A/n: I've never been to Oktoberfest. Sorry if I got it entirely wrong. It just seemed like a good place to start the twins' journeys.

Chapter 4

"Whoa, they're like the most retro contacts sweetie, where did you get them?"

Glynn pushed Ember aside defensively. The heat was getting to her and she was sick of idiot moshers.

"She's blind you wanker. Never seen a cataract before?"

"All right, chill, Helga," The stoner waltzed off into the hazy crowd.

Glynn felt ruffled. Oktoberfest had been perhaps the worst idea to date. Too busy, too many people – too many tourists! Why, why, WHY had she accepted the backstage passes from Harrison Bonn? And WHY had she brought Ember? This wasn't the most friendly of environments for her frail sister, and neither of them felt like cheering on Hard Goth.

Glynna lead her sister back to the comfortable confines of Hard Goth's backstage area, making sure her all-access pass was flipped around the right way. She got a glare from the bodyguard, but simply glared back, mentally screaming try me to him. He was slouching on his left knee. She could knock him out in two seconds flat-

"Whoa, Glynn," she attempted to calm herself,closing her eyes for a moment to drag back her centre. The atmosphere at the festival was definitely getting to her. So many drunk and confused people, muddled between the angry, the angst ridden, and the hope-less.

If Ember was equally effected, she did a good job of hiding it. Perhaps for the first time, Glynna envied her sister's cool indifference.

Then thought the better of it. Better to feel the chaos, recognise it for what it was, and react, than be a cold, stony iceberg floating along in nothingness.

The twins leaned against the back of a couple of speakers.

"I'm sorry, Em," Glynna tried to smile. "This is madness. We should have gone to Greece," just like you wanted to…Glynna neglected to add, feeling guilty.

Ember coughed weakly, fluttered her eyelashes in an unimpressed manner and popped a pill with a swift, elegant movement. She said nothing.

That was the last straw. Glynna gritted her teeth, and excused herself. She could not be mean to, or blame her sister, for what she had become. Ember was sick – hell, she was dying.

But how on earth had the girl just stopped reacting and feeling?

Glynn wandered aimlessly around the backstage area, trying her best to retain a sunny disposition. Just breathe. Smile. Wave. Giggle yourself silly.

She plopped herself into a chair and pulled an itinerary lying idly on the table towards her to occupy her mind. It was from Bonn's company, listing the times, places and gigs Hard Goth had signed on to do.

"I don't give a flying eff what you think sounds better," one of the roadies bellowed, coming into the building on his last word. Glynn reddened, realising she couldn't remember his name. Such was the case with many roadies; they were known to most members of their assorted party only by attitude (and occasionally, odour). This one was always stomping around in a flurry of insults, putting on an annoying British accent (even though he was Australian) in an effort to sound cultured, or perhaps punk. She smiled at the agitated-looking man. He didn't seem to notice she was there, storming through to one of the adjoining rooms, arms full of cables, papers, and beer cans.

Music filtered through the door the roadie had left open. Being tone deaf, Glynn had only one, undescriptive word to pin to it – loud. She winced.

What the hell was she doing here? She was in Germany. There were a million places she and Ember could be – just because she had these tickets didn't mean they had to use them.

Glynna found Ember exactly where she'd left her – propped up against some speakers, looking apathetic and feeble.

"Come on," she grabbed her sister's arm, which felt weightless. "We're going out."

Ember shrugged.

Glynna rolled her eyes, moving away from the music and towards the back door that lead to the outside world. She put her sunglasses on as she stepped into the sunlight, and nodded good afternoon to the security guards outside.

"Oh, the door's opening!"

"Who is it?"

"I want your babies Gabe!"

"Oh, it's just those groupies again."

Glynna glared at the sarcastic, pathetic Hard Goth fans who had taken to haunting the back door of the fenced-off Hard Goth backstage area. She wondered what these fans would say, if she told them that they were not groupies. That they were in fact, guests of Hard Goth. That the unsmiling, beautiful, blind girl trailing along behind her was the writer of all those songs Hard Goth mutilated on stage this very moment?

At least they feel something, Glynna thought on, throwing a dark look at her sister.

Glynna couldn't retain her mood, though. Before long, they were walking a cobbled street, by gothic buildings that looked like museums and art galleries which, on closer inspection, turned out to be everything from toy shops to nightclubs. Munich was so beautiful. Why hadn't she thought of doing this sooner, Glynna wondered to herself, delightfully breathing in the rich smell of roasting coffee beans as they passed a café.

After about twenty minutes, Ember's grip tightened, so slightly that Glynna barely noticed it.

"What is it?" Glynna smiled back at Ember, feeling lighter than she had in months.

Ember was staring into a music shop, her good eye roving over an ancient looking guitar on display in the window.

Glynna stared between her sister and the guitar, waiting for Ember to express her interest in the guitar vocally so they could enter the store. Ember remained silent a moment longer, her gaze shifting.

"Where have I seen that before?" she was pointing at a poster.

Glynna blinked and looked. There was a sign tacked to the shop window advertising chartered tours of some German estates and castles. The poster had a picture of a grand, grey fortress on the bulk of it.

"Probably in a movie," Glynna shrugged, also feeling as though she'd seen this castle somewhere.

"I'd like to go see it," Ember sighed dreamily.

"You would?" Glynna asked quickly, taken aback. "Um, yeah, of course. We can go tomorrow. It's too late now."

Ember turned and faced her sister sadly. "I…don't think we can wait until tomorrow."

Glynna looked back at the poster for the name of the charter company, wondering why Ember was so adamant all of a sudden, after hours of nothing.

"Please, Glynn," Ember was quietly persistent. "I…I just have a weird feeling."

"You're not having another spell are you?" Glynn interrupted. "Should I call for an ambulance?"

"No, nothing like that," Ember closed her eyes a moment, holding her arms.

When Ember didn't continue, Glynn shook her head, feeling a little colder than before, and resumed reading the poster.

"Let's find these guys then," Glynna muttered. "'The Sparkling Spirit'. What kind of name is that for a tour company?"

The large, helpful rep at the Sparkling Spirit told Glynna after much questioning that the estate on the poster was an hour out of Munich and could be only reached by tour bus with them, or car. It was an estate of a local man and was to soon be taken off the tour, the rep told Glynna, his beady eyes glittering, hoping for the quick sale.

Glynna held her ground, asking for their bus timetable and trying to get the name of the place out of him. He handed over the timetable, looking slightly affronted.

"Ve run tours at eleven und three," he pointed to a range of dates on the piece of paper. There were more tours at this time of year, she noticed, thanks to Oktoberfest. The prices were also at their highest. Seemed everyone cashed in on the influx of tourists.

Glynna looked at her watch. They still had time to make the three o'clock tour.

Oh, to hell with it, Glynna forked out some Euro to the salesman, who immediately lost his affronted look and gave them directions to a nearby bus depot.

Glynna sent a silent you happy now? to her sister.

Ember had a slight smile on her lips. So slight, no one would have noticed it, unless they knew Ember, and knew how rarely she smiled.

Back outside, Glynna inspected their tickets. The main estates they would visit on the tour were listed on it.

"Well, here we go," she sighed. "I hope the Reichler estate is worth all this effort."