I kept my eyes forward, not wishing to show any emotion. I'd already thrown a really big fit earlier. That was in private, though. Well, mom was there too, but she didn't count. She was always there to hear my fits, mostly since she was always the subject of them. It seemed to me like she was the only one to blame. It just made sense to me. Anyway, since the fit was over with now, I stayed quiet, solemn, and emotionless. I didn't want people to see how weak I was inside. If I look strong on the outside, people will leave me alone.

There weren't a lot of people on the streets, but they kept to themselves. Every once in a while, one of them might throw a glance in my way, but that was all the acknowledgement that graced me. I looked at each from the corner of my eye. None of them were dressed alike. Most wore clothes that you don't usually see in America, much less this part of Colorado. Sure, you see some pretty crazy things around here, but this was different. Very different.

"Hurry up, Garie." Mom called back as she walked farther ahead of me. "I want to speak with your uncle quickly. I have lessons to teach tonight."

I rolled my eyes. Mom didn't care about getting anywhere on time. The world could wait for her as far as she was concerned. She just didn't like the way some of the other people were looking at her. I couldn't blame them, though. With three-inch Stiletto heels and tons of makeup, my mom made these people look almost normal. In some ways, my mom was beautiful, but she tried just a little too hard. She needed to chill every once in a while.

I shifted my duffel bag comfortably over my shoulder while my other hand held my ukulele. People always gave me weird looks when I carried it around, but I needed it with me. I ran to catch up to her.

"Do you really think it's going to be okay with him?" I asked, breaking my vow of silence.

"It better be," she responded flatly, not even looking at me. "He owes me."

I looked around the strange streets. I hadn't been in this village for a long time. It seemed weird to come back. It was like walking around an almost forgotten memory, or a half-finished dream. It was surreal.

"You know, there are other forms of punishment." I said, casually eying a random totem pole on the side of the road. "Some that don't involve cancelling my summer plans in order to stay with an uncle that I haven't seen since I was six. Why didn't you just take away my laptop?"

"Believe me, Garie," Mom replied, looking at a map not too far from where we stood. "This will do you some good. I need you to actually realize that what you did was wrong and that I will no longer accept that sort of behavior from you. Once you've learned your lesson, you can come home."

I crossed my arms. "Like I even want to come home." I muttered, not caring if Mom heard me or not. If she had, she didn't show it. She turned away from the map and was once again on her way. Even in heels, she was fast. I had to sprint just to keep up.

Finally, she stopped in front of a restaurant with the word "Patch" written across the top. It looked kind of old-fashioned from the outside. There was a menu taped on the outside of the window. Looking in, I could see a bunch of wooden tables and chairs. Not a lot of them were occupied from what I could see. In the back, there was a large counter, complete with wooden stools.

"Here we are." Mom sighed, reaching for the glass door.

As Mom and I stepped into the building, we were greeted by a much needed blast of cool air. I took a deep breath. Thank god for AC.

I took in the room. There were only a few tables occupied. A long one was filled with people who all seemed to be from Asia, although one of them could've been African, judging by his clothing, and another looked more European than anything else. They were the largest group in the restaurant. The rest were mostly groups of one or two scattered around the room.

"Don't make eye-contact." Mom said through clenched teeth and a tight smile.

I rolled my eyes as I sauntered after her. We wove our way through the tables, then came to the counter at the end of the room. Behind the counter, a man stood with his back to us, humming to himself. I studied him, or what I could see of him, at least. He had long black hair that had a feather stuck on a red head band that just barely showed. He seemed to have rippling muscles, which I thought was kind of hot.

Mom cleared her throat loudly.

When the man turned around, he was smiling warmly. That was only momentarily, though, because when he saw Mom, his smile was replaced by a very shocked expression. In fact, he was so shocked that he almost dropped the glass he was drying.

"Leigha!" He exclaimed.

Mom's tight smile didn't falter. "Hello Silva."

"What are you doing here?" Silva asked urgently. I could tell he wasn't very happy to see her.

"I've come because of that favor you owe me." Mom replied, looking at Silva straight in the eye. "I know how you can repay it now."

Silva sighed. "Leigha, I'm way too busy to think about something like that. As one of the officials of the Shaman Fight, I need to put my full attention into the fight, not on whatever silly thing you want me to do."

"The favor I'm asking you isn't as silly as you may think, Silva." Mom said evenly. "And I'm sure it won't distract you from your," she paused and looked distastefully around the restaurant. "duties, I guess."

Silva sighed with annoyance. "Fine, what is it?"

Mom's eyes flickered with a small hint of amusement. She nodded towards me. "Do you remember my second daughter Garie?"

Silva looked at me for the first time, and I could see the annoyance practically melt off his face. "Garie? Garie June?" His eyes were wide with surprised pleasure. "I haven't seen you in years! Look at how you've grown!"

In spite of myself, I smiled. "You look nothing like I remember."

Silva laughed, but Mom interrupted. "Good, I'm glad you remember each other, because I'm leaving her here under your care."

Silva was once again shocked into silence. Finally, he blinked a couple of times and took a deep breath. "WHAT?" He boomed, so loud that I swear I could feel the ground under me shake. Around the room, all had gone silent. I turned to see every single head aimed in our direction. After an awkward silence, and a few more weird looks, everyone went back to their conversations.

Even so, I could feel my cheeks burning slightly with annoyance. I muttered something about feeling tired and, making sure no one had their eyes on me, went to sit in the stool at the very end of the counter, taking out one of the books I'd brought with me. Maybe if I kept my head down long enough, no one would know that I'm related to those two random people arguing at the other end of the counter.

"Say, who's that woman who looks kind of like Silva?" I heard a voice behind me ask. I jumped a little and cursed, then turned to see who had spoken. Behind me, there stood a boy of about my age. He had floppy brown hair, complete with a pair of orange headphones stuck behind his ears. His eyes were a chocolate brown, and he wore a very carefree expression. He was smiling brightly at me. It took me a second to register the question he had asked me.

"That, uh, that's my mom." I said, suddenly feeling kind of self-conscious. I checked to make sure that my shirt was stainless, and ran a hand through my hair to make sure it wasn't getting pouffy. Huh, that's weird. I hardly ever care about that.

The boy's smile widened. "Oh really? Are you related to Silva?"

I nodded. "He's my uncle, but I hardly ever talk to him."

"No way! I didn't even know Silva had a sister." He said, sitting on the stool next to mine. "How old are you?"

"Fourteen." I answered, wondering how that was important. Ah, who cared, this kid seemed pretty nice.

"Awesome." He replied. "So am I." His expression changed from happiness to curiosity, and I realized he was looking at my ukulele. "Do you like music?"

I blinked in surprise. He sure knew how to change subjects. He also knew how to ask some pretty obvious questions. "Well, duh! I love music."

"What kind?" The boy asked, smiling at my answer.

"Oh jeez," I laughed a little. "I like rock, blues, soul, indie, classical. . ."

"Classical?" The boy cut me off, as if listening to classical music were the weirdest thing ever.

"Well, yeah, it's relaxing." I replied. "Actually, both my parents are classical musicians, so I kind of grew up with it. I don't usually listen to it, but there are a few that I listen to after I train."

"Your parents are musicians? That's so cool!" They boy said, his eyes wide with excitement. He leaned back on the counter, getting into a comfortable position. I noticed that throughout our whole conversation, his eyes had hardly left my face. "I usually listen to hard rock or something close for training. Anything with a fun beat, really."

"Yeah, me too." I agreed. It was amazing. This guy actually knew what he was talking about. "Do you have a favorite artist?"

The boy (whom I shall now call Headphones, since I didn't know his name), thought for a second. "Nah, I love too many to choose."

"If I gave you some names, would you tell me if you like them or not?" I suggested.

Headphones nodded. "Totally!"

I thought for a second. "Hm. . . How about. . . The Beatles?"

Headphones laughed. "Who couldn't love the Beatles? Honestly!"

I laughed with him. "I can think of a few people, but I guess that was a given. How about. . . Elvis?"

He nodded. "Yeah, he's got some respectable songs. It's my turn now."

"Go ahead." I said, getting ready.

"The White Stripes?"

I stuck my tongue out. "Ugh, I can't stand them."

"They have some good songs!" Headphones said defensively.

"Not for my taste." I said.

Headphones thought again. "Okay, what about. . . The Beach Boys?"

My eyes narrowed. "Do you actually listen to the Beach Boys?" Wow, he didn't seem like the type to go that far back into old time rock and roll.

"Just answer the question." He scolded me playfully.

"Fine," I said with a laugh. "Yes, I like the Beach Boys. They're fun."

Headphones nodded, and I could see that he was trying not to laugh. "Okay, what about. . ."

"Yoh!" someone from the crowded table called. "Come on, man!"

Headphones, whose name was evidently Yoh, (yup, definitely not American), turned apologetically to me. "Oops, looks like I got sidetracked again." He stood up. "Anyway it was nice meeting you, uh. . ." he paused. I seriously got to introduce myself before I go off on random conversations with people.

"Oh, right." I said, laughing at myself for not telling him my name. "I'm. . ."

"Garie!" My mom suddenly called sharply from where she still stood with Silva. "Get over here."

I sighed. "That."

"Garie." Yoh repeated, smiling. "That's a cool name. Well, see you around, Garie." I watched him as he rejoined his group of friends and they walked together out of the restaurant.

I took a deep breath, realizing that my cheeks weren't at their normal temperature. I stood and walked back to where Silva and Mom stood.

"Who were you talking to?" Mom asked curiously.

Silva smiled at me. "That was Yoh Asakura. He's one of the participants of the Shaman Fight."

Mom looked back at the glass door, as if expecting to see Yoh standing there. "He looked a little young to be fighting."

"Believe me, he's not the youngest." Silva replied. "I think the youngest shaman in the tournament is about five years old."

I blinked at him. "How the heck does a five-year-old fight?"

"You'd be surprised at the strength of some of the shamans around here." Silva said.

Mom didn't look happy. "That's sickening, making children fight."

"We're not making them!" Silva argued. "Whether or not they choose to fight is the shaman's own choice."

They were back at bickering, and I was right in the middle of it again. "Okay," I said holding my hands up. "I think we all get it. Now shut it!" They stopped, much to my joy and surprise. "Now, can you please tell me what the plan is?"

Mom smiled triumphantly. "Your uncle has agreed to take you in for a while, but on one condition."

I turned to face my uncle. "What condition?"

Silva's face had gone a little grim. "You can stay here, as a favor to my older sister, but you have to work for me."

"Work for you?" I asked. "That's it?"

Silva laughed, but the sound was almost heartless, and kind of scary. "Believe me, it's not going to be easy. If you're going to stay with me, you have to earn it."

Well, hell! The punishment was that I was supposed to stay with my uncle for a month and learn about Native American culture, instead of going home to Mexico, or hanging out with my friends. For someone like me, that's practically torture. Now I had to work for him? What the hell!

"Good." Mom broke into my evil thoughts. "Glad we've got that settled. I have to go."

I looked at her, realizing how much I really did want to go home now. I knew she was serious about this, though. When it comes to punishment, she usually finds something that will really teach me. No grounding me from my computer or taking away my cell phone. Oh no. If I do something wrong, she wants me to suffer for it.

Mom turned to me. I'm taller than her, even when she was in heels, so she had to raise herself to kiss my cheek. "I'll see you in a month." She said, shouldering her purse. "Be good to your uncle, and do what he says. And at least try not to get into trouble while you're here."
I sighed. "Whatever."

Mom pulled back from me, looking slightly hurt, but I tried not to think about it. With one final look at Silva, Mom turned on her heel and walked out the door, leaving me feeling more lost than I've ever felt in my life.

I didn't realize how long I'd been staring at the door until I heard Silva sigh behind me. "She certainly hasn't changed at all, that Leigha."

I looked back at him. I noticed that he was wearing a white apron, and one of his hands had rings on every finger. The rings were shaped like five different animals, a snake, a cow, an eagle, a coyote, and a turtle. I tried to see a relation between the animals. I didn't find any.

Silva looked back at me. "Your mom sure knows how to come to me at the worst of times."

I shrugged, sitting in the stood in front of him. "It was partly my fault. I'm the one who got in trouble."

Silva eyed me suspiciously. "What exactly did you do that make her want to kick you out?"

I leaned my head on my hand, staring off into space. "I got in a fight at school, so I got suspended for the last week of school."

Silva went back to organizing some stuff behind the counter. "And how is that bad enough to kick you out?"

"Only that it's my third suspension this semester." I replied. "I guess Mom's just sick of me getting into trouble at school."

Silva nodded. "Now I see why she brought you here." He said, turning to face me. "She wants me to knock some sense into you."

I raised my head. "She wants you to try. That doesn't mean it's going to work."

"I don't know, I'm pretty good at knocking things into people." Silva smiled at me, and I smiled back at him. Even if he was punishing me and all, my uncle wasn't half bad. He looked around the restaurant. "Well, there isn't much left for you to do here. Why don't you go look around the village for a while? I'll meet you back at my apartment in an hour. Deal?"

I nodded. "Deal," I got up and went to were I'd dumped my duffel bag and my ukulele earlier. "What do you want me to do with my bag?"

"Leave it here." Silva replied. "I'll take it back up to my place."

I looked at him. Why was he being so nice? What happened to me being punished? I didn't argue with him though. Instead, I picked up my ukulele, strapping it over my shoulder.

"See ya, Silva." I called, heading towards the door.

"Bye." He called back. "Oh, and try not to get anyone mad. I'd hate to have to save you from getting your butt kicked."

I looked back at him. "Get my butt kicked? Yeah, right," Then I stepped out into the hot summer afternoon. I looked around, wondering where to go first. I decided to just walk in any general direction. The streets were vaguely familiar to me, since I'd been here before, but I still had to remind myself where everything was. I was in the place that they called "The Athlete's Village." It was basically where all the restaurants, shops, and fitness centers were placed. Beyond here were the apartments and inns where the contestants of the Shaman Fight and their families lived for the time being. How did I know all this? My mom was a full-blooded Patch woman. She knew all there is to be known about this village, past, present, and possibly future.

So yes, I had some idea of what the Shaman Fight was. It's a tournament that comes once every five hundred years. The winner of the fight becomes the Shaman King, who is basically the ruler of the universe, or what most people know as God.

I had wanted to enter the fight, since, well, who doesn't want to rule the world? Wouldn't that just be the most awesome thing ever? I wasn't allowed to, of course, by both my house rules and the Patch laws. The house rules, with both my mom and my dad, state that I can't do anything that would either kill me, or make me miss school. I've broken that rule before, though. The one that I can't break are the Patch laws, which state that no person with any blood relation with the Patch (basically if you are, or are related to, someone in the Patch, marriage included), may enter the Shaman Fight.

Mom says that's because of some idiot five hundred years ago in the last Shaman Fight who wanted to become the Shaman King, even though he was one of the officials in charge of the fight. I can't remember what happened to him. He was probably killed by an angry mob or something. Hey, it makes sense in my mind.

As I walked, the air next to me shimmered, but not because of the heat. Suddenly, a small woman in Greek robes appeared floating next to me. She was holding a Greek instrument called a lyre. I guess you have to be someone like me to understand that this woman was a spirit. You'll come to realize that I'm a very peculiar person. You'll see.

"What a beautiful place!" The spirit said in a sweet, childish voice that made the air around her dance playfully.

"Hm, I wouldn't exactly call it beautiful, Erato." I said, putting on my shades and brushing my hair away from my face. "I guess it's pretty. I don't know."

Erato looked at me, her happiness replaced by sympathy. "Are you still mad at your mother, Miss Garie?"

I shrugged, staring forward. "Nah, I know I'm supposed to hate her and stuff for dumping me in a village in the middle of nowhere, but why should I even care? At least it keeps me from having to see my dad just yet."

Erato nodded thoughtfully. "You're right, I suppose. You could somehow end up enjoying this, you know."

"Well, I'll have to thank her for abandoning me again, wont I?" I replied, trying to sound less angry than I felt.

"I'm just saying that things can't be as bad as you think." Erato said in a smaller voice. "Some people seem nice."

My mind shot back to the conversation I'd had earlier with that boy in the headphones, Yoh. He had seemed like a good guy, and he shared my interests. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be so bad.

"Who knows?" I finally replied.

"Who knows." Erato agreed.

We kept walking. Well, I walked, she floated. Within a couple of minutes, I was at the top of a hill that looked down on a very large lake. I knew this place very well. It was my favorite place in the whole village. Mom used to bring my sisters and me here to have picnics or just to play. I remembered those days so well. When we were here, Mom would sometimes tell us stories of past Shaman Fights, or the history of the village. I really loved those times. They were the few times in my life when none of us would argue. The only feeling anyone had was love and happiness. Too bad things change so quickly.

Over the course of eight years, not a lot of things had changed. One thing, though, was definitely different. As I raised my eyes from the crystal-like water, I noticed something that I'd never seen before in my entire life. In fact, I had no idea what it was. It looked like a giant, bright, colorless, formless thing. There's really no other way to describe it. As I looked closer, it seemed to be constantly in motion. It started as a thick mass on the ground, and then it moved up higher and higher onto the top of what looked like a cavern-like roof.

That's all I noticed before I passed out.