A/N: Chapter 11 is here! A thousand pardons! Yes, I am still alive; this update is simply, unabashedly late. *Ducks to avoid Starcrier's fish, lunch meat and lava lamp* I know, I know—I left you all in a horrible position (not to mention the awful cliffhanger). I was busy with birthdays and now I have to take finals (because EOCs are apparently not the end of the course, as the name would have a student believe). So… yeah...

A/N2: Thank you to my fantastic new favoriters/followers, and sweeping bows of gratitude to my reviewers; Stille Contrast, SkywardWriter, paigeafterpaige, darthcat, Starcrier, and OhMeOhMy. You all have admirably insane levels of patience! Please, read and enjoy, and don't forget to leave me a review! ^_^

We both stood still, the wind softly brushing my face as the world around us continued on with us frozen in place. My hands were loose around his neck, fingertips barely clinging to the collar of his coat, and I swallowed hard, chest rising and falling erratically like my heartbeat. Were it not for my knees being locked I'd probably have crumpled to the hard brick floor.

Pitch blinked slowly at me, his smile from earlier lingering around the corners of his mouth. "That was…most unexpected." I could feel his hands shift a bit where they had settled around my waist.

My face was warm; my ribcage tightened around my lungs as I tried to breathe. I opened and closed my mouth uselessly, trying for words that weren't there. "I…."

One of his hands came up to gently close my mouth, my teeth making a light clicking sound as they came together, his fingers cupping my chin. His lips quirked in a crooked grin. "I can't say that I thought you had the nerve. I'll have to remember to take you seriously from now on, won't I?"

I felt my blush deepen, looking away from his intense yellow-gray eyes with a frown. Now he was just teasing.

He used his hold on my chin to force me to meet his gaze. When he was satisfied that I wouldn't look away again, he moved to take one of my limp hands from his neck, holding it tightly in his. He pulled me close against him as the band started up again, this time with a more energetic tune that I was too unfocused to put a name to, moving along to the rhythm. "Don't look at me like that, Wisp." He sighed, the breeze echoing the sentiment.

"Like what?" I rasped, finding my voice.

His eyes were half-lidded as he glanced down at me, leaning in close. "Like I'm the bad guy." He murmured, breath stirring my hair by my ear and making me shiver.

Had I been looking at him like that? Who knew? I met his gaze evenly, willing the blood to leave my cheeks as my light played over his features. "Aren't you?"

He hummed low in the back of his throat, releasing me for a twirl before pulling me back against his chest. Bringing our joined hands to his mouth, he brushed his lips across my knuckles, letting out a rich laugh as he felt my heart try to break the sound barrier. I bit down on my cheek in embarrassment, looking off towards the other couples dancing, unaware of our existence.

"Oh, you are just too fun!" Pitch sighed contentedly, fingers clenching around mine and burying into my hip when I moved as if to break free of his hold.

I shot him a glare from the corner of my eye, noticing the tiny flames that licked along my fingers and singed his coat. Pitch's eyebrows furrowed as he stared down at our hands, the fire darkening his hand where it made contact with mine.

"That kind of hurts." He muttered, surprised, the barest hint of annoyance coloring his voice.

I couldn't entirely hide the smile that tugged at my mouth, mildly pleased with my uncontrolled temper. "Maybe you should let go, then." I said, lifting my chin to stare him full in the face in a challenge.

The smile slipped into an almost malicious smirk. His eyes flashed at my tone, narrowing, and his fingers closed more firmly over mine, smothering the small flames as they began to spread to his coat, and led me in a tight turn that made my hair snap behind me like a banner in the wind. His hand released mine to bury itself in the hair at the base of my neck, tilting my head back. My heart hammered against the vice-tight confines of my chest in protest as the barest tendrils of his fear wrapped around it, squeezing it mercilessly. His head bent so that our brows touched, his eyes drifting closed as he breathed me in.

"Your fear is divine." He murmured as we slowed to a stop. I closed my eyes in a silent denial, feeling the heat return with a vengeance from my throat to the roots of my hair. Worst fear: confirmed.

Please, I prayed to anyone and everyone who would listen, kill me now. I'm already dying of embarrassment, but if you could speed up the process, it would be much appreciated.

I gulped in a breath, realizing I had stopped breathing momentarily. Obviously, suffocation wouldn't do anything for me. My throat was desert dry. "You know, then."

"About what?" I felt his nose brush along my cheekbone in a mock caress.

My hands were weak as I attempted to shove at his chest, achieving nothing. "You know full well what I'm talking about."

He chuckled deeply in my ear, and a little bit more of his fear latched onto me as his lips brushed the area just below it. "Do I? Perhaps it would be helpful if you just came out with it."

I gave something between an exasperated sigh and agitated growl, my eye snapping open to glare at the starry sky high, high above me. I wished I'd never decided to come here. Then I wouldn't be having this whole damn encounter! "The dreams, Pitch."

"What dreams?" I could feel as well as hear his infuriating smile. He was having fun with this. "I want to hear you say it."

"Damn it, Pitch!" I writhed, giving an escape another go, and failing yet again.

He pulled back so that our gazes could meet, his amused, mine wrathful. "Just say it, Wisp." He laughed, whirling us around dizzyingly.

I twisted and yanked at my hands until I was released mid-spin, the world around me spinning, disorienting me. "The dreams I had about you!" I spat, my scalp burning where I had ripped my hair free from his grasp, long locks straggling in my eyes, and staggered back several steps. "You know about the dreams I had about you."

He smirked, letting one shoulder rise and fall elegantly in a shrug before clasping his hands together behind his back. "Yes, naturally. Actually, I'll let you in on a little secret," he chuckled, melting into the shadow of the fountain. I whirled around in a tight circle, assessing the surrounding gloom with my hands curled in tight, blazing fists. "I was in complete control of myself for at least a while during all of them. The rest was all you." He whispered conspiratorially in my ear from where he reappeared behind and to my left, disappearing again when I moved to deck him.

I felt the rage and embarrassment shift and spin inside of me until it formed a hurricane inside of me that threatened to rip me apart, and fought to hold in an animalistic scream of pure frustration. I wanted to self-destruct; I wanted to throw the tantrum of a century; I wanted to hurl Pitch off a cliff for intruding upon the privacy of my sleeping unconscious. "I can't believe you! What kind of sick individual does that?!" I snarled, twisting my fingers into my hair, digging my fingernails into my scalp.

I relinquished my hold on my hair, my hands sliding down instead to cover my face as I felt my wrath shrivel under the overwhelming force of my mortification, scalding hot tears welling up behind fiercely-closed lids. I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes, feeling the tears burn their way down my cheeks as they escaped. Not sticking around to hear him out or have him make fun of me, I leapt up into the air's cradling embrace and took off blindly into the night.

A tiny voice in me whispered tauntingly, Coward.

I swung my legs lightly in the air from where I sat on top of the guardrail over the ravine, staring down at the river as it rushed far below me, glimmering faintly in the timid rays of the beginning dawn. My boots clicked and clanged against the metal rail's supports, the sound almost inaudibly echoing around me. I was beginning to wonder if this would just be the place I would always wander to when I was in distress, like a homing beacon.

But if it's a homing beacon, shouldn't it take me back to Emmy? I thought mildly, watching the river's water whirl and wind through rocks and carve its way through the ravine, inhaling deeply the scent of the pine trees. My fingers clenched around the rail on either side of me as I leaned into the wind, teasing myself with a tiny adrenaline rush, and sighed. I couldn't do it; I couldn't let myself fall again.

Lips pursed in disappointment, I swung my legs back over the rail and hopped down onto the sidewalk, the heels of my boots clicking softly on the cracked concrete. I walked along the familiar path to the end of the bridge, into the forest, tracing the frantic pathway Jenna and I had taken that night to find Emmy, what seemed like a million years ago. It felt strange to actually have to step over scraggly underbrush and roots. For the past week I'd just been flying everywhere. My legs wobbled here and there, but I was proud that I didn't ever fall, though I did occasionally trip. It was a humbling feeling, the weakness in my knees and ankles; it reminded me I was human, too, once. Not that long ago, really.

I stopped when I came to the place we'd found Emmy, running my fingers over the time- and weather-worn bark of the felled tree, feeling it scratch my fingertips. I lowered myself to the forest floor beside it, where Emmy had laid, and stretched out among the fallen pine needles, twigs and moss, curling one arm under my head as a pillow. I smiled, remembering how proud she'd been of herself, hiding in her worst fear. I'd been proud, too, overwhelmingly so. She was so brave now, though I supposed her original fear had just shifted. She was probably afraid of falling now, after watching me…yeah. That.

It was weird to think about. I was dead, but I wasn't. Myra had most definitely died. Maybe I should ask Emmy to stop calling me Myra… no, that would just confuse her, or make her sad, and I had always hated to see Emmy sad. And if I wasn't at least partially Myra, I wouldn't have any claim to her (or Jenna) anymore. I had to be at least partly Myra to care about her this much. I rubbed my temples strongly with a groan, fighting a migraine, and shoved the entire thought process to the back of my mind to be further developed on some distant day. Or never. I could do never.

I watched as the first of the sun's rays penetrated through the forest, slowly, quietly, until the grove around me was filled with a soft light, birds beginning their morning calls. They chirped loudly to be heard over the boisterous rush of the river. I let my fingers of my free hand trail through the mess of the forest floor languidly, allowing my eyes to slowly drift closed. Sleep filled my limbs, making me still.

"Tell me, Fair Maid of Ireland: do you usually take a snooze in the middle of nowhere?" A humor-filled voice questioned from directly above my head.

I rolled onto my back, letting my hair drag over the moss and dirt as I did so, and cracked one eye open to stare at Trick where he perched on the log, looming over me with a large, sharp-toothed grin. I raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm not 'fair', and we're not in Ireland." I said, voice thick with slumber.

He let out an amused snort and rolled his burning eyes, popping a caramel chew into his mouth, the wrapper fluttering down to land on my shoulder. "'Tis but a name, lass." His lantern jangled at his hip as he plopped down onto the ground beside me. He swatted at my calf, "And besides that, don't be daft. You're a might fairer than many a sight I've seen in this past century."

"Flatterer." I chuckled, rising to a sitting position, pine needles raining down onto the ground from where they came loose from my hair.

He winked at me, grinning. "And don't you go forgetting it."

I picked up his wrapper where it had fallen, turning it over and over between my fingertips. "What'd you come all the way out here for, Trick?"

His eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean, Wisp? Is there somewhere else I should be that I don't know?"

"It's almost Halloween," I said, meeting his gaze, "shouldn't you be busy getting everything ready?"

Trick burst with laughter, the sound of it ringing out through the surrounding wood. "You're worried about my schedule? Oh, darlin', Halloween doesn't need much help from my end 'til the day of. Or would that be the night of? Anyhow, most of it I can leave up to the mortals to take care of themselves."

"I see,"

"Besides that," he added, "working's not too terribly fun, if you ask me. I'd prefer to spend my time whiling away the hours talking to pretty things— like you."

I shook my head, holding in an insipid giggle. "Okay, Jock Stewart."

"'So be easy and free when you're drinking with me, I'm a man you don't meet every day!'" he sang raucously, making me laugh. He grinned at the sound, squeezing my shoulder. "Ah, that's better!"

I shoved his arm lightly, still chortling a bit, and leaned my back against the log. "Ugh, you're too fun, you know that?"

"No such thing, though I'm pleased that you think so." He said with a contented smile.

"You're also a horrible litterer." I said, fluttering the cellophane wrapper in his face.

He held a hand to his heart as though wounded. "Am not! Don't know where you found that."

I raised an eyebrow at him and waited until he finally admitted that he did, in fact, recognize the wrapper. "Seriously, how hard could it be for you to, I don't know, burn it in your lantern or something?"

His expression took on a look of being appalled. "Whyever would I do such a thing to my beautiful lantern?" He gasped, cradling said belonging to his chest like it was a baby.

"It won't hurt it, you dork." I chuckled, tugging it from him. "Watch."

Reluctantly, he let go of it, hovering almost on top of me as he watched me twist the Treat-side latch open, lifting the small door open and feeling sparks from the crimson and gold flames kiss my fingers as I smoothly inserted the wrapper into the heart of the fire. Flames licked adoringly at my palm and wrist, my eyebrows rising at how deep the lantern was.

When I pulled my hand free, I was surprised to see that some of his flames had clung to my skin in glittering red-gold swirls where the fire had touched it. Even when the flames died, the marks remained. I turned halfway to Trick, twisting my hand this way and that. "Do your hands look like this, too?"

Trick closed the little engraved door, locking it, before carefully removing both of his gloves, holding out his hands for me to inspect. The right hand was almost entirely covered in red and gold knot work, disappearing well up into his sleeves, the left the same thing in sapphire and emerald. When I moved to push his sleeves up, he brushed away my hands, shrugging out of his stitched and fitted tailcoat to reveal his well-defined arms, bared by the leather, velvet and silk patchwork vest he wore underneath. My fingers had a will of their own as they traced the crimson and gold colored markings, marveling at how they twisted to form wyverns and dragons here and how in other areas it matched the engraving on his lantern, the ecstatic children glittering warmly in the sunlight. It was much the same on the other arm, but the children's faces were contorted unhappily as they silently wailed and screamed. It was actually pretty damn terrifying. Eyeing how the markings disappeared beneath the vest, I was guessing they covered his chest as well.

His lips quirked up in a flirty smile. "Would you like me to take off my vest, too?"

I felt the flush creep up my throat to my cheeks as I quickly shook my head. "That won't be necessary!" I said, waving my hands agitatedly.

He shrugged. "If you say so." Chuckling, he pulled his coat back on, doing up the sterling bat-shaped buttons.

I pulled my knees up to my chest, waiting patiently for him to be done putting his gloves back on. "How long have you had all of those markings?" I asked after a few hesitant attempts, breaking the quiet that had began to settle between us.

"Forever." He stated simply, turning his prized lantern over and over in his hands, admiring how the light caused the twisted and carved wrought iron to almost glow. "It takes quite a while, but the marks get bigger, more detailed, farther. Sometimes it's like the lantern's trying to swallow me up, but I love it anyway." He said with his usual easy grin.

I looked at his face, focusing on the half of his face that he had covered up, today with a black beaked mask. "Is it…?" I let it trail off, knowing he'd understand.

He did. Reaching up, slowly, he pulled away the mask to reveal the midnight blue and leaf green marks that twined and strained across his jaw and along his cheekbone toward his eye, like a tree's branches toward the sun. "There's a reason I started calling myself 'Trick'." He explained with a smirk, turning his head to the side to give me a better look, "I use my trick-fire more than I do the other, so it's much more…progressed, I guess you could say."

"You're going to be okay though, right?"

He reached out and mussed my hair with a lopsided grin. "Aw, don't worry about me, Wisp. I'll be fine."

I frowned, pushing his hand away. "Trick—,"I cut off with a surprised yell when his lantern shot up from his lap and smacked me in the forehead before rolling away a bit to nestle in a bed of yellowed pine needles. "What was that about?!" I gasped, rubbing my head where the lantern had hit it.

Trick stared at the lantern, eyes wide with shock. "I have no idea."

We both scrambled after it as it began moving again, erratically, as if some feral thing was trapped inside of it and fighting for freedom.

"What did you do?" He asked me irritably as he chased the lantern away from the nearby cliff face.

"I didn't do anything," I replied, stumbling over a rock, "….at least, I don't think I did."

I tripped over a tree root in an attempt to capture it, and Trick tackled it when it came to rest against the base of a pine tree, gripping it tightly to his torso. His fingers fumbled with the latch as he struggled to quickly open the thrashing lantern, throwing open the small door. Something akin to a shooting star burst out from the confines of the lantern to smack into my solar plexus, knocking the wind out of me, and I closed my hands around it to keep it from flying off again.

"Did you catch it?" Trick asked, brushing dirt and foliage from his backside as he stood, coming over to where I was.

"Think so," I brought my hands up to our face level and cautiously opened up my hands, both of us leaning in to peek at whatever it was.

His burning eyes opened so wide it would've been comical, were mine not exactly as big. His hands came up to mirror mine. "For flip's sake, what have you done, woman?" he breathed, though the question was filled with awe instead of anger.

"I think the better question is: what have we done?"

We gazed down at the little…burning…thing. It was like a little girl, but instead of having a definitive shape (or feet, or even really hands) it had a basic shape and tiny, slender arms and a pixie-like face. The more I stared at it, the more I thought that its face looked alarmingly like Emmy's…or a very young version of me. Only, it had crimson hair instead of raven-black, and it glowed golden. Just like Trick's treat-fire.

He worked his mouth a bit, lips curling in a strange smile. "Can I…can I hold it?"

I gave myself a mental shake. "Sure, I don't see why not." Carefully, slowly, I let it/her tumble into his waiting hands, watching as he shifted his hold on it—her?— so he was cradling it—her— gently in the crook of his elbow, albeit awkwardly.

I retreated into the back of my mind for my quick mental breakdown, letting it all out.

OHHHHHHH MYYYYY GOD! I mentally screamed, running in little mental circles with my head in my imaginary hands. THAT'S NOT WHAT I THINK IT IS. THAT'S NOT WHAT I THINK IT IS. NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE! IT CAN'T BE. IT'S NOT—!

Yeah, I think it is. Said the calm, all-knowing voice deep inside me that I had accepted as my conscience.

BUT IT CAN'T—THAT'S NOT HOW—I DON'T UNDERSTAND!

I snapped back into the physical world when I felt Trick's eyes on my face, watching me warily. "You alright, Wisp? You're flickering, and you got all vacant-eyed on me."

"I'm fine." I wheezed, a blatant lie, staring at the little burning girl protectively tucked in Trick's arms.

He graciously didn't call me out on my awful un-truth, opting instead to play along. "Her eyes opened a little while ago." He said conversationally, making me wonder how long I'd been mentally checked out.

"Yeah?"

He smiled softly down at her. "They're just like mine." He crooned, bouncing a bit.

I was torn between laughing and vomiting, I was so anxious and confused.

A/N: Again, sorry it took so long! But summer vacation is four days away, meeeeeaning you all get chapters faster! Yay for you all! PLEEEASE review! It makes me update faster!