. I'm sure you can understand that." They both nodded, but neither one looked as eager as they had been yesterday. He didn't bother to try and understand why.

Walking in silence, they were able to hear the shouting and loud laughter of a group in the distance before they came upon them. Teresa scooped Sport up into her arms and Wendell held out a hand to keep the women back as he crept forward to look, but Melissa followed him anyway. He tried to ignore the warmth of her as she stood close to him and peered out of the bushes at a large, wooden cabin. It was still late afternoon and sunny, but there was a lantern in the only window they could see. From underneath the closed door the sounds of a raucous crowd tumbled forth. There was a sign over the door with "House of Wood" and a picture of a house and a pig carved into it. Wendell's brow furrowed as he tried to recall where this was. It was the only building they'd seen all day, but a dirt path bisected the trail they had been following, and the path showed more signs of use.

"What is this?" Melissa whispered, her breath tickling his ear.

"I believe it is a half-way point. There must be two small villages nearby." He pointed, "look at that path. This is a tavern. I believe our trader stopped here on his way." Pulling back, he touched Melissa's shoulder gently and gestured to where Teresa was waiting. The older woman joined them and they approached the building, the noise getting louder as they got closer.

As they neared, Wendell stopped the two women. "I should warn you, their reactions will probably be unnerving."

"Unnerving?" Melissa looked at him skeptically. "Why?"

"I expect there will be quite a bit of bowing and scraping and that sort of thing when they see me. Try not to be embarrassed."

He saw her lips twitch. "We'll try," she said seriously.

Wendell ignored her sarcasm and settled the cloak around his shoulders. He smoothed down his hair once more and pulled the door open.

A rush of laughter and the sour stench of sweat bowled into them. The room was filled past capacity with mostly men. It was stifling, even just standing outside the room. He felt the hairs on his arms stand up, and knew this wouldn't go well. Wendell thought about keeping Melissa and Teresa outside, and knew they would never listen.

He forced his way into the room and felt forty pairs of eyes settle on his face. The room went abnormally silent, until even the slight breeze stilled. Here we go, Wendell thought, ready for a little vindication.

But just as abruptly as it had come, the silence disappeared, swallowed up as the patrons' restarted conversations and the wind fought its way back in the door. Wendell stood in the middle of the room, gaping. They had looked him over and then completely ignored him. He felt a hand on his shoulder and heard Melissa's voice in his ear. "You're right," she said softly. "That was embarrassing."

"Very funny," he muttered. "Let's talk to the tavern owner." He headed for the hulking man behind the cramped bar, Melissa holding onto his cloak to keep from getting separated. A growl settled in his throat as he fought his way through, and panic seized him. He could not afford to go doggy right now.

A space opened between two smelly individuals and he lunged for it, grabbing onto the wood tightly. One of the men, bald and sweaty with perfect teeth, snarled at Wendell, and he had to suppress his own return growl. The man on the other side -- tall and possessing a ridiculous amount of muscles -- sneered silently.

"Need somethin?"

Wendell looked up to see the tavern owner, who was somehow even larger than he had thought. He swallowed down his fear. "Actually, yes. Did a trader come through here recently, perhaps with a cart full of items?"

The man eyed him with squinty, suspicious eyes. Even if he answered, Wendell wasn't sure whether to trust him. "Aye, he did. He's gone now. Headed down that path." The man nodded his head to his right, keeping both thick hands planted firmly on the counter. Obviously he still doesn't recognize me, Wendell thought.

"Need anythin' else?"

"Actually, yes, good sir. I'm calling on you, as a Citizen of the Fourth Kingdom, to give me the food and shelter I require."

All three men stared at him, their faces twitching.

"Give you food? By the bloody queen, why should I? Who're you, then?"

Standing as straight and tall as he could with two women clutching his cloak, Wendell summoned twenty-one years of training. "I am King Wendell White, Ruler of the Fourth Kingdom."

The men gaped at him and then exploded with laughter. Wendell was overwhelmed by the foul smell of beer and bad breath. If I was a dog, he thought, that smell alone would kill me.

"Lookit him!" the tavern owner shouted over the din his customers made. "He says he's the king!" The several men packed in around them also started guffawing. Wendell growled low, the soft sounds overpowered by the noise.

"Hey, king," someone nearby shouted, "where'r all yer fancy clothes?"

"He's too dirty to be king!"

"But I am," Wendell protested, trying to stay calm. Did no one believe him anymore?

"If you're King Wendell, then I'm Snow White!" the tavern owner roared.

Wendell tugged his cloak out of Melissa's grasp and leaned over the counter. "I ... am ... King ... Wendell," he forced out between clenched teeth.

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall, I'm the fairest one of all!" the huge man squealed in a low falsetto. Wendell's teeth ground together. You are not a dog, he told himself sternly. They were all enjoying themselves entirely too much at his expense, but he wasn't going to let the old magic take over.

Then the tall man stretched past him and grabbed Melissa's arm.

Wendell turned and punched him in the stomach, his fist slamming into the other man's rock-hard muscles. It was like hitting a bloody troll.

The man shifted his gaze and spared Wendell a glare before retaliating with a simple shove that tumbled him backwards into the two women. Wendell recovered without falling and leapt for the tall man's throat, but never made it past the sword that had suddenly appeared between then. He nearly crashed into the bar to keep himself from running into it. The blade was very long, and gleamed, even in the dim light. Most likely it was magically sharp, and Wendell didn't want to find out. The tavern owner waved it at both of them, his little eyes dangerous.

"There's to be no fightin' in my House. D'you hear?"

Wendell barked once, sharply, and slapped his hand over his mouth. With as much dignity as he could gather, he lowered his hand and said, "Yes."

The other man spit on the ground, sneered, and turned back to his abandoned drink. Wendell growled and thought about spitting, too, but Melissa was tugging sharply on his cloak. "We should go," she hissed.

"Fine," he snapped. Chin raised, he began pushing his way back to the door, ignoring the whispered comments as he went. Once the three had gotten out, he shut the door, dulling the shock of the tavern's noise. They stood looking at each other a moment, all of them breathing hard. Melissa unhooked Sport from Teresa's chest and shoulder, and cradled the huge cat lovingly.

"I don't understand," he said, combing his hair back with his fingers. His forehead was distressingly sweaty. "Why doesn't anyone believe I'm the king?"

A young woman passing by, her arms loaded down with a small barrel of some foul drink, paused, looking him up and down. "That's easy," she said. Her dark eyes were bright with curiosity. "You shoulda picked a day when the king hadn't been seen on his trip."

"Trip?" Wendell grabbed the girl's shoulder as she started away, almost causing her to drop the barrel. She glared at him, but answered anyway.

"Aye. Just left this mornin'. Somethin' about visitin' Sir Tony. They declared it through all the blessed kingdom. Seems stupid to me. Why should I care where he goes? If he ever came here, most've these lads would want to wallop him for that wolf decree. Dumbest thing I ever heard." Even laden down she seemed particularly eager to vent her opinion, her voice high and quick. "He don't live near the border here with us. He don't have to lock himself inside at the full moon. Sure that wolf saved everyone, but it's just one wolf. They ain't like that one."

Wendell couldn't believe his people held that much distrust; and he couldn't imagine he had ever felt that way himself. "Are you quite finished?" he asked, struggling with his disgust.

The woman looked at him oddly. "Well, you asked. I'm goin' in now. Why don't you try again next month. You do sorta look like 'im." She winked and managed to open the door with a quick movement. The noise blasted them back a few steps before it shut, swallowing the girl up inside.

Melissa and Teresa were watching him expectantly. He rubbed his hand across his face, sighing.

"My advisors have done something that is generally very intelligent, but will cause us many problems now." He gestured for them to follow him. They would have to sleep on the road again tonight. He had no money and he was sure they wouldn't either.

"What did they do?"

"It's a precaution for the safety of the kingdom. If something unexpected happens to me, they say I went to Antony's castle for a vacation. It keeps invaders from knowing that I've disappeared, which is what happened last time. The immediate threat of trolls have been taken care of, but you can't be too careful."

Melissa caught up to him, settling her pace to meet his. "I can't believe you attacked that guy."

He glanced at her, not sure how to take that. "I thought he was going to hurt you."

"Oh." She looked away, her lips curved into a soft smile, and he felt his heart burning in his chest. After a silent minute she said, "Let's say you are a king. Why did you leave your castle?"

"I was only going to be gone for the day."

"That doesn't answer my question."

He eyed the ground, telling himself he was watching for cart tracks. "I know. It was foolish to leave at all. Irresponsible."

"Wendell." Her tone was gentle and he looked into her eyes. Understanding waited there for him, if he only spoke to her. The air buzzed with promise. Melissa put Sport down, and the cat meowed once, loudly, then darted off to the side of the road. Her hand brushed Wendell's, her fingers closing around his own. "Why did you leave?" she repeated, though he hardly heard her. Elf-all, how could he be this affected by her touch?

"I," he had to force the word out, "I felt trapped. Ever since I've been crowned, I haven't had a spare moment to myself. I've been studying and learning to be a king my entire life. I thought I would be prepared." He shifted his hand in hers until their fingers slipped between each other. He hoped his weren't as sweaty as he feared, and was relieved that she didn't pull away. "But I've also been having nightmares every night since I was turned human again. Lately it's just been a struggle to fall asleep. I was miserable, Melissa. I had to leave." He watched her for any sign of disgust or disappointment. "Though no one would understand."

But he saw in her eyes that she did, completely.

She never said anything else to him as they walked, hands linked, but he felt they were quietly sharing the best and worst part of themselves through a simple touch.

*What are you doing, you bloody fool?* He jerked his hand out of hers as his thoughts wandered to Melissa and their future. She stared at him, and in her eyes the warm light had blown out.

"I-I'm sorry," he stuttered, gesturing vaguely. "I need to...to find a place to sleep. Before it gets dark." She nodded silently and turned away from him, to Teresa.

Wendell left them and found a place that would serve as their spot that evening, his thoughts stuttering. The two women joined him, darting quiet glances his way. What had happened... the words he had almost said... it was too much to imagine.

"I'll go get us some food," he said, not expecting -- or getting -- a response.

He disappeared blindly into the bushes, leaving the women behind. Wendell knew that if last night had been difficult, tonight would be impossible.

It wasn't until the next afternoon that they arrived at the end of the tracks. Where yesterday's walk had been mostly talkative and quick, Melissa found this one tiring and uncomfortable. She spent most of it wondering why Wendell had reacted so strangely the night before.

She knew he was attracted to her. That was no longer in doubt. And she had to admit that as she'd gotten used to that initial arrogance and endless dirt, Wendell became a very attractive guy. He had brilliant, inquisitive eyes and a handsomely lean face.

But what impressed her most was the unexpected selflessness. From the simple act of finding them food, to the remarkable way he was helping them find the mirror, he had never complained. Melissa felt guilty knowing she would have, in his place.

It made her wonder if his 'king' stories were true.

He'd seemed so sincere last night, first distressed about not being recognized and then admitting how miserable he was. They'd connected in that moment, in a way that she couldn't shake. It clung to her like wispy cobwebs. It had been ... well ... magical. She knew he'd felt it by the shock reflected in his eyes.

So why had he pulled away?

The only answer she'd come up with said he was lying about being a king and didn't want to be found out. Whether he was a king or not didn't matter, but lying to her did.

Wendell had been just as quiet as she had today, although he occasionally chatted with Terry about some of the quirks of the Nine Kingdoms. But he avoided Melissa, without seeming to try. She had still listened unobtrusively, picking up interesting tidbits about this strange place. Accepting it as reality had been easier than she thought -- and much kinder on her nerves, which were currently busy enough.

At least Terry looked healthier than she had the previous two days. Even she hadn't been unaffected by the events, if her pale, sickly-looking skin was any indication. Today her eyes were bright, her cheeks were flushed, and the dazed air about her had disappeared entirely.

Wendell stopped them a couple hours after lunch and pointed to a building in the distance. Melissa picked up Sport, who'd been dutifully following her all day, sharing an excited glance with Terry.

"Will you two stay outside this time?" Wendell asked.

"No."

"Absolutely not," Melissa stated firmly.

"That is what I assumed. Come on, then. It's past time to get the mirror back." The last words were flat and dull, disappointing her. She'd hoped for some sign that he didn't want her to leave yet. Not that it would matter, of course. I have to go home.

They were too soon at the building, a fair-sized structure constructed of bricks. This place had a sign similar to the tavern, with a carved pig beneath the words 'House of Bricks.' There was something about all this that tickled Melissa's thoughts, hovering just out of reach.

Wendell pulled the door open, and they all winced, prepared for the same crash of noise as the last place. This one was quiet and as they peered in, they saw it was a general store, the shelves stocked full.

"Excellent," Wendell breathed, apparently more relieved than Melissa. She couldn't blame him after his near-death experience with that tall guy. It still struck her as heroic how he'd jumped in to protect her.

They stepped inside, shutting the door behind them and letting their eyes adjust to the dimmer light. There was only one small window here, and no lamp to support the feeble light it let in.

"Hello?" Wendell picked up a small carving, turning it over in his hands, and called out again when there was no answer the first time.

It was strange being in a house made entirely of bricks. Melissa felt like she was in a kiln. The wall behind the counter was covered with swords and shields, and had a small door in the middle.

After another moment, there were grunts and shuffling behind the door and then it opened. The figure came around the counter and squealed, "Hiya."

Melissa blinked, slowly.

"You're a pig," she blurted out.

The storeowner pinned her down with his beady eyes, and snuffled the air. It had the body of a normal human but the head of a human who, in her world, would have been surgically altered. The nose was a snout, the eyes were round and small and dark, and the whole shape of the head and ears was round and pig-like. It was frightening and fascinating, all at the same time. Melissa would have reached out to touch it -- him? -- if he hadn't been quite so far back. He was wearing a perfect little tailored suit.

"What do you want?" he asked. He seemed to squeal and grunt and still form words.

Wendell shot Melissa a terse frown and then slid into his charming smile as he faced the pig-man. "We're looking for a mirror, sir, that you traded for two days ago."

"A mirror? I don't recall that."

"I'm sure you would. You got it from the medusa."

"Oh that mirror." The trader snorted, literally, and shouted back through the open door: "PENNY! PEGGY! WHERE'S THAT BIG MIRROR WE JUST GOT?"

Melissa cringed, never having imagined a pig's squeal could be that piercing. Two more pig people popped through the door and came around the counter, grunting and oinking. It was astonishingly noisy. These two were wearing perfect little dresses.

"You don't have to shout, Petey," one of them pouted.

"Oh my God," Melissa whispered to Terry. "It's the Three Little Pigs, isn't it?"

The older woman nodded. "Penny, Peggy, and Petey, apparently."

Giggles bubbled up in her throat like a spring, and Melissa looked away from the pigs, staring around the room in desperation. She tried to listen to their conversation, knowing that their goal here was very serious, but every time one of the pigs oinked, she had to press her lips more tightly together, until her mouth started to go numb.

"What do you mean you don't have it?" Wendell was saying, his sharp words taking the edge off of her laughter.

The first pig, Petey, puffed up. "I mean just what I say! We don't have it anymore. Some thief stole it yesterday when we were out foraging."

An image of the three of them snuffling for truffles flashed mercilessly through Melissa's thoughts. She squeezed Sport so hard he yeowled.

Wendell was frowning at her again, but this time he kept that frown for Petey the pig, as well. "How can someone steal a mirror that size?"

"That's what I'd like to know!" he answered. "I don't know what's so special about this mirror anyway."

"It's actually quite important. It's a traveling mirror."

"A traveling mirror!" The pig's eyes managed to widen, then promptly narrow. "How do you know?"

"Because I'm King Wendell," he paused, and then added, "'s manservant."

Obviously he'd given up on trying to convince people he was a king, Melissa noted. For a moment it hurt to breathe, thinking of him lying to her.

One of the pig ladies stepped forward. "How'd King Wendell lose the traveling mirror? That's very irresponsible!"

"Very irresponsible," the other one, Peggy, Melissa guessed, agreed.

"It was an accident." She could see his whole body tense, and noticed the way his cheek twitched when he was upset.

Petey pondered this, then shook his head. "You don't have accidents with traveling mirrors, king or not."

"Look what he did with those wolves, though!" Penny piped in.

"Too true," Petey agreed.

"Shameful," Peggy mourned.

Wendell's cheek was like a living thing as he stared at the three pigs. "Shameful?" he asked, drawing the word out on a long, slow breath. Melissa watched, feeling almost drugged.

Penny nodded and leaned forward. "Very irresponsible. You don't pardon all wolves simply because one was different. And he was only a half-wolf, at that!"

"It's a disgrace. King Wendell doesn't have to live down here with us. He doesn't know wolves like we do. Why, my grandfather Paul was almost eaten by a wolf."

"I believe, I mean, King Wendell believes that wolves do not receive fair treatment. They are accused of all crimes, when they hardly commit any if properly supplied for."

"So now our hard-earned Wendells have to go to support those filthy wolves? You tell that king of yours that he best get his head out of his--"

"Petey!" Peggy cut in. She managed, Melissa had no idea how, to blush. "He's still a little bitter due to his parents losing their house to a wolf."

Wendell didn't look appeased. But then, neither did Petey.

"Still, I have to agree with Petey, Peggy," Penny added. "King Wendell doesn't have to be out here when it's a full moon and the woods are filled with all that howling. It's very frightening. I fear for the little ones." Melissa's mind supplied the image of a load of little piglets tottering around.

"They're ravenous beasts and they should all be killed!" Petey exploded.

"That'll do, pig," Wendell said, his voice low.

The words triggered a reaction in Melissa, and she started shaking, her body jerking with laughter she tried hard to hold in. Her vision grew blurry, and tears streamed down her cheeks, falling across her numb lips.

Everyone in the room stared at her with the worried eyes of those who feared someone nearby was dangerously unpredictable.

"I-I'm sorry," Melissa managed between breaths. She let go of Sport, who meowed pitifully and rubbed against Wendell's legs. "I-I need some air." Biting down hard on her lower lip to keep from laughing again, she hurried to the door, throwing it open and escaping into the sunlight. She took time to close the door behind her before doubling over and letting the laughs roll out of her.

It was madness and therapy, and she had every reason and no reason at all to be doing it. By the time the last, hiccuped breath had gone, Melissa was exhausted. She was sitting on the ground, her legs stretched out in front of her. To the side, Terry stood patiently, smiling.

"Feeling better?"

Melissa considered it, and took a deep breath to cleanse out the last vestiges of tension. "Much," she agreed.

"I haven't seen you laugh, really laugh, for years, Missy."

"Please, don't start that," she groaned, getting to her feet. "We're not going to get sentimental just because I happen to find the Three Little Pigs hysterically amusing." She smiled even as she said it. "I don't know what it was, but I think Wendell facing them down was a big part of it." Melissa eyed the closed door. "Wonder what they're doing in there."

"They were arguing when I left."

"How long have you been out here?"

"Long enough."

"God, Terry, where did you ever learn that Mona Lisa-enigmatic-stuff?"

Terry laughed then, and hugged Melissa tightly. "From you."

The door flew open and Wendell stomped out, followed by Sport, slamming it shut behind them again. "I just...I really just cannot believe -- of all the ignorant, pompous..." he growled, doglike. "Well, that did not go over as well as I had hoped."

"Pig problems?" Terry snickered at that, and Melissa cracked a smile at her own joke.

Wendell rolled his eyes skyward. "Really, Melissa, what was all that about?"

"I'm sorry." She held up her hands apologetically. "I know that really didn't help anything, but I couldn't control it. In my world those are the Three Little Pigs."

"They're the three little pigs here, too."

"Yes but..." she shook her head. "I don't think I could explain this one to you right now."

"Later then?"

"Of course." Melissa smiled at him, hoping to see his sparkling grin in return. "Do you forgive me?" She batted her eyelashes like one of the myriad characters she'd played.

Wendell responded with a flashing humor, his eyes lighting up. "Perhaps." He leaned in towards her, until their faces were inches away. "Why should I?"

She opened her mouth, the words, 'because you love me,' hanging on her lips and stopping there, frightened. Instead she shrugged, looking away from him. "Because I didn't mean any harm," she offered instead.

He must have felt the sudden shift as well, because he quickly straightened. "How could I refuse, then," he said, his voice rough. "Isn't that right, Teresa?"

Terry murmured something non-committal. Melissa could feel her steady gaze. "Where do we go now?" she asked, hoping to break the thick silence.

"I believe it's time we paid a visit to Antony."

"The guy from my world?"

"Yes." Wendell was all seriousness now. "He deserves to know that his only way home, his only way back to his daughter, was stolen. His castle is closer to us than my own, although it's farther north. Maybe we'll find a clue on the way. Princess Aileen's castle is that direction, she might have heard something as well."

Melissa shrugged, having no way of knowing where any of these places were. "Ok. We should get going then, we have a few hours before it's going to get dark."

"We'll need the time to get food, as well. I was going to get some here but..." he waved vaguely. "That obviously fell through. Are you ready, then?" Wendell looked first at Terry, then Melissa. She met his gaze, strangely pleased that their adventure here wasn't over yet. The mirror was more lost now than it had been, but she felt more relaxed and confident as well. Besides, didn't fairy tales always end in 'happily ever after'? They'd have to find the mirror, and then they'd go home. What was another day or two?

"I'm ready."

Grojavek patted the shrunken mirror in his pocket and squealed. He had it back! It had been hard -- he'd almost drowned, twice -- but he had it! He skipped along until the mirror started to grow heavy again.

"Stupid woman!" he squeaked. The dust She'd given him hardly worked at all. He'd be out of it long before he got the mirror back to Her. She'd probably planned it all along. Groj could see that now.

Groj could see a lot of things, now, with Muklavuk's help. The Great Imp was making him smarter and braver every day. He never would have stolen the mirror from those terrifying pigs without Muklavuk's help. And the Great Imp was going to help him get back at Her, too.

She thought Groj was stupid!

"Groj best Imp in all the Ten Kingdoms!" he shouted proudly. A big bird cawed angrily and he shrank behind a rock. Muklavuk only helped when it counted.

Suddenly the wind picked up, moaning and sighing around him, brushing against his skin and making him shiver. He started babbling, knowing it was Her, trying to call him, trying to get him. "You won't get me!" he squeaked. "You never get me!" The wind howled softly and wrapped itself around his legs, slowing him. "Nooooooo!" He couldn't afford to walk even slower!

"I have the mirror," he told Her. "You stupid woman, I have mirror!" Grojavek slapped both large hands over his tiny mouth, terrified at his own courage. That must be the Great Imp talking so boldly. She was not happy, if the low growling of the wind showed anything, but it eventually died and let his legs go. "I get you the mirror," he promised. The wind brushed past him, and then the forest grew silent.

Groj stopped where he was and listened.

There were no sounds. No breeze, no birds, not even any yummy squirrels. There was simply nothing at all. "Hello?" he whispered, afraid of the silence, just as afraid to break it.

As though he'd called them to life, all the birds shrieked at once. The sound was a storm, raining down on Groj with the leaves and feathers, pouring angry birdcalls. He shrieked with them and flew out of the forest as fast as he could. He had to get rid of this elf-all mirror! He knew She was going to kill him soon if he didn't.

And in the darkest corners of his mind, the Great Imp plotted.

Rena slammed her hand into the rock wall of her cavern, and screamed as the fragile flesh caught and ripped along the jagged edges. Blood smeared darkly down the stone, dripping from her hand to the floor. "By Triton's Spear," she hissed at the unexpected pain.

Pain was both a blessing and a curse in this new form.

The blood stopped quickly, the wound already starting to heal. But the regeneration would take some part of the souls she stored. She would need another soon, before her confrontation with Wendell. Assuming that idiotic imp ever found his way back to her. Kneeling, Rena drew her fingers through the small pool of blood, making a faint, ancient design on the ground.

She couldn't believe it when he had responded so brashly. Did he not know how insignificant he was to her? The only reason she left him alive now was because of time. The wind did not know where Wendell was, it only knew where he was not. Whatever the ignorant people of the land believed, King Wendell was not at his castle, and certainly not vacationing at that buffoon's castle, either.

The Four Heroes. Rena scoffed out loud, dragging her fingers through the blood again. Only two were really worth anything, the girl and the king. And the girl had already gone home, beyond her reach. She tasted the blood on her fingers. It was tangy with the taste of salt and minerals.

Wendell's blood would taste powerful. She could feel it on her lips already, imagined the energy of his soul.

I cannot wait, she thought. The revenge burned bright and deep, more than the souls could handle. She needed Wendell's strength soon. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to call on one more ally, in case the imp failed. The good half of Rena's face pulled itself into a smile.

First she needed to replenish her power.

She straightened and walked into the middle of the room, calling the wind back to her. It resisted at first, and then came, pouring into her outstretched arms, engulfing her. Her hair whipped against her cheeks, leaving small welts. When she was filled with the wind's force, she began shouting.

They were old words, words more of forgotten dreams than anything she'd really learned. She didn't know where they came from, and didn't question. The wind blew away and merged with the sea, pulling it up forcibly. The two elements spun together, growing and pounding and crashing their way towards shore.

Rena felt it when the first souls died.

It was the same every time. She waited for the wind and water to do their work, and then life coursed through her, speeding the beat of her sluggish heart. A little girl screamed in her mind, and then the soul was devoured into Rena's own essence. Another one, this time a woman, joined the first, followed by two more women. It was a rich harvest. The children always had so much more life.

The wind cut off sharply, and she collapsed to the ground. She felt like her insides were pushing at her skin, trying to spill out. These first minutes were torturously painful, but soon the pain would subside and she would have only the energy. The energy and the power.

When she could stand again, Rena started the task of calling her new ally.