Another story that I've posted on another site, under the name A. Kent, but couldn't seem to finish. And I really like it, so I want to finish it.

Chapter 1
Caught

I walked behind Ryan following the twisting, muddy path through the woods. He broke the pine branches that blocked the path, making it easier for me to follow along. My brother was a year younger than I was, but you couldn't tell that by looking at us. He was tall and well built, he looked like he was seventeen, and it was disturbing hearing the girls at our school talking about how dreamy he was. Whereas I was the tall, scrawny, sixteen year old brother, with short curly hair, who everyone thought was gay, and had lots of friends who were girls who liked me because I was safe and friendly.

“Ryan, how much further is it?” I asked, getting my hand covered in sap as I grabbed a thin tree trunk to step over a fallen log.

He pointed up the path which seemed to go up a hill at a 90 degree angle. “It's just up this hill, Anthony,” he said. “Believe me it's worth the climb.”

Wiping the sweat from my forehead I slowly followed him. Even in my shorts and t-shirt, with about a litre of bug spray, the august weather was hot. This had better be worth I thought, there was a nice deserted beach, with a cool breeze and a clean lake waiting for me back at Grandma and Grandpa's cottage. But Ryan had seemed so excited about some old carved stones he'd discovered, that I'd finally agreed to follow him. As the mosquito's swarmed us, despite the bug spray I was rapidly regretting my decision.

I fell twice going up the hill, coating my hands and legs in the the black mud of northwestern Ontario. Combined with the pine sap already covering me, I was going to kill my brother slowly and painfully if this wasn't the most amazing thing in the world. He was already halfway down the ridge on the other side when I made it to the top. He waved at me and pointed at a ring of granite boulders in the center of a clearing. It looked odd.

By the time I made it down the ridge, I was ready to sit down and take a break. Taking a drink from my almost empty water bottle, I staggered over to Ryan and his rocks. I had to admit they did look cool.

The clearing was surrounded by tree's, you could only really see the rocks from the very top of the ridge, or by standing right on top of them. Emerald green moss covered the ground, it looked so pretty I didn't want to step on it, but the red granite boulders caught my attention. Each one was placed about two meters apart from its neighbour in a circle that would fit a good size house. The boulders were almost perfectly smoothed, none of the bumps and cracks you usually see on boulders. Each boulder had holes on the inner side.

I needed to get a better look. I gingerly stepped on the moss, it was like stepping on snow, my foot went into it all the way to my knee. Thick roots bounced under my weight like a net, If I wasn't careful it was easy to slip off the roots and break a leg on old stumps and rocks hidden under the pile of moss.

“See! I told you you'd want to see this,” Ryan said looking at the nearest rock.

Grabbed his arm to keep my balance, I leaned in for a better look. The granite had been carved. There were stick figures with bows and arrows, above them was something that looked like a monster. Big teeth, an enormous face, and a body made of clouds. A hand span below those carvings was a crooked line with eyes, little stick figures were lying beneath it. A shiver ran down my spine.

“Those aren't the coolest part, listen to the hole,” he said.

I held my breath and put my ear close to the hole. A cold breeze froze my ear, it was like standing near a drafty window in a blizzard. Looking in there was only a small circular hole that went in maybe a foot or two. “How is that possible?”

He shrugged. “No idea. But get down here and feel this one.”

I touched the hole he was pointing at, it was about knee height. Instantly I pulled my fingers back with a yelp, it was burning hot. “What is this thing?” I asked.

“They're all like this, every hole does something different,” he said grinning. “That one over there on the little rock sounds like water. The biggest one, with the ten holes makes a different animal sound whenever you get close. It's awesome!”

Looking around the stones, I didn't think it was so awesome. They seemed to be watching me. The sky darkened a little as the last of the rain clouds from yesterday moved across the sun. “Come on Ryan, lets get home. We can call up some scientists or something and you'll get your face on the news as the discoverer.”

“Stop being a chicken, Anthony. This is too cool, lets look around a little bit and take some pictures.” He pulled out his camera and started taking pictures.

At that moment I really wished my phone worked this far out in the woods. The wind rustled through the branches of the trees, and the grass rustled strangely. It was just my imagination, I told myself. I'd never been afraid of the woods before, it was just the really freaky stones making me nervous. Hoof beats echoed in the distance.

That wasn't right. There weren't any horses for at least 100km's, and none of them would be this far in the woods. The rocks, roots, mud and pine tree's made riding a horse on anything except an actual road practically impossible. “Ryan did you hear that?” I asked, putting my back to the stone.

“Hear what?” he asked, busy tracing out a carving on another rock. “This looks a lot like Native American art. Maybe this was some kind of ceremonial spot. I wonder how old it is?”

Normally I'd have been fascinated by it. But everything about the spot was screaming danger at me. The cold wind from the rock was getting stronger, freezing the sweat on my skin. The bottom of the rock seemed to glow from heat, I smelled smoke. I turned to Ryan and jumped in shock, he was there but he was a little boy. He looked exactly like he had when he was five years old.

“R-Ryan?”

The sun blinked.

“Anthony, what happened to you?” he asked in an old mans voice. I tried to scream as I saw the hunched and wrinkled man standing where my brother had stood seconds before, only an ancient haggard cough escaped my lips. My throat felt as dry as dust. Covering my mouth, I saw my hands were thin and bony, paper thin skin was stretched over them ready to crack and peel if stretched too far.

Wolves howled in the moonlight. Ryan was normal again, as was my hand. “RUN!” I yelled at Ryan.

We raced up the path. I had a head start but Ryan quickly blasted past me, running confidently over the muddy ground. Tree's cracked around us, branches that hadn't been there on the way down slapped at my face, leaving itchy sap in my hair, tangling my clothes, scratching my arms. Rain poured down from the clear sky, making the already slippery path impossible to run quickly on.

A horn blew off in the distance. The hoof beats I'd heard earlier were quickly coming closer. Red eyes watched me from the thick bushes on either side. As I clambered up the last few feet to the top of the ridge, I looked back and saw a raging blizzard, shadows moved within it, some seemed to be running, others shadows soared on the wind. Hawks screeched over the howling winds.

Ignoring my tired muscles and the fear that made me want to curl up and scream I ran as fast as I could, not daring to look back again. I could hear them they were laughing far off in the distance, bells jingled ahead of me, hooves stamped the ground on either side, I felt hot breath on my neck. The sounds made no sense. I heard a horn blow right beside my ear, almost making me fall, yet as I looked to my side there was nothing but tree's.

And my stupid brother, who was a member of the track team, who'd dragged me into the woods in the first place was disappearing into the distance on his long legs. Stupid, stupid jerk.

Dogs started barking and growling, nipping at my heels. I tried to run faster, my breath was ragged, I was slowing down despite my best efforts. Even with my long legs I'd always been the slowest in gym class, and that was going to get me killed.

I never saw the rock that sent me tumbling to the ground.

What I did see was the muddy path coming up to meet my face. The flash of a horses hoof shining like the full moon on a clear night. Ivory white fangs dripping with saliva inches from my face. A face as beautiful as an angels with smiling blood red lips. The hem of a dress, as blue as the sea, waves of golden light singing and dancing with every step the wearer took. I saw all of that and more, as the fall took an eternity. My outstretched hands aged and wrinkled, turning to dust before my eyes.

The rain that had fallen the day before turning the dirt to mud rose up, the thousands of drops of rain reformed, first muddy black, then clean and clear, rising up into the sky to form clouds once again, leaving the ground it's usual loamy dark black of the northern forest. A young black bear walked backwards ahead of me, It's large head looked at me curiously and it began running in fear, jerky, unsteady, flickering in and out of existence. A pine cone caught fire, burning brightly, popping open from the heat, a green sapling rose in it's place, growing in the time it took me to hit the ground into a tree that touched the sky.

I fell, sliding through the mud, painfully scrapping over hidden rocks and sticks, strong thread like roots of pine trees caught in my outstretched fingers, snapping under my momentum but leaving painful welts on my hands. A net flew from the tree's covering me. I screamed, trying to throw it off. The silk like silver strands wrapped around my hands and arms, tightening like a snake with every movement. Constricting my legs, encircling my body. Before I realized it, I couldn't move, I could barely breath.

Men and women circled me. They wore jeans and cowboy shirts, silver armour that looked straight from LoTR, animal skins, and khaki’s. I saw their faces and closed my eyes. They weren't human. Some had skin like tree bark, cracked, rough and thick, the grey colour of the pine trees that surrounded us. Others had bird beaks, or insect eyes. A few looked almost human, but their eyes were too big, the mouths too small.

I would have pinched myself if I could have. This had to be a bad dream, there was no way this could be real. Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream.

I kept telling myself that, as they lifted me off the ground, tying the net closed with what felt like ropes of ice. I felt myself being draped over an animal, it's hair seemed more like grass, but it smelled and moved like a horse.

My eyes never opened, I couldn't open them for all the money in the world at that point. Even as the animal began to move, and the creatures around me congratulated themselves, I couldn't open my eyes. It was just a dream. It had to be a dream.

**

I don't know how long we walked, time seemed to stretch. One minute I'd be hungry wanting lunch, then it would seem like I hadn't eaten in years, my stomach cramping and growling like the dogs I couldn't see. The next second I'd feel tired and bloated as if I'd just eaten six bowls of maple ice cream. My eyes still wouldn't open, but sometimes the light would be blinding burning my eyeballs even with them closed. Just as quickly it would be blacker than the windowless basement of my parents home at night with the lights out.

Birds I'd never heard before chirped happily, and owls hooting. Wolves howled, while partridge beat their wings. The sun warmed my back, and a cool night breeze froze my spine. Rain fell on my feet, the sun beat on my head.

Tears rolled down my face. What was going on?

Finally, the horse stopped and someone grabbed me. They didn't take me out of the net though, and I was immediately put on a broad shoulder like a sack. It didn't feel right though. It was hard, not muscle hard, it was rock hard, with sharp edges, bumps and ridges. I opened my eyes, but that didn't help, I just saw something red and dark grey, like the granite rocks along the highway. It flexed and moved with each step. I tried to turn my head, but the silver ropes kept me trapped, I wondered if this was what a bug felt like just before being eaten by a spider.

There was music ahead of us. It sounded like a fiddle. I'd heard something like it before, my parents listened to Celtic music every time we drove more than a few minutes. It sounded something like that, but there were echoes and different sounds I couldn't place. It got into my head and danced around causing me to shake, seeing colours that weren't there, tasting things that I could only vaguely remember a second later.

Where was I?

We came to a stop, and I was put on a floor of liquid silver. It wasn't hot, and it wasn't wet, but ripples formed under me. I lifted my face from the cool surface, drops of silver fell from my face, dripping back onto the floor, becoming smooth once more. The net flowed into the floor, I jumped to my feet, but the thing that had been carrying me slammed me back to the ground. It's thick, blunt fingers rubbed my skin raw, there was strength behind it, it seemed like it could crush my skull as easily as I could break an egg. My face touched the silver, it entered my nose, oozing into my sinuses, down my throat.

I choked, coughing screaming, desperately trying to breath, my hand hit the creatures leg it was cold and as effective as hitting a rock. The massive hand holding my head still lifted slightly. I threw up the silver liquid, snot and tears ran freely, absorbed by the floor. A rumbling voice, what you would get if you banged a bag full of rocks together whispered in my ear, “Silence. Show respect for the lord and lady, or I'll crush your skull like a grape.”

I tried to stop crying, I was still choking, trying to clear my throat, but I was as quiet as I could be. I didn't dare look around, closing my eyes again, I prayed that this would end soon, that it would just be some horrible dream.

“Welcome back my hunters,” a booming voice said. “What prizes have you brought for my queen? A bird perhaps. Might it be another vicious bear or a lumbering moose, maybe yet more wolves?”

Ripples appeared near my face, the blue hemmed dress I had seen earlier was just visible, the golden lights were muted and still. “My liege, we have a most wondrous gift for you. A human child,” a woman's voice said. She sounded like a bird singing, long whistling vowels, hard chirped consonants.

There were gasps all around the room. Rustling and jostling sounds filled my ears, voices spoke in a strange language, from the tones it sounded like cursing. Something in me wanted, needed to look around, yet another part held me paralyzed with fear. It really didn't matter anyways, the stone like hand held me firmly in place.

“You speak truly?” a woman's voice whispered in the wind, the voice surrounded me I could hear it not only in my ears but my bones. It felt cold, like a winter breeze just before a blizzard.

The woman spoke again in her strange voice. “My liege, my lady, I would not speak untruths to you. Magdi, present our prize to our lord and lady.”

My neck strained as I was lifted by my head. Before I could shout in pain I was placed on my feet. The hand didn't go away. Instead it bent my head slightly so I had to strain my eyes to see who the lord and lady were.

The man looked almost normal. He had darkly tanned skin and long straight black hair, like a Native American. He wore a golden fur robe which covered everything except his hands and face, a silvery bow rested on his seat, which looked to be a living tree covered in moss and brilliant green leaves. He was cleaning his long, almost claw like nails with a black stone knife. His eyes were pure black, I couldn't tell if he actually had eyes that were black or if they were empty sockets leading to a the depths of space. They looked at me and my soul shivered.

The lady was less human than he was. She was wearing a long black dress, which looked like something you'd in movies for parties and things. It covered her pale blue skin, and was covered in glittering frost. Her eyes were enormous, as if a cartoon girl had come to life, they were a beautiful sky blue, yet white misty clouds swirled in them disappearing at times and then coming back leaving the entire eye a milky white. Her icy white hair blew in a breeze I couldn't feel, tinkling like a wind chime with each tiny movement. She was beautiful, but as horrifying as the man.

“My, my, my, you have done well Calandri,” the man said with smile, revealing sharp dagger like teeth. “Now the only question is what shall we do with this human? My love do you have a suggestion?”

The blue lady stood up from her simple chair of clear ice and blinding white snow, and walked towards me, every step she took turned the floor to ice, which quickly melted once more into the liquid silver. She touched my chin, it felt like metal during the middle of winter when the temperature reached minus 40 Celsius. My teeth began rattling at her touch, my eyes seemed to freeze in their sockets.

“Let us see if the human can dance,” she said in her windy voice.

There was a cheer and wild applause from the things surrounding the room. The stone creature, Magdi let go of my head, as the fiddle music started again. I looked around trying to get rid of the pain in my neck. The things weren't human. Like the faces of the hunters who had caught me they had the bodies of humans, but they were all the colours of the rainbow. Some of them looked like they'd once been tree's or bushes, with leaves and moss for hair and limbs that were solid wood or thorn covered vines. Others looked like golems, dropping bits of sand and mud when they clapped or they were rock like like Madgi, clapping in slow, powerful movements as unstoppable as an avalanche. There were half human cat girls, and people with the skin of bears, or antlers like a deer.

I started to cry.

Calandri, The lady in blue with the golden lights came over to me, her red face was furious, her fiery red hair crackled like a bonfire. “Do not embarrass me human, you must dance or I swear you will suffer horribly.”

I couldn't form the words to tell her I couldn't dance. In gym class when we had to practice dancing I could never remember the steps. Whenever my friends tried the dance moves they saw on tv, I just sat back and clapped, because I had two left feet. The thought of dancing in public, especially for these creatures, the thought was so terrifying I wanted to wet my pants.

The fiddle music faltered and their was an angry rumbling from the audience. I stood their tears pouring down my face, staring at my muddy shoes, wishing that the nightmare would end. This couldn't be real, there was no way this was real. It just had to end sometime.

“Calandri, your gift doesn't seem very talented,” the lord said, his fingers tapping his throne with a loud click.

The red woman bowed low, “I am sorry my liege, she is young and untrained. I'm sure some time under the lash will train her properly.”

A wooden face man wearing a suit of white bark with moss for hair, stepped forward. “If I may my liege, this creature is hardly made to dance. It is too bony, too awkward, too tall, too male. The females dance better. It simply needs to be molded properly before it can learn to dance under the Lady Calandri's tutelage. I humbly request the chance to improve her.

My eyes went wide, what were they talking about? How could they improve me?

The ice lady clapped her hands in delight, making her hair jangle musically. “A fine idea Jasper. Please begin at once, and Calandri you may teach your new toy to dance properly. We expect to see great things soon. You may depart with our blessings.”

Calandri grabbed my arm her touch almost hot enough to burn, and dragged me painfully from the room. Jasper followed, smiling happily. I struggled to stay on my feet, sobbing in fear as they led me away.

**

I was led through twisting halls that made no sense. We would be walking across a floor of ice, turn a corner where red flames formed the walls and find ourselves twisting in the air to walk on a ceiling of smoke, yet it always seemed that we were on a normal level.

There were other creatures wandering the halls, tiny flower like creatures flew on butterfly wings tending vines that formed hallways and grew crystal windows looking out to dancing stars, frozen fires, coral reefs and more. Bobbing globes of light, so beautiful with their swirling patterns that I needed to follow them and only the iron grip of Calandri kept me moving forward, flew purposefully down the hallways. Scaly creatures with fish tails and disgusting, bloated hags sat in rivers of breathtaking beauty, and small stagnant pools of slimy water.

The sheer strange beauty of it all was enough to make me forget my terror. That is until we reached a crystal room with a single table of glass in the center. Calandri picked me up as easily as a baby and placed me roughly on the table. I tried to get up but my skin and hair were stuck, I felt like I was fly on a strip of flypaper.

Jasper looked at me and the table tilted until I was almost standing. I saw my reflection in a blue crystal. I could see myself perfectly, my skin was peeling from a sunburn I'd gotten three days ago at the beach. My blue eyes were red and bloodshot from all the crying I'd been doing, and my large nose was covered in snot.

“This won't do, won't do at all,” Jasper said looking at me and shaking his head. He waved his freakishly long fingers, my shorts, underwear, and t-shirt began unravelling like a cartoon sweater leaving me cold and naked.

I started yelling for help.

Calandri walked up beside me. “Shut up, or else.”

I didn't shut up, I actually began yelling even louder. Frowning the red woman whispered something under her breath, her too warm fingers grabbed my throat and squeezed. I felt my throat shrink almost like it was play-doh, my scream became quieter, fainter, and finally stopped. I could see myself screaming in the crystal, but I was utterly silent.

Jasper bowed to Calandri, “Thank you that was getting quite irritating. Now for our dancer, how should she look?”

They both looked me over, poking and prodding me, making mental notes as they went. Finally Calandri spoke. “I think it will be best as an acrobat. It is so small, to make it into a buxom dancer would require more material and that would be troublesome.”

What did they mean by more material? My heart was beating a mile a minute, I could see my muscles straining against whatever was holding me but I couldn't budge. I bit my tongue hard enough to draw blood hoping to wake myself up, but nothing happened.

The wooden man nodded in agreement. “I believe that would be best. May I begin?”

Calandri stepped aside, and Jasper began rubbing his hands along my body. His rough skin made me itch, it felt as if a mouse was running across my body, strangely wherever his hands touched the muscles and bones turned to jelly. I could actually see my reflection becoming floppy, loose, like plastic doll being melted over a fire. I wanted to scream, I wanted to run and hide, I wanted to wake up. But as he ran his hands over my face I could barely even close my eyes. My face drooped, becoming melted wax.

Within minutes my body was useless, flabby, boneless. Then Jasper was able to begin his work.

He pressed his fingers into my flesh as if I were clay. He kneaded my long arms, shortening them, turning bone into muscle, shaping the muscle defining it making it more graceful. Bony fingers were flexed and molded, strengthened, with long rounded nails. The skin was smoothed out, his nails scraped away the faint arm hair. His breath was warm on my arms, where he breathed lightened in colour, removing my sunburn and freckles. I could feel the tip of his nose just brushing my skin.

My legs went the same way. My skinny shapeless thighs shrank, the meat and bone filled out my loose skin. My shins were made elegant, with well defined muscles, my oversized feet became small, dainty things. Jasper actually pulled the unneeded flesh from my feet and placed it near my head, a small pile of quivering, excess flesh, waiting to be used elsewhere. Once more I felt his breath on me, removing my hair, clearing up my skin.

His hands pressed down on my shoulders, I felt my body becoming shorter, more compact. Skin, muscle and bone formed a large lump on my stomach. Massaging the fat and meat he moved some of it to my hips. I could feel bone forming beneath my skin. My hips became larger, not much larger, but I now had hips that my girlfriends would admire. Somehow his hands went through the table, and he molded the muscles in my butt along with some more fat from my stomach into a rounded shape, taut with muscle and just a thin layer of fat to create a gentle curve.

His hands smoothed out my stomach, turning the pile of flesh into hard compact muscle, It was barely noticeable but I now had a six pack. His hands moved up my body, rubbing my ribs and shoulders, he gradually shrank them making them more harder yet frail looking. I could tell the bones while smaller were far more dense and stronger then before. He grabbed a small handful of the jiggling pile of flesh from my feet, pushing it through my skin onto my ribs. Poking and prodding it, I felt the bones expanding, and the muscles built up.

He touched my chest, and while the shock of it all had left me paralyzed and speechless, I tried to scream. I tried to scream so hard I thought my throat would tear. Taking the last of the flesh from my feet the monster forced it under my skin, massaging me, making my flat chest larger, raising it up like dough. My skin stuck to his hands briefly as he finally stopped touching me, it fell away with a sick sucking sound.

“Do we want it to speak?” Jasper asked, wiping tree sap from his brow.

Calandri stroked my short, curly brown hair for a minute deep in thought. “Yes, we may want it to sing.”

Long fingers caressed my throat, it became longer, almost inhumanly long, the bones and tendons stretched. My throat expanded again, but only a little, I opened my mouth and tried to speak, a high pitched squeak came out, but I couldn't seem to form any words, or even really scream.

When he touched my face, I shut my eyes, I couldn't bear to see what was happening. His fingers moved around my face, making my features smaller, more curved, more like a girl. I felt him stretching my eyes, squeezing my skull to make it more rounded. Then he pulled my hair, it didn't hurt, it just kept getting longer and longer. I could feel it brushing against my new breasts. His cold breathe smelling like pine needles filled my nostrils, I could feel the dampness of his breath, My new voice screamed and whimpered.

“That is most excellent," Calandri said, but then her eerie gaze strayed lower, her lip curling back in distaste. "But what about that... thing between his legs. We can't have that, it breaks up her curves and it will most likely get in the way.”

“I was thinking we could keep it as an extra feature for when it performs,” Jasper said.

“No get rid of it,” Calandri insisted.

I felt his hands touch me, and it was too much, I fainted.

Chapter 2
Sam

I came to in a normal looking room. That's not to say it was boring, the walls were stained wood specially planned so the wood grain formed pictures of faces, places and animals, something that would have to cost a fortune if it was done in the regular world. The bed I was in had, what I assumed were red silk sheets the same colour as Calandri's skin, they were so sleek I'd never felt anything like them before. The bed was better, it was the softest most comfortable I'd ever been in, it was almost like lying on warm air. I couldn't tell where the light was coming from, it just was.

But I didn't notice those things at first, that all came to me later.

The first thing I noticed was my body. When they were changing me, molding me into their play thing, I was in shock. My mind could only watch most of my body being changed like it was a movie. Until they touched my face they weren't doing it to me, they were doing it to someone on tv who just happened to look like me. Now, I could look down at my body. I could feel the changes, I could run my hands over my chest and feel the perfectly formed breasts. Now it was real.

I focused on my hands. My dad had said I had boxer's hands, they were big with thick knuckles, and short, blunt fingers that never seemed to match my body. Now they were anything but. My new thumb was about as big around as my old pinky finger, each finger was about an inch longer, almost pointed at the tip, with long perfectly rounded nails. My old nails were always bitten down to the quick. Flexing them, it seemed as if they were double jointed, I could touch my wrist with no problem and bend them backwards almost 90 degrees without any help or discomfort.

Sitting up, I saw I was wearing a skintight nightgown of the same material and colour as the sheets, the colour made my pale skin seem dead in comparison. I plucked at it uncomfortable, only used to having my socks and underwear clinging so closely to my body. Unconsciously giving my mind time to comprehend everything, I pulled and fidgeted in the nightgown for at least ten minutes, trying to make it comfortable, until I finally gave it up in disgust.

Rolling up the sleeves, I saw my arms were totally hairless, without the hair, little moles and freckles I used to have on them. Even the tiny birthmark that was suppose to be right above my armpit was gone. Rubbing my legs together they felt just as smooth. I stood up, needing to see just how much my body had changed even as my mind recoiled, remembering the feeling of being molded, the inhuman hands massaging my skin and muscle. The first thing I noticed was I had curves. They weren't enormous, but a very distant part of my mind, the part that still believed this was all a dream said that I looked better than every girl in my school.

As if they had a mind of their own, my hands went to the breasts that were hanging from my chest. They felt odd. I'd touched a girls breasts before, but only through a t-shirt and bra, these only had some thin fabric protecting them, and I felt my fingers artlessly drawing circles around the mounds, going towards the nipples that were almost poking through the fabric.

“Ahem, are you some kind of pervert?” a guy asked me.

My face turned red, as I realized that a guy who looked like he was sixteen with enough muscles to join the NFL, was staring at me as I was rubbing my body in a slinky nightgown. With a yelp I jumped back into the bed and covered myself with the blanket. “I-I...” I didn't have a clue what to say, and the high pitched squeaky voice I had, surprised me almost as much as the other changes.

“Have some decency girl and get some clothes on, please. We have work to do,” he said rolling his dark eyes.

“I'm not a girl!” I shouted, ignoring the obvious.

He sighed, which made his broad shoulders look even bigger, he could have broken me like a twig. “Ugh, another one. That's going to make my life so much easier. What's your name kid? You can call me Sam.”

“Where am I?” I asked.

His voice became deeper, harsher, “You're in hell, also known as the Bitter Wind Steading. Now what's your name kid? You can call me Sam.”

“Anthony, Anthony Burke. What are you doing here?” I squeaked.

Sam went to the wardrobe and started looking through it, I could just make out a lot of brightly coloured clothes, which seemed even more vivid against Sams' black skin. “I'm your guide. None of the Fair Folk wants to deal with teaching humans the basics of society, so they leave it us slaves to deal with the nitty gritty details.”

“Fair folk?”

“The ones who kidnapped you, bought you or tricked you into coming here. Fae is another name for them, if you want to get beaten you can call them elves. Ever since popular culture has made the elf into happy little children or tree loving primitives, they've hated that name,” he explained.

“I didn't think they were real. Why haven't the police or the military caught them if they go around kidnapping people?” I asked.

Sam snorted. “They're as real as your tits. And most people think they aren't real because for a few hundred years they had to stay out of sight. They hate iron, it's like poison to them, and for a long while everyone had iron, iron nails, iron tools, iron horse shoes, iron engines, iron everywhere. But over the last little while, there's been less and less iron, there's steel but it's not the same as human forged iron, it just annoys them. So they've been coming back, taking people where they wouldn't be missed.” His voice got quieter, “Street kids, people in refugee camps, people lost in the woods, those that wouldn't be missed or could be explained away.”

He turned back to the closet pulling out a brilliant red, knee length skirt and a matching leotard. “Here you go, you'll probably be most comfortable in these. Underwear is in the drawer beside your bed.”

My nose curled up automatically at the colours and the very tight leotard. I wouldn't be caught dead in something like that.

“You've got to wear something, and believe me when I say that everything else in here looks worse,” he said, a little sympathetically.

I hugged the blanket around myself, I'd seen what they did to my body I didn't want to think about what they might do if they got angry. “Aren't their any pants or something not so tight?”

“Nope, just dresses, skirts, and some costumes which are more revealing than you want to risk,” Sam said. “Honestly I picked out the only outfit you'll probably find comfortable, unless you like clothes that look like they're painted on.

“Do you mind if I take a look?” I asked.

He headed for the door. “Feel free, but I need you out here ready to go in ten minutes, so be quick and don't get obsessed with finding the perfect look. Until you're supposed to dance the fae don't care, and neither do the few humans here.”

The door closed, and I was left to myself. Walking felt a little strange, I wasn't used to having such wide hips, and my body didn't seem to move properly. Everything seemed looser, more bendy, and the tight gown made me have to take baby steps. Not fun. I stretched my arms, watching how the strange limbs moved so gracefully through the air, there was no way these could be mine.

I notices as I walked that my boobs didn't bounce like I thought they would, I felt them jiggling a tiny bit but when I looked down they just sort of sat there. Looking around nervously I started skipping, that got them bouncing.

There was a hard knock on the door. “Time is money! Stop playing with yourself and get dressed.”

How the heck did he know what I was doing? Trying not to blush again, I took a quick look at the wardrobe and as Sam had said the only clothes to be seen were skin tight leaving nothing to the imagination, too short, half see through, or had idiotic flames, flowers or animal pictures on them. With a sigh I grabbed some underwear from the drawer and put everything on. I hated how the leotard clung to my skin, I had never worn anything this tight before.

There was an assortment of shoes next to the door. They were all soft soled and looked like slippers. Slipping on a red pair I stepped outside, with no idea what was going to happen, but grateful that I was apparently going to be kept too busy to think about what was happening.

As I left my room I entered the end of a hallway that looked like it could belong in a nice hotel, blue carpet, ugly peach wall paper, a line of doorways that seemed far too close together. My room was huge, but the the next door was only a foot or two away. There was no way they could be there, I'd have to see the second door just beside the first one. How did they do that?

I looked at my door again as Sam impatiently tapped his foot. In the middle of the door was a girls face done up in bronze, her eyes were a little too large, more like a realistic anime girl, her cheeks were on the chubby side, with a sharp chin, and almost pointed ears, I'd say she looked a little catlike, but my grandma would say she looked like a pixie. It was so well done I had to touch it, my finger brushed its nose. I screamed and jumped back about five feet, my back hitting the wall painfully. Sam burst out laughing, doubling over and slapping his knee.

“WHAT THE HELL!” I shouted.

It took him a minute to catch his breath. “Sorry that never gets old. That face is you. It marks the room as yours' and will keep any unwanted humans out of it, along with any really unimportant fae.”

I looked at it again, touching my face, feeling out the new bumps and features, it seemed similar at least to the bronze face. My hand shook as I gently touched the bronze. Running my fingers over the ears, I felt a hand touching my ear, touching the metal eye made me close my own eye, it didn't hurt just annoying. “How?”

“Magic,” Sam said simply. “Everything here is magic, and just when you think you have something understood, it will change again. Get used to it or you'll go mad. You hungry?”

I backed away from the freaky face, and suddenly realized that every door had a similar bronze face. It seemed like they were all watching me. I leaned into Sam, he seemed nice and stable. Taking a deep breath I focused on him, ignoring the strange body, just deal with the moment. “Yeah I'm hungry, where do we eat?”

“Come on and don't step on my feet, I'll show you the cafeteria,” the teenager said walking away with his long stride, forcing me to almost run to keep up.

I counted about twenty doors, each one within two or three feet of it's neighbour. Where these for people like Sam and I? Was it just twenty humans against the fae? I wondered if I was the youngest, if I was the only one who'd had his body taken from him. Had anyone escaped before? I needed to know more, but I didn't even really know what I had to ask.

The doors were all on the left wall, and we turned left at the end of the hall. Immediately we were in a sunlit field. Large blue mushrooms the size of footstools with flat tops littered the field. Bushes and trees surrounded the field, woven so tightly together it looked like a wall. There were a few people sitting around the field, eating alone. They looked human at least, but they were exaggerated, like my thin, flexible body, or Sam's massive bulk.

One blonde haired woman was at least seven feet tall, as thin as I was and when she moved it seemed like she was dancing or the flapping of a butterfly's wing. A man looked at us with eyes that were too big, his body shrunken, yet with fingers that were grotesquely long. A person, I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman had skin that looked tattooed with every colour of the rainbow and every colour in between, its' skin shimmered as it took dainty bites of a leaf.

Sam ripped off a large leaf from a tree by the entrance, and began pulling berries, fruits, leaves and even twigs from the bushes. I copied him, the large leaf was fairly solid, and with just a touch it came off in my hand. The same thing happened when I plucked anything from the bushes. As I went along I noticed that the bushes each gave off it's own smell. The one with thick leaves smelled like grapes, when I plucked a twig from a small tree the smell of pork filled the air. Green berries made my eyes water like I'd been cutting a jalapeno peppers. A coconut like nut smelled like fresh cream.

With the leaf overflowing with food I sat on a mushroom beside Sam and used another mushroom as a table. He bit into a twig and smiled. “If you close your eyes, this almost seems like you're eating a hotdog.”

I picked the grey, warty twig up from my own plate, closed my eyes and bit. It was moist and soft, there was a vague taste of meat, but I couldn't tell how he thought that it was a hotdog. I swallowed it and put the twig down. “How long have you been here, Sam?”

He glared at me as if I'd asked something wrong. “Don't ask that question. Most people here don't want to remember, it's easier if you just forget.”

I lowered my eyes, brushing my long black hair out of my eyes. That wasn't something I'd ever had to do before, no wonder girls always had things in their hair. “I'm sorry, I didn't know,” I said quietly.

“No worries, I don't mind. I'm not most people,” he said slowly and softly looking away from me.. “What year was it when you got captured?”

Wow, I thought, he'd been here long enough to forget when he was kidnapped, that didn't fill me with confidence. “2014,” I said.

“I was lied to and brought here in 1978,” Sam said.

“But you only look sixteen! How's that possible?” I blurted out.

He finished his twig before answering. “You saw what they did with your body. They can do anything they want in their land, make you older than dust or as young as when you were in your mothers belly. But they didn't change my age. I am sixteen. What they did was change time. To me, it's been one year since I was offered a a chance to be rich, famous, and loved, at the time I was working my fingers to the bone to survive and didn't have much of a future except more work, it seemed like a good deal.”

I really had no idea what to say, I couldn't understand how that was possible, how any of this was possible. It was like Alice in Wonderland on drugs. I started to eat the leaves and berries, each one tasted a little like a food from home, but they weren't the same, the texture, the smell, the taste, there was always something off about them.

“So this is the little dancing queen, is it?” a woman said. I felt long bony fingers encircle my head, long nails picked at my skin.

“Hey!” I shouted, trying to stand, but the fingers were like iron.

The blonde woman I'd seen earlier sat down beside me. “Hmm, you're a tiny one. Eyes are too large, cheeks too big. Your breasts are too large too. They'll get in the way when you dance. Tell me girl do you know how to pirouette, do you know the Troika, how to do the grand adage?”

I tried to shake my head, my eyes unable to leave her thin, bitter face or her tiny blue eyes. “I-I-I can't dance.”

She burst out laughing, it was wild, loud, harsh, like a flock of crows cawing all at once. She finally let go of my head, leaning back slightly, her long arms touched the ground holding her up. I wanted to leave, I wanted to run away screaming, but Sam put his hand on my knee forcing me to stay. Finally she stopped laughing, wiping her streaming eyes on the billowy sleeve of her shirt she smiled like she was sad for me. “Well I can see I don't have to worry about any competition from you. It's going to be fun seeing them try to train you. I hope for your sake you're a fast learner.”

“That's enough Paula. You've had your fun now leave Anthony alone,” Sam said standing up.

She smirked, “Anthony is it? Oh this truly is rich. Well they say birds of a feather. Still Anthony won't do, you need balls to be an Anthony. I know, you're so small I think I'll call you Ant.”

Sam growled, his hands turning into gigantic fists that seemed as big as my head. “I said leave her alone.”

She stood up, stepping over my head. “I do have things to do, good bye girls.”

Sam sat back down, picking up his plate again. I tried to fix my hair, it was back in my eyes thanks to Paula, it helped to take my mind off my anger. Finally I was calm enough to talk again. “Sam what did the witch mean calling us girls?”

He sighed, a dark look coming over his face. “My old name was Alexandria.”

Blood and Fire

I looked at Sam, I couldn't believe that he had been a girl. He was huge, even bigger than my Phys ed teacher and he'd been in the NHL. With his dark black skin, buzz cut, brown eyes, hands that looked like they could crush a coconut and legs that were as big around as my waist, there was nothing feminine about him. Not even his dark blue shorts and open, short sleeved shirt looked remotely like what a girl would wear.

I was about to call him a liar, then I remembered until a few hours ago I'd been taller, skinnier, and very different looking. “Why did they change you?” I asked.

His eyes went down, and he started wiping his hands on his long shorts like they were dirty. “They wanted a fighter, a strong fighter. They said I had the spirit but not the strength.”

He was silent and it didn't look like he was going to say anything else. I looked at my chest, and once again brushed the hair from my eyes, the long hair was getting annoying. “Wouldn't it make more sense to find a guy to be a fighter?”

Sam shook his head. “They don't have many humans. They're building up a supply, but from what I understand this realm, The Bitter Winds Steading, is one of the bigger ones in Canada, and it only has twenty three humans including you. There are a few with over a hundred slaves, but they're near places that have lots of poor and refugees that can disappear easily and don't remember how to protect themselves from the fair folk. When I was tricked I was told I was to be an entertainer, I thought it would be acting or dancing. The fair folk wanted a fighter, it was easier to just change me like they did you, than to trade me for someone better suited to their needs.”

“Have you been to other places?”

He nodded, “I was taken by a wandering fair folk group. I traveled through South America, and went up north until I arrived here two months ago. Then they had to give me away when they lost a bet about who was the better singer. Happiest day of my life getting away from those psychopaths.”

I perked up, “Your from South America?”

“Yeah, Argentina,” he said with a frown. “The poorer part of Argentina up in the mountains.”

“You don't sound Spanish,” I said. It was true, he was speaking perfect English.

He waved his finger around. “Magic. To me it sounds like your speaking perfect Spanish. I met a scholar near Mexico City, who was ordered to explain fae magic by his master. By the time I met him the man had been working on it for eight years and when he wasn't catatonic from trying to make sense of it all, he was talking about how this is a spirit realm where our souls talk, and the fair folk are the old gods that have been abandoned by humanity.”

“That's im-” I shut my mouth, saying anything was impossible was now impossible. “What do you fight?”

“Animals mostly. Bulls, bears, wolves, moose, dogs,” he said, wiping his hands again, a little harder this time. “Sometimes they've been improved by the fair folk. Jasper, the one who changed you, considers himself an artist in that way and he is always trying to find improvements to the original design.”

I remembered the way the wooden faced creature had smiled as he was changing my body. I shivered and it wasn't from the cool air. Hastily I pushed the thought from my mind, it was that or fall to the ground crying and screaming.

“Sometimes I fight a fair folk. One of their young warriors or a weak one that has won the displeasure of his betters. I like those ones,” he said, miming himself grabbing something thin and squeezing hard enough to make the veins in his hand to pop out. “Before I would have to fight humans. Other gladiators for the amusement of the courts. That was usually to first blood, first fall or unconsciousness. Three times it was to the death.”

The dark look on Sam's face made me finally shut up. At least I knew why Paula had left when Sam had made his fists. I wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of a fight with him if there was any other possible choice in the world.

We finished our meal in silence.
**

We were just leaving the cafeteria when one of the hypnotic balls of lights appeared. Sam turned his eyes away, grabbed me by the arm and covered my eyes. “When a whisp comes up to you, look away. They'll lead you into hell for a laugh. But sometimes, like now apparently they're used as messengers. Look at the ground, follow their glow, but don't look at them or they might forget their mission.”

As he moved his hand from my eyes, I looked down at the light spot just beneath the whisp. I resisted the urge to shake his hand from my arm, first of all because it wouldn't do any good his muscles felt like iron, and second I still felt the urge to look up at the beautiful lights of the whisp.

We followed it through the halls and fields of the steading. I didn't look around, I could feel the intense concentration coming from Sam, he knew something was wrong and he wanted to be ready for whatever it was. It was infectious, but I had no idea what to prepare for, so I simply tried to control my breathing like I did before a big test. I ignored the shells that glowed violet and left the taste of watermelon in my mouth as we stepped on them. A swamp covered in a thin layer of hard mist where things moved beneath the surface, splashing the syrupy water as they reached for us only to his in pain when they touched the mist.

When walking across a mirror I saw myself, my old self, walking alone towards us beneath the mirror. He, I, was leaving a trail of blood with every step, limping painfully on bloody feet, I could see the bones where the skin had worn away. But I wasn't crying, there was a look of triumph on my face. When he saw me, the triumph turned to utter contempt and loathing. I'd only seen that look once before, when my mother saw a dying rat in the basement.

I shut my eyes, letting Sam guide me. Eventually after walking through an area where I couldn't even hear myself breathe, we stopped. The silence was shattered by laughter, music and talking that drove me to my knees.

The noise of the party was like a wall of sound, even Sam flinched. I heard a hundred different conversations shouted into my ears, the music shook my bones, laughter echoed through my brain forcing out all thoughts. I felt my ears start to bleed, my heart stuttered overpowered by the noise. I opened my eyes, but all I could see were black dots, it felt like I'd run a mile. I couldn't breathe. It felt like I was dying.

The noise died down as quickly as it began. The music, the noise, the laughter, it was all bearable. I was standing on my feet again, my heart was beating normally. I felt my ears, they didn't hurt, but my finger came back wet with blood. I looked at Sam, hoping he could tell me what was going on. He was shaking, and I realized he'd let go of my arm. A drop of blood dripped from his clenched hand.

Paula came over, smiling broadly. “Ant, Sam, I'm glad you could join us. I was talking to her Ladyship and we decided that we should have a celebration to honour our valiant hunters who brought us another humble servant.”

“What do I have to kill today?” Sam asked, rubbing his hands on his shorts again, smearing blood on the blue fabric.

She clapped her hands excitedly, as if he was asking what song he'd have to sing. “Jasper has spent the last week on a black bear, it's going to be so fun watching our strong, handsome, masculine gladiator kill it. Don't you agree Ant?”

I ducked my head and slid behind Sam, she scared me more than some of the fae. The tall woman laughed her hand moving as if to pat my head. Sam shook his head slightly, moving in front of me so I could only see his broad back. For only just meeting him, Sam was quickly becoming my best friend ever.

“His name is Anthony. If that's too long for you, call him Ann,” Sam growled as he flexed his shoulders.

“You can't protect her all the time Sam,” Paula hissed, leaning over his head to look at me. “She can either learn to stand on her own feet, learn who the real power is here, or she can fall when you do. Think carefully, Ant.”

As Sam ground his teeth, she walked away to sit at the Lady's feet. The blue hand of the fae woman patted her head like a dog, leaving sparkles of ice in her blonde hair.

Calandri came over to us. “You dancer, and you fighter, come with me. You will both perform.”

“I still can't dance,” I squeaked, fear taking my voice away.

The red woman didn't even glance at me. “It is good you aren't dancing then. We are going to see how graceful you are. Do better than you did earlier. You humans are fragile, and I would hate to owe Jasper a favour if he has to fix you.”

My heart started to race again. “I can't do it, Sam. I always screwed up in gym class,” I whispered.

“Just let your body do it, follow your instincts,” he said. “It's how I survived my first fight.”

“I don't have any instincts,” I said, hugging my stomach. I really wanted to puke just then.

Sam sighed, “Your body has the instincts. Just don't get in it's way.”

I tried to ignore the fae who watched us. There were more of them now, it looked like hundreds. I felt their eyes boring into me, bright blues, flaming reds, swirling stars, lightning, glittering mirrors, and more. My eyes focused on Sam's back.

“Sit, step into the ring when you are called,” Calandri said pointing at two furry, orange chairs that shifted as I watched them.

Sam sat down without any comment, his chair squeaked, it's five legs shaking. I poked my chair, it was warm to the touch, I thought I felt a pulse. Calandri looked at me, her pure white eyes began to glow yellow, I practically threw myself into the chair.

The chair squealed like a pig, the legs bent and threw me into the air. I landed on a floor which resembled a net made of jewelled strands, my face pressed into the hard wires, I could see a forest floor was far below us. Pain lashed across my skin as the strands sliced my skin. The entire room burst into laughter.

A strong hand grabbed my leotard, pulling me up so hard I was looking straight up into a canopy of yellow trees, filled with winged creatures who were laughing and pointing at me. The sight lasted a second, as I landed on the chair hard. My tailbone slammed down and fire erupted all along my spine.

Sam's hand remained attached to my back until the squealing, bucking chair finally stopped moving. Calandri's eyes were on fire now, sparks flew from them as she watched me. I put my head between my knee's hoping it would all go away. The laughter slowly died away, but the echo of it wouldn't leave my head.

The music eventually stopped, a voice that was like the howling wind began to speak. “Gentle folk, this event will see blood shed. The human Sam, warrior, killer, vicious beast, will fight bear, gentle giant, harmless pet, innocent creature. Enjoy.”

I had to look up, Sam was walking across the net stepping on the blue strands as if they were were a solid floor, sometimes he had to skip to reach the next one. How did he know the blue strands were safe? Why hadn't he told me?

I caught a glimpse of a big bellied creature with a gigantic nose blow itself away from the center of the net. It's mouth was as large as a basketball and a howling gale came from it. It flew backwards into the top of the tallest tree. It should have looked funny, but the rows of teeth, flashes of light from it's throat, and the way the wind whipped around the room howling like wolves made it so bizarre it was terrifying.

Something that looked like a bear was lowered from the trees by ropes of fire. It's black fur was singed, but it didn't seem to care. The gentle giant was far larger than any black bear I'd ever seen, this was the size of a bull, it's claws were silver and gold each one as long as a butcher knife and barbed at the end. It stood up roaring, revealing a belly covered in an insect shell from the throat to the rear. I didn't know how Sam could be so calm. He said something I couldn't hear over the growling of the monster, a small wooden club flew through the net into his hand.

He was going to fight that monster with a club no longer than my arm? He was insane.

The bear walked forwards, the net was rock solid under it. Sam kept moving on the blue strands only. They circled each other, feinting with the club or claw, constantly moving, their eyes searched for any opening. The bear lunged, forcing Sam to jump back, landing on a red strand which bounced as if it were a trampoline.

Sam almost fell, the bear raced forward. My new friend spun around like a bull fighter the bear raised its gigantic paw to strike him. The club came down hitting the golden claws, they shattered like ice. The monster howled in pain and anger. Sam rolled away as the bear spun around trying to bite him, it wasn't even close. Sam came to his feet on a green strand, bouncing on it, raising his arms ignoring the bear, the audience howled in joy. I saw Paula scowling even as she clapped with the rest of them.

The monster ran at Sam, totally enraged. At the last second, he turned and it looked as if he lightly tapped the bear on the nose, yet blood erupted around the club, coating the wood and Sam's dark skin. The bear tumbled head over heels, its blood colouring the lower leaves of the trees. Sam easily jumped over it letting it slide under him. The crowd screamed again, some ran or flew down to lap up the blood.

“COME ON!” Sam screamed at the bear. “We're not done yet. They want blood, so get up. FIGHT you mangy beast!”

The monster got up shaking it's massive head in obvious pain. I wished it would stay down, I didn't want it to hurt Sam, but this was torture. The animal had as much chance against him as I did.

When the monster wouldn't advance, Sam raced towards it, using the unstable strands to leap straight at it. The bear swung it's good paw at it's enemy, but it was too slow, the club came down on it's head, it sounded like a mountain collapsing. Even as the bear fell to the ground, he landed on its head, he reached into it's mouth ripping out a fang. As the monster hit the ground, Sam killer jumped off, raising the bloody fang and club in the air.

The fae went mad with delight.

I watched in disgust as some of the smaller creatures landed on the monster, each one ripping off a chunk of meat with its hands or mouth, flying away in a shower of bloody mist. In less than a minute there was nothing left but a skeleton. Sam disappeared into a crowd of admirers.

As the cheering stopped, I saw that all eyes were on me.

I so wanted to run away just then. But when I looked behind me, I saw Calandri, eyes glowing and her fiery red hair dancing in the steady wind that flowed through the forest. I looked around, hoping to see some kind of support, but the only human I saw was Paula, her thin face was lit up like a child at a birthday party. This was going to suck.

I stood up, and stepped onto the netting which formed the ring. I put my foot gingerly on a blue strand, it was cold on my feet, slippery to. It bent dangerously, I almost lost my balance trying to stay on the thing, it was about as thick as a baby's finger.

Stepping back I tried a yellow strand, it supported my weight although it was hard to keep my balance. Taking another step, I ended up on a black metal strand, my shoe started smoking. I jumped away, the fae started laughing again as I stumbled from one strand to the next, only staying upright because I wouldn't stop moving.

Suddenly my foot found something stable. Looking down I saw a red strand, it was as solid as a rock and despite it's thinness my whole foot was supported. I looked around for more red strands, they were few and far between.

Great.

Paula stood up, “Gentle folk, today we are to see the newest servant to the Bitter Winds Steading, Ant, perform for us. We shall see such marvelous feats of skill and grace you will all be amazed. So please let us give the amazing Ant an applause.”

As the fae politely applauded, I saw a smug smile come to Paula's face. I was going to fail and she was going to watch. I needed to throw up. Fighting down my fright I looked around, wondering what they expected me to do. Was I suppose to start jumping around? Do some gymnastics? If that was what they wanted, it was going to be boring.

A small bird flew down, it looked like it was on fire, each feather smoked, heat rose from it making the air shimmer, it had a beak as dark as coal that looked razor sharp. I had a bad feeling about this. Especially as the onlookers became deathly quiet, a few even leaned forward for a better look. The fire bird flew at me, it wasn't really fast, only about as fast as I could run. I jerked to the side, not willing to leave the one part of the net that actually supported me. It passed by, missing me by inches, but a wave of heat rushed past my arm. It stung and the sweat of stage fright dried instantly. I look at the skin, it looked like I had bad sunburn.

The bird screamed like a woman, I turned to face it again. The thing was coming back, faster now, aiming for my stomach, it's black claws were outstretched, they looked cracked and each line was a dark sullen red, like burning embers. I threw myself to the side, landing awkwardly on the threads, bouncing over them getting nicks, cuts and burns. My arms and legs got tangled in the spider web like floor, I flailed around, trying to free myself only to yell in pain as the sharper threads sliced into me. A bone dry wind hot enough to singe my black hair blew over me. I smelled smoke coming from my clothes.

Somehow I rolled onto my back, there were two fire birds now. They were flying high above me, circling, twisting, and spinning around each other, between them the air was glowing, turning yellow, heat came off of it in waves. My eyes felt so dry, blinking hurt.

Ok, Sam had said let instincts take over, I could do it. Just stop thinking, that should be easy for me. I focused on the birds, ignoring everything else. They were going faster now, blurs of light that hurt to look at. There was music again, wild music, it hurt the ears almost as much as the heat hurt my eyes. Why couldn't they shut up?

The birds came down ready to gut me with their claws, or burn me with the fire between them. A scream of fear left my lips. My hand grabbed a black thread. I screamed louder as my palm burned, yet somehow with just a jerk of my hand I was standing. The blue thread bowed so much I thought it would break. My eyebrows were scorching and I smelled the foul scent of burning hair.

At the last second my knee's bent and I leaped. The thread pushed against me, it felt like I was shot out of a gun. The forest floor looked to be a hundred feet below me, small branches and leaves hit me. I saw the crowd staring at me, the fire birds were under the net, tracking me, setting fire to the bushes below.

I couldn't figure out how to land, I hit the net hard. My left foot hit a red thread, the other a green one. Another yell of pain, it felt like my left foot was broken. The green thread snapped flaying my skin. I rolled, clutching my legs, tears came so hard it was impossible to see.

The flapping of wings filled my ears. I was in the middle of an inferno. Heat surrounded me, I felt myself peeing, the heat boiled it away before it could even make my underwear damp. I thought I had screamed before, that was nothing compared to the howl that tore itself from my throat. The blistering air filled my lungs.

The heat disappeared, I was so hot, so thirsty. I could drink an ocean and I would need more.

More fire birds were dancing above me, the fiery lights were moving too fast to count, the air shimmered, glowing red. There was no way I could survive that, I was going to die. Somehow I got to my knees, resting on the red thread. I don't know why, but something in me didn't want to die on my back.

My hand shot up suddenly, catching something that was flying at my head. I hadn't even noticed it until I was holding it. Dumbly I saw that it was a silver knife. Turning I saw Sam walking away back into the crowd. Shaking I stood up, the birds came down, shrieking in delight. My knife flew faster. It speared the largest bird that was leading the dive. The flock shattered in a panic. My body, it wasn't me, I wasn't in control at this point, my body leaped up, catching the still burning bird wrenched the knife from it's body, I heard something sizzle but ignored it.

I landed, but instead of stopping I used the net like a trampoline. One jump, two jumps, a third, I was in the midst of the confused and panicked birds. Their heat was almost overwhelming. The knife slashed through the air, none of the cuts killed, instead they cut wings, ripped out tail feathers, and tore open the fiery skin. The air filled with shrieks of pain, some of them mine.

We fell from the sky, a ball of silver and flame, scratching, biting, slashing, burning. We hit the net, I stopped, they kept going. There was applause, cheering, thunder, lightening, howling wind. The last thing I remember was Sam picking me up.

I walk towards what passes for the infirmary, my arm is bleeding, it's almost severed and none of the little magicks I've picked up will heal it. My thin ebony blade, Crier of Souls, is in my hand despite my wounds. I never know when a fae I've embarrassed or a fellow slave will want to get it's little bit of revenge seeing me in a moment of weakness. I shake my head to get the blood red hair out of my eyes, the greasy, sweaty bangs have to go. Maybe after I get my arm fixed I'll make Sin give me a haircut.

Pushing open the door I'm surprised to see Sam sitting over a bed, rubbing ointment on someone. This could prove interesting. He doesn't hear me gliding over the floor, I'm not trying to be silent it's just what I am. I look down and for the first time in a long time I'm surprised a second time. I see me lying in bed, my skin burnt red, my hair singed into something resembling a buzz cut made by a flame thrower. I am crying softly, still unconscious from the... the... what was it? Oh yes, the first dance with the fire birds. I look so helpless, so fragile. So full of potential.

I step to the side of the bed. Sam jumps up his large fists ready to pummel me, to break me, to kill me. He's wise beyond his years. I flick my wrist, Crier is at his throat, poking into his skin before he can blink. "Don't make me kill you again Sam. Please."

He's a smart boy, you have to be to survive this long, he steps back lowering his hands. My blade goes back to my side. I don't let the pain show as I raise my wounded hand to touch my face, my blood leaves a trail on my burnt skin. My red skin so similar it's like a mirror, yet one is still unblemished, one is scarred, a tapestry of history, each one a reminder of a dance.

I've changed, yet I can still see me in me. The eyes they gave me, the upturned nose, the fragile cheek bones, the pointed jaw. My mouths are different though. One mouth still knows how to smile, I can see a trace of it, I mark it with my blood. More blood drips on our face, letting the young me know what the future holds. I am still innocent, naive, gentle, that will change.

I could end this now, a tightening of the fingers around my throat, or a slice from Crier. The sword would like that, it's been hungering for my blood since I won it in a dance. I would survive, but I would die, never having to face the horrors, dying peacefully in my sleep. A kindness. A day in a nightmare, and then peace forever. Yes, it would be best. Save an innocent and let the monster survive.

Sam knows what I'm thinking, he moves. He thinks he's quick. My foot hits his sternum. It's like hitting a rock, and I wince as my arm is jolted. But my foot is a jack hammer, he goes to his knees, wheezing and gasping for breath.

My eyes never leave my face.

A quick painless death. The only kindness I can offer.

My eyes flutter, I am looking at me, I look surprised, shocked, even a little scared. I wonder how long it's been since I've been scared. Since I really felt anything. I can't remember.

I raise Crier. I start to cry.

I don't remember this.

"Why?" I ask myself.

The sword comes down, I put it in my small, innocent hands.

"Don't stop fighting. Don't stop trying. Or the next time you see you, kill yourself. It will be better," I tell myself.

I walk out the door, unarmed, bleeding, possibly dying. A monster may die. An innocent may be saved. As I see the hungry angry eyes coming closer, music fills my veins and I draw a dagger. One last dance. For the first time in years, I truly smile.

**

I looked at the dark sword in my hand, not sure what just happened. But I had no idea what the red woman meant about fighting and killing myself. That made no sense.

As I looked at the sword I realized something, my skin was a brilliant red like I was sunburned. A lot like the woman who had given me the sword. But there was no pain, it felt a little oily but that was all. What was going on? I remembered the birds burning me, I'd been on fire. There should be something worse, not just this.

I heard a groan from the floor. Sam was slowly getting to his feet, grimacing with the effort. I tried to get off the bed to help him, but as I put weight on my left foot I screamed in pain. Fire ran through my calf, and I felt bone grinding together. With my good leg I jumped back into bed trying to breathe through the agony.

"What happened, Sam?" I finally managed to gasp.

"Fae stuff," he said with a grimace.

"And that means?" I encouraged him.

He slowly made it to his feet. "Did you see her?" He asked looking at me strangely. I nodded my head. "Did she look familiar?" He asked.

I shook my head, "I haven't seen many people since I got here."

He pulled a large dew drop from a leaf it expanded into a ball about the size of my head. "Look at the ball?" He said, giving the shimmering water to me.

I held it gingerly, afraid the beautiful orb would break under my clumsy fingers. The shimmering surface reflected everything in its' center, a perfect 3D mirror. I saw my new face for the first time, the thin cheekbones, too large eyes, upturned nose, pointed chin, all of it smeared lightly in blood. My lips were bright red with her, my, blood. I wipe it off on my gown.

"The woman was me!"

Sam nodded, and groaned like he had a headache. "Yeah, and she wasn't much for talking."

"She was going to kill me. Why would she kill me?" I asked, trying to breath, but I couldn't seem to get any air into my lungs.

"She'd been here for a long time, years probably. I've never seen anyone move like her. The fair folk aren't sane, and the longer a human stays with them the crazier they get. It's like an infection," Sam said. "Why did she stop?"

"I-I don't know. I asked her why and she suddenly gave me their sword and told me to keep fighting," I told him. "How did she get here?"

He shrugged. "Time, cause and affect, logic, they don't have much meaning here. Humans bring some stability to the steading, at least that's the current theory around the north, but it's still flexible. I've seen myself a few times a little older, a little younger. Never talked to myself though."

"Did sh- I hurt you?"

He touched his stomach, it was turning an ugly green, "Not much. But you kick like a mule. Can I see the sword she gave you?”

I handed the sword over. I didn't know anything about them, maybe Sam would want it for one of his fights. He could have it, there was no way I wanted to use a sword from the crazy, future me. He looked at it carefully, testing the blade by shaving his arm. I wouldn't want to risk that, the dark blade looked evil, like a bit of hell turned to stone. It was about 3 feet long, and when I had been holding it, it didn't seem to weigh much, less than a paperback book.

Sam started to swing it, the blade hissed through the air like a snake. As he swung it, going faster and faster, I saw him looking at me, his face grew hard. Still swinging, he turned to face me, I didn't like the way his jaw was set, it reminded me of his fight with the bear. As the blade came closer, I edged back until my back hit a stone wall.

Suddenly he stopped dead, the tip of the sword pointed at my head.

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply for a few minutes. Then after what seemed like an eternity he held it by the flat of the blade and handed it to me. “Take it. It's yours.”

“I don't want it,” I said firmly, looking at the thin, double edged blade warily. It was sucking in the light from the room. I felt nervous just watching it.

“You want to survive?”

“Of course I do. What type of question is that?” I demanded.

“I saw the future you, I was hit by her. I didn't have a chance to defend myself. When she first came in, before I knew what was happening, I turned to face her ready to kill her if she was going to hurt either of us. She had that sword pressed against my throat before I could make a fist. When I thought she was going to hurt you, she knocked me down and had me helpless with a single kick, she didn't even look at me.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I haven't even seen a fae who is that good.”

I shook my head. “I don't want to be her. She, she seemed to want to die, she looked so tired.”

“Then don't be like her. Learn what you can and then use this sword and your skills to escape,” he whispered.

My eyes went wide, “I can escape?”

He nodded. “I know one person who succeeded, in California. And there are stories told by other humans about people who have succeeded. But it's not easy, you have to be the best, because they will hunt you down.”

Escape. I could really escape. I took the sword, my hand shook as I held it up. I felt cold.

Sam stepped away from the bed and began looking at the trees and bushes surrounding us. "We need to fix your leg, you got a nasty break when you landed the second time. You don't feel it right now because of the lotion I covered you with, one of the best pain killers ever. Put the sword down for a minute"

"I'm guessing I'm not getting a cast," I tried to joke as I laid the sword down on a stone shelf.

"No, we have something better here," he said holding a hollow, green branch that looked like bamboo. It had a split on one side and he had it spread open.

"What's that?"

"Break grass. It mends broken bones, and after a good night sleep you're perfectly healed. but it hurts going in,” he said.

“Going i-” I screamed as he placed it on my skin.

The razor sharp edge of the branch cut into my skin. Sam put his hand on my chest, keeping me down, so I couldn't see what was happening. It felt like an army of ants were crawling under my skin, biting into the muscle. As the ants moved forward splitting my flesh, the stiff, rough, wood followed, tearing the muscles apart. It scraped the bone, circling it. The ants moved to the break, burning, grinding and smoothing it, the wood tightened, crushing the bone, I heard a crunching sound, and a wave of agony moved through my body. It was worse then when I'd broken it.

The pain slowly faded away. I shook on the bed, exhausted, panting for breath, there was blood in my mouth, I must have bitten my tongue at some point during the screaming. Sam hugged me whispering that it was going to be alright.

“Wh-what was that?” I said once I had the pain under control. My leg was still aching but it didn't feel like it was being crushed anymore.

“I told you break grass. It's a type of plant that grows in steadings to help humans heal broken bones. It was really hard to find when I was tricked here, but since then it's flourished,” he explained. “Tomorrow you'll be able to start training with Calandri, without even a limp.”

“I think I'd rather risk her being angry with me than go through that again,” I said, feeling my leg and twitching my toes. Everything seemed in order but the memory still made me shake in pain.

Sam shook his head. “You will learn. She'll make today look like a picnic if you don't do well. Pay attention and learn, or you'll be in here a lot, or under Jasper's care.”

Ok, that was a scary thought. “Alright I'll practice hard.” Another thought came to mind, I raised my red arm. “When will my skin turn back to normal.”

“No idea,” he admitted. “Sometimes things that happen to us here stay with us. So you could stay red forever, if it doesn't stick you could be back to normal tomorrow or in a month.”

I thought of the red, future me, she had been covered in scars, and her arm had been hanging by a thread. As I looked at the unreal forest around us, I'd never felt so scared in all my life.

"There is emotional and minor physical abuse in this part. You've been warned."

Sam gave me a long, glittering yellow dress that flared out at the bottom to put on. “Where did you get this?” I asked, holding it up to my chest.

“Since I'm helping you I can get into your room. While you were unconscious I grabbed it. Your red skirt was burned so badly it was practically falling off,” he said.

I felt my face grow hot, not that anyone could tell I was blushing with my skin so red. I didn't care if he had been a girl, I didn't like the thought of him seeing me in my underwear or, god help me, less. He left the infirmary so I had some privacy and I quickly got dressed, the thin, leafy green gown I had been wearing seemed so light and airy, it was almost like I wasn't wearing anything. Somehow it fit perfectly, fitting to my body and showing off every curve. Whoever had designed my wardrobe didn't seem to understand that sometimes a person doesn't want to show off, especially when they'd been a boy the day before. As I was about to leave I realized that the sword was still propped against the side of the bed. I didn't know the first thing about swords and had nothing to hold it with, so I finally picked it up and stepped outside.

Sam grabbed my arm as I tried to jump back in a panic. The walls were fleshy and a dark purple like a kidney or heart. As I watched them, they moved and flexed, not like a heart, but like it was being circled and squeezed by an anaconda. There was a rasping sound that set my teeth on edge. There was a plain metal door at the end, with a red and white exit sign above it.

“Where are we?” I whispered, afraid that whatever was squeezing the room would hear me.

“The antechamber. What do you like to do?” he asked me in his normal deep voice.

The rasping was making me want to wet my pants. “Anything quiet. Quickly.”

Sam knocked on the door I'd just came out of, making it boom. “Library.”

The door opened, revealing a dusty stack of books on a rickety desk. A man with skin as thin and fragile as the letters grandma kept from her childhood sat at the table. He was covered in dust and and spiders crawled over his bald head, cobwebs hung from his scalp like hair. His eyes were white, yet he ran a shaking, bony finger over a book muttering to himself.

“Hello, Walter. Someone wants to meet you, her name is Anthony,” Sam whispered as he sat down in a chair that looked like it would fall any second.

He didn't look up, but he spoke louder, revealing his toothless gums. “The way was long, the wind was cold. The Minstrel was infirm and old; His wither'd cheek, and tresses gray, Seem'd to have known a better day. Sir Walter Scott, The Lay of the Last Minstrel.”

“Um, that was very nice, Walter,” I said.

His dusty, ivory white eyes looked at me, I realized he didn't have any eyelids. Somehow he was looking at me. I hunched down in my chair hoping he'd stop watching me. He didn't, in fact he leaned closer. “ I am the daughter of Earth and Water, And the nursling of the Sky; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I cannot die. Percy Shelley, The Cloud.”

“Ok. I think I just want to read a book now, if that's ok with you Walter,” I whispered, grabbing a fat half rotted book with no name. Hiding behind it I looked at the pages, they were blank. Flipping through it every page was empty.

I leaned over to ask Sam what was going on when the scary old man spoke again. “I do know that for the sympathy of one living being, I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other. Mary Shelly, Frankenstein.”

“Sam, why is the book blank?” I asked, trying to ignore the quotes. I hated English class and didn't want to think about it here.

“Just think of a book you like, or a type of book you want to read. Then open it, if you don't like it close it and try again,” he explained.

Frowning I thought about a batman comic book, yes I liked comic books, sue me, and opened the book again. It was the very first Batman comic. Flipping the pages I saw it went up to the 1950's. Closing it again, I thought 'Batman newest', and opened it up to see a comic showing the hero facing some villain I didn't know. I looked at the date, 2025, October.

Wow!

I spent the next hour or so reading comics that shouldn't exist yet. Unfortunately as I was finally escaping reality, Sam stood up, “Time to go Anthony. We need to see more things. Good bye Walter.”

He didn't look up, but of course he had something to say. “Still let my tyrants know, I am not doom’d to wear, Year after year in gloom and desolate despair; A messenger of Hope comes every night to me, And offers for short life, eternal liberty. Emily Bronte, The Prisoner.”

Knowing what to expect from the antechamber, I followed Sam so closely my hands were pressed against his back. Despite the horrible sounds and beatings of the room, I had to fight back a yawn. “Can I go back to my room now? Please.”

“Sure thing. Rooms,” Sam said, banging on the door once more.

We came out in the hallway with it's lines of doors and face plates. I hadn't thought I'd ever be happy to see it, and truthfully I hated the sight of the heavy, sullen doors, but after everything I just wanted to slink under some blankets and hopefully wake to discover it was all a nightmare. Of course at that point my stomach rumbled.

“Come on, lets get some food and we can take it back to our rooms,” Sam told me.

There were some other people in the cafeteria, Sam and I ignored them and they ignored us. I was quickly realizing that most people here weren't very friendly, the looks in their eyes were full of fear and they seemed to cringe if someone came too close. I wondered if I'd start looking like that before too long.

I grabbed things at random. Everything was edible, if not good tasting, so it didn't really matter what I ate. When my leaf plate was piled high with purple bark, berries, and sap covered twigs, along with a long flute like leaf full of something like water, Sam took me back to my room.

“Here you are Anthony. Have a good sleep, you have to train tomorrow and it won't be easy. But if you do well you can find some happiness and safety here,” he said, the look in his eyes were concerned for me and I knew he was trying to encourage me. It didn't really work.

“Thanks,” I said, unsure of what else to say. We were prisoners for monsters, I didn't want safety, the only happiness I'd find would be if I escaped.

I closed the door, and ate my food, it tasted like dust in mouth.

**

I thought I was asleep. I remembered lying down and trying to cry into my overstuffed pillow, I'd found I couldn't my eyes had stayed dried until sleep overtook me. But now I was standing in my front yard at home, it felt real. The wind blowing in my hair, the grass under my bare feet, the sound of my brother playing video games inside, my baby sister playing in the wading pool while my Mom watched her. I raised my hand to wave to them, ready to shout that I was back home. But my hand was too small, the fingers too long.

I looked closely and could see my red skin looking even more unnatural in the sun, my short, muscular legs, feel the long hair running down my neck,. This wasn't right, this was all wrong. I started sobbing, all the tears I'd held in during the nightmare came surging from me.

My knees let go, and I fell, still sobbing. Through the tears I saw a pair of black boots coming towards me. I looked up, my heart thumping so hard I thought it would burst. A man was standing there, looking at me with a deathly white face, stark against his pure black clothes. Tears were falling gently from his eyes.

"Hello, Ant," he said.

"My name's Anthony," I said, wiping my nose.

He shook his head, "Anthony is a name for someone who stands on his feet, who demands the respect he deserves. You once were such a person, feared, hated, honoured, respected. I served you proudly, calling you master."

He grimaced, like he had a bad taste in his mouth. "Now, now you are a squalling babe, begging others for help, whining like a dog at the thought of pain. You live in the dirt, you are an ant, so I call you by your true name, Ant."

"Who are you?" I asked, mopping up the tears in my eyes, hoping whoever he is, he'd stop insulting me.

I could now see that he was skinny, and tall, very, very tall, looming over me like a giant, his eyes gleamed in the sunlight, sparkling even. He bowed, "I am the Crier of Souls. I am the sword you wielded, and that you could wield again. I slay all who come before me. And all who come before you. Only the strongest may stand against me. And then I do them the honour of remembrance.”

I shrank back. "You're evil."

"Evil," he repeated, cocking his head to the side. "What is Evil? I kill who my master orders, then I remember each soul, honouring them, remembering their deeds and valour. I do my duty, no more no less."

"What's your duty?" I asked.

"Survive, and help my worthy masters survive," it replied. "Only then can I remember those that have died. I remember you, you hold an honoured place in my memory. For you I weep hard. But for you now, I would spare a single tear and only because I must."

I saw the disgust in its dark eyes, the curl of its lip. I saw myself as it saw me, small, crying, helpless. I was weak, with no idea how to get stronger, and so many things around me human and not human wanted to see me fail, and even die.

It watched me wipe the snot from my nose, straighten my shoulders and look it in the face. "Can you teach me how to be stronger?"

It smiled showing bloody, jagged teeth. "I can. If you are willing to learn."

I don't know where the words came from, but I found myself speaking, "Crier of Souls, I ask you to be my teacher and my weapon. Slaying those who would slay me and honouring those we defeat as they deserve to be honoured. Please accept this student and this wielder."

It bowed deeply. "I accept you as my student and my wielder, so long as you honour me and those we defeat. Betray this oath and you will cry tears of blood and shame until the end of your days."

I found myself holding the black sword in a field of red poppies, Crier stood opposite me holding a wooden sword. "The first lesson begins now," he said raising his sword.

**

I woke up the next morning, my mind a flurry of chaotic images of flashing swords, carefully placed feet and the feeling of welts covering my body. Looking around I realized this wasn't a nightmare. I felt my long hair, my now prominent hips, my short body, the red skin. I curled up into a ball clutching my knees to my chin. This couldn't be real. It wasn't real. Nothing like this was possible.

I remembered the hands on my flesh, changing me, the look in the creatures eyes. One looked at me like nothing more than a piece of meat, the other smiling his eyes glittering with excitement. My body shifted under him, my skin writhed, my bones bent. My new face appeared above me, contempt, hating me, hating everything that I was. Ready to kill me simply for existing.

What was happening?

Suddenly I smelled my grandmother cooking in the kitchen. Ham, french toast, golden scrambled eggs, all smothered in maple syrup and ketchup. I was just in bed, I'd had a nightmare. Everything would be alright.

Ryan was in the bathroom, I could hear him brushing his teeth. He was always noisy, gargling the water, farting, slapping his cheeks hoping to feel some hair. Usually the noise annoyed me, but today they were music to my ears. Grandpa was listening to Elvis out in the backyard, working on some little project or other. He was probably hoping to get some work done before it started raining again. It had been raining almost constantly since I had arrived, which really sucked, I was hoping to do some fishing today.

The blankets were so warm, I curled up into a ball, just enjoying the sounds and smells. My eyes were closed, I didn't need to see the plain wooden walls of my grandparents cottage. I could smell the pine and maple, it was one of the best smells in the worlds.

My clothes were put away neatly in the big dresser at the end of the bed. It was painted white with angels dancing on it. Grandma said it had been hers when she was a girl. I loved it, it always made my clothes smell like maple.

I wondered if I should get up. I was getting hungry, and Grandma's cooking was starting to make my mouth water. The last thing I remembered eating was some weird hotdog. I must have overcooked it in the fireplace last night just before bed. I didn't remember cooking hotdogs, but where else would I have eaten one? That weird nightmare? Not likely.

A door opened, footsteps came towards me. I smiled that had to be grandma. It sounded a little strange, her feet seemed to be clicking on stone, not creaking on the wooden floor, but who else could it be. The blankets were pulled back roughly. What was wrong with grandma, she didn't wake me up like this. “Grandma, what's wrong?” I murmured, still not opening my eyes.

“It's time to train human. Get up!” a woman snapped.

I covered my head. It was just part of the nightmare. I went back to my room, Grandma was there, asking if I was alright. She stroked my head like I was a little boy and told me it was just a nightmare. Everything was alright, and there was no reason to be afraid.

The nightmare held on. “You are trying my patience human!”

Grandpa came in, he wanted to show me the birdhouse he had made. I opened my eyes, and I saw a really cute birdhouse. It didn't have any paint, just different coloured woods, pretty white sides, dark brown doors and window frames, and a rose coloured roof. Grandpa was always doing things like that. Grandma started scratching my head, it hurt a little. I told her to stop, but she didn't. Her fingers were sharp. She cut my skin, I yelled but then her fingers were pushing into my skull. I saw Calandri again. She was massaging me. Her long fingers stroking me as she frowned.

The fingers stopped scratching me. Grandma was there again, smiling at me with her rosy cheeks. “So this is where you're hiding,” she said.

“I had a bad dream, Grandma,” I whispered,

Her hand patted my cheek. “Of course dear. But don't worry, it will be over soon enough. All you have to do is learn how to behave.”

“What?”

“You're a worthless little child right now,” she sneered, her lip curled and she scrunched up her nose like she smelled shit. “What good are you to anyone? Why do you think Ryan left you behind yesterday? Because you're slow, you're helpless. The only thing you're good for is a distraction.”

Grandpa slapped me across the face. “When we go fishing, do you ever help me? No you just sit on your skinny, lazy ass asking me to tie your god damn fish hooks for you, because you're too much of a dumby to learn how to tie simple knot. Just once I'd like go fishing without hearing your whiny little voice.”

“You visit us, eat us out of house and home, and what do we get in return? A few cheap presents, a hug or two, and the sheer JOY of having to wipe your nose and ass whenever you start to cry, which seems to be every single hour,” Grandma said, standing up and wiping her hands on her pants like she had touched something filthy. “You cry more than your baby sister. At least she has an excuse for being useless. What's yours?”

“Grandma, Grandpa,” I whispered fighting back the tears.

“Do you know why your parents give you to us for a month every summer?” Grandpa asked. “It's so they don't have to listen to you. They are so sick of you that if it wasn't illegal they'd leave you on the street to starve. You're a disgrace, getting a D in phys ed? How the hell can you get a D for running?”

Grandma slapped me hard, my lip started to bleed. “You have my daughter crying to me on the phone, because you're failing math. You're father is an accountant. Did God just forget to give you a brain when you were born? You are the most useless person this family has ever produced.”

“You're father drinks every weekend because of you,” Grandpa said. “When he comes home, smelling of beer, its to forget the shame of you. Why couldn't you be more like Ryan? He's good at school. He's good looking. He has more than a handful of little shits to call friends. What is one good thing you can do?”

I huddled in my blanket. I couldn't answer even if I wanted to. I'd never heard them talk like this. I'd never had anyone talk to me like this before. Everything they said felt like a punch. And they wouldn't shut up. I tried to block them out, but it didn't work. They pinched me, slapped me, hurt me. And the entire time they kept talking, telling me how useless I was, what a disgrace I was, how I should be ashamed of existing.

As the hours went on and they didn't stop talking, I started to believe them.

**

The nightmare ended finally. I was lying in my bed still, my nightgown, the sheets the mattress soaked with sweat and tears. I could still hear everything my grandparents had said to me, it echoed in my brain, I wondered if I could ever forget them.

Calandri looked down at me, smiling sweetly. She stroked my sweaty brow. “Remember Ant. No one cares for you as you are. But I, and I alone see your potential. When I come for you tomorrow, be ready to train, and I will show you how to become a powerful woman. Do you want that? Do you want to stop people from hurting you?”

I nodded my head.

“Good. Rest now, my little Ant. Remember I and I alone can keep those from hurting you. I am powerful here. Far more powerful than you can imagine. So follow me, trust me, and I will keep you safe. Here let me clean you up,” she said.

A basin of warm water and a sponge appeared out of nowhere. I felt a warm wind lift me into the air, my wet nightgown vanished. Calandri picked up the sponge and gently washed me. I hadn't been washed like that since I was three, but after all the hate and fear I'd felt, I closed my eyes and let myself feel protected and loved. Music filled the room, it was soft, sweet, peaceful.

“There you go, my little dancer. Calandri will care for you as long as you try to learn well,” she said scrubbing my short hair with a hot towel. “Learn well, and become strong for me. I won't let anything hurt you again, so long as you learn and are a good child.”

She put a clean nightgown on me, and put me back into bed, which had somehow been cleaned while she had washed me. She waved her hand and a table appeared with steaming pizza, chocolate milkshakes, chocolate ice cream, hamburgers, and hotdogs. “Now, for my little Ant, I have a special treat for you. Are you hungry?”

I nodded my head as my stomach growled.

“Do you promise to be a good child and try your best to make me happy?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Will you do what I ask, knowing that I'll protect you from all the bad things here?”

Again I nodded.

“Will you love me as much as I love you?” she asked, hugging me to her soft chest.

“I will,” I whispered.

“Good, good my sweet, wonderful child,” she said, kissing my cheek. “Lets go eat now, you need to be strong for me.”

As I ate the food, she took a brush and began combing my hair. Each brush seemed to take longer and longer to complete. As I started on my second slice of pizza I was pushing black hair out of my eyes. When I finished eating, the hair was heavy on my head, and hung to my waist. Calandri had put leather bows and silver bells in it. Whenever I moved my head the bells sang out.

“Do you like my gift, Ant? Aren't you beautiful?” she cooed.

I'd managed to recover a bit of my confidence by this point. “I'm not Ant, can you please call me Anthony?”

“I'm sorry Anthony, I won't call you Ant again, so long as you are a good child. But for the Lady, you must be beautiful. If you're not beautiful, the Lady will punish me. Do you want them to hurt me?” she asked, pouting and gazing at me with a look of longing and desire.

I looked into her amazing white eyes. “No, Calandri,” I whispered.

“Thank you my sweet, brave Anthony. So can you look in the mirror and tell me you're beautiful?” she asked.

A mirror hung in the air, I looked at it. My red skin glowed like the dying embers of a fire, shining against the silver bells that hung in my long black hair. “Thank you Calandri, you made me beautiful,” I said.

She beamed at me, like I was the greatest thing in the world. “I've made you beautiful, and soon I'll make you strong. Give me a kiss and then go back to sleep.”

I kissed her cheek, and she kissed me back. Her hands encircled me, and carried me cuddled against her warm body to bed. “There you go Anthony. Sleep well my dancer, and in the morrow we shall make you a star. Dream of me, and remember, now I am the only one who loves you, but soon with my help, everyone shall look at you in wonder and envy.”

The lights disappeared, but I felt her sitting beside the bed. As I slept I dreamed of Calandri, we were playing in a field of crystals too beautiful to describe. In the distance I saw Crier, but he had no business in the beautiful crystals, and he could come no closer.

I felt loved.

I woke up the next morning feeling refreshed. Calandri wasn't in the room with me, but I saw a set of clothes waiting for me at the foot of the bed, Crier was placed on top of them in a sheathe of gold. I put on the tight, red shorts that felt a lot like spandex but were more comfortable and a body hugging, sleeveless red top made of the same material. I didn't like the way they showed my body and my underwear, but Calandri had asked me to be pretty, and I didn't want to disappoint her. I wasn't sure how to attach Crier, there wasn't a belt or anything, but when I placed it at my side it clung to my shorts without pulling them down, as if it was a magnet.

I went to the cafeteria, there were more people there, fortunately none of them were Paula. I didn't see Sam either, which made me a little upset. The rainbow person who I still couldn't figure out if it was a man or woman, waved to me and motioned at the mushroom across from her with a smile. After getting some food, choosing mostly at random, since I couldn't remember what tasted like what, I sat down beside her.

“Hello there Anthony, I'm Sin. What's your name?” the woman, I realized from her voice, asked.

“Anthony,” I said staring at her a little confused, and trying not to stare at her glittering skin.

She looked me over, smiling with emerald teeth. “They did wonderful work on your eyes, Alex. And your skin is such a remarkable shade of red, Annette.”

I covered my arms, hunching down, I REALLY didn't want to talk about what they'd done to my body. Trying to think of what to say, I came up with nothing, I couldn't bear to even say thank you.

“Oh I'm sorry Ant, you're still new here. All of this has probably been a huge shock for you. After you've been here long enough you start seeing the beautiful side of it all,” she said, waving her hand down her body.

“How long have you been here?” I asked, picking up something that looked like pine needles held together by sap. It tasted like sticky roast beef.

“At least sixteen years, Anthony. I fell through a rabbit hole when I got lost in the woods in the summer of 2030. At first I was as scared as you are, Alex, but now I realize it was the best thing that ever happened to me,” she said, her strange pink eyes staring into the distance.

My brow furrowed, and not just at her constant changing of my name. “That's in the future Sin, how could you have been here for sixteen years?”

“Listen Anthony, Even on Earth, time is an illusion. Here the illusion is shattered, and we are free as you are now Ant. There are no boundaries, no limits. Reality isn't set, dreams are as real as you let them, and everything can change, Alex.” As she spoke her eyes got wider, she ran her fingers over her body, shifting the colours of her skin.

I leaned back from her. “So if I dreamed of going home, I could go home?”

She frowned so hard I thought she was going to cry. “But Alex, Why would you want to go home. It's so beautiful here. The stars sing you to sleep, the earth rocks your bed at night. The air whispers the secrets of the world in your ears, the fire dances for your pleasure. Water caresses your body, and the trees give you their strength. Leave here, you'd be leaving heaven.”

She was crazy. “Ok, I need to go do... I need to train. Good bye, Sin.”

“Good bye Ant, I hope to see you again. The winds talk about you, whispering the glories of Anthony as they go past. They see a bad end and great fortune for the one known as Alex. You're most amusing, Ant.”

I grabbed a handful of leaves from my plate and walked back to my room munching on them as I went.

I got back to my room, but the door had two faces on it now. My own and Calandri's. I pushed on the door, but it remained closed. Ok, that was annoying, what was I suppose to do until Calandri called me for training? I only knew a few places, and there was no way I wanted to go back to chat with crazy lady in the cafeteria.

I walked back down the hall and turned towards the antechamber. However instead of a door there was a hallway. Stopping, I looked behind me and saw the tree's of the cafeteria, and the row of bedrooms. Ahead of me there were a series of gates each one seemed to lead to something different. Maybe the antechamber was up ahead. I looked through each gate as I went. There was a howling snowscape, a black void, a forest, a sitting room, a barren mountain, a moss filled field, a grand dining hall, an armoury, a ball room, stairs leading nowhere, there was no rhyme or reason.

“Oh look Ant, it's you,” Paula said from behind me.

I jumped and automatically hunched over afraid of seeing her beady eyes. I couldn't handle it on my own, I needed help. I found myself gasping for air.

“Ant, turn yourself around,” she said sounding annoyed.

I felt a long graceful hand gently touch my shoulder, freezing my skin, turning me around. I couldn't resist, I looked up at her, shaking like a leaf. And I was shocked.

I was standing beside Paula, who was wearing a long flowing pink dress made of water and fire. But it wasn't me. And yet it was. There was a girl with my face, my body, even my hair right down to the silver bells in it. Yet she was shivering from cold, her skin was pale blue like a hypothermia victim, every breath was misty as if it were a bitterly cold winter morning. Her long skirt of ice left her breasts uncovered, the ice tinkled as she moved. Our eyes connected, I saw my fear reflected and magnified.

“Do you remember this, Ant?” Paula asked the blue me.

I, she shook her head, “No mistress. I never had red skin. Only this beautiful blue which matches your eyes mistress.”

Paula ran her finger over my arm, “You're quite right, if you were ever this ugly red, I think I'd have ordered the Lady to throw you to the dogs. It is quite vulgar.”

“Quite right, mistress, it is only from your mercy I have fared as well as I have. But if I resembled this leper, death would be far preferable,” blue me said, bowing low.

I looked at her, hurt and ready to cry. How many other me's were wandering this place wishing I was dead? A surge of hatred built inside of me. “What did you face? What made you frozen?” I asked, my voice harder than anytime I could remember.

Paula smirked. “You may tell her if you wish, Ant.”

She nodded and began speaking in a faint voice, “When I first performed for the fae, I walked through a field of ice and snow. Every move had to be perfect or I would freeze. By the end I was able to walk on snowflakes and dance over the skies. I have used those skills to entertain the Lord and Lady in banquets unnumbered and with the patronage of my mistress won myself free of cruel Calandri.”

The thin woman patted blue me on the head, like a child. “I can see from how you stand you don't have the skill my Ant has. You must be truly worthless.”

Fire flashed in my narrowed eyes. “I faced a flock of fire birds on a net. I killed their leader, and injured or killed the rest with a knife.” I pointed my finger at the shivering woman who claimed to be me. Words came to my lips that weren't mine, my fingers clenched around Crier. “I may not be graceful, I don't know how to dance. But I know how to kill. You're an ant, living in the dirt. I have seen another me, with skin like mine. She was a killer, neither of you are. You beg like dogs for table scraps, the person I will become will sit at the side of the fae demanding their respect.”

I spit at Paula's face.

The woman moved out of the way so smoothly it was as if she had practiced the movement for months. As I stared at her graceful body, amazed at how she moved like water, a blue foot slammed into my shoulder

I gasped, it felt like I'd been shot, my left side went numb. I saw blue me come forward, her feet barely touching the ground, her delicate foot flew at my head. I ducked, shifting away, my already numb shoulder flared in pain as her foot connected with it again. I rolled along the ground.

I saw red.

Paula and her pet came at me, their long flowing dresses hiding their deadly feet. Crier of Souls left it's sheathe. Their movement was unstoppable, it was a race between my blade and their bone breaking strike.

Paula screamed as the ebony blade sliced through her leg. She fell writhing in pain, her shrieks echoed in the marble hallway.

Ant faltered looking at her mistress. She turned on me, tears blinding her and lunged, all grace abandoned. I stumbled back my sword between us. I felt a jolt that ran right through my bodies. I saw my face, full of hate, fear and pain inches from mine. The fire in my mind turned into an inferno, I pulled the blade back with a sickening slurping sound.

Ant fell to the ground, unmoving.

I walked to Paula who was crying and begging.

“My name is Anthony I will remember you, as you deserve,” I said in another voice. The blade came down, the crying stopped. Cleaning Crier on a piece of melting ice cloth, I walked away looking once more at the gates.

**

I stepped into the ballroom having nowhere else to go, sheathing Crier, it looked abandoned. Cobwebs hung like curtains along the walls, and my already light footsteps were almost silent in the dust. Clouds of dust flew up with every step, swirling, in the air, half formed images of creatures, people and other less identifiable things. There was scuttling in the dim light, things burrowed and moved through the dust, claws scratched on the marble floor, or fluttered in the shadows, disappearing as I got close to them.

My shoulder was stiff and sore where Ant had kicked it. My breast was feeling better, but I could feel it swelling in the bra. I wondered if I could find the infirmary again, maybe someone there could tell me how to fix it.

The light shifted, plunging me in shadows and lighting the far corners of the massive room. The strange fire that had been burning inside of me, died away. I remembered the blood coming from the stomach of the other me. It had steamed against her skin. Her eyes had looked peaceful as I pulled the sword out.

Paula hadn't looked like that. She'd seemed shocked at what had happened, as if it was all a dream. Even as I'd put Crier into her skull she had been saying it wasn't real and begging me to stop. The slice had sounded like a cross of a club hitting a fishes head and grandpa chopping wood. The blood drying on my hands and legs didn't remind me of anything, it was just itchy and sticky, stretching my skin whenever I took a step or moved my hands. The dust stuck to it, making it seem like it was crawling over me, growing on me.

I started back for the door, it wasn't there anymore. In it's place was a wall of burnt diamonds, chipped and cracked covered in dust.

Crier came to my hand again.

Walking towards the light the dust got deeper, covering my soft shoes, coating my ankles, reaching my knees. The half formed figures grew, becoming misty, ghostlike images. I saw Paula, all in grey, she danced around me, stroking my body with spiderwebs, weeping spiders from her dusty orbs. I swung Crier at her, the ebony blade passed through the dusty body like air.

Sam rose from the dust, building up mote by mote. He glared at me, only moving when I moved, his hands were hidden in darkness. Flies flew around him, filling the air with their buzzing, coating my skin, feasting on the blood I was stained with.

Another dusty ghost danced in the air above me, jumping from one dusty patch of air to another. White bells of bone rattled in it's long hair.

I felt something brush my back, Calandri was there. Her red skin turned to dead white ash. Claws of rotten silk twined around me, caressing my body.

A man came forward, his body made of crumbling, drying paper, holding a rusted poker as I held Crier. He began stabbing and slashing at me, the poker missing my skin by a finger.

More figures came forward. Focusing on me, looking at me, trying to attack me, accusing me. Asking why I had killed them. I started to cry, dozens, hundreds of tears for each person killed. The dust soaked up my tears, becoming heavy, crumbling to the ground like a sandcastle in the rain. After an eternity, after shedding enough tears to fill an ocean, I was alone.

Calandri waited at the door, holding her hand out for me. “It is time to train my child. I hope you won't disappoint me, Anthony, I want you to make me proud.”

I saw her smile, she wanted me to do well. She thought I could do something properly. I raced to her side and clutched at her hand like it was a lifeline.

Please note, I am the original author of this story. It was posted originally over on TG Storytime under the pen name A. Kent, I'm now attempting to finish it here. While I appreciate emails saying someone has stolen my work, in this case everything is kosher.

I clung to Calandri's hand as we walked back to the center of the ball room. Every step she took caused a gust of hot wind to erupt in a circle around us, pushing the dust back, leaving a gleaming floor of red and blue marble. At the center of the room we stopped and she swept her ivory dress in a circle, sending the dust spiraling into the air. She looked up and blew a kiss, the dust began to glow like a soft blue like a million stars circling us.

“Now my sweet Anthony, we must begin to train you. But what shall you learn?” she asked, circling me.

I didn't know what to say, so I waited as she looked down at me. I was ready to learn anything she would teach me. Anything that would get me a few words of praise, anything that might make me stronger.

“Why do you carry that sword?”

“I gave it to myself,” I said, hoping that made sense.

She shook her head, “Who gave it to you doesn't matter. Why do you carry it?”

“I want to get stronger,” I told her.

She knelt down, stroking my cheek with her hot hand. “Why?”

I struggled to think of how to explain it to her. “I was brought here because I was too slow. Since I've come here, people have been doing things to me, and I can't stop them.”

Her red lips turned into a pout, “You don't want to be here?”

“I'm sorry, but I want to go home,” I answered, tears welling up in my eyes.

“Well Anthony, I will make you a deal. If you learn well, and dance for my liege and my lady, impressing them with your skill, I'll let you go home.” She placed her hand on my lips as I almost shouted in delight. “Nothing is done here for free, this is a bargain. If you don't try your hardest, you shall never go home. Are we agreed?”

I didn't resist, my arms went around her neck, “Yes, I agree!”

Calandri gently pushed me back. “Very well, let us begin.” Her hand rose, a yellow flame formed in her palm. She brought it to her lips, kissing it. It leaped from her palm, growing larger, shifting as it flew. It landed and stood up. It was me, but a me made of fire, sparks flew as it moved, a crackling sound filled the hall, smoke drifted from it's white eyes. It had it's own sword, but where Crier was dark black, it's sword blazed like the sun.

“Watch the doppelganger, Anthony. Watch it's steps and movements, then watch it again and copy it. If you fail, it will make you follow it, and I don't want to see that,” Calandri instructed me.

The doppelganger raised it's sword, bowed and twirled on it's toe. I copied it, with only the slightest wobble. My body was more graceful than I could have possibly imagined. We did it a second time, faster. If it was all like this, it would be easy.

The flaming creature spun, slashed with the sword, crouched down and jumped upwards, landing on one foot. I frowned, that was going to be hard to copy. Taking a deep breath I copied it, but as I landed, my leg wobbled and I had to put my other foot down as well.

It watched me somehow frowning without a face. It went through the motions again, slower this time. I copied it, but this time I crouched too low, my knee brushing the marble floor. It jerked it's sword at me, the fire flaring up around it. I turned to look at Calandri, hoping for support, she wasn't there.

I tried a third time, actually falling as I landed. My nerves were starting to act up, I couldn't get enough air. The flame circled me, touching my wrists, elbows, shoulders, waist, knees and ankles, instead of feeling heat, it was bitterly cold, I began to shiver. It went back to it's position.

As it repeated the steps, I felt my body following it. I stared at my limbs in amazement as I performed as beautifully as the flaming doppelganger. We did it five more times, each time I felt as if I had no control over my own body. Then it stopped and pointed at me.

I managed to copy it perfectly. The thing smiled at me, immediately before swinging its sword in a complicated pattern, of figure eights, slashes, throws and lunges. My body copied every motion. Three times we did it and again it stood back to let me try it on my own.

Then Crier fell from my hand on the second slash, landing with a clatter on the marble floor.

Flaming strings flew between the doppelganger and myself. Where it had touched me was now looped in warm flame. We performed again, and again, Then it was my turn once more. I stumbled and nearly impaled myself on Crier on the first throw. The flames became warm.

The lesson continued.

**

Time ceased to have any meaning, All I could focus on was the flame. When I did well the heat lessened, when I failed it got hotter. My red skin was charred black, my clothes ragged and glowing as the fire slowly melted them.

All my attention was on the doppelganger, watching it's every move, copying it, anticipating what it would try next. Anything that would make the flames die down a little. We raced around the ballroom, slashing, tumbling, jumping, kicking and many more moves I didn't have the words for. It was all about the movement.

The doppelganger suddenly vanished in smoke. My flaming strings were cut, and I collapsed whimpering as my flesh slowly cooled. Calandri was there by my side. She soothed my burns with a cloth that smelled of oranges. Where the cloth touched the blisters, cooked meat, and scorched skin healed. The memory of the pain faded to a distant memory. I hugged her, thanked her for stopping the pain.

“You did well my little dancer. Now return to the human section. Eat and rest, regain your strength for tomorrow,” she said.

I kissed her cheek and left.

**

I walked out of the ballroom back to the hallway, and stopped dead. It looked different now, instead of a boring hallway I was outside. Barren rocks and gravel surrounded me, and there was a small foot path winding its ways between the grey stones and puddles of muddy water. Looking back the ballroom wasn't there, a boulder as large as a house had taken its place. A cold wind blew constantly drying out my skin, the sun shone in the bitter blue sky, it seemed to suck the heat from the air.

Wrapping my arms around me, I hunched over trying to save whatever warmth was left in my body. There didn't seem to be any point in staying and freezing to death, I started walking down the path.

It didn't feel real, everything that had happened since I'd walked with Ryan into the woods seemed like a dream. Nothing made sense. I'd killed Paula and the other me, but I was having trouble remembering why I'd done it. The first time I stood before the Lord and Lady seemed like seconds ago. I remembered fighting Calandri, her claws ripping into my stomach, gutting me like a fish. I saw myself with glittering gold skin dancing for a creature that looked like a faun. I was starving at a banquet all the food that touched my lips or tongue turned to sand, laughter surrounded me. I was a boy again, walking on a leash performing tricks for a dog that walked like a man. My skin was peeled from my flesh, revealing a crying baby with eyes like a cat.

The path went through an eternity.

There were pretty lights ahead of me, they looked like the northern lights, waves of colour shifting, changing, never still, never the same. They danced in the air, whispering for me to follow them.

I danced with them, tasting the happiness of colours, seeing the bitter tears of sweetness, hearing the cursing of the cold sun. I laughed, it tasted like roses.

The northern lights stopped moving. They squealed with joy and flew into the sky chittering to themselves. I tried to follow them, cursing my lead feet that held me down. I was holding Crier, I would cut off my feet to follow them, my legs could go to, my body, my head. Who needed a body when you could fly like an angel?

A large hand grabbed my arm, forcing Crier back into it's sheath.

I howled. I needed to fly. If I flew I could go home. There was nothing here for me. I needed to fly.

Why couldn't I fly?

My eyes saw Sam's face.

A scream ripped it's way out of my lungs. He was snarling at me, eyes of writhing maggots dripped onto my face, crawling into my mouth, my nose, chewing on my eyes. I was chocking, drowning on their slimy, pulsating bodies.

He changed again, a dark faced angel of mercy. Cradling my head and shoulders, whispering things I couldn't understand. He looked so sad, so caring. I didn't know what was happening, even when my head jerked and there was a sharp snap, I barely felt any pain.

We started kissing. I felt something in me I'd never felt before. He was older, so was I. Our hands twined together, I never wanted it to end, our hair was grey, children laughed around us.

Crier was at his stomach, his metal clad hands circled my throat. We watched each other, hatred overflowing, betrayal raged in my heart. One of us was going to die.

“Anthony, come back to me,” Sam said patting my frozen cheek. “Concentrate on the now. Listen to me, those things you're seeing aren't you. They aren't happening.”

“What?” I whispered.

He smiled, “Ok, good you're back. Hold onto me, I'll get you back to your room.”

“Ok,” I said, not really understanding anything. I fell asleep dreaming of pretty lights as bugs ate my eyes.

**

The blankets were warm, I didn't want to leave them. It was so quiet and comfortable, like a bug in a rug. Best of all it was dark, I liked the darkness I couldn't see anything in it. I didn't want to see anything.

Some cruel person pulled the blankets back. I groaned, and tried to cover my eyes from the blinding lights. A large hand kept my hands on my stomach. I smelled something good. Keeping my eyes closed I tried to lean towards the smell. The hand stopped me again.

“What's your name?” Sam asked.

“I'm Anthony,” I said.

“Where are you?”

How could I answer that one? I had no idea. “Hell?”

“Good enough. How old are you?”

I tried to work some spit into my mouth, I was so dry. Finally I managed to answer. “Sixteen, I'll be seventeen in October.”

The hands finally let me up. “Alright, you're back in the right time. Are you hungry?”

I sat up and opened my eyes a crack. Sam was there with a tray, there were the usual strange leaves and sticks to eat, along with a steaming bowl of soup. My stomach growled and I almost lunged for the food, shoving a handful of leaves into my mouth.

“What happened?” I asked after my stomach stopped threatening to eat me.

Sam frowned, “You went somewhere you shouldn't have. You were in the outer part of the steading, where things stop making sense.”

I cocked my head in confusion, momentarily forgetting the spoon in my mouth.

“You know how I said humans keep the steading stable?” I nodded. “Well around the outer parts it isn't. Times and places mingle, becoming one and the same. You can never know what is going to happen or when something is going to happen. It just does without any rhyme or reason.”

Memories came to me in a confusing mess. Shaking my head I tried to clear my mind. “So the things I saw, what I did weren't real?”

“They were real. Just some of them haven't happened yet. Some of them happened to a different you. Some of them happened in the past, but you saw yourself in it's place,” Sam tried to explain.

“I saw you dead.”

He should have seemed surprised, upset, scared, at least upset. He didn't, he just nodded. “You killed me right?”

I nodded, unable to look him in the eyes.

“What else did you see?” he asked gently.

“We were kissing. Fighting. Calandri stabbed me in the stomach. I was starving. I was a pet. You killed me. It didn't make sense,” I sobbed.

“I had to pass through areas like that when I was with the wandering fair folk. The first few times, especially when you're scared or confused is hell, like what you had happen. The surer you are, the more confident you are, the easier it becomes.”

“What did you see?” I asked.

“Many things,” he answered looking at the far wall. “I don't remember much of it. I saw your face quite a few times.”

I wanted to ask him what we were doing, but from the look on his face I wasn't sure I should risk it. It was a confusing mix of happiness and fear. I looked down at the empty bowl of soup. I couldn't remember eating it, or even what it tasted like. “I killed Paula and me.”

His head snapped up, “In the outer area?”

I shook my my head. “Before that, in the hallway just to the right. I killed her and myself, before I started training with Calandri.”

“You killed yourself?”

“Yeah,” I said in a whisper. “I was blue and was acting like a slave to Paula. They were insulting me, and I got so angry. Then they were kicking me, and I somehow drew Crier and I-I killed them.”

His eyes lit up for a second as if he was remembering something. Then the light left them, and his wide shoulders sank a little. “Don't worry. If she had you with her, then it wasn't 'our' Paula. You'll be ok.”

“Our Paula?”

He ran his hand through his short hair. “It's confusing, just remember that everything you see may be real, but even the real stuff may not be in your reality. So you did kill her, which I would love to see, but you'll still see Paula wandering around, being a bitch here.”

I wasn't sure how to feel about that. Now that I was able to think again, I was having trouble keeping the sight of the blood and the feel of the blade cutting into them from my mind. I still wanted to throw up. If it wasn't her, did that make me a killer? But if I was a killer, I'd rather not have to deal with the woman I killed everyday.

My mind started circling around that. Could I be a killer if the person wasn't dead? I looked at my skin, it was so close to the colour of blood. Crier had said I was a fighter, I'd killed people. The blue me, she'd been ready to beat me to death just for spitting at Paula. Was I destined to killed people. I wasn't sure I'd want to live if that was the case.

“Hey Anthony,” Sam said, snapping his fingers to get my attention. “How about I show you around the human section a little more. You haven't really seen much yet, there's a lot more to see.”

Standing up, I realized I was wearing my nightgown. My cheeks turned red as I thought about Sam changing me. “Just let me get dressed, please,” I squeaked in embarrassment.

“Ok, don't be long,” Sam said taking the tray and leaving the room.

I was forced to wear the only outfit that wasn't skin tight, a brilliant blue sleek gown that showed too much cleavage and had a slit up to my thigh. I really hated my choice of clothing, even as it amazed me, every step made fluffy white clouds flow across the fabric making it look like I was wearing the sky. It looked so real I tried to touch them, only feeling sleek fabric and my body underneath. I stepped out to meet Sam, trying to ignore how much skin I was showing.

Sam nodded his approval when he saw I had Crier at my side. I hadn't even thought about it, I just did automatically. Which was really strange, I couldn't even remember to grab my homework in the morning. Following him down the hall, we stopped at the corner.

“Now listen very carefully. The left always goes to the cafeteria, no matter what,” Sam said. “But the right changes depending on how you turn, unless you're following someone on an errand. When you're on your own, unless you want to get lost like you did today close your eyes and step forward with your left foot. That will lead you to the antechamber.”

I looked at him like he was crazy. “You're serious?”

“Deadly serious.”

We closed our eyes and stepped around the corner making sure to use lead with our left foot. I opened my eyes again and saw we were once more in the antechamber. The noise was as bad as ever, but I stiffened my spine and didn't cling to Sam. “Can we go somewhere peaceful?”

He knocked on the door, “Park.”

We entered a landscape of tree's that were a riot of colours, green birds recited poetry in tree's of red. A warm breeze blew through the tall furry grass, it sounded like flutes. A waterfall of pink and yellow water sounded like sleigh bells as it hit the rocks below. Flowers purred like kittens, caressing our ankles as we walked.

Sitting down under a weeping willow, Sam began weaving glass flowers into my hair. His thick fingers should have been too large to do it, but he managed to do it without a single mistake.

“What were you like?” I asked.

His fingers stopped. Turning to look at him I saw confusion written on his face. “When you were a girl, what were you like?” I repeated.

His eyes went down, staring at a large caterpillar that was smoking a pipe. “I was vain. I was the middle child of a family too large to support itself, and I was pretty. I only had cheap, stained clothes but I made sure they were cleaned as much as possible. I would fix my long, black hair in the latest styles even when my sisters and friends laughed at me. I was going to leave my home, become an actress or maybe the wife of a rich, handsome man.” He looked at his massive, scarred hand, and snorted in contempt.

“I would wander through the hills of my home looking for herbs, crushing and boiling them to rub on my skin to keep it smooth. We couldn't afford lipstick or make up, so my friends and I would use berry juice, or we'd get one of the boys going into town to steal us some. If he succeeded we would all give him a kiss while wearing it.”

He looked at me, “Do you think I could still get a boy to do that now?”

“I know one or two who might,” I told him. “Samantha isn't your real name is it?”

He shook his head. “No, it was the name of a friend I had when I travelled through the steadings of the US. I took it to honour her, so I'd never forget her.”

Watching him I saw his hands were again rubbing against his legs. I could hear his callouses rasping over his skin, it grew faster, harder.

“You had to fight her?”

He nodded jerkily. “We beat up a slave who had insulted us. His owner turned out to be very powerful. So to repay the incident we had to fight each other, it was suppose to be to first blood. We'd fought each other before, so we looked at it as a game, a challenge.” He stopped rubbing his hands, he held them up to his face tears fell freely.

“We were each given a dagger and a silver gauntlet. We fought for over ten minutes without cutting the other. We were bruised from kicks and punches, but the dagger always seemed to miss our flesh. Finally I managed to nick her leg. It wasn't a large cut, I'd gotten worse paper cuts. But it bled. It bled like a river, and it didn't stop.” He wiped the tears from his face.

“I tried to help her, but there was nothing I could do. The fair folk watched from the sides laughing as I cried, and Samantha screamed. My master congratulated me on fighting so well.”

His shoulders shook and the tears returned. I did what was natural, and hugged him to me as he cried himself out. I didn't say anything, just held him to me as he shook and sobbed. I'd never been good dealing with crying people. Before coming here I couldn't imagine seeing a guy crying like this, but now I just waited for him to finish, letting him find some relief.

Finally he stopped crying. His shoulders weren't as tense as they usually were, some of the anger had left his eyes. “I'm sorry, it's just, no one ever talks about things like this. And-and you're the first person who realized.”

“Don't worry Sam. I understand. When you were at home what did they call you?”

His eyes looked far away, as if trying to remember. “It was Alejandra.”

“Pretty name, for a pretty girl.”

“It was a lifetime ago. I'm not her anymore,” he said, his voice going flat.

I stood up. “Let's go somewhere else.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Somewhere with at least one other nice person, Is there anywhere like that?”

Sam nodded. “I know someone you might like.”

We stepped back out into the fleshy antechamber. Sam knocked on the door again, “Entertainment room.”

The door opened to something out of an art class. There were tables and benches scattered almost randomly all around the curved room. They were covered in paints, clay, sticks, papers and things I couldn't identify. The tables sat oddly on the floor they were actually at thirty, forty even ninety degree angles as they sat on the curving glass floor, yet nothing fell off them. I looked up and realized the tables were on the ceiling to. A woman was up there staring at something, her long hair wasn't even falling down.

“Come on, lets see what Mrs. Jones is up to,” Sam said.

“How?”

He took my tiny hand in his. “We walk.”

I figured we'd fall on the glass floor, it looked as slick as ice and there was no way we'd be able to make it up to the ceiling. But as I put my foot on the glass it seemed like I was walking on gravel, in the soft, cloth slippers I was wearing it actually hurt my feet a little. The room seemed to move as we walked, like walking inside a big ball. After looking up once and almost getting sick as the tables moved around us, I kept my eyes on the ground. The shifting shadows just barely visible through the thick glass seemed to be coming towards us. They shifted size, splitting apart, coming back together, circling Sam and I, becoming darker only to fade back slowly. Was that how a goldfish thought saw us?

I almost walked into the table, I'd been watching the shadows so closely. Mrs. Jone's wasn't watching us, she was so intent on two dolls she was making out of play-doh and sticks.

“Hey Mrs. Jones, I want you to meet someone,” Sam said softly, lowering his and drawing out the vowels like he was talking to a small child. “This is Anthony, she just got here.”

“Hi, Mrs. Jones,” I said, clutching my elbows.

She looked at us, her hair was damp, and her cheeks looked wet and wrinkly, like your fingers and toes when you've been in the water too long. “Hello Anthony, do you want to see my children?” she asked.

“Ok,” I said trying to hide a grimace. Was everyone crazy?

She pointed at the clay dolls, they were clearly a boy and girl. “This is my son, Peter, he is ten years old. Doesn't he look strong? And this is my beautiful daughter, Amber, she is so smart, all the teachers love her. How old are you dear?”

“I'm sixteen.”

“You're the same age as Amber. I'm sure you'll be best friends. Say hello Amber, this is your new friend Anthony,” she said to the doll.

I wondered how I was suppose to talk to clay when the doll stood up. It was a little wobbly since it's feet were just thin sticks but it stood up and gave me a stiff wave. It's tiny red lips smiled. My jaw dropped in disbelief. I watched as the little creatures smile started to falter, I thought I heard Mrs. Jones begin to sob, but I couldn't say anything. A finger jabbed me in the ribs hard enough to hurt, and my brain started to work again. “Hello, Amber. Are you having fun today?”

The doll nodded before turning to help her 'brother' up. Mrs. Jones clapped her hands together like a little girl. “I knew it! I knew it! You'll make great friends, and I'm certain you'll keep her out of trouble. Not like that little pointy eared friend she made who led her into the woods. If it wasn't for that mean little girl, we wouldn't have gotten into trouble now would we. No we wouldn't, no we wouldn't.”

She smiled up at me. “Anthony... I had a good friend when I was a girl call Anne. Can I call you Anne. Anne, if you ever need any help, just come to my room and Amber or Peter can help you if I'm not around. Peter is very strong, and Amber is very clever. All her teachers say so.” Her smile faltered a bit. “Of course they don't talk much anymore, you'd think a cat had their tongue. But if you need to talk I'd love to have a little chat with you. You're too young for coffee, but I have some wonderful tea and chocolate. I can fix your hair, it goes so well with your skin. It looks just like Amber's skin used to.”

I looked at my dark red skin, but decided that shutting up was a good idea right now.

Before the strange monologue could continue, someone landed on the table. I looked up to see Paula, she'd somehow jumped from the floor to the ceiling. My mind couldn't quite comprehend what was happening. I had killed her, but she was there. I had felt her blood on my hands, but here she was perfectly healthy. A large part of me was glad that I wasn't a killer, but I still realized that I had killed her, another her. I had no idea what to say or do.

Mrs. Jones solved the problem by shrieking.

I looked down and saw that Paula's foot had crushed Amber. Her tiny stick legs kicked feebly and then stopped moving.

Sam's massive hand grabbed Paula's leg and threw her across the room.

Paula was going fast enough that she should have hit the wall and splattered like a bug. But as she flew through the air, the woman spun, hitting the curving floor feet first, her horribly long limbs bent as she landed then sprang forward as if her limbs were springs. Her face was contorted in rage.

I watched as Sam turned to his side, his arms raised, one foot forward ready to slap her down. At the last second, Paula grabbed a table leg sending her flying under the table, her body contorted so she slid around the table legs, brushing them with her hands and feet to change her direction. Her thin leg snapped out catching Sam behind the knee. I winced at the sound of bone hitting flesh.

He fell to his knee with a grunt of pain. An arm that would make Popeye proud rose up stopping a vicious kick aimed for his face. I moved forward not entirely sure what I was going to do, but certain I had to help. I started drawing my sword, I'd killed her once, I could kill her again.

I never even saw the fist that hit my face. One second I was moving forward and the next I was on my back spitting out teeth, fighting back the tears. I'd felt a lot of pain over the last day or two, but as the gritty blood ran down my throat making me want to vomit, I had to admit that it hurt, a lot.

There were thuds and slaps as the dancer and the gladiator fought. They didn't scream or yell, they just grunted in pain or effort. I was left wondering how I could possibly have managed to kill the other Paula. Sitting up, I finally saw what was happening. Sam was covered in small bruises, his lip was split, there was a gash over his eye, and he held one hand as if it was sprained. Paula wasn't winning though. The entire left side of her face was a massive bruise, I couldn't tell if she could see even see out of her eye. I drew Crier.

“Don't kill her!” Sam yelled at me.

“Why not?!”

He glanced at me, “We'll die if she di-”

Paula brought a chair down on his head, cutting off his last words. I watched as Sam's arms dropped to his side, he swayed like a tree in the wind. With agonizing slowness he fell to his knees and then fell face first to the floor. I probably imagined it, but it seemed like the floor shook.

With her lips curling from bruises, Paula looked down at me. “What did you do Ant?” she spit. “I know it was you, what did you do to me?!”

I shook, I was as terrified as Mrs. Jones who was wailing behind me cradling her 'daughter'. If I killed this Paula, Sam and I would die. Without Crier I had no chance against her, she'd taken out Sam I was a dead man.

“W-what do you mean?” I whispered.

“I can't talk to myself. You did something to me. How did you do it?” Her hand lashed out, knocking Crier from my hand.

“I didn't do anything.”

Her hand circled my throat. Long fingers as hard as iron cut off my air, nails that felt as sharp as razors drew blood. I was pushed back onto a table, jars of paint were knocked aside. “You lie. Swear yourself to me, and I'll help you. I'll keep you alive. If you don't, I'll make your life a living hell until you beg me to kill you, until you are licking my shoes in the hopes that I'll end your living nightmare.”

My lips moved. I couldn't beat her. She'd beaten Sam, she'd gotten rid of Crier before I could do anything. If I did kill her I'd be killing myself somehow. I hadn't even seen how she'd fought, she had moved so quickly. I was useless, helpless.

I saw the blue me, following Paula meekly, a slave, but she'd been safe, alive. The fighter who'd given me Crier, she'd been so tired, so sad, you could see it in her eyes. What was the point of fighting, it was like Grandma had told me the other day, I was useless.

Give up.

“I-I,” I tried to speak but couldn't get enough air in my lungs to form the words. The hand loosened a little.

“I can't hear you Ant. Speak louder,” Paula said, jabbing a finger hard into my stomach causing me to cry out in pain.

“I swe-”

The clay doll Peter jumped onto Paula's face, uselessly hitting her with it's tiny stick arms. I sat up coughing, just in time to watch Paula grab the little doll. She squeezed it, it's arms and legs snapped, and the clay body oozed through her fingers.

Mrs. Jones screamed like someone was ripping her heart out.

Paula turned on me again. “Swear, you vile little ant.”

My heart was pounding like a drum as I threw a jar of paint at her. The glass container shattered against her arm, covering her sweat stained, yellow leotard, a dark red. I wasn't sure who was more surprised me or her. It didn't make much of a difference, she dodged the next two paint jars, letting them shatter against the wall.

Paula moved like lightening, her fist cracking down on the table where I'd been a millisecond before. I grabbed her arm, biting it as hard as I could, not stopping even as blood filled my mouth. She screamed flinging me away, with the sound of tearing cloth and muscle. There was the sensation of flying upwards, followed by a second of weightlessness, then I was plummeting to the ground above me. I twisted in the air like a cat, landing on my my fingers and toes, like I'd been taught earlier by my fiery double.

The freak leapt through the air like a spider, leaving a trail of blood from her arm. Landing on her hands she swung her legs in a vicious kick sending the canisters of paint, clay and paint brushes shooting through the air. I felt the tip of her foot graze my neck, leaving a burning sensation from the speed alone.

Diving under the nearest table, scrambling away, I didn't hear her. The only noise was the crying of the crazy woman above us. The silence was scarier than hearing her. I needed to know where she was if I was to avoid her.

I found her, actually she found me. The table buckled in the middle just behind me. Long arms grabbed my wrists, pulling up and out, stretching me arms like I was crucified. Within seconds it felt like my shoulders were dislocated. My shoulder blades ground against the table, I could hear my tendons stretching.

My feet touched the ground. With a scream I shoved the table up off the ground. For a second we were perfectly balanced, then the table started to tilt to the right. The strong hands let go, I felt the weight above me shifting, as Paula got ready to jump away.

Twisting my hand I grabbed her right arm. She pulled hard, almost dragging my hand under the table edge, but there wasn't enough time. Her hand was caught with a vicious crunching sound. I rolled over ready to break every one of her fingers. When the table slammed into my face. I saw stars, then I saw Paula. Her fingers formed a blunt knife heading straight for my stomach. I didn't have time to think, my hands grabbed a table leg, pulling me forward. The hand came down between my legs, catching my inner thigh. A real knife probably would have hurt less.

It didn't stop me though. Scurrying along the ground I went under chairs, swung around table legs and ran over tables, as Paula chased after me. Her long legs and arms let her move faster, and her hands were never less than a foot behind me. I couldn't think, if it looked like it would slow her down even a fraction of a second I did it. I was gulping for air, I couldn't keep going. I needed a weapon because she was going to catch me any second. How could she keep going like that?

There was a thump, followed by a cry of pain.

I looked behind me to see Paula lying on the ground a large foot grinding her into the ground. I'd never been so happy to see someone in my life. Sam was standing there, a pained grimace on his battered face. He looked at me, the hate turned to something else, it was distant, he seemed smaller, less sure.

“Paula, I don't know why you hate Anthony so much, but this can't keep going on, or someone is going to die. Anthony come here,” he said. I walked over, carefully watching Paula's arms. I didn't like the tone in Sam's voice, it was so soft and weak. He sounded like my Dad had sounded when he'd lost his job a few years ago, hopeless.

“Both of you swear on your honour, and your lives that you will not harm the other one,” Sam said.

“Like hel-” Paula's words were cut off in a scream of pain as Sam's foot pressed down on her spine.

“Why? Why not just kill her now. I've killed her before,” I said, my words slurred badly as I tried to talk around broken teeth and a rapidly swelling cheek.

Sam covered his eyes, and Paula looked at me with a strange mix of hatred and fear. “If you don't swear I'll walk away right now and let you and Paula finish things. Paula, if you don't swear I'll snap your back right now and the Lady can kill me as many times as she likes, I won't care. Now both of you Swear!”

“I swear on my honour and my life, I won't kill Paula.” It was the hardest thing I ever said. From the look of it, it was even harder for Paula as she spit out the words.

Sam nodded, removing his foot from her back. “Now maybe we can get some peace around here. Paula you use the infirmary first, don't be too long, we'll be coming in whether you're done or not in ten minutes.”

Paula stood up and with as much dignity as she could muster, walked out of the room. As soon as she was gone, Sam sank into a chair, holding his head. “I didn't think you'd be so much trouble when I saw you, even with everything I've seen. But you're going to get me killed,” he said, it didn't sound like a joke.

Mrs. Jones came running up. Her face was wet with tears, but there was a smile on her face. “Oh Amber, you did so well fighting off that nasty, nasty lady. But you're hurt, here let me help you.”

I let her guide me to a chair, as she tried to fix the minor nicks and cuts, crying in horror at my swollen and discoloured cheek, and the handprints on my neck. “I knew you'd come back to me, Amber. I never gave up hope. And now you're here. I won't let anything happen to you ever again. I'll be a good mother now. Trust me. Please trust me this time.”

There weren't any words left in me. My body was on fire. Leaning into her chest, my arms circled her neck and I cried.

Mrs. Jones wouldn't let go of my hand as Sam and I went to the infirmary. Having Sam at my side and the crazy woman who suddenly decided I was her daughter hugging me, made the rasping, purple antechamber more bearable. I needed the help, I wasn't as hurt as Sam, but my cheek was swollen to the size of a tennis ball and the blood dripping down my throat, despite all the spitting I was doing had given me a bad stomach ache.

Sam refused my offer of a shoulder, insisting that he didn't need the help. Considering his size I was secretly grateful. As soon as we entered the empty infirmary Sam dunked his head into a pool of liquid sunlight. The yellow fluid didn't move smoothly, it seemed to stutter, moving abruptly, freezing, moving again, freezing, Sam did the same, it was like a video game on a bad connection or a ghost from a horror movie. When he was covered up to his ears, the stuff began throwing tendrils over his scalp, crawling in the same stuttering fashion until his head was completely covered.

Mrs. Jones pushed me into a seat, and started looking through the plants and bottles that filled the room with no apparent order. I couldn't take my eyes off of Sam, his head had been in the liquid for at least a minute, didn't he need to breathe?

I jerked back with a shout as a slug come close to my face. “Don't worry Amber,” Mrs. Jones said. “This will help you cheek. It eats the pain.”

The slug was the size of my hand, the bottom side which I'd seen first was the ugly mottled grey of most slugs. It's top half was a riot of colours, pink spots, black strips, with orange, bright blue, red and green covering the rest of it. I bit my tongue to keep from screaming when I saw its' eyes. They were on giant candy cane stalks, they turned to me, tiny, brown, human eyes looked at me. They glistened with slime.

My eyes closed to keep from vomiting. Mrs. Jones took that as acceptance, I felt the cold, slimy creature crawl onto my cheek. To keep from running I pinched my legs, hard. The pain kept me distracted for the few seconds I needed before the slug went to work.

The throbbing ache in my cheek flowed out of me. I could feel the pain drawing away from the edge of the bruise, concentrating into a needle of agony at the center of the bruise. I was about to scream as tears leaked out of my tightly clenched eyes, then it pierced my skin and started to vanish. The throbbing lessened, in less than a minute the pain was gone. The slug let go leaving only a cold slimy spot on my cheek.

My fingers brushed the bruise, finding only smooth skin and a lot of slime. Opening my eyes, Mrs. Jones was beaming, “See silly, I told you it would make the pain go away. You should trust your mother. Now, how are your teeth.”

The teeth were still shattered but they didn't hurt, they were just numb as if they'd been frozen at the dentist. “Still broken,” I slurred.

“I have just the thing for you,” she said, bending down to look under a bush.

As she did that, I looked at Sam who was still face first in the liquid. He was slowly tapping his fingers. A funny image of a man getting bored as he tried to drown himself popped into my head. My mom would have been horrified at that thought, I would have been disturbed by it. Now, now I just let myself smile and started making comics in my head of people asking death to hurry up, or looking at their watch as they were about to die.

Mrs. Jones came back holding something in her hand along with three pieces of wood. “Here Amber, hold a piece of wood in both hands, then close your eyes and open your mouth. These will help your teeth but you might not like them at first.”

Thinking about the slug I hurriedly closed my eyes as I obeyed, hoping whatever it was wouldn't be slimy. The wood was smooth and very light, it seemed to shift to better fit my hands. She placed the third smaller block of wood in my mouth and told me to bite down, which I did. The wood was followed by a bunch of hard balls each one about the size of a pea. This wasn't so bad, I thought.

Then the pea's started walking over my tongue. I freaked out, trying to force the little things, Mrs. Jones kept my head still with a surprisingly firm grip, the wood in my mouth kept me from spitting, or moving my tongue. Somehow the wood in my hands seemed to gain weight, becoming too heavy to lift and I couldn't even open my hands to let them fall. I was totally immobile from the weight. The things inside me walked over to my teeth, a crunching, chewing sound filled my head. They ate my shattered teeth, and I could feel them crawling into my gums. I wanted to scream, but only a low moan came out. They burrowed into my flesh, and started to swell up, pressing against the holes they'd made in my gums, against each other and against the unbroken teeth around them. Finally they stopped moving.

“Open your mouth,” the crazy lady said, wiggling the wood that was now severely cracked and and dented from my teeth.

As soon as my mouth was free I dropped the wood in my hand, trying to shake some feeling back into them. As I did that my tongue gingerly touched the formerly shattered teeth, they had been replaced by something else. The things were generally tooth shaped, but they didn't feel like enamel, they felt more like a beetle shell. I pressed one as hard as I could, it wiggled a little, and something below the gumline squirmed sending pinpricks of pain through my mouth.

I stopped investigating after that. I was already on the verge of hitting myself with a hammer to get them out of me. “Thanks, Mrs. Jones,” I said.

The beaming smile dropped from her wet, wrinkly face. “Thank you, Mom!” I almost shouted.

Instantly the smile returned, and I was enveloped in a huge hug, I returned it. Where I had cried in her arms earlier, now she cried on my shoulder. Sam finally raised his head, the wounds on his face had healed and his eyes were able to focus on me properly, his skin was unnaturally shiny though, and some of the liquid was stuck in his short hair. He was smiling when he saw me and Mrs. Jones.

I smiled back, but didn't say anything, neither did he. I watched him fix up the rest of his injuries, using the slug on his sprained hand, rubbing orange bark on his cuts, and chewing a leaf to a pulp before rubbing it on his smaller bruises.

“Come on you two, we're all done here,” Sam said as his bruises slowly faded back to his natural dark colour. “Lets go have a shower we need it.”

A shower would be nice. I'd been using the tiny bathroom in my room which had a sink and some spare towels, but a sponge bath never made me feel really clean. After everything that had happened, I wanted to be as clean as possible.

“Mrs.- uh Mom, can you let go? I need to have a shower,” I said, gently pushing my hugger away.

She reluctantly let go. “You'll be ok, won't you? And you'll come talk to me afterwards? I know you have you're own room, but please visit me. Don't disappear like you did before”

I saw the desperation in her teary, bloodshot eyes. My mom would say she was hanging by a thread, and honestly so was I. She was crazy, but there wasn't any need to control me or demands to be met. “Yeah, I'll be there for you. Don't you disappear on me either.”

With one last sloppy kiss on the cheek she left first. Sam and I followed half a minute later, again Sam knocked and asked for the showers. The door opened into a surprisingly normal looking hallway, to the left was a picture of a naked woman, and the right had a naked man, They looked like something out of a text book, bored and boring. With a little wave Sam and I split up, I hoped I wouldn't see Paula.

There was a rack of towels to one side, along with house coats, I tried to find one that would fit me, but they were all the same size and made for adults. They were also weird fluorescent colours that made my eyes water. Finally I grabbed an electric blue one and walked into the shower area.

It was a wide open room, with about thirty shower heads close to the walls, There was a cupboard beside each shower presumably for clothes and towels. I wasn't very comfortable with the idea of being naked when anyone could walk in. I always hated gym class because of the showers, and this was a thousand times worse. But I needed to get the blood and sweat off of me. Maybe if I did it really quickly no one would walk in.

I stripped out of my clothes, hanging them up in the cupboard as I did so putting Crier in last so I could reach him easily, and turned on the shower. The water was perfect, not too hot or too cold. My tense muscles immediately started to loosen under the gentle pressure. I pressed a button on the side of the shower that showed a pair of hands. The water turned soapy, and a soft sponge appeared in my hands.

I spent the next ten minutes washing myself. It was the first time I'd really looked at my new body. I had quickly wiped myself off before but I'd always done it with the lights out, or after going to the bathroom with my eyes shut. It wasn't so bad.

In the shower, under the harsh yellow light with no way to disguise myself or pretend I was someone different. The old me was dead and gone. I realized something very important then, I hated my body and everything it meant.

**

Sam and I didn't say anything as we walked back to our rooms. We were both wearing bathrobes, the bloodied clothes we'd been wearing had absolutely no appeal. I saw Sam throw his into a hole at the entrance of the showers, so I'd followed suit. Although I was going to have a problem now as the only clothes I had left were so tight and revealing that they were virtually painted on and shorts so tiny they were almost bikini's.

I peered at each of the faces on the doors looking for Mrs. Jones' room, Sam noticed it and pointed at the right one halfway down the hall. As we passed it I saw that it looked polished and sparkly next to the other faces. My own metal face wasn't nearly as bright, it was tarnished, like dried blood, on top of a scowling face.

Did I look like that?

With a tired smile at Sam I entered my room and closed the door on him and the outside. I needed to be alone. I should have been hungry, it had been hours since I'd eaten but I wasn't. With the way things worked here my inner clock had no idea what was happening when, and my own mind couldn't make much of a schedule when things kept changing. So I just put on my nightgown and laid down.

Crier was waiting for me.

“You have strange enemies and stranger friends,” the tall man said. “I'm not sure which is which all the time.”

I looked up, he was on a balcony of a strange building. Take a building from ancient China, the really old brick castles from the Middle East, an English castle, they pyramids in Mexico, a mansion, and a small mountain, then cut them into little chunks and mix them together in a big pot. After they've melted around the edges pour them out and put them together with a blindfold. That was what the building looked like.

Crier stood on a thin upside down stone balcony, he tilted his head up to look down at me, his dark eyes glistened with tears. He stepped onto a marble stone case which twisted up and over rough stone steps leading into a building with the curved brown roofs you see in China. Entering the building he appeared before me pushing open a dusty door in a pale brown brick wall.

“Where were you?” I asked.

He cocked his head like a cat. “I was with you all along. Did you not feel me at your side? Taste the blood I shed for you? Felt my strength in your arms?”

“I mean I didn't see you when I slept. I thought you were suppose to be training me,” I explained.

“I cannot train one who is so exhausted they cannot think. I cannot come when your mind is fogged and guarded,” Crier explained. “But do not think that I stood idly by. How do you think you vanquished two enemies? With your skill? Hardly,” he said, his lip curling, showing me his bloody teeth. “You are good at scampering. You can learn. But you are still weak. You almost surrendered to your enemy this day, denying my help. You have much to learn. So tonight we train.”

A chill wind blew through a grim stone doorway, I saw the possible future me, her blue skin splashed with red, step into the daylight. Her eyes were gone, leaving two weeping holes in her face. Where she stepped ice and frost formed, on graceful legs she circled me, her arms began moving creating patterns of frost in the air, hiding her movements behind the ever growing glittering shapes.

“Your enemies take many forms,” Crier said. “They hide their movements behind trickery, minions, lies, and smiles. To survive you must learn to see through the lies. To work by feel and instinct when all about you is false and your own eyes are blind.”

I saw my enemy move towards me, I slashed downwards hoping to cut her leg. Her hand lashed out, slapping me across the face, instead of feeling hot, my face turned ice cold. I brought my sword back up, swinging a little wildly, but my doppelganger simply jumped back, easily avoiding me. The wind laughed.

“Strike too soon, you will fall into a trap. Make mistakes. Fail, Failure means death or defeat so bad you will wish you were dead,” Crier yelled from the top of a pyramid.

Knowing that she would use kicks, I started moving backwards into a hallway with paper like walls. She followed me smiling. Figures appeared on the walls, ink drawings. One man was in all of them, I could tell it was him because of his eyes, they glowed with hatred. Sometimes he was armed only with a stick, other times he had a suit of armour and a weapon dripping blood. He moved in an intricate dance, enemies came at him. He fought on, he was stabbed, beaten, bloodied, but he was never broken. He would fight until numbers overwhelmed him, and as he died he would take his killer with him.

I saw all of this in the blink of an eye.

The walls were plain white once more, the woman came forward. She stomped and slid her feet at random, moving forward and jumping back, looking for an opening. I kept Crier between us, waiting for her to make a mistake.

Crier clapped. “Good, you have changed the battle ground. Do not face your opponent in his area of strength, or you will be forced to risk all to win. And even if you win, you have still lost something.”

A small stab from me made the woman jump back. As her toes touched the ground, she grabbed a round wooden post and swung through the thick paper wall. Before I could even comprehend what she was doing, her feet slammed through the wall beside me. I flew through a third wall, Crier fell from my numb hand, as I landed with a painful crunch.

Still blinking stars from my eyes, a foot came down on my throat just hard enough to cause some pain. I looked up at the blue woman staring at me with her eyeless sockets. Crier stood beside her.

“Always watch your surroundings. Expect attacks from all angles and you will never be surprised,” he handed me my sword, and helped me up. “Let's try again.”

**

It seemed like it was days later. I watched my other self jumping from one marble pillar to the next, her face turning in all directions looking for me. She was coming towards me, unsure were I was hiding. The round attic window was dark enough to hide even my red skin. As she came to the balcony below my window, I jumped down not making a sound.

She somehow saw me, her foot lashed out, catching my wrist. My hand went numb and Crier flew down to the stones below. The woman smiled as her hand went back ready to strike me as she'd hit me so many times before.

Shifting my weight, I brought my left hand down on her skull. The brass candle holder I'd been holding smashed through the bone, dust flew from her skull covering me. The woman stopped moving, her frozen blue skin turned to ice, cracks spread from the wound, flesh turned to snow and blew away in the wind.

Crier stood at my side. “Good, do not do what is expected. Use whatever it takes to win. Only by fighting as hard as you can do you honour your opponent. Use hatred, falsehood, cunning, trickery, love, anything to win. Only then will you truly be free.”

Looking into his darkly glowing eyes I asked a question. “Who's next?'

I woke up in my room. Criers laughter echoed in my ears.

The days went past strangely and quickly for me. Sometimes I'd be woken by Sam to be shown how things worked, or just to relax and talk. He never talked about his home, but he'd listen to me talk about my family and my old life. He introduced me to more of the humans, but most of them were lost in their own little worlds, or running errands and doing tasks for their masters, making it difficult to really know them.

We stared down Paula a few times, but she kept to her word and left me alone. That was fine by me. I never wanted to be her enemy in the first place. Still whenever I saw her, my hand would fall to Crier and the fire would rush through me. Sam got into the habit grabbing my shoulder and leading me away whenever she appeared. He claimed he could hear my teeth grinding from across the room whenever I looked at her.

Another thing Sam and I did ,was train. He said it was to make sure I didn't turn to Crier whenever there was a fight, killing people could make their owners very angry. But as we trained I noticed he was watching how I moved making me go through the motions of what Crier and Calandri taught me. I learned a lot from him as well, how to block, punch, and kick, but when I watched him training by himself he was preparing for fighting someone who moved and jumped a lot, like Paula, or me. By the fifth session I changed my style to something more direct and head on.

Calandri summoned me everyday, she would summon the flame and I would practice moving. At first there was no real rhyme or reason to the motions, if I was learning a dance it made no sense simply a series of movements that didn't match. One day I'd be spinning a baton or fan in an eye watering pattern so quickly my hands were a blur. The next it would be something easier like leaping and landing in a certain way.

As she watched me, the training did change, and so did my wardrobe. Instead of tights and short skirts, there were now loose flowing skirts and dresses that reached my ankles, with wide sleeved blouses that hid my hands. I hated them as much as I hated my body. I felt exposed, I didn't like the way my legs touched each other, it reminded me even when I wasn't looking in the mirror that I was a girl, that I was weak. After she saw me in my first dress, the tights and leotards vanished entirely from my wardrobe.

With the dresses I was taught how to kick, spin, and jump so that my legs weren't seen until the last second if at all. I learned to hold fans or ribbons hidden in my hands or sleeves waiting for the big reveal. Learning to react rather than think was the hardest part. That was where Crier came in.

It seemed every time I closed my eyes he was waiting. Each time there would be a new opponent and I would fight him or her until I won. Throughout it all Crier would call out lessons, sometimes on how to hold a sword, block a thrust, dodge a strike, disarm an enemy, and more. Other times it was tactics and strategies, ways to think, how to plan, always seeking the victory even if I was forced to retreat. Even a short nap would seem like a day of training, and it was brutal. They would break my arms, slash my eyes, stab me, gut me, kill me. It always hurt, and each time after that split second of pain, I'd be on my feet again whole and unharmed, determined to avoid the pain a second time.

I learned so much from all of them. How to fight, how to move, how watch and react without thought. I walked as quietly a snowflake falling through the sky, flickered like a candle flame in the breeze, never where someone was expecting me, I grew strong, learned to accept pain, and learned to handle fear by always knowing what was around me.

There was a single place were all of those lessons fell away.

“Amber, how are you doing today?” Mrs. Jones said, as I walked into her room.

“I'm ok. How are you Mom?” I asked. Over the endless days it was becoming natural to call her mom.

She wasn't looking at me, too busy digging through her dresser for some cookies. I didn't know where she got them from but she always had some. The newest ones turned out to be peanut butter. “I'm fine, Amber. I've been keeping myself busy helping out around the town. How about you? How is school going?”

“I'm learning lots of things,” sword fighting, dancing, martial arts, wrestling, killing. “My teachers are really good.”

She patted me on the head and started making some tea, with boiling hot water from the sink. “I know they are, and they haven't given me a single complaint this year. You're doing so much better than last year, when you were always leaving class. I think this new school is very good for you.”

“I miss my, our, old home, and my friends,” I said, letting the tears fill my eyes.

She cradled me in her arms, stroking my hair. “I know. I miss your father and Peter to. But they couldn't come here. Now it's just us against the world isn't it.”

I didn't say anything, I just let her hug me. That was really all I came to her for. Just a bit of time away from everything, feeling soft, loving arms around me.

“Oh I have some good news!” she said when I finally stopped crying. “There is going to be a town fair, everyone is going to be there. And Paula said you're going to dance for everyone. Aren't you so excited?!”

I stared into her far away eyes. Calandri had said I could go home if I impressed everyone, I started to smile, and for the first time I kissed the poor womans cheek.

**

I woke up the next morning to find Calandri in my bed. She was stroking my hair with one hand, holding me against her warm chest with the other. Her heart roared like a fire in my ear, her hot skin warmed me up making my blood flow in time with her heartbeat. “Wake up, my sweet, talented Anthony. Today you must prepare for your dance. In the morrow you dance for the Lord and Lady. Will you make me proud and show everyone what you are capable of?”

“Then I can go home?” I asked

I felt her chin dip touching my head. “If you do well, I will personally send you home. But today you must learn. Come now I have prepared a lovely breakfast for you.”

My nose twitched at the smell of french toast covered in maple syrup, bacon and eggs with ketchup. I sat up and saw a table loaded down all of it. “Eat your fill, and I will send you an escort soon. I believe in you, Anthony, don't disappoint me,” she said leaning down to kiss my forehead.

Watching her go, I wished she'd stay a little longer. When the door closed I started eating loving every bite. I tried to imagine what I would have to do, but my mind was blank, there were too many things they could do or demand. I placed Crier on the lap while I ate, I needed the strength or I was going to panic. The fire built up inside of me,

I put on the golden dress Calandri had chosen for me. It dazzled in the light. I jumped and the skirt seemed to float around me like a cloud, the sleeves completely covered my hands, but a flick of my wrist pushed them back. Two golden brushes came from the bathroom held by invisible hands, they combed my hair and braided it into long thin strands, laced with the silvery bells Calandri had given me, and kept out of my eyes by diamond hairpins topped with silvery birds that sang as I moved.

The door lit up, my sign to go. Keeping my eyes low I followed the wisp.

**

I arrived at the training room. As I stepped through the boiling pool of water to enter it my mouth dropped. Even with all the things I'd seen this was beyond extraordinary.

I was standing on a cloud, it shook and raged lightening flashed within it's charcoal grey mist. Rain drops fell, some as large as dinner plates. The sun shone above me, creating dozens of rainbows some that stretched across the horizon and looked like ceiling of heaven, others faded and disappeared only to reappear so bright the light felt like a physical presence, still more were shorter bending and curving creating shapes and forms that contorted and writhed in the air.

Far below was a pink sea, creatures as large as skyscrapers, leapt out of the water, arching high into the sky until their fins, as large as an airplane, touched the clouds around me. Their diamond skin glittered, reflecting my astonished face a thousand million times over.

Calandri walked across the mist to my side. “You will be dancing here tomorrow morning. You must practice hard today for a single misstep could mean death. Are you ready, my brave Anthony?”

No, I wasn't. But I looked in her eyes and saw that they were so full of pride, while her hands squeezed my shoulders encouraging me. I didn't want to let her down. I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing deeply and tried to calm myself. I'd been training for this, I could do it.

“What do I do?” I asked.

She handed me two fans, they looked like ordinary wooden Chinese fans, which I'd used in the practice sessions before. With a flick of the wrist I opened them.

A burst of blue light erupted from the fans. When I could see I was holding two billowing wings of blue, crackling, fire. They waved gently in the wind behind me. Lifting one in shocked wonder, it didn't seem to weigh anything. I rose my arms and the powerful wings beat the air lifting me into the sky. With a laugh I jumped of the cloud holding my wings out to catch the wind.

My braided hair flew behind me like a mane, the hair pieces whistled as the wind rushed through them, their music echoing throughout the sky. I spun and twisted in the air, learning how to control the wings. Leaning to the side I soared through a cloud, the watery mist beaded against my face and dress, sizzling when it touched the fiery wings.

I saw a fiery doppelganger before me. It waved its arms in strong confident thrusts, flying upwards towards the sun. I followed it reveling in the heat of the wings that washed over my legs, and turning my golden dress electric blue.

We circled the rainbows, landing on them to run and jump on the icy surface, each step made them ring with a beautiful clear note. Leaping off caused them to shatter into a shower of colours tinkling and singing out as they fell.

One of the diamond creatures rose up with a cry of a thousand violins playing at once. The doppelganger and I flew inches away from it's impossible bulk. Our lights shone through the creatures body lighting it up brighter than any star.

For hours I flew, I was a fire bird, and for a brief time it made me forget everything that had happened. For a while I simply marvelled at the unbelievable and felt what it must be like to be an angel.

**

Two imps, with greasy red fur, long noses and cat like ears carried me to my room. By the time I'd finished practising, I could barely move. While I was flying, I'd been weightless, when I landed and folded the wings away I'd fallen into Calandri's waiting arms. Still the pain and exhaustion had been worth it, to see the look of pride in her eyes. She'd kissed my forehead and summoned the imps to help me. I'd made it five steps and they'd been forced to pick me up.

They placed me in my bed and left without a word.

I was barely able to take off my dress and put on my nightgown before I laid down, even my eyelids felt like they weighed a ton. Sleep came to me, and for once Crier wasn't waiting for me. Instead I dreamed of flying home on wings of fire.

The next morning I was too excited to stay still. After getting dressed in the same golden dress, leaving Crier on the bed, the dance had no place for him, I went to the cafeteria and had to force myself to eat. I saw Sam briefly but he was following a wisp probably to prepare for his fight. I went to Mrs. Jones and listened as she nattered on about how happy she was that I was going to be dancing for the 'town'. I didn't have the heart to tell her that if I did well she might never see me again. Better to let her be happy a few more hours and then forget about me later.

Finally a wisp came for me. I gave Mrs. Jones a hug and left to meet my destiny.

This time there was no loud noise, no fanfare as I entered. It was as quiet as a tomb. Looking around it was as inviting as one.

There weren't the clouds and rainbows I was expecting. There was a circular room, it looked as wide across as a football field. There was no real floor, instead stones, gems, and pools of water floated in the air, while countless figures sat along the wall, from my perspective they should have fallen but they sat and walked as if I was the one walking along the wall. They moved freely drinking silver moon beams, and eating cakes of frozen sunlight. Calandri waved at me, with only a slight hesitation I stepped onto the wall and looked straight down into a black abyss.

Walking to her, my eyes kept looking at the blackness before me. Shadows blacker than the darkest night weaved and frolicked in the depths. They waved to me, beckoning me forward, asking me silently to join them.

Calandri grabbed my arm as I almost walked past her. “Are you ready, Anthony?” she asked.

I nodded, still staring into the darkness. One dance, and I would never have to see anything like it again. The fire wing fans were thrust into my hand. “You will begin soon. Be ready,” she said.

“Of course,” I whispered.

Sam came up beside me. He said something, but I didn't hear him. There was music in the air, I could just catch a few notes, it made my blood dance. He grabbed my hand which had been moving in time with darkness before me.

“Focus, Anthony!” he said putting his hand on my shoulder.

That got my attention. “Sorry. I'm ready.”

The Lord and Lady sat at the top of the wall, watching everything from their thrones, Paula was in her usual spot at the Lady's feet. The Lord raised his hand and the room was immediately filled with silence.

“Today, we are going to see a great performance,” he boomed, his voice carried in the wind. “Our newest toy was going to dance for us. But it has been brought to my attention that she is not a true dancer. Rather she is a fighter.”

I stared at him in shock. What was he talking about? Calandri looked just as surprised. Sam's hand slipped from my shoulder.

“Since she is a fighter, let us see her fight our champion. To the death,” the Lord said, his empty eyes were somehow full of sadistic pleasure.

All eyes turned to Sam and I, as the winds picked us up and placed us on the hanging stones. The darkness below keened in hunger, howling for blood, for flesh, something in me yearned to jump down and meet them. I could hear the music clearly, it was a funeral dirge.

I looked at the Lord and Lady, they wanted me to kill Sam this couldn't be true. But then I saw Paula smilin, her vicious little smile. I knew what had happened. With a few words to the Lady, she hadn't broken her oath, but she was going to see one of us die.

Sam stood across from me. A club much like the one he'd used to kill the bear creature in his hand. His shoulders were slumped, he was wiping his hand against his shorts, the light and hope I'd seen in his eyes before had died.

“I knew this was going to happen,” he whispered, it echoed in the quiet arena. “Everything I've seen, all the futures I've faced, you've killed me, or I've killed you. I was, I was hoping it would be a little later. It seemed like a few of us had a few really good times. I wish that was us.”

He came forward, the club held high, his free hand up near his chest, ready to block a strike. I still didn't know what was going on. “S-Sam, we don't have to do this,” I said stepping back.

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let myself care. I should have listened to you and killed you in your sleep. This just makes it harder for both of us.” As he spoke he rushed forward, the club swinging at my head.

I fell backwards off the rock. The blackness reached up, tendrils of dead gods rose up seeking my warmth, every wave of blackness made the funeral dirge louder, the numbness in my body turned cold. 'Die, die, die, die...” the song whispered in my soul.

I flicked the fans open, the fiery blue wings opened behind me in a flare of light which forced the darkness back. As I struggled to rise against the pull of the abyss, the watching Fae cheered and hooted. Looking up I saw Sam leaping down towards me, carefully jumping between the rocks and jewels, I swung away from him, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. I needed to buy time, until one of us could think of a way out of this. There was no way I was going to kill him even if I could.

My left shoulder went numb, it felt like I'd been shot. I fell screaming, my wings turning me into a fireball. As I hit a floating rock, I turned my fall into a roll coming to my feet just in time to block a sharp, blue crystal with my good arm. The crystal melted in the fire, spattering my dress and face with molten rock. I tried to move my left arm, but it was all I could do to hold onto the fan. I was grounded with only one wing, Sam threw caution to the wind and charged at me.

As he jumped to my platform, he threw a rock the size of my skull, forcing me to dodge so he could land safely. My fiery wing slashed out in front of me, making him keep his distance, Sweat was beading on his forehead as my fire came within inches of his face. The anguish I'd seen earlier had been replaced by a stone cold look that promised death.

“Sam. Please I don't want fight you,” I said. “I saw us doing things together. We were older, and friends.”

He didn't lower his guard but he stopped advancing. “I saw those to. I was hoping we could get there. I prayed for it. I haven't prayed once since coming here, but I prayed we would be that one lucky pair. Didn't help. God has no place here. Only the Fair Folk, and they want one of us dead.”

My flame formed a wall of fire around me as he charged. There was a shriek of pain, and I smelled burning hair and meat, then a fist struck my chest. Something cracked, and I flew backwards. My fan fell from my numbed hand, and I was looking at the blackness once again. I couldn't even scream, my body was a mass of pain so intense it seemed like my heart had stopped. My mind was overwhelmed by the hatred flowing upwards.

Something sparked in my mind.

The singing of the birds pins in my hair joined the chanting in my soul. My heart started to beat again.

“Die.”
“Die.”
“Die.”
“Die.”

I waved my remaining wing, sending me slamming into the side of the tunnel. The lowest fae, forced to be nearest the unholy blackness scattered as I crashed through a table. Staggering to my feet I tried to orient myself. Sam was judging the distance to jump into the stands so we could finish our fight. Taking the chance to recover, I leaned against a chair and gasped for breath, letting the feeling slowly returned to my body.

“I can help you,” Crier said in my mind.

“How?”

“You are bonded to me. You already feel me inside of you. Open yourself completely. I'll give you the strength you need, as I did once before,” he said.

The beating increased.

“DIE!”
“DIE!”
“DIE!”
“DIE!”

I accepted it inside of me. Breathing in time with the sound. Sam had made the jump, he walked down the wall, he looked ready to kill. I walked towards him, the same expression on my face. Each footstep, each breath, each heartbeat, chanted the same thing.

“DIE!”
“DIE!”
“DIE!”
“DIE!”

The rage I'd felt when fighting Paula and myself was a candle compared to what I felt now. I pushed it outwards, the once graceful flaming blue wing, had turned to hellfire. The Fae fled before it's heat.

Crier spoke to me as Sam and I walked towards each other. “You trusted him. You trained beside him. And now he seeks to kill you. Do not hold back. Give him the honour and respect he deserves, we shall weep for him fiercely and remember him in our dreams. Survive. That is all that matters. Survive and bring more warriors to be honoured.”

Sam's dark skin blistered and scorched, glowed red in the light of my fire. I knew he expected me to jump and dodge striking him from the sides. I didn't. The inferno swung towards him in a straight line, a sword of black in the center shrieking for blood. I was going to cut him in half with the fires of my hate.

He slid under it, smoke rose from his body. Rolling to his knees in front of me, his club whistled through the air striking my hip.

I felt my hip bone turn to powder, my limp body was thrown backwards hitting a table. Falling in a heap, I tried to make my legs move, but the agony was too intense. It was all I could do to keep breathing. My flame died, the fan was gone.

My vision was fading in and out. I saw three Sam's walking towards me, I had no idea which one was real. I didn't care, I wanted it to end.

Something shifted, I could see Sam clearly now. But it wasn't Sam. It was Calandri, dressed as she was when she'd kidnapped me. “DIE!” Jasper's face rose in front of her, he was smiling, moving his hands over my body as he had when he'd mutilated me. “DIE!” Paula was laughing, calling me Ant, terrifying me. “DIE!” The Lady commanding me to dance as if I was a toy. “DIE!” The Lord, ordering me to kill or die. “DIE!” My own faces, so many of them thinking I deserved to die. “DIE!” Sam betraying me, trying to kill me. “DIE!”

“DIE!”
“DIE!”
“DIE!”
“DIE!”

Something appeared in my hand. I leaned to the side and struck.

My shoulder shattered under the hard wooden club, I fell the rest of the way to the ground . I was still alive though, and I saw Crier driven deep into Sam's stomach. He looked shock.

“I'm sorry, Anthony,” he whispered, collapsing to the ground.

**

I woke up in my room. I didn't want to wake up, I had been dreaming of talking with Sam back home. He was Alejandra, and I was my old self again. She was beautiful with long, curly, black hair, dark eyes, and raspberry juice on her lips. The sun was shining and we were outside eating barbequed hotdogs. What we were talking about wasn't important, all that mattered was we were safe, happy and everything was normal and peaceful. I didn't hurt. I wasn't a killer.

Calandri kissed my cheek, her hot lips dragged me from my dream. Memories of pain filled me with dread, but as the bed shifted there was no flare of agony. Nothing was broken, nothing hurt. It seemed wrong. I'd killed Sam, I had wanted to kill him. There should be something to remember him by.

“Come Anthony. You have done well and it is time for your reward,” she whispered in my ear.

I sat up slowly. An hour before I would have jumped up, shouting for joy. Now, now I was just filled with numb relief that I might be able to go home. My old clothes were waiting for me at the foot of the bed. I stared at them uncomprehending, after spending the last few weeks wearing garish dresses and skin tight clothes, I was surprised at the possibility of wearing normal things again. But they wouldn't fit me very well anymore.

Calandri stood up and started to leave the room. “Put your clothes on and quickly meet me outside the door. You do not have time to waste.”

The shirt should fit at least, I thought. Stripping, I put the t-shirt on first. As it went over my head, my hair crawled into my scalp. It tickled my back and neck until it was short and curly once more, a little shaggy but nothing like the long flowing locks I'd had just seconds before. Not really comprehending it, I finished putting the shirt on. My body quivered and shook, fat rearranged itself, muscles expanded and I grew taller, my shoulders widened, my stomach became soft and flat. My skin turned pink.

The shorts and underwear were next.

At first the underwear was stretched by my hips and butt, but like a balloon having the air slowly squeezed out of it, my pelvis shrank and my waist thickened back to being a boys. My legs lengthened and shrank when the shorts passed over them, the hair came back. My manhood grew again.

Strangely I didn't care.

Putting on my shoes, I didn't even feel my feet becoming larger.

I walked into the hallway where Calandri was waiting, it looked like she was crying. A streak of orange ran down her cheek. “I'm going to miss you, Anthony. You were the finest student I ever had. Are you sure you don't want to stay?”

“Please. Please let me go home,” I begged in a quiet voice.

She hugged me again. “Very well. But if you ever call to me, I will take you back. You can be a great person here, and it would be my honour to help you achieve it.”

I hugged her back, but I couldn't think of anything to say.

We walked through the halls. Fae came to watch me, whispering and laughing to themselves. I ignored them, lost in my own personal hell. Sam's face dogged me, I saw him in every mirror, I heard his footsteps beside me. Felt his hand on my shoulder. He wouldn't leave me alone.

Calandri opened a door and stepped through, I followed her and saw that we were standing at the back of a convenience store in the late evening. I realized where we were, it was just a little ways to my home. I fell to my knees and started crying, I was home.

“Anthony, listen to me. The magic I used isn't perfect, it has a catch. You must be hugged by your mother within a half hour or you'll return to the girl you once were. Do you understand?” Calandri asked.

I stopped crying, the thought of becoming the girl once more was horrifying. I couldn't return to that. “My Mom is at home isn't she?”

“Yes she is. I will not cheat or trick you like that,” she said. “But hurry home, I don't wish to see you hurt anymore. And remember if you need me, simply call my name and I shall come to my brave dancer who has made me so proud.”

“Thank you, Calandri.”

As I ran home I don't recall what I saw. Everything was a blur except for the sidewalk in front of me. I had never been a good runner, but that night I probably ran faster than my entire class. Nothing was going to stop me.

I saw my house, the lights were on. Ryan was taking out the garbage. “Ryan, Ryan! I'm home, I'm back!”

He looked at me like I was crazy. “I didn't know you left dude. Get Prince from the backyard or Mom is going to kill you.” He walked back inside without a second look.

What was he talking about? Who was Prince? From the cool air it had to be October, I'd been gone for at least two months. At a complete loss I went to the backyard, someone was playing with a dog. A boy who was about my size, with my hair.

“Who are you?” I demanded.

The boy turned around, he was me. A little cleaner. A lot happier. “I'm Anthony. Who are you?”

“No. NO! I'm Anthony!”

He cocked his head and took a closer look at me. “Wow! You do look a lot like me. How did you do it?”

“I'm you,” I said. “No, you're me. No, this isn't right!” I screamed hitting my head, trying to make everything make sense.

“Listen,” the fake me said, “you look like me, but you're not. I'm me. So how about you just go home. You tried to fool me for Youtube or something, it failed. Give it up.”

“No! Calandri wouldn't lie to me. You're not real. I'm real!” I shouted.

He backed up, starting to look scared. “I don't know who Calendar is, but you're crazy. Just get out of here or my parents are going to call the police.”

My heart was beating so hard I was afraid it would burst from my chest. This was wrong. They'd replaced me with a fake. I was real. I was real and he was a fake. I'd fought to make it back home. I'd done it. He hadn't! He wasn't real!

I threw myself at him. Punching and kicking, using everything I'd learned in my time in hell. He howled in pain as I broke his arm. There was shouting from inside the house, I ignored it to busy breaking the fakes nose, I felt myself being pulled off of him and thrown to the ground.

Someone was hitting me. I'd felt worse and didn't cry out, just struggled to stand up, but I was too weak. In the haze I saw Ryan crouched over top of me, his fist rising up and down. Somehow I got my foot between us and pushed as hard as I could. He fell backwards landing on his ass. I stood up, and saw my Mom cradling the fake me.

“Mom! It's me Anthony,” I said.

I froze in horror, my voice didn't sound like my voice anymore. I looked down at myself, my skin was slowly turning red. I needed to get her to hug me before I was unrecognizable. Running over to her I grabbed her by the shoulder. “Mom! LOOK AT ME! I'm Anthony! Not him! I'm your son!”

She pushed me away one handed with a look of hatred. Still cradling her fake son. She was about to say something when Ryan's foot connected with my face. I turned on him, long hair obscuring my vision. He tried to punch me again. My small, delicate looking fist hit his stomach sending him to his knees, retching and gasping.

My mother stood up, her face terrified me. I'd never seen such loathing and hatred even in the steading. I turned and ran.

**

An hour or two later, I sat behind a house in my poorly fitting clothes. I'd heard police sirens earlier, and I'd seen police cars slowly driving along the streets ever since.

I had a pair of pruning sheers in my hand.

My life here was done. I couldn't return home. I thought of the older me, who'd given me Crier. She'd been scarred. So badly scarred.

Taking my shirt off, I looked at my chest. The pruning sheers were sharp.

I carved an S above my heart. The pain meant almost nothing to me.

My thoughts turned to my former family. Below my heart, I carved an A.

“Calandri, I want to go home,” I whispered into the wind.

The air was torn open, a hole led to my room, where Calandri waited sitting on my bed. Her face beamed with delight. “Thank you for coming back to me Anthony.”

I stepped through the hole, shaking my head, I needed to remember Sam, not as the fighter I knew him as, but as the person he'd been before. “I'm not Anthony anymore. Call me Alex.”

The hole in the world closed up, and she rose to embrace me.

I was home, and music danced in my veins.

This is the second part of the story. These chapters are rougher, but I think they're ok. Feel free to let me know what works and what doesn't. Enjoy.

I walked through the halls of the Bitter Winds Steading, wearing a plain, pitch black dress that seemed to radiate the cold within me. Crier was at my side, the golden sheathe blazed with light, my fingers tapped the hilt to a tune only I could hear. The other slaves I passed seemed saddened, at least those that could focus on the here and now. We had been cut down by one. At the order of the Lord and Lady, I'd been forced to kill my friend.

He'd tried to kill me first, but I had killed him.

The slaves looked at me fearfully, I couldn't blame them. Calandri had explained it to me when I came back to her, to my home. “Now that the fighter is dead, the Lord and the Lady need a new fighter. As the slayer, you are chosen,” she'd told me, so happily I could see the flames leaping in her eyes.

“What does that mean?”

“When we need entertainment, or a challenge you'll be called to fight. If a human or a fae displeases one of importance, you'll be called to deal out the punishment,” she told me.

It took a few seconds to sink in. “I'll have to kill again?”

“Yes, in glorious combat. You shall bring me great honour, you have fulfilled my every wish. You have made me proud and no one shall call you Ant again, Alex,” she said, using my new name. The one I'd chosen moments before to remember my friend, as he'd chosen his new name to honour the friend he'd been forced to kill.

I wondered if someone would choose my name when I finally died.

Entering the cafeteria, I saw it was full of people, more people than I'd seen in the steading. All twenty-two of us. There was real food laid out on wooden tables, not the leaves and twigs we usually ate. Mrs. Jones came over, smiling but crying into her water logged cheeks.

“Oh Amber, I'm so proud of you,” she said hugging me. “You did marvelously, it's a shame though that Sam left, not able stand being beaten by a girl I suppose. You're a very important person now.”

I wanted to hug her back, but the way she talked about Sam made me want to cry. I couldn't cry, not here, not like this, not if I was suppose to fight more. If I started to cry I didn't think I would be able to stop. I muttered something and pushed her away, ignoring her sobs.

“I have trodden the wine press alone; and of the people there was none with me: for I will tread them in mine anger, and trample them in my fury; and their blood shall be sprinkled upon my garments, and I will stain all my raiment. Isaiah ch. LXIII, v. 3,” Walter quoted, looking at me with his dead, dusty eyes. It was surprising seeing him outside of his library.

As usual I had no idea what to say to him. It's hard talking to someone who only quotes old books most of which I'd never heard of.

Sin's glittering purple fingers touched my long hair which had changed to a dull, coppery red. “You need a haircut to match your new position, I would gladly make you look like a demon, so fierce none would challenge you. Just like the you, you will eventually become.”

“No thank you, Sin. No demons. There are enough here already.”

She pouted, “Aren't you a demon, Anthony? Or are you Alex now?”

“Alex, and I'm not a demon yet,” I told her.

“We could get you prepared for it. You never know what yesterday will bring,” she said.

“Then we wait for tomorrow, or yesterday. Not today,” I said.

There were more people wanting to talk to me. Wanting to offer advice, congratulate me, talk to me. I listened to them all. Briefly. My fingers didn't leave Crier, tapping out the song that had been going through my head since fighting Sam. I wondered how they would fight me when the time finally came. Would they beg and scream? Fight as hard as they could? Welcome their end? I had been considering these things since Calandri had told me the news. I saw their faces replacing Sam's as he looked at me with Crier in his gut. How many would I 'honour' as Crier wanted?

Finally Paula spoke, raising her wine glass high. Everyone stopped talking immediately, they'd just seen her power, she could break most of them physically, but she didn't need to. Being the Lady's pet let her destroy her enemies with a word. They respected that. Or feared it. I'd come to realize there was very little difference between the two.

“Everyone, let us raise a cup to our newest fighter who will uphold the honour of the steading and all of the humans living here,” she said, taking a sip of her wine.

“But this isn't just a celebration. Our dear, dear companion Samantha has died. It is a heavy blow, but I'm certain we'll be stronger with the one who defeated her at our side,” she said, smiling with her too wide mouth.

My tongue was too big for my mouth, I couldn't speak. I couldn't cry. I could only glare at her, wishing she was dead. I turned to leave.

The woman needed to get in one last parting shot. “Now let us all remember who keeps us safe, and keep it in mind in the future. A toast to our surviving fighter,”

No one got in my way, one look at my flaming eyes was enough to clear a path.

**

I stood in a clearing in the park where Sam and I had spent what little peaceful time we'd had together, I held Crier before me. My muscles shook from rage, Sam was dead at my hands, because of Paula, and there was nothing I could do about it. It was wrong.

“I need to be stronger Crier. Teach me to be stronger,” I demanded. I was done begging.

The bushes rustled around me. I saw the dead coming towards me, Sam led them.

Tears finally came to my eyes, and I began to dance.

**

Calandri came to me later that day, I was sweating and tired from training, my black dress was torn and hung limply with sweat, I just wanted to have a shower. She was brilliant in a gown of flowing water, the blue and white water clung to her skin, barely obscuring her flesh, running down along her body, forming a skirt of mist as it hit her feet. Her hair flickered like a torch, crackling and popping in time with the running water. She looked stronger than before.

Wiping the sweat from my brow, I looked up at her sheathing Crier. “Hello Calandri.”

She frowned slightly. “Alex, won't you smile for me? You have such a beautiful smile.”

My lips curved upwards automatically. She'd kept her promises to me, she deserved the respect. But there was no real feeling put in it. My eyes stayed the same, dull embers of pain and hate. She didn't seem to notice.

“That's so much better,” she said, her red face glowed. “Now you'll be spending more time with the Fae, especially the lords and ladies, you must learn how to behave. Our last fighter never cared, and look at what happened to him.”

My smile faltered, and my hand slid to Crier. Music came to my ears. Closing my eyes, I forced the rage down, the dirge quieted into a background thrumming in my blood. “Teach me, Calandri.”

She waved her hand as if shooing away a bug. “I don't have time for that, I must return to my own duties. You'll be trained by Paula, for a human she is quite good with courtly courtesies.”

“NO!” I yelled. “Not her!”

Calandri's eyes narrowed, her red flaming hair turned pale blue. “What did you say?”

“If you make me speak to her I'll kill her,” I said, drawing Crier.

Smoke rose from her hands. “You wouldn't dare. She is the Lady's pet, if you harm a hair on her head she will rip your soul from your chest and I'll be in her disfavour. Do not EVER speak like that again.”

“She made me kill Sam! She tried to kill me! I don't care about the La-”

I was knocked to the floor by a slap which made my teeth rattle. My cheek burned, gingerly I touched my face and felt blisters rising on my skin. On my knee's I looked up at the Fae. Her dress was boiling from the flames erupting through her skin, flames came from her mouth. “You will not speak ill the Lady! You will not harm her pet! You will do as you are told or you will answer to me.”

A part of me wanted to cower, beg her to forgive me. The other part was stronger, blood pounded in my ears, Crier was behind me, his long shadow looked down at me. He sneered. “Is this how you deal with an enemy, kneeling before them as they strike you? Where is your fire?”

“DIE!” I screamed, leaping to my feet. Crier sliced through the air in a perfect swing. The blade hit her dress, splashing water across the room. But Calandri wasn't there.

A burning hand touched my back. Flesh seared as my dress caught fire. I spun out of her reach, kicking out as I did. I was rewarded by a small grunt of pain from Calandri. She jumped back looking surprised. “Are you insane?” she asked.

“I will not be in the same room as Paula. I'm not weak anymore. I'm a killer.”

She smiled. “Prove it.”

Crier blurred, as my dress swirled around me, hiding my feet and legs. I feinted at her head making her lean back, even as my foot connected with her knee. Calandri stumbled, and I rushed in, swinging to take her head off. Calandri raised her hand, not taking her eyes off of me. I pierced her palm, the black blade came to a stop a centimeter from her face. I pressed down, but Crier refused to move. Calandri didn't even flinch.

“You are a killer,” she said. Flame rose from her hand. Crier glowed red. “But I'm your master.”

I couldn't move Crier. The blade radiated heat. I tried to let go. My hands were stuck to the hilt. I was sweating from the heat, my damp dress steamed. I kicked at her, only to scream as I hit a wall of heat. My foot was burning, I felt the skin splitting.

“I protected you. I kept my side of the bargain. You are mine until I say differently. If you disagree, we can have another discussion. But it will hurt more,” she said. Her voice was the roar of a blazing fire, her body a pale blue flame.

The cherry red heat rose up the blade, reaching the hilt. My hands sizzled, and I smelled burning meat. For the first time since killing Sam the music in my head disappeared, overpowered by my screams.

**

I came to in a large bath, the cool, bubbly, water felt heavenly on my skin. Calandri's warm hands stroked my long hair. Trying to raise my burned hand out of the bath took all my energy, I was as weak as a kitten. Looking at my hands I saw it was healed, all that reminded me of the fight was a small scar in the shape of a flame.

“I'm sorry we had that fight, Alex,” Calandri whispered in my ear. “I don't want to see you hurt, but you have to learn to follow instructions. All you have to do is take some classes and learn how to behave, and you won't be hurt again. Is that so hard?”

I wanted to plead with her to change her mind. To tell her that I couldn't work with Paula. But that would be begging, there was no way I would beg to anyone. Defeat I could accept, but not begging. “Ok, I'll learn from Paula.”

She kissed my forehead. “Thank you Alex. I've prepared a wonderful meal for you. Who do you want to join you? You can have anyone you wish.”

No.

I couldn't.

“Thank you Calandri, but I'll eat it by myself.”

We finished the bath, and she dried me off. The clothing she gave me were a surprise, blue jeans and a t-shirt. They looked like what I used to wear, just changed to fit my body. I fought back tears as I put them on.

She was right about the dinner, it was a feast. It tasted like ash.

The next morning I counted the days since I'd arrived, it was hard with how time moved so strangely. It didn't help that when I slept I spent time training with Crier, sometimes figuring out when I'd actually slept and when I'd been awake was difficult. Still, I had a pretty good guess that it was my birthday.

Seventeen years old, and I'd killed people, lost my family, turned into a freakish girl, and had been almost killed too many times to remember. That was a pretty good accomplishment by almost anyone's standards. Smiling bleakly at myself in the mirror, I had to wonder what I'd accomplish in the coming year, it would be kind of hard to top the last two months.

I saw that my normal clothes were hung neatly in the wardrobe. I knew I should probably wear something dignified if I was going to be learning etiquette, but it was my birthday so I decided to be comfortable instead. Jeans and t-shirt it was. The jeans were almost skin tight, and the t-shirt was softer than I was used to, but after dresses, leotards and tights, I wasn't going to complain about little details. As always Crier finished my morning dressing.

The cafeteria wasn't crowded. A tiny long fingered man with enormous eyes I had seen before, but never talked to came over as I was eating. “Hello, Alex,” he said, sitting down.

I nodded at him, but didn't say anything.

“We've never been properly introduced, please call me Richard.” I nodded again. “Well, I came over because I thought you might want to avail yourself of my services.”

“Avail?”

He smiled, flattening his messy black hair. “Use my services. I know many secrets that could be useful to you.”

I didn't like him. His eyes never stopped moving. My dad would say he looked like a used car salesman. It didn't help that he wouldn't stop staring at my chest. “Like what?”

“Little things like when we're going to have a party. When you'll need to fight. What you'll fight. Things that can keep you alive,” he said.

“What will it cost?”

“You have an important position. Sometimes you could learn something useful, that you could pass on. Or I may need some help sometime,” he said.

“Sure,” I said, “But this isn't a regular deal. We talk about it first and then make a deal.”

He nodded his head, lingering as he stared at my legs. I felt dirty, with his eyes on me. Still if he could help me I would take it. But it would be on my own terms, I was done being peoples play thing. If he tried anything I didn't like, there were ways to deal with him. As I ate one handed, my other hand stroked Crier. I hummed a tune slowly to myself, as Richard tried to get me talking. I ignored him, humming louder.

He left soon after.

**

Paula found me polishing Crier in the cafeteria a little later. I was pleased to see her smile waver at the sight of him. She recovered well though, as she walked towards me I was surprised to see her wearing a loose skirt, I'd always seen her in tights or shorts, that were so tight they looked painted on. I started humming again, almost silently, staring at her as the silky cloth rasped on the blade.

“Come with me Ant,” she said, smiling widely. “You have so much to learn if you want to do well. We don't want to see you get burned again.”

I ignored her. Humming louder, I tested Criers blade on a shivering tree with purple bark that tasted like grapes. She didn't flinch, probably because she remembered we'd sworn an oath to not hurt each other physically. I wasn't sure what would happen if I broke it, but oaths had powers here, just thinking of breaking it made my chest hurt.

“Are you listening to me Ant?” she demanded.

I looked around, as if trying to see who she could be talking to. I saw something moving in the bushes. A quick thrust and I had a hand size, cockroach like bug squirming on the tip of my sword. “Is this who you were talking to Paula. It's not really an ant, but I suppose it would make a good meaty breakfast,” I said holding it under her nose.

She curled her nose up at the insect that was trying to pull itself off the blade with tiny monkey like hands. “Fine. Alex, come with me.”

I took my time flicking the bug off, and spent more time wiping the sticky slime from the tip before sheathing Crier. With a lazy yawn I got to my feet, and bowed to Paula to lead the way. We left the cafeteria and headed to the antechamber. I made sure to walk through the hallway properly, while it was fun irritating her, getting lost in the steading wasn't a wise idea.

“Courtroom,” she said, knocking on the single wooden door of the heart like chamber.

We entered a room I had never seen before. It was lit up as brilliantly as a clear summer day by creatures that crawled along the ceiling and walls, their backs were like glass balls. Within each one was a boiling liquid that splashed against their transparent skin, each one glowed a different colour from leaden grey to hot pink. The lights twisted and joined in the air making it hard to see clearly. Perspectives and shadows changed and shifted as I looked at them.

As I looked at the walls covered in wooden carvings of dancing fairies and animals stalking prey, moving in time to some music I couldn't hear, Paula took a seat on a simple granite throne. She cleared her throat, loudly, getting my attention again. I took a seat on a padded stool just in front of the steps leading to the throne. She smirked at being above me, I didn't care. Having to look up at Paula wasn't anything new for me, and I could move a lot more easily if she tried to hit me than she could with her legs draped over the granite armrests.

“Now Alex, where should we begin?” she asked, more to herself than to me. “Have you ever been to any parties?”

Birthday parties and the school or community parties during the holidays probably didn't count. The one school dance I'd gone to definitely didn't matter, I'd been too embarrassed to do anything except talk with my friends. I shook my head.

She gave an exaggerated frown, sticking out her lips like a duck. “Well than, we simply must start at the beginning. Those clothes won't do for this. A proper lady doesn't appear before the Lord and Lady in street clothes.” She raised her hand and pointed at a screen of child size leaves woven into a curtain with strands of golden hair off to the side. “Go over there and pick a dress that fits you. Be quick about it.”

I almost refused. But I'd agreed to let her teach me, and this wasn't exactly a big request. As she made a big show of waiting, I went to look at the dresses. As always there was a wide variety of clothes to choose from. The one I hated the least had a flaming red, orange and yellow skirt, with a black bodice covered in spots of red like sparks of a fire. I placed my clothes on a bench made of clouds, and quickly dressed again.

“That is lovely, Alex,” Paula gushed. “So much better than those drab clothes you had on before. But remember you can't keep it.”

Shrugging I sat down again, refusing to get angry.

“The first thing you must learn is how to curtsy. Please put your sword to the side, it will just get in the way.” She stood up, delicately grabbed her skirt at the sides, put one foot in front of the other and bent her knees a little.

I stood up and placed Crier on the stool. The curtsy looked easy, after some of the contortions and bends I'd practiced for fighting and dancing, it was childs' play. I tried to copy her.

“Wrong. You must grab your skirt with you thumb and your first two fingers. Make sure your pinkies are always extended. Then gently pull the skirt to the sides, don't yank it. Put your right foot, not your left foot in front, about 5 inches forwards. Try again,” she demanded.

Grinding my teeth I did it again. As I bent my knees, I leaned forward slightly. A hand slapped my butt, almost making me fall on my face. I spun, raising my fist to hit her.

“Don't stick your ass out, it's not ladylike,” she said.

She was so calm, without a trace of emotion on her face, I suddenly felt foolish for getting so angry. This was a lesson. I'd been burned and beaten learning how to dance and fight, a simple slap shouldn't be too hard to take. I forced myself to calm down.

I repeated the curtsy, keeping my body ruler straight. Paula gave a tiny smile. “That was good enough, but next time rise more slowly.”

I spent the next several hours learning how to address different fae. Who I was suppose to call a lord or lady, sir or ma'am, or by their basic name or type. It took half an hour to get the right tone for the Lord and Lady. Through it all she was very proper, never insulting, but every comment was backed up by something I'd done wrong. If I made a mistake she was quick to point it out. Her face never changed expression, not even a smirk when I couldn't remember if the differences between a fae with diamonds floating in its hair, one made from diamonds, or one with diamond eyes.

It was like preparing for a test made in Wonderland.

After far too long my mind was spinning. The shifting lights had given me a headache and my eyes burned, my throat was dry from reciting facts Paula was throwing at me almost at random, the music in my head was becoming overwhelming, and then it was done. “Same time tomorrow, Alex. Please be waiting in this room for me.”

Before I could say anything, Paula was out the door. Somehow she made her fast exit look dignified. Stretching, I stroked Crier for a few minutes, trying to calm myself down. I needed food, a drink, and a few hours of not thinking. Finally I was ready to leave.

I went to change my clothes.

The screen had vanished. Along with my pants and shirt. I ran around the room looking in every corner, feeling the wall as I went to make sure it wasn't hidden behind some illusion. Nothing. I cursed, I'd liked those clothes. They were normal.

I headed for the door. If I wasn't suppose to take the stupid dress with me, they shouldn't have stolen my clothes. As I entered the antechamber, I felt cold.

Looking down, I saw that my dress had vanished, leaving me in my underwear and shoes. I closed my eyes, trying to remember how to breathe. I just had to walk down a short hallway and I'd be in my room. The others were always running around doing errands or jobs or going slowly mad, I probably wouldn't see anyone.

I opened the door again, and stepped into the hallway. There were gasps of shock. Almost every human in the steading was there, talking to each other, walking into or out of the cafeteria or simply leaving their rooms. It was a real crowd. And all of them were looking at my virtually naked body. I cowered, trying to cover myself. My still healing cuts, the S above my heart, the A beneath it, seemed to burn as they stared.

“Amber!” Mrs. Jones shouted in horror. “What do you think you're doing young lady?”

That shook me back to reality. I straightened my back. This wasn't my body, who cared what people saw? “I'm going to my room. Move.”

She tried to cover me in her woolen shawl, her we face frowning. “You will not talk to me like that. Was there a boy involved? I know you are very close to Sam, if he di-”

I shoved her. She outweighed me by at lest thirty kilo's, but I knew how to hit hard for the best effect. She fell backwards into the arms of a blue man covered in tattoos. I stormed past the rest of the audience, my hand on Crier's hilt, daring anyone to say anything. Mrs. Jones wails followed me, until I slammed the door to my room.

Happy birthday to me.

I was resting that afternoon cleaning Crier, trying to control the anger that filled me, when a whisp came to the garden. I looked away from the images running over it’s surface that reminded me of home tugging at my soul. “Lead the way,” I said, looking at the light beneath it.

We walked through clouds of green, which slowly hardened, becoming crystals, forming arches and stairs. The green faded away, until they were silvery white. A thousand whisps floated along the facets, each one followed by me, each reflection was a little different. Different clothes, different hair, different emotions, different bodies. I ignored them.

We came to a room, which I remembered from nightmares. The reflections faded away, leaving a single crystal table facing a mirrored wall. I shook as my bones remembered being twisted and molded. My skin crawled at the feeling of invisible hands reshaping my body. A high pitched whimper rose in a throat that felt like it was being crushed once more. Jasper was standing in the center of the room, his white bark like skin had sprouted leaves, his moss hair was more radiant constantly lit by a ray of sunlight. His dark face smiled, revealing wooden teeth. “Ah! My greatest creation you have finally arrived.”

My hand clenched the hilt of Crier. For once I was grateful for the floor length skirt I wore, it hid the tremors in my legs. He didn’t seem to notice, he was too busy looking me over, measuring me with his eyes. “We are having a dinner in two days time, for an envoy from another Steading has arrived. You will be performing for us. I am wondering what we should have you face. The last fighter relied on strength, but that doesn’t suit you at all. I am thinking something in the air. Birds again, a thunderbird has potential. Maybe a dragon.” He frowned. “No for those we’ll need you to fly, or that won’t work at all. I could always make you wings,” he murmured.

Crier was in my hand without my realizing it. The fae looked at me, his eyes widened slightly. “No, I don’t suppose that would be a good idea, it would take far too much time for you to learn how to use them. Do you like dogs?”

I gave a slight nod, Crier still in my hands. I knew he probably had some dogs and would change them into killing machines, but it was a relief to know that he wouldn’t try to mutilate me anymore than he already had, and that I wouldn’t be forced to fight another person. I wasn’t sure what I would do if they tried either of those.

“Very well, I know what you shall face. You may go now.”

The whisp floated purposefully away. I followed it keeping my sword at the ready.

**

The next morning I put on my best dress. It looked like it was made from spider webs and dewdrops. The white strands were almost blinding, while the dew acted as prisms creating a rainbow just above my skin that shifted and changed with every breath. I went to the Courtroom to wait for Paula. Richard was there, waiting for me.

“Good morning, Alex. I have some interesting news for you.”

“I know. We’re having a dinner tomorrow and I’ll be fighting.”

“Yes. Do you know what you’ll be fighting?”

I acted bored. “Dogs.”

He shrugged, and looked a little embarrassed. “I see my news isn’t so useful after all. But I have something else you may want to know.”

My eyes widened slightly, letting him know I was interested.

“The envoy should be of interest to you, and you to him. I’ll let you know why for a favour.”

“What type of favour?”

“One of the other humans is causing me some trouble. Just let him know that if he continues it would make you unhappy,” he told me.

My lip curled. “Who is he.”

“The blue fellow, Omar. I know you don’t talk to him, so this shouldn’t be a problem.”

“You just want me to warn him, nothing else?” I asked, not ready to actually hurt anyone for this man.

“Just a warning.”

I nodded. “Deal. Now what’s up with this envoy?”

The little man pointed at Crier. “He has a sword exactly like yours. He will probably be most interested in learning how you got it, so be ready.” He walked to the door, as I tried to think about what this could mean. “Please deal with Omar before you meet the envoy. The Fae are the definition of unpredictable.”

“What are you doing here Richard?” Paula asked.

“I was merely practicing my courtly manners when I saw your student come in Paula. If you’ll excuse me I won’t waste any of your time,” he said, bowing deeply, almost exaggerated with his long fingers spread wide.

“Thank you, Richard,” she said, her face and voice completely free of emotion. When the little man left Paula turned on me a trace of a smile on her lips. “I see you are appropriately dressed today. Now please repeat what you learned yesterday.”

“Shouldn’t we practice how I’m suppose to greet the envoy when I meet him tomorrow?” I asked,

Paula took a seat on the throne again. “Most of what I taught you yesterday is important to the dinner. And we have all morning tomorrow to practice the special greetings.”

I examined her closely. I didn’t trust her, I knew she would love to watch me fail. But there was so little I could do to strike back, and if I tried to force her to do what I wanted, there would be a fight I wasn’t sure I could win. Worst of all if Calandri came, she would hear Paula’s reason which sounded perfectly reasonable. There wasn’t any other choice she had all the cards. “Fine. When I meet a duke or a dame I must…”

**

Walking along the row of doors, I looked for Omars’ face. It was near the middle, and I was in luck, the eyes were wide open, meaning he was in and awake. He opened it on the fourth knock. He towered over me, not as much as Paula did, but he looked stronger and the dozens of tattoo’s moved across his skin, switching colours, changing shapes, and turning into different patterns and pictures that was disconcerting.

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

“I’d like you to lay off Richard, he says your bothering him.”

A frown came to his face, the tattoos which had been moving aimlessly, seemed to move faster, heading towards his face, heart and arms. “He made a deal with you, I suppose?”

“What of it?”

“Do you know what he’s doing?”

I shrugged, “Don’t know don’t care.”

“No, you don’t do you. Be careful about how much you take from him, he always asks for more than you can afford.”

“I can handle it, and if he tries anything, I have ways to deal with him,” I said, motioning at Crier.

He sneered. “You really don’t have any idea of how things work here do you?”

I wasn’t in the mood to deal with any of this. “Listen, I don’t care what you think. Leave Richard alone, or else. He’s helped me more than you have, so unless you have something I need, I don’t care what you think.” I slammed his door and stalked to my room. I had a lot of training to do with Crier that night and wanted to get started.

**

At breakfast the next morning I was edgy, and the music was almost overpowering in my mind. I tapped out the dirge on Crier even as I ate. Mrs. Jones came over, ignoring the look in my eyes that had everyone else looking away in fear. “Amber, I’m so happy you’ll be performing today. Are you ready? Is that enough for you to eat? It’s very important that you eat properly, you don’t want to be weak in front of everyone.”

“I’m fine,” I said. Her watery eyes became a little more watery. “Thank you. I hope you’ll be watching me.”

“Of course I will, my dear. I’ll be cheering you on, and taking pictures. So I hope you have something pretty chosen. Do you need help getting ready?”

“No, I have everything ready. Just make sure you cheer really loud so I can hear you,” I told her, trying to smile. She’d need to be loud, if she wanted me to hear her over the growling of the monsters I’d be facing. “How have you been? Is everyone being nice to you?”

“Oh yes,” she said, her face lighting up. “Everyone is so kind to me now. I don’t know why, but it’s so nice I’m just going with it.”

Paula walked in looking regal in a ball gown of fallen leaves. It gave even her bony body some small curves, her short blond hair looked like liquid gold. She looked at my own plain blue dress and sneered. Standing up, I patted Mrs. Jones hand, “I have to go talk to Paula.”

She clutched my arm. “Be careful. She is dangerous, and you can’t risk anything on this day. Not today.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” Gently taking her hand off of mine, I went to talk to my enemy and teacher. “This morning when do we start my lesson?” I asked.

“You’re lesson, Alex?” she asked. My muscles tightened as she gave me a look of perfect surprise. “Didn’t they tell you yesterday that we aren’t having lessons today. It was a total shock to me of course.”

I knew it, I knew she was going to screw me over. “What about learning how to greet an envoy? What the hell am I suppose to do at this party?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out. It’s not that hard if you have any social skills,” she told me with a smirk.

I was going to kill her. My left fist connected with her cheek, my right drew Crier ready to ram him into her gut. Paula should have been able to avoid it easily, but she just stood there and took it, before dodging out of the way of Crier, the blade nearly grazing her skin. For a second I looked at her as a small bruise rose on her white skin. There was cruel glint in her eye, and the smirk became worse. I wasn’t sure what was going through her head. I was about to attack again when I began screeching in agony.

I fell to the ground clutching my wrist, every bone in my right hand seemed to be broken. Through the tears I saw the skin on my hand shrivel and crack, I'd never felt such pain. The muscles twisted, turning my fingers into useless swollen claws. I wasn’t sure when I stopped screaming, all that existed for me was the sight of my useless hand and the flares of pain wracking my body. If I could have I’d have chopped my hand off, anything was better than this agony. Slowly the pain died down a little, enough that I could see and hear what was going on around me again. Still sobbing I tried to catch my breath. Paula knelt beside me, grinning like a cat.

“We had an oath, silly little boy,” she said, barely containing her laughter. “We swore we wouldn’t kill each other, sworn in each others presence with witnesses, in the heart of the fae. Didn’t Sam ever tell you what an oath meant, or was that something he kept to himself? You’ll recover in a few days, once you’ve learned your lesson. Be glad you didn’t actually hit me with your sword, you likely wouldn’t have survived the pain.”

Stumbling to my feet, Paula laughed again as I tried to glare at her. Cradling my hand, there was nothing I could do as she kissed her fingers and touched my tear stained cheek. “I can’t wait to see you at the party today. It will be so delightful watching you fight.”

Mrs. Jones came running up as soon as Paula was gone. I tried not to scream while she looked over my ruined hand. Every tear that fell from her eyes onto my hand burned. “I-I think… I will… need help w-with my costume,” I gasped. Leaning on her, we staggered to the infirmary.

**

The pain wouldn’t stop. We’d tried everything in the infirmary from pain eating slugs, healing salves, poultices for numbing, even ice and yet every time anything touched my cracked skin I wanted to scream as my muscle cramped. Eventually I grew accustomed to it, I could think again. The thinking didn’t make me feel better. I was right handed, I’d trained with Crier using my right hand. I could use a dagger or fan in my left hand, but that was about it.

And my right hand was useless.

Even the thought of holding Crier in my hand sent pulses of pain all along my arm. This was going to make the fight almost impossible to win.

Mrs. Jones was crying as she helped me get ready for the party. I was already wearing a pair of red gloves, I’d nearly passed out when she put it on over my hand, but at least the air wasn’t hurting it now. We chose an elegant read dress that matched my skin, it was easy to move in, allowing me to jump and kick at least. The sleeves were long, tapering off just below my fingers and the cuff was covered in silvery tassels. No one would see my wounded hand at least.

I went to a cabinet that had appeared in my room two days ago. Opening it revealed a large number of elegant weapons. There were daggers, iron fans, knives, a long chain of gold with jewels in each link and razor sharp edges, there were even some swords. I took an iron fan, it was light and I had trained with using fans in both my hands, there was a chance I could use it properly even left handed. It wasn’t much of a chance, but better a slim chance than no chance. The fan I chose wasn’t a folding Asian fan, but a very sturdy and heavy fan stores sometimes give away during the summer. It had an enamel handle, and the fan part was lined in what felt like stone. The surface of the fan wasn’t any type of cloth, I wasn’t actually sure what it was. I could look through the vivid blue background but it felt cold to the touch and as hard as steel. The fiery phoenix in the center flew and changed every time the fan moved, its’ feathers actually gave off heat, but when I felt it, it was like water.

Swinging with my left hand, I realized that this would have to be my weapon. I was going to feel naked without Crier, but what choice did I have?

“Are you sure you can’t cancel your performance, Amber?” Mrs. Jones asked me for the hundredth time. “I’m sure they’ll understand you’ve been injured.”

“No.” I knew Calandri wouldn’t allow it. She’d rather see me die elegantly than have to say I was injured and unable to perform.

“But how can you do anything with your hand like this?”

The dirge became louder. It wasn’t playing for anyone else, once more it was singing to me. “I’ll do what I can.”

The door opened, revealing a whisp. It was time. Grimacing in pain I left Crier on my bed and walked out of the room, firmly believing it would be for the last time.

It was hard to walk as I followed the whisp. It was hard to breath. I ignored everything around me, trying to bring the pain under some kind of control.

A running monologue was going through my brain. Breath in, breath out, concentrate on the cool air entering and warm air leaving. Take a step. Take another. Focus on the swishing of my skirt, how it hides my legs, No one will see my knee’s shaking, or the twitching of my muscles as the pain flows through my body. The glove, coated on the inside with useless healing sap, hides my injury. They’ll only see that I’m making a more interesting show for them. The Fae love shows, they love blood. I’m going to give them what they want.

The music hadn’t left my mind. It expanded. Every step was a note I felt in my bones.

Step. Die.

Step. Die.

Step. Die.

Step. Die.

The short walk went on for an eternity. I wanted Crier at my side. I wanted Sam.

A curtain of rain spread open, the drops bending to form a rounded arch allowing me to step through. There was polite applause, murmurs rose up as they saw I didn’t have my sword. The lower creatures actually flew, walked and swam through the air to point at my waist, their voices stayed at the same half understood mumbling I could barely hear, no matter how close they came.

I walked along a path of glowing moss, my slippered feet gently sank into the soft moss with every step creating clouds of pollen that made my skin itch and almost made me sneeze. The path curved and circled, sometimes branching into two, three even nine paths, and I had to walk it correctly, stepping on every part of it. My brain struggled to remember the two lessons I’d had, it wasn’t easy with the cloud of pain. Stay to the left. Move left, at every chance, if there was more than one path, and I came to it again, choose the first left I hadn’t walked down before until I reached the last one. After doing several loops that changed direction without actually turning around, having gravity change so I walked in a spiral between creatures that looked like as beautiful as angels and others more terrifying than demons, with faces of mist and fire dive bombing me to get a better look, trying to remember which path I’d taken was a maze of missteps. It helped a little that several times when I made the wrong choice, a fae would start to laugh, letting me step back and choose the right one.

From the glimpses I caught of Calandri, who was sitting on a granite stool a few meters from the Lord and Lady, I was not making a good impression. I tried not to care. But I still felt obligated to her, a needy little voice in my brain told me to do better. Biting my lip, trying to at least take my mind off the pain in my hand, I tried to concentrate even harder only on my steps, and not the things around me.

Finally I reached the central dais, the nobility of steading was sitting in a variety of chairs made from wood, rock, jewels, fire, ice, water, leaves, and more. There were four levels each one featuring higher ranked fae. Each one had different ritual. This was something Paula had trained me for.

I stopped at the edge of the moss, bowing my head. I tried to speak confidently, but my voice shook with pain. “I beg leave to enter your presence.”

No one said anything, a sign that I could move forward. Holding my head high, I stepped forward, giving a small curtsy to first one side and then the other. Holding onto my skirt with my ruined hand was so agonizing I felt tears in my eyes, but I did it. Standing up I walked back to the edge of the moss, and did the whole routine again. And then I did a third time. My hand was shaking by the time I could advance.

I put my foot on the first copper step leading to the next level. “I am the fighter of Mistress of the Forests Flame, Bringer… of Ash, and Renew- Renewal of Life, Calandri, I demand entrance to your presence, as is her right.” Again there was silence.

I went to the next step. “I am the fighter for the Bitter Winds Steading. I demand entrance to you presence, as… is my right.” Silence.

The last step, I was sweating from nervousness and pain. “I am Alex, the fighter and human of Bitter Winds Steading, servant of Calandri. I demand entrance to your presence.”

All eyes were on me as I walked forward. I curtsied deeper than before facing the Lord and Lady who were still well above me, holding the position for a count of thirty. I turned to the right, and did the same, followed by the left, and finally to those behind me. My fingers cramped by the time I was done.

Going to the final steps, which were pale silver, as if moonlight had been given shape, held by the thinnest of spider webs, I curtsied and bowed at the same time, my forehead touching the cool metal. Raising my head, I looked at the feet of the Lord and Lady. “My Lord. My Lady. I Alex, having sworn… fealty to Calandri, and to you both. As your fighter and loyal servant, I… humbly beg your leave to, to… come forward.”

I didn’t dare raise my head, but I could from the fire raging around Calandri’s ankles my stumbles were not going unnoticed. No one said anything, but I could hear laughter from the fae below. I stepped forward and knelt down spreading my skirt around me. The floor that was becoming colder by the second, bowing my head, I waited. I wasn’t sure what I was waiting for, Paula had told me to simply wait until I was spoken to or dismissed.

“Calandri,” the Lord said, his voice moaned like the wind of a blizzard. “Your pet is still not well trained.”

“I beg your forgiveness, my Lord. I am sure her fighting skills will prove most entertaining at least,” she said. I could tell from the clip of her voice that she was furious.

The Lady spoke, “Is this the fight where she dies? Or was that the last one?”

“No, the last was when she defeated the upstart servant with a whip,” replied the Lord.

“Wasn’t her skin blue for that?”

“I believe it was red, and she almost lost her head.”

“Wait, isn’t she a dancer? I remember her dancing on snowflakes soon.”

I kept my head down. Time had so little meaning here, I didn’t even try to understand what they were talking about. Although the casual way they talked of my death and near death experiences didn’t help the growing agony as my hand began to freeze. They continued talking about my fights that had had never happened to me, my deaths and victories. I couldn’t feel my knees by then, and my head ached from the cold.

“Whatever she will be doing, she has yet to greet the honoured envoy,” the Lady said, even more coldly than usual.

I stared at the floor, totally lost. As the silence stretched out, I glanced up. All eyes were on me, I couldn’t see a single glimmer of kindness or sympathy, there was fury, anger, contempt and amusement, and it was all aimed at me. I didn’t even know who the envoy was. Was it the Duke with the body of a Bobcat, stars for eyes and black holes for spots? Or maybe the Duchess who was made of glittering lights and six angel wings? The man covered in scales could possibly be the envoy. I didn’t know what rank he had, but the sunlight shining over his shoulders probably meant he was powerful. Then I saw what I needed to see, Crier. It was in a different sheathe, what looked like boiling blood, at the waist of a naked dog headed man. But now that I was looking at it, I could feel the familiar tug, begging me to use it. I winced as my hand tried to curl as if holding it already.

“I’m very sorry, honoured envoy. I was not taught how to greet you,” I said.

Calandri’s flames flared. The room filled with laughter. This was going to end badly, but there was nothing I could do. The Lord raised a hand, silencing the room instantly. “Calandri, I hope your poorly trained pet provides decent entertainment.”

“It will my Lord. One way or another,” she promised, heat dried the sweat of fear from my body as she spoke.

“Let us see what you can do human,” the Lord said, sounding bored with the everything.

As he spoke an icy wind picked me up, throwing me into an arena that hadn’t been there when I entered the room. I hit a dirt floor hard. Instinctively I rolled with it, trying to land safely. My right hand was crushed between my body and the soft earth. There was a scream, through the haze of pain, I realized it was my voice. Every roll jolted my hand, by the time I stopped I breathing was about the only thing I was capable of, and even that was a struggle. But there was a howl from something that didn’t sound like a dog, or even a wolf.

Somehow I got to my feet. Barely able to see through the curtain of tears, I pulled the fan out of my dress simply breaking the thin golden chain that looped around my neck like a necklace. The tiny sting on my neck was like spitting into the ocean of pain I was feeling. I was shaking, as I raised the stone edged fan behind me, my arm stretched out, ready to bring it down on the monster running through the audience. My useless hand, was held up to protect my chest and throat. I bent my knees, so I could dodge or kick. Or take a hit if there was no other choice.

My knees felt like water as the creature appeared. It was a dog, which almost looked normal. But its’ teeth were made of black glass, and it was the size of a small car. Adrenaline rushed through me, the pain faded a little enough for me to concentrate on the fact that I was going die. It saw me and didn’t waste any time, a cloud of dirt was kicked up as it rushed me snarling like a runaway train.

It was like fighting Sam, I couldn’t let it hit me. Dodge and weave. If I had Crier I’d feel confident, but using a small fan held in my off hand, I was going to need a miracle.

I waited until the last second before swinging to the side. It’s teeth actually snapped on the flowing tassels of my sleeve, which tore free. I brought the heavy fan down on its’ back leg. It was like hitting a metal post with a metal baseball bat. The dog whined, but it didn’t slow down in the slightest. I could hear its’ claws tearing into the rock under the dirt to turn faster and sharper than something its’ size should be able to.

Even as I tried to avoid the snapping teeth, I backhanded it with the fan on the nose. That got a yelp of pain and the animal backed away snarling, shaking its’ head in pain. The intelligent eyes watched me, as I put some distance between us. It focused on my right hand, which looked limp even hidden in the sleeve. It barked, shaking the room. I had to plant my feet to keep my balance as I was hit with a blast of air, that smelled of rotten meat and covered me in slimy spit.

Before I could even blink my eyes clear, the dog was in the air and practically on top of me. I had no time do anything except drop, sprawling as flat as possible, hoping it would keep going. There was a loud thump less than a meter past me, and a tail thicker than most trees, hit my back. It wasn’t too hard but it wasn’t expected. Using my legs alone I pushed myself out from under the spiky fur, while lifting myself on my elbows. The dog chose that minute to stand, freeing me from its’ tail. I rocketed forward, slamming my face into the ground.

I heard it snarl, rolling onto my back, there was only a mass of teeth and a barbed tongue. Bringing up the fan, I threw all of my weight behind it, there was a crack as my fan hit the dogs jaw, pushing it to the side with a whine. The short fur of the muzzle brushed my shoulder even as its bruised nose hit the ground. Not thinking, I jabbed the fan into the saucer like eye. As it jumped away, I almost lost my weapon. I didn’t, but I was jerked hard enough that I thought my shoulder was going to be dislocated.

It landed on the other side of the square, pawing it’s ruined right eye. Unsteadily I got to my feet and flicked away the slime covering my fan and hand. We were both wounded now, but it could still win a lot more easily than me. We faced each other moving in a circle, never taking our eyes off the other, even as I tried to get on its’ blind side, it would just retreat or hop forward forcing me to back off. It soon tired of the face off, and ran at me keeping low to the ground. I moved to its blind spot, but it was obviously expecting that.

Twisting, the hand size teeth grazed my thigh and hip. I felt the teeth splinter, embedding themselves into my muscles. I hit its neck in turn, but the fur was so thick there the dog didn’t even feel it. Limping, bleeding and in even more pain I hobbled away, the monster howled in victory even as it turned to face me again.

My dress was badly ripped, I almost tripped on it as it caught around my feet. Cursing I grabbed it with my bad hand, tearing it away. The fabric tore easily, and before the dog could attack again, my legs were free. Everyone could see my underwear, but honestly at that point it was the least of my worries. Kneeling, ready to jump, I picked up the ruined skirt, pushing my useless limb through it so it hung like a matadors cape. Now it wouldn’t be able to see which way I was likely to jump.

It came at me again, running low. Jerking the cape to the left, I moved to the right. The monster fell for it. I spun on my toes, bringing the fan down on its skull. The dog hit the ground, stunned. I didn’t have a chance to enjoy the victory, my fan shattered leaving me holding a handle, some fabric and half the stone frame.

I didn’t let it slow me down, hitting it again. The stone shattered completely, barely denting the dogs’ skull. It growled and whined, rising to its feet. I had to limp away, holding a useless enamel handle. I was about to die, and I knew if I had Crier, I’d have killed this thing in a minute or two. Yet the fury refused to let me go easily. Even as the dog shook itself trying to recover, I wrapped the remains of the skirt around my arm, padding it as much as possible.

It roared again, charging me in what we both knew would be the last attack, unless I wanted to simply dodge until I fell over from exhaustion. I braced myself, holding my pitiful padded armour before me, and the enamel handle in my off hand. There was no strategy in its attack, it saw my arm protecting my neck and head and aimed for that. I purposefully waited a split second too long so there was no chance for it to avoid my own strike. I almost made it.

A single tooth tore into my ruined hand. The pain was so intense I felt myself blacking out. I couldn’t even scream, my throat was paralysed. But I’d worked through pain, my left hand was moving through the air with all my strength behind it. The pitiful, cracked and broken handle went into the weeping eye socket and kept going, straight into the monsters brain.

It fell, I fell with it, dragged down by the tooth that pierced my hand.

I wanted to throw up from pain.

All around me I heard applause. The monsters body disappeared, leaving my hand bloody injured and in agony, but free. Somehow, through the red haze of pain, I saw Paula glaring at me. The fury rose in me once more. On muscles that seemed more like rubber, I got to my feet.

From the noise, it seemed like I’d impressed them after my humiliation. It didn’t seem real, more like a dream. All I could think about was that I could go to the infirmary heal my wounds and then collapse in bed until the curse on my hand wore off. I deserved it. But as I took a few hesitant steps to the edge of the ring, the envoy appeared before me, in all his naked, dog headed glory.

I stopped so suddenly I fell to my knees. Which gave me a clear view of its’ crotch which was something I never wanted to see so closely.

“Lord, I see your fighter was victorious, using a pitiful weapon. But I am curious why it didn’t use a much better weapon, this one to be precise,” he said surprisingly clearly, holding up Crier. “Somehow this pet has a copy of my sword, I wish to see it.”

From where I was kneeling, I couldn’t see what the Lord was doing, but Crier was suddenly between the two of us. It didn’t appear in a flash of light or anything fancy like that, it simply looked like it had been there all along. I reached for it, but the envoy moved like lightening, grasping it before I could move more than an inch.

“Tell me pet, where did you get Crier of Souls?”

“I gave it to me.”

“So you defeated me for it. Impressive. Can you do it again?” he asked. “Lord, your pet has now insulted me twice. First by its’ pitiful attempt at social graces, and now by having my own weapon. I demand satisfaction!”

The Lord spoke, “It’s your right. You may fight her if you wish. But she is injured, lets make this sporting. You must kill her or make her concede, but if she gets first blood she wins and honour is satisfied.”

“Fine,” the envoy agreed, he sounded very pleased with the arrangements. “But, if she concedes I get her as my own pet and I get my sword. If she succeeds, somehow, I will give her my sword and allow her to live.”

“Agreed.”

I knelt there barely comprehending. I was injured, exhausted, weaponless, and they expected me to fight a duel. I might as well surrender. A memory of me performing tricks for a dog headed fae rose in my mind. A snarl rose in my throat. I’d die first. “I-I don’t have a weapon. This won’t be very interesting, or long,” I said as loudly as I could.

“She’s right. Give her her weapon, we want this to be a fair challenge,” the Lord said.

A fair challenge! A fair fight would be if I was healed. The envoy dropped my Crier at my feet, before turning his back on me like I was less than nothing, and walked to the far side of the arena. I picked up Crier awkwardly in my left hand, for the second time today I expected to die. A sudden insane thought rose in my pain addled brain. “My Lord, I simply have to achieve first blood to win?”

“Yes.”

I pulled Crier from his sheath. A smile was on my lips. I would probably die anyways, but it was a chance.

Seeing us both ready, the audience leaned forward, expecting to see me die painfully. “Begin!”

The envoy sauntered towards me, clearly enjoying himself.

Before he made it three steps, I brought Crier down and sliced my own leg. As the blood ran down my thigh, I raised my sword high into the air letting the dark red blood show clearly in the light. “First blood!” I shouted.

The audience began to laugh, the envoy roared and rushed at me. A cage of ice surrounded him. “We did say first blood. We never specified who’s blood she must draw,” the Lady said. “You are clever fighter. Continue to amuse us.”

I hoped she didn’t want me to amuse her at that moment. From the pain, the wounds and now blood loss, I fainted.

I woke up in pain.

My leg and hip felt fine, but my right hand was icy cold and cramped. Mrs. Jones was sleeping at my side, blood smeared on her clothes, still she was smiling peacefully. Easing myself out of bed, I found I was dressed in a nightgown. For at least the tenth time I wondered what was up with people constantly putting me to bed and changing my clothes every time I was injured. Raising the hem, I saw my leg was perfectly healed without even a mark. My hand wasn’t so lucky.

The skin was still stretched tight, tearing in places, leaking blood and clear liquid. The dogs’ tooth had pierced my hand, just at the edge, below my little finger. My finger sat at an angle, puffy, brilliant red, even more than usual, and oozing pus. Leaves and sap were packed inside the hole and all around the finger, if they actually helped I didn’t know. But even the slight breeze that kept my room comfortable, made it hurt. I stumbled to the bathroom, my throat was dry and it seemed like my head was on fire.

Only using my left hand I rubbed cool water all on my face and hair, which helped a little. Then I drank straight from the tap, tilting my head as far as I could not wanting to lose a single drop, until I could hear it sloshing in my stomach. It didn’t help, my throat still felt as dry as dust. Giving up I went to get dressed, wondering how I’d be able to do anything without my right hand. Opening the wardrobe I saw Crier had been put inside resting at the bottom on my cloth slippers. Picking it up, I was overwhelmed by something I couldn’t comprehend at first. It was so strong, so intense I collapsed onto the ground.

I felt power.

I had defeated a monster made to kill me with a pathetic weapon, that was more for show than actual fighting. I’d outsmarted the fae with a single question. I’d faced the worst that Paula could throw at me, walking into her trap like an idiot and come out stronger. I’d faced all of their challenges and I hadn’t given up. I hadn’t surrendered. I had succeeded, learned and grew ever more powerful. A voice whispered in my mind, I wasn’t sure if it was me or Crier, but it promised that soon, very soon, all those who wanted to hurt me would regret it. It spoke with such certainty, I had to believe it.

Crier seemed to be heavier, sharper, more real. Even while holding it in my off hand, I could see myself slitting Calandri’s throat. Attacking the Lord and his Lady, pinning their dead bodies to their thrones. Making Paula beg on her knees before taking her head. Forcing Jasper to make me stronger, better than before. All I needed was a chance to heal and a little more training.

My lips curled, it took me a few seconds to realize I was smiling.

**
Dressed in a loose, sleeveless blouse and a long skirt, I stalked into the cafeteria. Crier felt odd, it was on the wrong side, so I could draw it with my left hand rather than my right, but I felt stronger, better with it at the ready. The people watched me, I saw fear in their eyes and my smile got wider. Richard was sitting on a small mushroom in the corner. Grabbing some random leaves and twigs in my good hand, I walked over to him.

He avoided looking at my eyes, but he smiled broadly as I sat down. “Alex, I am so happy you survived yesterday. You truly are remarkable.”

“Thanks. I need information and I don’t care how much it costs. How do I break an oath without getting hurt?”

His eyes widened slightly, glancing at my ruined hand. “That is not easily done. Oaths are what binds things together in this land, breaking them as you saw, always comes at a cost.”

“Tell me how I can do it without dying. Like I said, I don’t care about costs.”

“It will take time to discover a way. I have heard of some methods, but they take oaths far more seriously than anything else here. You must move carefully or it will bring down the fae’s anger,” he whispered.

Leaning forward, forcing him to look into my eyes, making him flinch, I said, “Make sure they’re pointed at me when they get angry. I will deal with them. All you have to do is tell me how, and that is enough.”

“I-I’ll start looking. But you will owe me a very large favour.” At my nod he got up and walked away as quickly as possible, his long fingers twitching and flicking so much it was like they were worms being eaten by ants.

As soon as Richard had left three big men stood up and walked over to me. I looked up at the now familiar blue face of Omar, he loomed over me, scowling and cracking his knuckles. All of them were at least twice as big as I was and far more muscular. I raised an eyebrow while eating my food, waiting for them to say something. The music started playing in my head once more, but it wasn’t for me this time.

“Doing another favour for Richard?” Omar demanded.

“Not yet. But if he gets me what I need, I’ll owe him. Are you scared?” The two men behind Omar looked nervous. They probably didn’t expect a girl to challenge them. Well I wasn’t a girl, and I wasn’t alone. Crier hummed at my side, happy that I’d soon be adding more souls to mourn.

“We respect you. You’re young and got dealt a bad hand, but you were doing well, minding your own business and surviving. Now you’re working with the little bastard Richard, and he wants to screw everything over for his own gain. You are his trump card, and that has us worried. Just drop him and nothing will happen,” he said.

I spoke slowly and carefully, making sure they heard the anger in my voice. “The only people who have helped me, have been Sam and Mrs. Jones. I killed Sam when he betrayed me and tried to kill me. Mrs. Jones is crazy, thinks I’m her daughter, and is practically helpless. Richard and I work together with an understanding. He has the information I need to survive, I have a sword. If he tries to screw me over, I’ll kill him. If I screw him over I lose the information and he tells people everything he knows about me. What have you done to help me?”

“We aren’t a support service, and you weren’t exactly making yourself well known,” he said.

“That’s your problem now, not mine. If you have something I need let me know, I’ll make a trade. Otherwise you’re wasting my time.”

“What do you need?” he asked. Lifting my infected hand, I let him guess what my most immediate problem was. “That’s an oath breakers wound. You’ll need powerful magic to heal it.”

As if I didn’t know that. “Do you know where I can get some?”

He shook his head. “Can’t help you. You’ll need to ask your keeper.”

“Well that was helpful. If I see you on fire, I may piss on you to put it out.”

I heard someone growling, probably the hairy guy who looked a little like big foot. Omar held up his hand, quieting him. “Listen Alex, we’re trying to be reasonable. Everything is nice and stable here now, we don’t need you or anyone else tearing everything apart in some struggle to be top dog of the slaves.”

“I just want Paula to leave me alone. She can do it willingly, or we can see who’s the better dancer.”

That got a laugh. “Are you an idiot? You saw what happened the last time you hit her.”

“If she tries to pull another trick like she did yesterday, I won’t care what happens to me as long as my face is the last thing she sees.” I was out of my chair and jumping over a mushroom table a full second before Omar’s foot crushed the stiff leafy bush I’d been using as a chair. Crier came out, its dark blade absorbed the light, I heard it calling for blood.

The three men drew their own weapons, thick clubs for the two I didn’t know. Omar closed his eyes for a second, his tattoos joined together, flowing down his arm. In the time it took to blink, he was holding a rainbow sword that was longer than I was tall, it was see through and made of ink, but the edge looked sharp. “If you leave right now, I won’t do a thing. But if you try to hurt me, I’ll make sure you regret it for a very, very long time,” I said, giving them one last chance to back off.

“Sorry kid. Paula has a lot more pull than you,” Omar said, edging towards me, while the other two spread out to make sure I didn’t run. Sin came in and sat down, smiling as if this was a hockey game.

The last bit of the old me panicked, screaming at me to run away, to call for help, to beg them to stop. It was pushed away in a wave of anger. They wanted to attack me, to hurt me. I hadn’t done anything to them, except tell Omar to leave Richard alone. Everyone wanted to hurt me. Even Sam had wanted to hurt me at the end. His dark eyes flashed through my mind, how when I first got Crier it looked like he was going to kill me. How easily he had decided to kill me when we'd been ordered to fight. I thought he would help me, but it was all a lie. Lies. Lies. Lies.

My own family had abandoned me for a fake. Hitting me, calling the police, threatening me.

There was only me.

A child against the world.

A child with a sword.

A child who was a killer.

I threw myself at the hairy man, laughing madly. Crier cut through his club as if it was paper. He fell backwards with a cry. My blade flickered, slicing deep into the bottom of his shoeless feet, leaving him screaming. Spinning away, easily dodging Omars’ blade, I kicked him on the side of his knee. If I’d been normal, it wouldn’t have done much. But with my hardened muscles, trained over the last two months under the brutal eye of Crier and Calandri, it made him fall with a grimace of pain.

Ignoring him, I attacked the third man, who looked completely normal except for his large, well-muscled gut, like a sumo wrestler.. He was staring in shock at how quickly his companions had fallen. He tried to hit me with a club that looked like a leather covered bone, studded with bronze bolts, it was too high, I barely had to duck. Crier crisscrossed his stomach, cutting into the muscle, painful but not lethal. He turned and ran, screaming in pain.

Omar was back on his feet. He swung again, aiming for my chest. I rolled under the blow, coming to my knees just behind him. With a savage smile, I cut his Achilles tendon. He screamed and fell on his face. The tattoo sword slithered back onto his skin like a colourful leech. I sliced his other tendon, I didn’t want him moving.

He was struggling on his hands and knees, trying to get away, that wouldn’t do. My foot lashed out, hitting his cheek. There was the crack of bone, he fell again barely able to groan.

Something was pushing at my mind, trying to move my muscles. I wasn’t sure what it was, but decided to go with it. Jumping on Omars’ back I placed my ruined right hand on his, pressing hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. Throwing Crier spinning into the air, I caught the sword so the blade was straight down. The next thought was insane, but I felt Crier heating up, there was energy in it that needed to be released. Black metal moved in a blur, piercing both our hands to the floor.

We screamed.

My dark, infected blood flowed over his hand. His own blood flowed up into mine. The fever and pain moved through my veins, clenching my heart in an iron grip. The scream became a shriek. Then it moved on, going down my arm, into my hand and into his. Omar went rigid, paralysed from pain. His warm skin became burning hot. The tattoos turned into shrieking faces. His head banged against the floor. Crier glowed a sickly, pulsing green, every pulse moved more of the infection and wounds from me into my attacker.

The pain stopped, there was only a dull ache from my hand. Pulling Crier out, made me hiss in pain. Omar's howling overpowered that sign of weakness. His hand was throbbing and as sickly looking as mine had been just moments before. Looking at my hand, the skin was still too tight and too red, but it was bearable. The almost incision like cut was clean more like a nasty paper cut than anything else.

I turned on big foot, who was looking at me in complete horror. “I am not weak. I am not a pawn. If Paula wants to fight me tell her to get it over with, and not to send idiots like you. If you get in my way again, I will kill you.”

Sin began clapping. I ignored her and walked out. Calandri would probably be coming for me soon, and I needed to be calm for that.

Crier rested on my lap, almost humming with power. Mrs. Jones was still asleep on my bed, she must have stayed up most of the night. My hand barely hurt, although my fingers were stiff and my skin still cracked and bled if I moved it too quickly. It had been over two hours and Calandri still hadn’t come to see me, that had me worried yet happy. It had looked like she was ready to kill me just before the fight. I hadn’t gotten a look at her afterwards, so it was possible she had been mollified.

Not likely.

“I must thank you, Alex,” a deep voice said.

My head snapped up, Crier rose up ready kill whoever thought they could come into my room without permission. Just as quickly the sword was back on my lap. It was Crier. He looked different, he was still tall and very thin, with gleaming eyes that weeped constantly. But he was solid, standing in what counted as reality here. His long fingers were tipped with razor sharp, black nails. Everything about him screamed danger. “What did I do?”

“You defeated my master in battle twice, winning me twice, something that has never been done before. I am now more powerful than I had thought possible. Did you not wonder who was controlling your hand today when I healed you?” He bowed graciously to me.

“Can you defeat Calandri now?”

He raised his eyebrow, eyeing me with his dark pearl like eyes. “That depends on you. I’m simply a tool. A powerful tool, but a tool nonetheless.”

I thought about that. I hated Calandri for capturing me. For everything she had done, the beatings, the threats. But she’d shown me so much, taught me what I needed to survive, shown me bits of kindness. I didn’t want to disappoint her, but at the same time I wanted to cut her head off. One hand ran through my long dark hair, while my other hand stroked my blade. I could feel my hand burning again, but I also remembered her stroking my hair asking me to do well. I had threatened to kill her, I’d tried to. But that had been because she wanted me to train with Paula, not because I hated her. “I don’t know.”

“Then, until you know you cannot kill her.”

“Can I kill Paula? With your protection, will I get hurt hitting her?”

He shook his head. “Even I am not that powerful. I can pass on the wound to others, lessening it. But to kill her, the curse will strike too quickly. You would die of pain within seconds.”

I wasn’t sure what else to ask. It seemed there weren’t any easy answers. Crier waited patiently, his eyes moved constantly, taking everything in. As I watched him, a thought struck me. Slowly I reached out to touched him, to see if he was real. His own hand moved to mine, touching my fingers. His skin was cold, unbending, like metal. He smiled coldly.

“Could you fight someone, like this?”

“No. I will not fight your battles for you. I can only help. Making you faster, stronger, increase your skill. What you do with that, is up to you. You will need to decide these things soon. You are making enemies, and threatening those you do not know yet. I am not sure if you are capable of surviving.” The tears fell a little faster. “If you do not, I will remember you most fondly, possibly more than the other you.”

“Thank you. But I don’t plan on dying.”

He smiled. “Most people do not get the chance on deciding their death. But it will be most interesting to watch.” He looked at the door. “I must go now, but tonight we will train again. Good luck Alex, I’ll be watching.”

The door slammed opened for Calandri. Crier had vanished, leaving me and the sleeping Mrs. Jones to handle the furious fae.

“Hello Calandri,” I said as evenly as possible. My emotions were at war, one part of me wanted to cower, the other was like a rabid dog, snarling and snapping wanting blood.

Smoke rose from her body, her eyes were raging bonfires in miniature. The red skin shifted in the light flickering with yellow, orange and blue. “How stupid can you be?”

“I’m smart enough to know that I didn’t have a chance to succeed with Paula as my teacher.” I cursed silently, my voice was high pitched, whiny, begging. I could feel Criers disgust.

“Pathetic little brat! You couldn’t remember a few simple lines! You almost lost the fight to a dog. And you humiliated the envoy! Is there one, single thing you’re good at?”

The words stung. I wanted to curl up and vanish. My body burned from shame and memories of flesh scorched by her hand. Knees shaking, I felt tears welling up. My nose was itchy, I was sniffling, and ready to piss my pants as she screamed at me. She was right. I should have tried harder, should have done more. I had screwed up so badly. Sure I’d gotten lucky, but it was only luck that had kept me alive.

My hands clenched in shame. The skin on my right hand tore, lances of pain from cramped muscles shot up my arm.

The pain helped. I saw Paula’s faces sneering at me.

I got to my feet. My face twitched, a growl filled my head. “I was given an impossible task. I survived. I couldn’t use my hand. I killed the dog. I was barely able to think. I was smarter than the damn envoy. You want to yell at me. I. Don’t. Care. You can kill me or leave me alone.”

“You insolent animal!” she screeched.

I braced myself as she attacked me. Crier laughed in my mind ready to kill. We were both startled when Mrs. Jones ran in between us, screaming at Calandri to leave me alone. In her frumpy dress, tears pouring down her wet face, it was almost comical, but it was enough to stop the fae with her hands of fire, and myself with Crier ready to kill.

“Amber! Get away! I’ll slow her down,” Mrs. Jones yelled at me. Even if I had wanted to this wasn’t such a good plan as there was only one way out and Calandri was in the way. But there was no way I was going run. There could only be one way this would end, and there was going to be blood on the floor.

Calandri looked confused at this change of events, and stepped forward. “Move woman.” Fire erupted around her.

Mrs. Jones trembled but held her ground. “NO! I won’t let you hurt her again!”

My foot sent the old woman flying to the floor. So my leg was caught in a ball of fire instead of her. The kick was so fast, there wasn’t a chance to really burn me, but it still stung. I used my momentum and swung Crier as hard as I could. The fae turned into a living flame, Crier glowed with heat. I dodged fists of fire, not even bothering to swing, moving backwards from the blistering heat. A fist grazed my face, the scent of burning hair filled the room.

Calandri stopped. A mouth of white hot flame formed. “I grow tired of this slave. You want to defy me, than I take my gifts back. Let us see how long you survive as you once were.”

My body changed shifting. The colour left my skin leaving it lightly tanned. My hips shrank, moving upwards into my waist, stretching and snapping the hem of the skirt. The cloth shoes split apart from suddenly trying to hold feet too large and wide for them. The loose blouse became too small on the shoulders and too large in the chest. My hair tickled my neck as it raced back into my scalp. Limbs became longer, muscle turned into fat. There was an intense pain between my legs, my panties were cutting into my privates.

I took a step forward, stumbling as my center of balance changed completely. Swinging Crier, it was as if I was moving in slow motion. Calandri stepped aside from my feeble blow. “Good bye, Ant. Let us see if this will teach you proper respect.”

She vanished, leaving me in pain, struggling to understand what had happened. Mrs. Jones ran over to me, asking what she could do to help me.

Someone was laughing. It was loud, uncontrolled, wild, deeper than I was used to. The one thing I’d dreamed about for months had happened. I started screaming.

I was weak again.

Helpless.

**

I stared at my body in shock Mrs. Jones rushed to my side, crying. The dress I was wearing looked ludicrous on me now. Too short, too tight, the shoes were split along the seams for my larger male feet.

Clumsily, unsure of myself with the change in my body I walked to the bed. Before I moved like a dancer, a predator, a tiger stalking its prey. Now my feet hit the floor with loud thuds, my chubby stomach shook with every step, the muscles which had rippled under my skin, now moved under a layer of fat. I fell onto the bed, tears streaming down my face.

Staring at my thick, short fingers I tried to stop crying. I'd wanted to be a boy, hadn't I? I dreamed of turning back into a boy. But that was when I thought I could go home. Now someone else was there, living my life. The only thing left for me was here, and here I could only survive by fighting.

I thought about it, boys were stronger than girls. I could do this. I just had to get use to my body again. Still ignoring Mrs. Jones, I stood and picked up Crier. Holding the black blade in front of me, I practiced the moves I'd been taught. I was clumsy, I was slow, but I knew better than to think I'd be able to do everything instantly. It was a matter of persistence, figuring out how to move again now that my body was changed.

Ten minutes later I was sweating, my arms shaking. Putting Crier down, I kicked the bed post. Stumbling, my toes rather the side of my foot, hit the hard wooden post. Falling onto my ass, screaming and clutching my broken toes, I realized it would take months to regain the muscle and even longer to become anywhere close to the agility I once had, if I even could.

Mrs. Jones helped me limp to the infirmary.

**

That night, hungry from skipping dinner, I held Crier in my hands.

“Why didn't you help me?” I asked the sword.

“You failed. You had a chance to kill her but you did not,” the deep voice of the sword filled my head.

I snorted, “When did I have a chance?”

A vision came to my eyes. Rather than kicking Mrs. Jones out of the way, I stabbed her. Blood flew from her stomach, even as she screamed silently. The girl me, pushed the blade hard, stabbing the surprised Calandri in the gut. They fell, sliding off Crier with a sickening, sucking sound. I hacked off Calandri's head, she collapsed into cold, grey ash. Mrs. Jones, writhed in pain for a few seconds before growing still.

I threw the sword away, disgusted. “I was suppose to kill her? That was your big plan? Kill the one person who actually cares about me?!”

“The only thing that matters is victory,” Crier snarled. “The old you knew that. Mercy. Sympathy. Love. What have they given you? You've been beaten, humiliated, robbed, threatened and broken. When you are strong, you can afford to show leniency and mercy. You are weak, and because of your weakness you are about to lose everything you have left.”

“You want me to be a murderer!”

Sam, Paula, and the strange blue me, walked out of the shadows. “You are not a murderer, you are a killer. The sooner you realize that the easier it will be for you. What did you think would happen? That those who only understand the self would care for others?”

I stepped away from the accusing faces of the people I'd kill. “I killed to defend myself. I won't kill people who don't deserve it.”

A wave of contempt washed over me, greater than anything I'd felt before. “Then you are unworthy of me. When you are once more a warrior, come and we may train again. Until then I refuse to be sullied by your hands.” The dead rose up, surrounding the sword. Their dead eyes stared at me, bloody lips curled and twisted.

Feeling sick, I fled my room.

**

No one saw me as I staggered into the garden. I fell to my knees staring into a pool of ebony. The black liquid reflected my face perfectly.

I stared at my pale skin, so different from the fiery red I had grown used to. The blunt features, the baby fat. So different from the girl I had been. Not just the appearance was different, everything about me had changed. Where there had been strength was now weakness. Determination replaced by fear. Sadness changed to terror. I was going to die.

If Paula didn't order my death, I would die the next time they expected me to fight. For the first time since coming here, there was no uncertainty, no doubt, no second chances. Even the dirge in my head had faded away, there was no need for it now. I couldn't defend myself like this. Every breath was just one more stolen moment before the inevitable.

The door opened, heavy footsteps came towards me.

Trembling I saw Omar and his two followers coming towards me. I tried to get away, but big foot took two long strides and grabbed my arm, wrenching me back. It felt like my shoulder was dislocated. They smiled cruelly, pulling out clubs.”

“Well, well. We'd heard from a good source that you had lost your strength, Ant. But to see you like this? They say paybacks a bitch, lets find out,” Omar said, drawing his fist back as I struggled to get away.

I pissed myself as the fist hit my kidneys. Breathing was impossible. Tears of pain watered the soft, silky grass. Clubs of straw, that were as hard as steel and sharp as razors came down. Bones cracked, blood fell. I screamed.

Years later the beating stopped, I couldn't move, I couldn't fall into oblivion, I couldn't stop hurting. Something slimy and wet hit my face. I couldn't see clearly through the blood, everything shifted, spinning, making me want to vomit. I saw first three, then two, then six faces looking down on me.

A voice came to my ears, as loud as thunder against my aching head, yet a million miles away. “You're Paula's bitch. Do exactly what she wants, and we'll let you live. If we have to have this conversation a second time, you won't be able to crawl away.”

The faces vanished.

Rolling to my knees, I crawled away. Sobbing as broken bones ground against each other, I didn't know where I was going, as long as it was away from this hell. There was nothing good here. Nothing worth dying for. Nothing worth living for. Better to crawl away until I died or got somewhere better.

I could hear the blood moving through my veins, my heart pounding in my chest. It hurt. It proved I was still alive. Each pulse burned with energy. The energy was music to my ears.

Die.

Die.

Die.

Die.

Die.

The music sang to me, pulling me down. The garden turned dark. Water burning like fire covered my arms and legs. Stone birds flew through the air cawing in laughter. Roses spit on me, freezing my skin, making it crack and break.

Somehow I survived and kept crawling.

The pain built up, growing worse and worse. Every move threatened to kill me. As the fae laughed, the spark of anger grew brighter. They had done this to me. They had brought me here. They had broken me. Now they laughed.

The song in my head, in my blood changed. I heard its true words for the first time.

KILL!

KILL!

KILL!

KILL!

I would see them die.

I'd make them beg for mercy.

All of them would pay.

Every punch. Every kick. Every burn. Every moment of fear I had felt. I would make them pay.

It became brighter. The water turned to crystal. A deathly quiet surrounded me. Cool wind caressed my skin. The song became louder. Footsteps came towards me, falling in time with the music in my head. I blinked my eyes trying to see clearly. Beneath the floor, I saw a memory.

Sam and I, the new me, the better me, were walking down a hallway. I remembered the brilliant red leotard and tights, the matching cloth shoes. Back at the very beginning, my first day in hell. A snarl came from my aching throat. Sam, the person who said he would help me, alive and well. Laughing at weak, little me. Thinking about how he could kill me. And myself, weak, helpless, scared of everything. I'd been given strength and skills to survive, and I'd wasted so much time cowering. If I'd been stronger earlier, I could have survived. She wasted it. She didn't deserve to live.

She saw me looking at her, fear filled her. I wanted to grab my body back. Pounding on the glass, I heard something crack. It took me a few more hits to realize the crack wasn't from the crystal, but my arm.

Crying in rage I gave up, continuing to crawl forwards. Desperately searching for my strength.

**

“What is this?” someone asked.

I had no idea how I'd arrived in the meadow, who was speaking to me, or even how long I'd been crawling for. “Who are you?” I groaned.

“My, my it's the fighter. You lost a fight?” the person asked.

I looked up into the face of Jasper. I smiled. “Y-you want... to make a ma-ster...piece?”

His face lit up, the leaves forming his hair turned greener. “I may turn you into a true work of art?”

Strength filled me. “You ca-can turn me in-to a killer. Make... sure I... can... u-se a sword.”

“Agreed,” he whispered.

That was enough. I passed out before his rough hands could touch me.

I woke up without any pain.

My body was numb, not like I was drugged, but like what happens when you stay up too long and your body craves sleep. Slime encrusted my eyes, making it impossible to open them. From the cold, wet feeling, the slime covered my face, even opening my mouth didn't seem possible.

Laying there, trying to feel something, I realized I hadn't breathed for at least two minutes. My lungs started to feel uncomfortable. Not hurting or burning like when you are desperate for air, just a gentle reminder that air is necessary. The slime filled my nose, making breathing impossible.

I thought about raising my arm to my mouth, it seemed like too much work. It was peaceful, for the first time I was calm when outside of a dance. Why disturb it until I really needed to breathe? I started counting the seconds.

When I reached two hundred, I finally needed to take a breath. Lazily my hand went to my mouth. At least I tried.

Something slammed into my face, I tasted blood on my tongue, it felt like I'd been lightly punched. My hand was touching air, my forearm was covered in greasy, cold liquid. Dragging my arm across my face, I could breath again. More carefully, my hand wiped the slime away, letting me open my eyes, the room was full of colours I couldn't describe.

I saw all the usual colours, but there were others that I'd never seen before, brighter than the sun, darker than the depths of the deepest ocean. The pine trees, rocks, grass and water surrounding me changed and wavered, shifting shape, melting, turning into gas, changing elements, solidifying into squares with eight sides, spinning in place, and moving a thousand kilometers away at the same time, yet remaining stubbornly solid.

A hand picked up a pebble. It hummed, vibrating so gently I couldn't see it moving. But I knew it was dancing to a song only the universe could hear. As I watched, the humming changed, it grew legs, crawling onto the arm holding it. Eggs fell from its hard body, they drilled into the pale flesh, blossoms of amber erupted from the holes, forming vines and thorns, circling the slender arm, driving roots and thorns into the veins and skin, thickening as they drank deeply.

The long fingers, my fingers, bent as the amber plant-animal encased them, cracking as I moved, forming joints. Thorns or maybe claws burst forth in showers of red from my knuckles and fingertips. Every twitch of my hand clicked like the mandibles of an insect.

My right hand moved of its own accord, it was larger than I remembered, the skin was dark red, the colour of fresh blood. Making a fist, muscles bulged, the knuckles looked almost sharp under the thick leathery skin. Long feminine nails tipped each finger, they were blue, like the water, tipped with whitecaps that roared with the power of the ocean.

Hair tickled my naked back, blowing in a non-existent wind. It felt like wires. Shaking my head, it sounded like screeching metal. Cold, golden wires fell over my eyes, they gleamed in the dim light. Blood beaded on the strands, disappearing a second later.

Looking down, there were breasts, small, firm, muscular. My skin glittered in the unearthly colours I shouldn't be able to see. Spinning, I glowed like a prism, a hundred different colours laughed and danced around me.

Hooves of moonlight, as flexible as my old feet, edged with razors of flames, burning the ground where I stood. The silver light turned into blood red skin as it rose up my smooth, muscular, legs. Stepping forward I felt as light as air, as fast as lightning. The humming of reality screamed with each stepped, changing, recoiling, repulsed and drawn to me.

The grass turned into a perfectly smooth mirror. My vision saw the perfection in it. Kneeling down, I caressed it, my skin was electrified where it touched. My face, my adult female face, looked back at me. I kissed it. Feeling the hard lips, covered in tiny thorns, dripping with poisons, my reflection bled as I did I. My tongue reached out, running over icy fangs, bleeding, hurting, needing more.

Stopping myself, I got to my knees. The mirror was red, cracking where I had kissed it. Snapping, groaning, shattering, I laughed at the pretty music.

Jasper looked at me, his face that humans could see was joyous. The other faces, the faces of the fae, shuddered, whether in ecstasy or horror I didn't know. I didn't care. I could see that he was weak. Desperate for power, yet limited, servile. But useful. A warrior needs a craftsman, and he was an expert in his craft.

Walking on thunder, I went to him, towering over his once terrifying form.

“You've done well. Continue to help me, and you shall be rewarded,” I told him. My smile split my face apart, my voice was the fluttering of butterfly wings.

“Thank you,” he preened. “I will of course help my greatest creation.”

"Can Calandri change me, like she did before?" I asked.

"So long as she's you're leader there is nothing I can do to stop that. But to change you now, she'd be a fool," he said, looking at me with love.

The answer didn't satisfy me, but that was not his fault. I kissed his forehead.

Turning away, I howled into the air. For once it was not in pain, not in terror. It was a greeting. A greeting from a warrior shouting her power to the world and challengers. Demanding respect until someone greater appeared who could defeat me.

Fae came out of the woods, eager to see what new thing had been created, like children running to see a parade.

Watching them, I looked for what I needed. A human like rose, came from a bush of thorns, garbed in a dress of pink and green. I was on her before she could scream, my hand on her throat, my lips almost touching her mouth, my amber claws pressing into her stomach. “I need clothes,” I whispered. “Give me yours.”

She struck at me, raking my naked stomach with her thorns. I barely felt it. My hand tightened. “One last chance.”

**

Closing my eyes, I felt the tug of Crier. Lifting the hem of the petal dress to keep the fragile fabric from ripping, I walked through the woods, forcing the path before me.

The sword would learn who was master. And then so many others would as well.

I laughed.

**

The land twisted and bent around me. The shapeless, ever changing nature of the outer steading, shaped only lightly by the human slaves who were kept near the heart of the land, fought me. The path turned, changed, twisted. With new eyes, I watched time flowing, splitting apart, recoiling, circling into itself only to shatter apart into raindrops pooling once again into something new, bringing the past, present, future, what was, what could be, and what is into the now.

If I had been normal, if it had been that morning again, I'd have been lost. Wandering in circles. Now I saw it clearly. There was one constant for me. Crier of Souls. It was part of me now, until it was taken from my hand. It pulled me, gave me a place to go. I followed like a dog on a leash.

When the path twisted, I broke through the rain of glass angels, each one screaming in fear. Breaking a new trail, cutting through trees of flesh that grasped my skin, moaning of the pleasures to be had if I simply sat beneath their boughs for a time. Children of sunlight, speaking through rainbows sang to me, their songs of love turning to hate as I crossed their path, changed by the miasma surrounding surrounding me.

A black dog, its eyes level with my own growled in a mist of its own making, red eyes burning like the fires of hell my aunt was so fond of telling me about. Its lips parted, revealing bloodstained teeth, and a throat as black as the depth of space, it panted, drawing the light into the never ending blackness. An owl, black feathers blazing brightly in the dark with souls, shrieked above the dog, watching me with human eyes.

I smiled at them, flashing my own fangs of freezing ice. “You want death?”

They nodded.

“Come with me, and there shall be death.”

The owl, as large as a child, launched itself at me with a lonely, banshee like wail. It shrank as it flew, landing easily on my shoulder. The claws of dirt drew some blood. I nuzzled the cool feathers with my cheek. My fingers wiped the blood from my silken pink dress. The black dog came to my side, licking my hand clean.

We marched on.

**

The sterile hallway, filled with half seen human shapes, ended abruptly. Opening a random door, I was in the beating, heart-like antechamber. My new companions shifted, smelling the future, excited at what was too come.

Knocking on the hard wooden door, I whispered almost lovingly to it. “Paula.”

The door shifted, creaking, protesting. Running my hand down the wood that was older than the trees, I pushed. “Paula. Paula. Paula. Paula. PAULA!”

The door screamed. Cracks erupted from the frame. Splinters tore into my hand. The door opened.

Paula's room lay before me. It was brightly lit, a beautiful couch sat before the largest tv I'd ever seen. The walls were lined with alcohol and candy. There were other doors. Looking around, I knew why she liked her position so much. Grabbing a bottle of booze at random I laid down on the couch, taking a drink. It burned on the way down.

My two companions made themselves comfortable.

We were there for a few minutes before Paula walked in. She was saying something to a few people, laughing happily. I had the pleasure of watching the smile on her face freeze, the laugh dying in her throat as she saw me. Confusion reigned, she didn't know if I was a fae, a human, or something else. I couldn't blame her for that, I didn't know what I was either.

I rolled to my feet, taking another sip from the bottle. My golden hair swirled around me. Cracking my amber hand, my flaming hooves scorched the carpet. The owl swooped to the top of the door, eyeing Paula as if she was a tasty mouse. The black dog growled, stepping out from behind the couch.

“Who are you?” she demanded, trying to stare me down. I was impressed that she only trembled a little in fear.

“So many names to choose from. Whichever one shall I choose?” I leered at her, enjoying the fear.

“I-I am protected by the Lady. If you attack me, it shall be as if you attacked her. There shall be repercussions.”

“I've survived worse,” I said, chuckling. “Please get your thugs. You're going to need them.” Omar and his two goons, who'd so recently beaten me almost to death stepped inside. “Omar, it's so good to see you again. Let's see, in the first dance, I kicked your ass and let you walk away with your life. Then you nearly beat me to death. Let's go with best out of three, shall we? Instant death round.”

I threw myself past Paula, pushing the bottle into her arms, aiming for Omars' throat. They were expecting it, but not that fast. Paula was too distracted by the bottle to do more than push me a little, throwing me off balance. Omar for his part, grabbed big foot using him as a human shield. They were fast and it saved their lives for a few seconds.

My hard fist should have hit Omar's sternum, killing him, instead I hit big foot square in the stomach. The hairy man bent double over my fist, vomiting all over the floor. It missed me completely as I spun around them, breaking the fat man's knee with a kick. Screams filled the room. My cheering squad shrieked in pleasure.

Omar jumped away, drawing his tattoo sword. Paula lashed out with a low kick through the falling bodies. I wasn't there anymore, climbing the fat man even as he fell howling in pain. My fists pounded his skull, until he was motionless on the floor.

Rolling backwards to avoid a sword to the head and a fist to the throat, I ended up in the hallway. They tried to slam the door shut, dragging the fat man inside to clear the way. My hooves hit the door, leaving two burning dents in it even as it thumped against the wall. Bodies fell to the floor shaken.

Stepping back into the room, I kicked big foot who was still clutching his stomach, between the legs. He collapsed, blood began to pool around him. Omar tried to take my head off, his colourful sword sparked against my armoured hand. Jumping, my legs encircled his waist as Paula's kicked flew with deadly speed where I'd been.

My sharp, watery nails dug into his back, he screamed. I kissed his neck, the thorns on my lips cutting into his skin, leaving a reddish black liquid on his skin. It seeped into him. He couldn't scream. Paula's fist finally connected with my temple.

I hit the ground, seeing spots.

Paula screamed.

Laughing, I watched her clutch her wrist. Her hand was so cramped it looked as if it was broken. “Paula, you're not the only one with help.”

Her eyes widened in amazement. “Ant!” she said my name like a curse.

“It's Alex now. Remember that you stupid bitch,” I corrected her. “I can't kill you yet. I want to, but you're not worth dying for. Still your men are dead. If you try anything, I'll kill everyone around you.” As if to make my point, the owl, now the size of a car flew down, grasping the fat man in its talons flying through the ceiling. The black dog grabbed Omar, who had fallen to the ground barely breathing, by the head. The two of them disappeared into the growing pool of blood coming from big foot.

Grabbing her by the neck forcing her to bend down a little, my hair stroked her terrified face, with my lips brushing her ear, I laid down the law. “I'm the top bitch now. If you don't believe me, you can throw anything you want at me. But every time you do, I'll take something from you. If you push me too far...” I paused remembering something she had told me before. “I'll make your life a living hell until you beg me to kill you, until you are licking my shoes in the hopes that I'll end your living nightmare.”

I turned and walked away, closing the door on my stunned and beaten enemy.

It was time to deal with Crier now.

**
My head hurt a little, I smiled anyways. Compared to what Paula had to be feeling now this was nothing. And quite frankly seeing her scared before me, I'd have cut off my right hand if I'd had to. A few humans were looking out of their rooms wondering what the noise had been. When they saw me, they ducked back inside.

Sin with her glittering skin smiled at me, not afraid of the bloody tracks I left or my new appearance. “You've given yourself over to the dreams. Congratulations. I knew great things would come to you.”

I smiled clicking my fingers together. “They haven't come yet. But soon, very soon they will.”

“I cannot wait to see what you accomplish again, Sorrow.”

Sorrow? I rolled it around my head, whispering it to myself. It sounded good, it was appropriate. “Thank you Sin. I like that name. I'm busy now. Goodbye.”

Rolling my hips as I walked, getting more comfortable with my new body, I went on my way. The face on my door had changed to match my new look turning to amber rather than the old bronze. The woman who looked at me was grinning like a cartoon devil. She looked to be in her twenties, all traces of weakness had been burned from her face. It was appropriate.

Stepping inside, my eyes scanned the room for threats. It was empty except for Crier who laid where I had thrown him. Closing the door, I crouched down. “Crier of Souls, I'm back. We need to talk.”

The tall man rose from the sword. “So you are back with yet another new body. Are you a true fighter now or a scared child seeking help from others?”

My brain wasn't like before, new ideas and concepts were racing through it. I wasn't sixteen years old anymore. “I am me. I am no longer your student. No longer weak and innocent. I don't believe you understand this.”

He raised a well manicured eyebrow in question.

“You were given to me, not won in combat. Since then you have been less than loyal. Giving me hints rather than answers, treating me like a student, even after I proved my worth.” He was still taller than I was, but only by a head. With the feelings rushing through me I didn't care about that little difference. I'd seen him fight, I'd listened to him talking, I'd watched everything about him for weeks. I knew his measure.

“I have treated you as you deserve to be treated. What more do you expect of me?”

Stepping back, putting one leg forward, I raised my hands prepared to fight. “I expect you to be my servant. To do that I need to win you fairly. Prepare yourself.”

“I've told you that I cannot fight a battle for you,” he said looking confused.

I punched him in the chest. It was more of a love tap compared to what I was capable of. Crier stared at me in amazement. Rage twisted his pale, tear stained face. “You hit me!” I heard the clashing of swords in his voice.

“There is only one owner of Crier I can fight, since I am not yet your rightful master. You can yield to me, or fight. Either choice will have the same result.” In a move too fast to see I slapped his face.

Crier the sword appeared in his hand. “You disrespectful little worm. I kept you alive and this is how you repay me.”

I shook my head, never taking my eyes off the ebony blade. “There's no disrespect. You respect strength, I had none so our relationship was uncertain. Now we see who is stronger. Who will be the servant and who will be the master.”

Twisting to the side, I narrowly avoided being decapitated. My own kick at his long leg was easily side stepped. We circled each other, flowing around the bits of furniture, barely even blinking. Metal shrieked against stone as the blade chipped my amber forearm. I threw a hard punch just under his arm.

My head rocked back, blood flowed from my mouth from a hard fist to my jaw. I retaliated stomping his foot. Backing away again, I resisted the urge to shake my head. He was limping a little, but barely slowed. This was fun, a real challenge.

We charged each other.

The air was filled with the sound of breaking furniture, bone hitting flesh, and metal striking rock. I'd never moved so fast, with so much certainty. The second sight was almost distracting. I could see what Crier was going to do, what he was thinking of doing and what he would do if I didn't do something else. My cheek opened up with a long gash, when I saw him kicking my leg, but in reality he was slashing with his sword. Even as the blood ran down my jaw, I kicked him in the shoulder seeing where he was going to be a second before he even moved.

Bruises covered his body, his left arm hung limp. I was cut, bleeding badly and my amber covered hand was cracked, chipped so badly I could see my ghostly white skin beneath the clear golden rock. The room was torn to shreds. The bedpost had fallen, one to a sword, the other to a kick. I'd thrown Crier into the wardrobe. My dresses bloody and ragged, lay strewn on the floor from his desperate struggle to free himself before I could get on top of him.

Crier started talking. “Do you remember sniveling in fear, ready to beg Paula for your life, Ant?”

The room shifted, we were in the round entertainment room, tables were on the walls and even the ceiling. Me, the old me, was pushed up against a table, bloody, crying, with Paula's hand around my neck, trying to choke out an oath to her. Swearing myself to her service. My throat ached in memory.

The black blade struck at my chest. I twisted out of the way, not quite fast enough. I screamed. The cold blade pushed through my flesh, scraping against my collarbone. Crier loomed over me, dragging the sword to the side. My chest and arm were numb, freezing as the muscle was split and torn. With my hand of amber, I grabbed the blade, holding it in place. Another scream as we struggled for control of the blade. My hand began to bleed.

My naked hand grasped Criers wrist. My nails, as sharp as daggers, dug into the flesh and veins. It was his turn to scream, blood ran down my fingers. We snarled at each other unable to move, unwilling to yield. He sawed into my body, I sliced his. Darkness filled my vision.

Letting go of the blade, I leaned in, the blade coming out my back. With my nearly shattered amber hand I grabbed Crier by the neck. Pain spread across his face for a second as I crushed his throat.

I was holding Crier by the hilt, panting with exhaustion. The blood stained blade was quiet in my hand. Falling backwards onto my bed, I heard the sword laughing. I knew it didn't laugh at my weakness, it was a laugh of joy and pleasure, knowing it had a master worthy of holding it.

Bleeding into the sheets, I joined it. I was wounded, but it had been a joyous battle. The first of many more. There would be no more weakness in me, it had been beaten out. No more hesitations, no more qualms, no more mercy.

I could see the future, and there was only glory before me.