One year had passed since Victor had convinced me to unbraid my hair. And mother still hadn't caught me. Victor's words had set me thinking. But since then, he hadn't spoken to me like that yet.

Mama and Father were out of town visiting the nearby city of Anchalan on business. Father was going to invest in the building of a bank there, an investment that would bring him into the world of financial security, he said.

I couldn't understand what their obsession with riches was spurred by. But I knew that that same obsession had turned both Victor and I into slaves of mother's whims, for her fetish for perfectionism. I was to learn lather that this lust for riches would lead, not only to my everlasting damnation, but another's as well.

I had just let my hair loose, and it was blowing freely about my shoulders in thick, shiny dark waves in the hot summer winds. I bent down to pluck up a daisy, and then continued walking.

I was nearing one of my favorite places; a small clearing in the middle of the woods that surrounded the village, where millions of tiny white daisies scattered the ground, like a delicate white carpet among the tall, lush green grasses.

It had become somewhat of a ritual for me to come here, unravel my hair, and think.

Here, the trees bridged the gap that separated reality and fantasy. The smooth bark of the tall trees around this place was a deep, dark brown, glossy and saturated with sap that caught the light with sunshine glimmered through the canopy of leaves far above my head. The trunks split off into strong limbs and branches further upward, ideal for climbing if they weren't so high up. The leaves themselves were what created the bridge. They were not a deep green, like most leaves were, but a soft teal, getting lighter in color the higher they got, like the needles of a blue spruce tree. Their color blended with the sky, making the trees appear as if they were a part of the heavens.

I sank to my knees in the center of the circle of trees, my eyes turned upward.

A branch snapped behind me.

I spun around, startled.

"Taaja?"

I blinked. A tall boy stood on the outskirts of the clearing, obviously hesitant. He wore soft moccasins on his feet, and fitted black breeches. A long-sleeved tan shirt was halfway laced at his chest, baring the tan skin of his muscular chest. I recognized him immediately for his white-blond hair.

"Amery?"

He smiled. "I thought that was you." He began to make his way towards me, picking his way carefully through the grasses, purposefully making an effort not to trample any flowers. I noticed he carried a bow.

"What are you doing way out here?" he asked. He sat down next to me, setting his bow aside in the grass.

"Thinking. I take it you were hunting?"

He shook his head. "I was supposed to, but…" he trailed off and tilted his head to the side, staring at me intently.

I frowned. "What?"

He slowly lifted a hand and touched my hair.

I flushed scarlet, my heart fluttering.

"I've… never seen you with your hair down before," he said slowly. "I…" Suddenly he blushed as well.

"You mustn't tell my-" I started to tell him he couldn't tell my mother about it, but froze when he ran his fingers gently through my hair.

"When I saw you here, I thought you were an angel." His brow was creased. Abruptly, he picked a daisy from the ground and tucked it in my hair. I blinked. Suddenly he scrambled to his feet, picking up his bow.

"Stay right here," Amery said. "I need to get something I made for you. I'll be right back." He bent down, grabbed my chin and kissed my cheek quickly before bounding off out of sight.

It would be the last time I'd see him while I was still human.

As soon as he left, I was visited again.

I was still sitting numbly in the center of the clearing when the soft rustling of leaves broke the silence. It came from in front of me this time. I looked up.

A pale man stood there before me, not ten feet away in the shadow of a tree. He was very tall, thin, but muscled well, whipcord strong. He was dressed completely in black with a white undershirt in the manner of a fine gentleman, but all of his clothing was tight, as if it had been fitted exactly to the contours of his body. He looked elderly, at least, his hair was a silvery shade, but his face was wise and handsome, ageless. He stayed completely in the shadow. His narrow eyes glistened red.

I froze to the spot, no longer able to feel the warmth of the sunshine on my skin. Everything had gone cold. Suddenly the sun retreated behind the clouds. Shadows coated the meadow. The man walked towards me, silent, smiling. He paused in front of me, then bent down and snatched the flower from my hair in one blindingly fast motion. I jerked. His fingers had brushed my cheek- his touch was icy cold.

He turned around, and began to walk away, and relief flooded my body. But then he spoke over his shoulder, and all my fears came rushing back.

"I'll see you soon, Taaja Hart."