"What we can do is we can track the last place where Fred's cell phone was known to be switched on," Police Officer Kent said, putting his hand on Mrs Jones's shoulder as she leaned against her husband slightly. Fred had been missing for nearly forty-eight hours and his parents were becoming hysteric.

"Just anything that'll bring him back," Mrs Jones said softly, closing her eyes for a minute and falling back to lie on the sofa. Mr Jones stroked her thick blonde hair, so much like his and his son's, and turned to the officer.

"We need him back. He's only seventeen. I know legally he's an adult now, but you said yourselves that there was a sign of a struggle where his wallet was found and you have to say this is suspicious. Please can you upgrade this to a formal missing person search instead of making out he's a runaway?"

"I can only do so much," the man said gently, standing up and walking to the door. "But I will do my best."

Nobody noticed a shadow slip past just before the door opened and the man walked away.

"We'll find him, Penny," Mr Jones said gently as his wife began sobbing, tears of frustration and anxiety and overall tears of a mother missing her son. "James will lead us to him."

"But he hasn't yet," Penny whispered through her tears, her cheeks swollen and blotchy from crying and the bump of Fred's wallet showing through her cardigan pocket. It had been in her pocket ever since Officer Kent had given it to her an hour or so ago; the wallet had been the reason for his visit.

"Then we'll find him," Mr Jones soothed, leaning down and kissing her damp cheek. "We'll do it. He can't be far. All we have to do is become detectives, like him."

The doorbell rang suddenly, smashing the delicate quietness in the room. Mr Jones stood up.

"It's probably a neighbour or one of the gang, wanting an update."

He opened the door to reveal a teenage girl, about fifteen or sixteen, with ragged clothes and two strange and clearly unnatural bulges on either side of her mouth.

Mr Jones had barely had time to clock her strange appearance when she had reached out and put her hand on his arm.

"Mr Sam Jones?"

Mr Jones frowned in puzzlement, his eyebrows drawing together but his expression not malevolent.

"Hello, can I help you?"

"I am helping you. My name is Loszina. Your son is safe. I took him, but I did not do it to harm him. It is to do with your brother and his secrets."

"He… he's not been ransomed or anything, has he?"

"No, he isn't being ransomed. We simply need him for a while. He will not be harmed at all, but I cannot tell you where he is."

"Tell me! He's my son!" Mr Jones thundered, grabbing Loszina's arm and refusing to let go. Loszina gave him a calm smile.

"One day he will be able to tell you. And then you will understand."

A huge cloud of dark smoke engulfed the doorstep as Mr Jones felt Loszina's arm vanish from under his. He grabbed at the air, coughing slightly, but the girl was gone.

As he stepped out, looking for her, he saw a thickly-furred red cat's tail swing out of sight behind a tree trunk.


"My… my uncle?"

Fred stared at Myrrh as though he was a madman, his face incredulous.

"My uncle's dead! How can I talk to him?"

"Only his body is dead," Myrrh replied swiftly, pulling Fred out of the tent after him. The people clustered outside stared at him, muttering amongst themselves in their incomprehensible native tongue. Fred felt his cheeks grow hot and looked down, hating being the absolute centre of attention.

"Wait. What are you taking me to see?"

"Who. Your uncle," Myrrh corrected him, not letting up. He was now striding towards a little tunnel of tree branches. Fred yanked back and pulled his arm out of Myrrh's grasp.

"What is my uncle now? Is he a ghost? What is he?"

"He is a spirit of the wood," Myrrh said, reaching back and putting his hand on Fred's shoulder as he had done before. His calming influence flowed into Fred, but the teenager wasn't going to give in that easily and stepped back.

"I want to know what I'm going to see."

The whole concept of seeing his uncle again was creeping him out; he wanted to know what to expect. Myrrh sensed his hesitation.

"He looks just as your uncle did before he died. The only difference is that you can only just see him, him being a spirit of this wood."

"If he's still here, why can't he do this mana thing?"

"He no longer has the ability to harness or even touch mana, seeing as he is made of it. That which is made of mana repels mana. It is simple, every child in our camp is told that from the earliest age possible. I am surprised you did not know."

"How could I know? I've never been here before," Fred said, irritation beginning to build in him again. Myrrh, sensing it with his druid ability, sighed and pulled on Fred's arm again, bringing him forwards and through the tunnel to the little dark glade at the other end.

"Spirit of James Jones, we have come," Myrrh called, his deep voice echoing through the area. The silence after it was almost deafening. And then it was broken.

"Who are you?" came a voice.

Fred's knees almost buckled underneath him as he recognised the voice; his uncle, his uncle whom he had lost years and years ago. He had never thought he existed anymore.

"It is I, Myrrh, with your nephew," Myrrh replied, and the voice gasped and something moved in the corner of the glade.

"Do you see him, Freddy?" Myrrh asked, directing Fred's gaze to the movement and reaching out with his hand, sending a bolt of light towards the area. Fred flinched as it made contact with something, but the something barely even moved, simply turning and showing itself to Fred in even greater clarity.

Fred stared at the apparition, his eyes rounder and wider than they'd ever been and his heart thudding so hard his chest tingled.

It was his uncle, as clear as day- and yet something was different, some aspect of him. His body was transparent and slightly hard to focus on, and his eyes glowed instead of being normal eyes that were just reflective. But it was something apart from the way he looked. Maybe it was the fact that Fred hadn't seen him for so long, but he had a feeling it was more to do with the fact that his uncle was now made completely of mana and no part of him was actually physically there.

"Freddy? Is it- is it really you? It's been so long since I last saw you… My boy… Oh my goodness, Myrrh, thank you…"

He rushed over, seeming to glide a little but approaching, and stood in front of his nephew, smiling at him.

"Freddy…"

Fred looked back into his uncle's eyes. They were glowing so hard he almost had to look away. The look of joy on his uncle's face was radiant, and he reached out with one hand to try and take his nephew's hand. Fred shrunk away, unsure and nervous of his uncle and not really knowing why. James withdrew his hand and stood still for a second, also hesitant suddenly, and then stepped back, using his body language to convey that Fred could approach him or leave.

Fred couldn't hold himself in any more. He bolted from the glade, hiding his face as he ran further and further into the woodland, away from the settlement and Myrrh and Loszina and overall his uncle, and eventually tripped and fell head-first into a thatch of undergrowth, ripping his clothing and his skin but no longer feeling the pain. He stayed there, hiding himself as someone walked by, whether one of the clan or just a normal walker he didn't know, and allowed himself to start sobbing, tears of confusion and dread and nervousness and grief and anxiety and of missing his family and friends.

He only wanted one thing; to get back to Ohio and leave all this behind. It had almost been better thinking that his uncle was dead and that was the end of it than it had been knowing that he was a spirit in woodland not far away from Fred's own home. He wished none of this had happened so hard his heart felt like it would burst.

After what could have been a lifetime, since Fred had lost track of all time, he stood and pulled himself away from the thorns and bush at his feet, starting to walk towards the path.

He would go home. These people could find someone else. This was not something he wanted to be involved in any more.

But every step whispered that he was betraying his uncle. Every step screamed in his head for him to go back.

Falling onto a bench and covering his face with his tattered jacket, Fred let himself fall into a light and troubled sleep, punctuated by Loszina and Myrrh and his uncle's translucent face in the moonlight.

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update, we did have a half-day at school but my friend came round mine unexpectedly… it's up now, anyway. REVIEW PLEASE! Jazzola