A/N Wait's been long, I know and I am sorry. Writer's block sucks. But hey, if it's any consolation, this is to date THE longest chapter I've ever written anywhere ever. So I keep outdoing myself just for you guys! So I use some alchemy in the chapter, but only the abstract notion of transmutation. The idea of transmuting dead matter into living matter is based on one of my own ideas (this should probably go under disclaimer, shouldn't it?). I just don't want anyone to be disillusioned about the true nature of alchemy. But there will be a fair part that alchemy plays in this story, so pay attention.

Twenty five reviews. I love you guys. You are so wonderful and you always make me smile :) A huge thank you to YOUR LOVING SISTER (who, yes, is actually my loving sister), Ummari the Cranky (CommonSenseless24, kpfan72491, pearl84, Nubecula, bloodmoon13, jellyb33n, secret spy guy, FunkyFish1991, Me-agaisnt-the-world, AmethystOcean, Arabic Blessing, DramaQueen4eva, Kurumi-chan, captainjackluver14, perpetually indecisive (my sister's new account - we match!), and reader. You guys are ROCKIN!

FYI - Anytime a paragraph uses the names "Sam" and "Phantom", it's from Sam's point of view. Anytime a paragraph uses the names "Tam" and "Danny", it's frm Danny's point of view. There is one exception where Sam and Danny are both mentioned in the same paragraph, but you'll understand. Just wanted to clear up any possible confusion before it starts.

Props to Arabic Blessing. Monty Python is incredible and so are you for getting the quote. Thou art mine hero.
Additional props go to those who spot the very specific reference to one of the songs from Disney's Aladdin.

Disclaimer: If Danny Phantom were mine, I likely would have made this into one of the made-for-TV movies instead of a fanfiction, doncha think?

Chapter Three
Abdaa

Shortly after Danny was pulled from his precarious position, Salma rushed into the room, panting as though she'd run a mile. "Da-Phantom," she rasped, covering up her mistake as a grunt. "Is th-there enough water for m-me?" The girl was gulping air as fast as she could, bent over and clutching her knees.

"Sure, Salma." Danny turned toward the other girl in the room. "Hey, Tam, could you get some water from the jug by your feet? I'm still a little shaken from that brush with death," he accented with a well-placed puppy dog face, knowing that no one could resist its charm, especially when doubled with guilt.

Sam raised an eyebrow, seeing through Phantom's little act. "I would," she began in a sickeningly sweet voice, "but my arms are too tired to move after lifting you back through the window." She moved her left arm and winced convincingly, turning a pained face in Phantom's direction. "Could you please get it?"

Danny was concerned; surely he couldn't have hurt Tam that much, could he? Then again, he knew he was probably a good twenty or thirty pounds heavier than she was. Add that to him dangling out a window as deadweight..."Yeah, Tam, that's fine," he said, feeling guilty that he had tried to trick her when she was the one in pain. "Do you want any?" he asked as he walked around the girl to the jar of water by her feet. "We have more than enough."

"That would be great, Phantom." Sam's face showed gratefulness, but she was laughing on the inside. After all, she'd only met Phantom a few hours ago and yet he was already believing her terrible acting job. The boy was clueless, no doubt about that.

Sam smiled as Phantom bent down to give Salma a small jar of water, which the girl gulped from greedily until it was drained dry. He walked back over and handed another small jar to Sam, to which she thanked him. Salma was still catching her breath, but her panting was now much softer. She stayed like that for a few moments longer before glancing around the room, her eyes landing on Phantom. "Phantom?" she asked, her brows knitted in slight confusion. "Why is Tam in your room?"

Danny froze. Somehow he knew this would come up. He'd hoped against it, but, of course, he just knew it. "I mean, she's not here to get anything to drink," Salma continued, not noticing his discomfort.

Sam turned incredulous eyes to Phantom. His room? But he just said that I...Her eyes widened. I'm going to kill him, she decided, her incredulous stare becoming something akin to a death glare. I'm going to kill him and then I'm going to laugh.

"Ehehe," Danny chuckled nervously, his hands outstretched in a please-don't-kill-me position as he took a step back. "I'm not going to be staying in here with you or anything, Tam. I just thought it would be gentlemanly to offer you one of the more comfortable rooms." By now, he was back to that nervous gesture of his with a hand at the back of his neck. "I'll be in the next room."

Slowly, Sam unclenched her fists, her expression not completely neutral. "You're staying in the next room?" she asked suspiciously. "Why not just have me stay there while you get your own room?"

A hand found its way to Danny's face, slowly dragging itself down with the help of gravity. "I told you, Tam," he said, allowing his hand to hover momentarily above his mouth and chin before it dropped limply back to his side. "I was trying to be nice. I'm no pervert, I'll tell you that. Just ask Jazz. I don't have the time or energy to try anything," he joked, cracking a smile that looked pained enough to almost be a wince.

Sam closed her eyes briefly, relaxing her face and removing all traces of anger as best she could. "I believe you, Phantom. This time," she added with a mock glare.

Funny. Neither of them noticed that Salma had left halfway through the conversation.

- - - - - - -

"Why do you do it?"

Danny shot a rather confused look at Tam. He was getting ready to depart for the marketplace, satchel in hand. With one more mouth to feed, it was slightly more difficult to get all of the provisions he needed, but not so much trouble that he would turn Tam out onto the streets. "Do what?"

"This."

"Well that clears it up quite nicely, doesn't it?"

"Shut up." Sam still wasn't used to Phantom's sarcasm; usually everyone at the palace was very straightforward and had nearly nonexistent senses of humor. She had to admit, it was a nice change of pace. "You know what I'm talking about."

"Would I be asking if I knew?"

"...yes."

"Oh, come on, either tell me what you're talking about or don't ask."

"Fine."

A minute passed without a word from either party. Tam was just sitting in the wine room by the "window", calmly staring at Danny. Danny's curiosity finally got to him. "Just tell me what you're talking about."

Sam hesitated. She wasn't completely sure how he was going to react to her question. Phantom certainly didn't appear to be violent, especially not with the care and love he showed to all of the children here, but she was still virtually a stranger to him. She'd only been here for two days and knew little more about him than she did the first day. "Stealing," she finally blurted. "Why do you steal from other people? I mean, don't you think that's wrong?"

Danny raised an eyebrow. "Why do you think its wrong?" he asked with a slight frown, but amusement was apparent in his eyes.

"Well," she started, "by stealing, you take something that rightfully belongs to someone else. Food, money, clothing, jewelry. Thieves will, in general, steal for profit. Don't get me wrong, Phantom, you're a really nice guy and everything, but I just don't see why you have to steal. Why not get a job or something?"

Danny was silent for few moments before he answered her. "Let me ask you something, Tam." He sank down to the floor next to her and stared at the opposite wall. "Why do you think someone would have to steal?"

"Um." Sam wasn't completely sure. "I know some people do it for attention, but not you. You steal because you need the food."

"Exactly." He sighed and hunched forward, hugging his knees. "I never steal jewelry or money or anything; I'm morally against that because that's not something that I need. I only steal what I need. I mean, you've gotta eat to live, right?" He turned to Tam and saw her vacantly nodding. "And I always make sure that I don't take stuff from people who can't compensate the loss. I'd never steal from an old man who can't work or from small children. It's like what I said before: I'm morally against that, it's not right. The merchants I frequent live closer to the palace with a lot more money than the people who live in this area. Have you seen their prices? They're the real thieves here," he finished with a small grin.

Sam couldn't help but chuckle slightly. Nothing like one of Phantom's lame jokes to lift her spirits. "First of all, merchants raise prices when their products 'mysteriously vanish', so you may have had some hand in the outlandish prices." She turned to see Phantom with a slight frown on his face as he counted something on his fingers.

"You know," he said with a weird look in his eye, "you might be right. Most of times I've stolen something, the price will have risen within the next week. Huh. Never thought about that."

"Second of all," she continued, "that still doesn't explain why you don't get a job. I mean, you'd at least be able to cut down on how much you have to steal, right?"

"Unfortunately, it's not so simple as that," Danny replied with a sideways glance at Tam. "Think about it: I'd be working all day, most likely doing manual labor or something equally painful. I wouldn't earn any money until the end of the week and, by then, I'd be too exhausted to actually steal anything. That, and I wouldn't be paid enough to get more than five apples weekly."

"Hmm, I see your dilemma."

"Oh, no dilemma," Danny grinned half-heartedly. "I made my mind up about that long ago. Besides, all of the children here are orphans." He turned to Tam. "I've told you that, right?"

"No," she rolled her eyes, "but I'd guessed by now."

"Oh. Well, anyway, all of the kids here are orphans, so they don't have anyone else to provide for them. That means I need every slab of meat, every drop of wine, every piece of fruit that I can get my hands on. Twelve kids, a sister, and a guest are a lot to have to provide for, especially if I plan on eating, too." Danny glanced out the window, seeing that the sun had already risen high enough that there was sky between it and the mountains. "Sorry, Tam, but duty calls." With a half-assed salute, he left.

I guess I never really thought about why someone would steal, she thought to herself, still staring at that wall as though it was the most interesting thing she'd seen in a long time. I've just been raised to know that thieves are bad, that they only think about themselves. She allowed herself a small smile. But not Phantom.

- - - - - - -

"JAAAAAAAZZ!" One of the girls, an eight year old named Basma, cried out. She stumbled over from the rest of the children and past Sam to the red haired girl, clutching her finger in apparent pain.

"Basma, what happened?" Jazz asked, soothingly patting the girl's hair.

"Well," Basma began through tear-filled eyes, "I was - I was playing with Alvan an' Chason. They said that girls weren't smart or strong as boys. So I - I told them that girls are too strong an' smart. Alvan told me that I had to prove it and wrestle." By now, to Sam's chagrin (she had never been particularly good with children), Basma's face was streaked with tears. "I said okay so I wrestled with Chason. But then I - I fell down. An' he stepped on my fiiiingerrrrrrr!" The poor girl was bawling her eyes out at this point, looking so sad that Sam might have been tempted to go comfort her if Jazz was not already dealing with it immediately.

"Oh, Basma," she sighed, tucking a strand of the girl's coal black hair behind her ear. "Why would you even want to wrestle with Chason?"

Basma hastily wiped her tears away with her arm before donning a rather angry looking face. "I wanted to show them that girls are strong, too!" she declared with righteousness in her tone. "I been practicin' my wrestling with Salma an' I won every time so I though I could beat him. I just wanted to make them stop being mean to us girls."

Jazz shook her head, her expression still slightly scolding. "Salma is two years younger than you. Of course you're going to win against her. Not that I understand why you've been wrestling with her or at all, for that matter." She turned reprimanding eyes on the girl before her before sighing. "Chason and Alvan are both three years older than you. You should not have tried to fight either one of them."

"I know," Basma sniffed.

"However," Jazz continued, her eyes showing pride, "you did show them that you were brave. Fighting an older by who is stronger than you takes a lot of courage, especially since you didn't know if you would win or lose. Chason, on the other hand, only showed that he would fight little girls to make his point."

"So does - does that make me stronger than them?"

"Yes," Jazz smiled. "Yes, it does. Now let's go and get you something for your finger." Now grinning ear to ear, Basma took Jazz's hand as the older girl led them up the stairs of the old building.

Wow, Sam thought. Jazz allowed Basma to stand up for herself as a girl, no questions asked. Well, okay, a few questions, but not the point.

She kicked an imaginary pebble in her path. I don't think Jazz has anything here for when the children get really sick or hurt. Some cool water would be enough for healing Basma's finger, but what does she do when one of them catches cold? Or when someone breaks a bone? There's no decent medical help around here that she or Phantom can afford, she thought bitterly.

An image of the palace instilled itself in her mind. All of the wasted food, the squandered money, the services and comforts that everyone took for granted. Anger was not a strong enough word to describe what Sam was feeling right then; rage, perhaps, would fit her mood better. These children lived in a place where glass was embedded in the floors while the wealthy few basked in their sheer good luck at being born into the nobility or royalty. It wasn't fair!

It's not fair! These children live better than many orphans and still they are underfed in bad living conditions where they can only look forward to growing up to be thieves or prostitutes! Why are there so few members in the privileged class while the rest of the country lives in filth and disrepair? It doesn't make sense!

I'm a princess, right? Maybe I can do something about this when I go back...if I go back. Nausea wormed its way into Sam's stomach as she thought of how much worse the country would be if it fell into the hands of the grand vizier. These children might not even be alive. If I know Vlad, and I do, he'd make poverty a mental illness and have them all killed.

I'm not going to let that happen. I can't. Sam realized that she couldn't stay away from her home and position forever; she still had a duty to her people. When she was queen, she would make sure that no one had to live like this again, that all of the orphaned children were well taken care of, and that all of the citizens of the country were fed. And, of course, that women did not have to prove that they were as good as men. But I don't have to go back yet; after all, I won't be queen for a long time.

- - - - - - -

"Phantom?"

Danny sat up too fast, forgetting that a rather large, thick plank of wood was directly above him and hit his head in his haste. "Zarba," he cursed under his breath before turning to look at the source of his pain. Black hair, pale skin. Violet eyes. Can only be one person, he thought as he rubbed his head. "Hey, Tam."

"You okay there, Phantom?" Tam's worry was reflected in her eyes. But it wasn't as though he'd hit his head after falling five stories, right? He'd had to deal with that last year and it was no walk in the park. But Tam seemed genuinely worried over such a small wound. Why?

"Yeah, I'm fine," he responded after a few seconds of silence had already passed. "Why? It's not that bad, just a bump."

Tam simply gave him a leveled glance before moving her milk white hand to the crown of his head, gently touching her fingers to the bump. Red stained her hands as she pulled away. Danny looked up to see that there was a bit of blood on the plank of wood, too.

"Stay right here; don't move," she commanded. Danny raised an eyebrow, but complied.

"Danny?"

He nearly had the same reaction, but he managed to stay still instead, remembering Tam's orders. Red hair peeked out at him from the corner of his eye. "Yeah, Jazz?"

She crouched down beside him, a rather smug smirk adorning her face. "Oh, nothing," she said in the tone that very clearly meant "something". "I was just watching you and Tam, that's all."

Me and Tam? What is she talking about? "What are you talking about? She made me hit my head and went to get some stuff to clean me up. What's so wrong with that?"

Jazz's grin widened perceptibly as she cradled her face in both of her hands. "You haven't seen your so-called 'flesh wound', have you?"

"No, why?"

"It's one of the tiniest little cuts I've ever seen," she said with a hint of victory in her tone. "The length of your little toe. Maybe. The kids get bigger scrapes than this on a good day. Why would Tam be helping to clean you up from this?"

"Um." How am I supposed to know? She just ran off with her stupid "stay here" orders; how the hell should I know what passe through the mind of a girl? "Because she's nice?"

"Uh huh." Danny shifted uncomfortably; was Jazz trying to say...did Tam...like him? "If you think that's the only reason, go ask her when she gets back. I'm sure she'll have no problem answering."

Okay, that was exactly was Jazz was hinting at. "Yes, Jazz, because I actually want to die. Of course." Her aqua eyes were laughing at him as though she knew something he didn't. What else is she thinking about? She can't possibly think...

"So then you agree that she likes you?"

"Yes...no...uh...argh, Jazz, I have no idea! What makes you think that I, The Clueless One, would be able to read Tam's mind?"

"But you like her, right?"

"Yeah, I mean...wait, what?" What had Jazz just gotten him to say?

That triumphant gleam was back in her eyes. "Knew it! I knew it!" Jazz did the best happy dance she could while still sitting on the ground, ignoring her brother's cries of protest, until she settled back down with a more serious look on her face. "Look, Danny, I don't know what why you won't actually tell her your real name (unless you're insecure about her feelings toward you enough that you believe that any lies shown on your part will ruin your developing relationship), but that would be one way to show her that you really trust her, that you like her, too."

"Jazz," Danny interrupted in a stern voice reminiscent of...someone very dear to them. "Shut up."

Rolling her eyes, Jazz continued as though her petulant brother had never spoken. "At least let her know that she's welcome to stay for as long as she wants."

Danny's eyes softened at Jazz's proclamation. I haven't exactly said that, have I? Just said she could stay for a bit..."Okay, I'll do that."

"Do what?" a now-familiar voice asked from Jazz's left. Tilting his head slightly downward, Danny saw Tam's silhouette in the sunlight. She is pretty. Very pretty. Maybe Jazz is right, maybe...Danny shook his head to clear his thoughts. Maybe what? Maybe she likes a thief without anything to offer her? Yeah, that's likely. He purposefully ignored the nagging voice in his head that suggested maybe he liked her, too.

"Uh, nothing. Nothing," he said as he pushed his sister away with the last word. "She just wanted me to, um...get some milk?"

"Get some milk?" Tam kneeled down beside him, her face betraying her confusion. "What do you need milk for?"

"Um, see, one of the kids, S-Salma, hasn't been feeling too well. So, uh, we thought we'd, I mean I'd, get her some, uh, milk." Smooth, Phantom. Smooooth.

"Okay," Tam responded with a lilt to her eyebrow that suggested she didn't believe whatever it was he'd just said. He turned his head to his right a little bit to see her ripping the bottom of her hijab.

"Tam! What are you doing?"

Tam rolled her eyes before submerging the cloth in a small bucket of water. "I told you, dummy, I'm cleaning you up." She must have seen him tense as soon as she touched the cloth to his forehead because she tapped him lightly on the nose, saying, "Sit still. It's pretty nasty, so I need some concentration."

Okay, Danny thought, either she's lying of Jazz is. I bet it's Jazz; she just wanted to back up her idea with some "solid evidence".

But then again, that nagging voice in Danny's head piped up, it doesn't hurt much, does it? Not like a big wound would or should.

So, then what? Danny argued. Tam likes me?

The other voice was silent.

Instead of focusing on his internal conversation, Danny chose to concentrate on the feel of the cloth on his forehead. It was rough, but cool, and he could feel Tam's fingertips as they pressed harder onto his head. He closed his eyes, allowing his head to roll completely to the side, feeling strangely drowsy.

He missed the smile Tam gave him as he slept.

- - - - - - -

"You were right, Phantom," Sam observed as she looked out the large hole in the wall.

"Hmmgf?" was his intelligent response. He'd just managed to steal more food than he had managed to on any one day in the last two months and was currently pigging out on some of the dried beef. After he swallowed he asked, "What about?"

"The view," she replied. The sunset was truly magnificent, the colors playing out against the stark colors of the palace and city, transforming the sky and earth into a dazzling array of blues, purples, pinks, and golds. "It's as incredible as you keep saying it is."

"Yeah," Danny replied, looking half at the sunset and half at Tam. "View's great."

The two friends sat in comfortable silence for a few moments more. Sam was the one who broke the silence. "Hey Phantom? Mind if I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

Sam hesitated, unsure as to how he would handle the possibly touchy subject. "I know it's a noble cause and everything, but why do you and Jazz do this? Why don't you just go and take care of yourselves? Wouldn't that be easier?"

Inwardly, Danny winced. He should've known it'd be a question like that. Silently, he ran a hand through his thick hair, trying to decide on what he should and shouldn't tell. "Um," he began, rubbing the back of his neck, "for you to understand that, I'd need to give you the whole story."

"The whole story?" Now Sam was slightly confused, but damn if that got in the way of her need to know! "Okay, it's not like I don't have the time to listen."

One or two deep, shuddering breaths later, Danny was ready to speak. "My parents were alchemists." He watched as Tam's eyes widened; he'd never mentioned his parents before in front of her and was fairly sure that she wouldn't miss his use of the word "were", either. It certainly wasn't a happy subject for him. "Jack and Maddie. They were great parents and were very much in love, but their work was always first in their lives. They would use so much of their enthusiasm on us, but put even more into their projects. We accepted that." He paused, wrapping his arms around his knees before continuing.

"Their biggest goal was to bring the dead back to live in some form of another. Apparently - and they tried to explain this to me so many times that I've lost count, but I still don't completely understand - everything that the world is made up of, or the elements, can all be turned into one another with the proper technique. This is what they called 'transmutation'." He took another deep breath.

"My parents worked with the idea that, by changing the dead elements of a body to living ones, the dead could be restored. They tried this out on one of their fellow alchemists, who they wounded severely, but he wasn't brought back correctly. He was colder and his heart rate severely slowed, but he was still alive, so the other alchemists took this as a great success. My parents took it for what it was - a message to alchemists.

"They were doing it wrong."

"What do you mean, they were doing it wrong?" Sam ventured to ask. The story so far seemed unbelievable almost - how could something, anything, be changed into anything else at whim? "They brought someone back to life, right? That means that it was a success. Right?"

Danny shook his head, a small smile playing out on his face. "No, the other man was on his way to death, but hadn't reached it yet. He was less than half alive when they tried to heal him and my parents thought, and I agree, that he wasn't completely restored to full life. You see," he continued, seeing the incredulous look on Tam's face and enjoying it quite thoroughly, "my parents decided to perform a few tests on him. About half of his elements appeared dead."

Sam stared. A half-dead man? "That's almost too crazy to believe."

Danny sighed. "Well, if you don't believe me..."

"Hold on there. I said 'almost', so you just keep going."

Danny barked out a laugh, just one, before sobering. "Yes, the man was apparently half-dead, but he was alive enough to walk around. This was a bit pre-Jazz, just so you know, so I never knew the man personally. He severed contact with my family eventually for some reason. I still don't know why. Anyway, after this man's almost-death, my parents decided that they would concentrate mostly on the dead."

"Wait, wait," Sam interrupted. "I thought they already concentrated on the dead. That was the whole point of the experiments and stuff with the dead-ish guy, right?"

"Well, yes," Danny explained. "And no. Their projects had been mostly focuses on the restoration of life. But here, they became entranced with the fate of the dead, specifically those that don't exactly leave."

"That don't exactly leave..." Sam repeated quietly before her eyes widened in understanding. "You mean - "

"Ghosts," Danny finished firmly. "My parents went off on a whole new range of experiments that they aimed toward finding out how ghosts could sustain themselves here. This later evolved into their desire to study all aspects of ghosts, including their battle expertise. So they became ghost hunters, armed with alchemy that could destroy ghosts or send them away where they couldn't bother anyone here anymore. I never quite figured out how they did all of this, but they did. Somehow.

"I remember the first ghost I ever saw," he said, shivering. "I had just wished to have a dog when all of a sudden, this giant green and blue ghost, a dead harem girl perhaps, came up behind me and said that my wish was her command. Next thing I knew, I had a giant green ghost dog chasing me around the house. My parents came in and did some sort of incantation thing and the ghosts vanished. I was five. It was traumatic." He shivered again. "I still like dogs, though."

Okay, but what does this have to do with now? Sam asked herself. He's really getting off topic. "Continue."

"If milady commands it," he grinned. It was soon replaced with a grimace, one that showed pain. "Well, one night after my seventh birthday, a ghost came to our house. He was just a flash of blue to me." By this point, Danny's hands were visibly shaking. "He came and yelled something to my parents, saying that they made him what he was. But my parents never killed anyone!" He banged his fist loudly against the floor, looking enraged that someone could have ever even thought his parents capable of murder.

After Danny calmed down, he said, "The blue ghost shot something pink from his hands. It hit my parents and killed them instantly, taking the house with them. Jazz and I barely made it out of that house alive." He propped his head on his knees, his jaw set in determination. "That's why I help these kids. I know how hard it is to lose your parents, your home, and everything you ever loved. I know what it's like to live for years without any sort of parental love. I know that it can harden people, and I don't want the children to have that kind of life."

Sam was in shock. Phantom's story was unbelievable. She almost asked if that was why he called himself Phantom (she knew it wasn't his real name, of course), but decided against it. So much pain, so much loss...She had never experienced anything like that before and likely never would. And he's not hardened like he said many are, she realized. He's gentle and loving and kind and gentle...wait, did I just say loving? She paused in her mental rant for a moment. Yes, he is loving. He is able to love despite all that the world has thrown at him. He...he deserves so much more than this.

I want to give it to him.

"So," Danny said, succeeding in making Tam jump nearly a mile as she crashed back into reality. "I've told you why I'm here. What about you?"

Peculiarly, Sam found herself blushing and blanching at the same time. After his incredible story, anything she could've said would sound childish and stupid. Besides, how much could she really tell him. "Um, it's not nearly what your story was."

"Who cares? I just like to hear new stories every once in a while."

"Um. Okay." Honestly, she had no idea what she should say. Oh, hello, I'm a princess who lives in the palace with both of parents and all of her servants, living in the lap of luxury. Yeah, right. "Well, mine is a decidedly less noble reason, just so that you know in advance." She paused again, thinking of what parts she should tell. "My parents decided that I would have to marry someone, anyone, in the next month or so. Basically, they were actively trying to make my life miserable. So I...left." She was afraid Phantom would think her stupid for running away from home, especially from something as trivial as that. But that apparently wasn't the part he'd been paying particular attention to.

"You have to marry 'someone, anyone'?" he asked, moving slightly closer to her on the floor. They were only about a foot away from each other at this point. "That's what your parents said?"

"Okay, no, not 'someone, anyone'. More like 'someone, anyone that has some money and status to their name'."

"Ouch." Danny again moved closer to her. "So you basically have to marry any random rich snot that you want. Have fun picking from that lot."

"Oh, I won't be. I ran away, remember?" This time, it was Sam who moved closer. The gap between them was slowly closing, only allowing a few stray lights from the dying sun to pass between them. "I am free to choose whomever I want for a husband here."

"Um, yeah. Right." Those words, for some inexplicable reason, had a strange effect on Danny. For one, he was the only man, or boy, her age around here. For another, she had already chosen to stay with him. Was she trying to say something? Was Jazz right? Or have I just lost my mind?

He is so strong, Sam thought to herself as she gazed at Phantom. I don't know what I would have done if life had put me in his extraordinary circumstances. I'd likely be dead by now. He deserves better. It amazed her, how close they'd become in the span of a week. But she already found herself compelled to lean toward his cheek, lips puckered, trying to give him reassurance that, at least for now, he was not alone.

Hey, I haven't told her what Jazz wanted me to say, Danny remembered. What was that, again? Oh, right, that she can live here. He turned his head, "Hey, Tam, I - "

He was cut off by the unexpected meeting of their lips. Two pairs of eyes remained wide open as they stared at each other for what seemed like hours. Her lips are so soft. Neither really wanted to move away. He tastes like mint. But eventually, they both leaned away, refusing to meet each other's eyes.

I want to feel his lips again.

I want to taste her again.

Unconsciously, these thoughts ran through the minds of both Danny and Sam as they found themselves once more leaning toward each other, eyes gently closing, lips slightly open...

"PHANTOM!"

Danny jumped away from Tam as if she was on fire. Was that...oh, shit. The guards found him. Here. Here, of all places. And now, of all times. "Tam, run!" he shouted as he bolted for the door, Tam following closely behind him.

From behind the doorway, the guard named Makhvala called to her fellow guards. "He can't escape here! Capture him!" Within minutes, Phantom emerged from the room, escorted by two of the other guards. But no one else.

Makhvala wrinkled her nose in consternation. "Wasn't there a girl here?" she asked one of the guards. "I heard a female voice."

"We didn't see anyone, Makhvala," the bigger of the two replied.

Wait...Makhvala...she's a member of the royal guard...I know her. Sam leapt out of her hiding place and into direct view of the guards. "You must not have looked hard enough, hmm?"

"Tam, no!" Danny yelled, twisting and writhing in the guards' grasp. It was one thing for him, a thief, to be arrested, but it was an entirely different matter to have an innocent involved in a potentially dangerous situation such as this. Especially if he liked her...

"Restrain her," Makhvala ordered one of the guards, who went obligingly. Sam struggled under his grasp before yanking down the hijab, revealing the amethyst tiara beneath. Makhvala's eyes widened as she started to sputter before ordering her men to bow.

Bow? Why would they...Danny strained his neck under the guards' grasp to see what had changed in the situation. Tam's hair was now showing, along with a lovely purple tiara. Danny didn't know what it meant, but he knew that Tam wasn't exactly who he'd come to believe she was.

"By order of Princess Samantha of Amity, let Phantom go!"

Danny nearly popped a gut. Well, that would explain.

"I apologize, your highness," the guard, Makhvala, replied, her teeth gritted as though in extreme pain. Or extreme anger. "But this boy has been accused of countless crimes around the area for years. His fate cannot be changed on a whim."

"This is no mere whim, Val." An angry red flush spread out over Sam's pale features, staining like blood. "I am the princess and as such, you must do as I command."

"I follow your father, Samantha, not you." And with that, Danny felt a sharp pain on the side of his head as his world turned black.

- - - - - - -

"Skulker," the blue one hissed, his back turned to the minion. "It is useless to even ask, isn't it?"

Skulker dropped his head, still careful to keep eye contact with his employer. There was no love lost, nor trust gained, between the two. "No, sire, I am displeased to say that I have failed. There is none in the kingdom that matches that particular description; most spirits are malevolent by nature."

"It has been over one week," the cloaked one reminded the hunter. As if he could forget. "I expected to have results by now. You are my best, you realize. After myself, of course."

"Yes," the hunter grated out. It was almost painful to have to listen to these remarks; a hunter, by nature, needs confidence that he will catch his prey. With both an eluding prey and a depreciative employer, is it any small wonder that he was distressed? He himself had expected to catch the whelp four nights ago.

"Hmm. Perhaps I have another job for you."

Skulker's ears pricked. Or they would have, if he'd had them. "Another job?" he asked, more than a little suspicious. "What kind?"

"Oh, you will know in good time." The blue one paused to grin a rather sadistic smile before continuing. "By the way, Skulker, are you free tonight? We have an criminal waiting for his execution and I believe I know just the ghost for the job."

It only took a few seconds, but soon Skulker's grin matched that of his employer's. "My pleasure."

- - - - - - -

Translations:

Abdaa - Arabic for "to reveal"

Basma - Arabic for "a smile"

Alvan - Hebrew for "tall"

Chason - Hebrew for "strong; hardy"

Zarba - Arabic for "shit"

Jack - Hebrew for "God is gracious"

Maddie - short for Madeline, Hebrew for "from Magadala"

Makhvala - Central Asian for "blackberry" (nickname can be "Val")

Skulker - from the English word "to skulk", meaning "to move in a stealthy manner"