"If I pick up Sebastius, how are we going to get back in?"

Thronden turned with a script in each hand, an arched eyebrow. "You're speaking to the wrong person. If you want the answer, go ask your father."

I rolled my eyes. "He is not my father. How many times do I have to repeat that?"

"Until I tire of it which will not occur for some time," he replied, turning back around. In two senses, he was turning his back on me. It was disappointing, but I choked it down. This had happened to me before, but it happens to everyone. Everyone gets let down, but it's one of those things that remind us no one is perfect.

"Whatever." I walked away from him with a detached expression, although my throat was choked with hurt. Another person had let me down, and had done so so coldly that I felt frostbitten; and the heart getting frostbitten is not something that heals overnight. It takes time.

I decided to use my hurt to my advantage because I didn't care what happened when I was hurt; because I was hurt, I didn't have to worry about shyness or clamming up, even before a complete stranger. Feeling sour, mixed emotions, I strode boldly up to my 'father' and asked with a detached expression, "If I pick up Sebastius, what method will we use to get back here?" I almost glared at him.

The Master of the Tower's head swiveled slowly –as a warning- in my direction. I knew he demanded respect and my tone had been slightly irritated, impatient, and casual but in no way respectful. He stared at me and I matched it. Finally, he responded, "I will give you two rings. One for Sebastius and one for you."

"Arigatou gozaimasu, Mejin," I thanked him in Japanese before retreating to the wagon I shared with Gwenda, Shaunacy, and Brienda. Yes, the gods hate me. I was sharing cramped quarters with the three thespians of the troupe that I disliked, even slightly hated.

I flopped back onto three plush pillows with an annoyed sigh. The only space I possessed: the darkest corner of the wagon with three pillows that offered no support to my head and one thin, white cambric sheet that could barely pass as a blanket. I sighed heavily again, bonking the back of my head against the wood, meditating.

What would Maximum Ride do? I wondered. Even though she would probably never get herself into a mess like this. Would the Erasers follow? Would Ari try to kill Max despite being in an alien world? Poor Ari, seven years old and he expired.

Have you ever jumped into an icy pool or even fell in? Stuck your finger in an electric socket? Hit by lightening? Had a bad epiphany?

It feels like every single nerve is screaming from the electrical overload, tingling acutely with realization and pain. And the message of pain spreads from impact through the suffering body to the panicked brain as it shuts down with shock from the critical, surplus of signals.

Well, I had an epiphany that overloaded by brain with a horrible option.

Ari hadn't been born an Eraser; he had the lupine DNA grafted into him when he was a few years old. He lived to be seven years old before his expiration date kicked in. I was around fifteen-sixteen. How much longer did I have to live? About a decade? Even shorter?

The sucky part about science (and math) is the unknown variables. Even though death can strike at any time, it's more terrifying for mutants. Mutants never have an easy life: born in a cage, having blood samples taken, running harsh tasks, competing against other experiments to live. If a mutant is lucky enough to escape, they spend the rest of their miserable life trying to blend into the world while being hunted by well-funded, well-equipped, fed, washed Erasers. Morale of the story, kids: don't choose being a mutant for your career.

Wait. I frowned, brows furrowing. I have dragons blood in me. Dragons live for hundreds to thousands of years at a time. That leaves me with one question: Do I have all the time in the world or no time at all?

My hand unconsciously went to itch at the black lotus tattoo. I gazed down at it. Sebastius had said that death couldn't touch me if I had the mark of the Players of Gilean, but I was the only player in the history of the troupe who had ever gotten sick. I was pretty sure I was the only one whose tattoo had faded to a dark gray and itched like hell.

I could feel it- life strangling me with a wet noodle.

"I need to fly," I groaned, getting up. The wind would clear my head and judgment; not to mention, when I didn't fly for some time, I tended to get edgy and my wings cramped.

My hand reached for the handle of the door when it turned of its own accord. I stared at it as the door also opened seemingly by itself, and then I spotted Gwenda holding the handle, looking as surprised to see me. We avoided each other at all costs with the occasional blue moon bumping.

"Oh good, I needed to see you," she said, barging in while effectively blocking the one and only exit.

I had my back against the wall. "And?"

"You will not get Sebastius." Her deep purple eyes bored into mine. Silver brows connected in a concentrated V as her small lips pressed together.

I blinked. "Would you care to explain why?"

"No, it is not your business," Gwenda answered too quickly, grasping tightly onto my shoulders. Long nails dug into my flesh. "Do as I say."

Face twisted in disbelief, I pushed her shoulders. "None of my business? If it concerns the troupe leader and his welfare, I believe that does make it my business, newbie. You are most definitely not my boss." I slipped past her and fled the now contaminated wagon.

Gwenda followed me and called to my back. "Just because you're Raistlin's Daughter doesn't mean you have any power."

I turned around with a sarcastic, dangerous smile, the kind of smile that men know when they should cover their family jewels very quickly or run. "Did I ever imply I had power? Let's think about that, no. Did I ever imply I was Raistlin's Daughter? You insinuated it."

Gwenda puffed up, resembling an angry fish with blotchy cheeks. "Go to hell!"

"I did," I said sweetly. "I have a restraining order." I stopped smiling. "Now, am I correct in assuming that crap comes out of the butt, not the mouth? Because all I hear is crap flowing from your mouth. I could fix it for you or refer you to a doctor."

Gwenda was speechless. So was everyone else who had watched and heard. My verbal stab being said and done, I pivoted on my heel and made my way toward the door of the Tower.

If I had smiled while saying my little spiel, that would have meant I was happy and gloating that I had hurt my opponent. Not smiling and acting indifferent meant that the opponent and their pain didn't cross my mind- calculating, cold, and apathetic. The effect was similar to sticking a sharp object into a balloon: it utterly blew them away.

Satisfied, I exited the Tower of High Sorcery unmolested.

I glanced back at the Shoikan Oak Grove, the large oaks sitting there innocently. It didn't care when someone left, but it sat up when someone wanted in. I exhaled the icy feeling that had lodged in my chest. It was quickly replaced by the seeds of guilt. Being that cold wasn't my thing and I was beginning to regret what I had said.

I shook my head fiercely. "What's done is done," I told myself.

As I cast an invisibility spell and took off, I mentally listed all the wonderful things I had accomplished today: reserved a place on Dalamar's hit list, topped Gwenda's hit list, displayed to the troupe that I was fully capable of being an Ice Queen, met Raistlin Majere, mocked his apprentice, and was widely despised by the Players of Gilean for scrawling 'hell yes' in all capital letters on the condemning missive that landed us in the Tower.

Yes, today had been fruitful.

Sarcasm engulfed me and waved its banner proudly around me.

Rather than taking twenty minutes to half an hour to walk, it took five disappointingly short flying minutes to arrive at the Great Library. Another five for Bertrem to peer through the door cautiously and admit me in the library. As I waited for Bertrem to announce my arrival to his master and my master, I leisurely tiptoed through the rows of bookshelves, afraid to break the peaceful, private silence.

My eyes longingly took in the shelved sources of knowledge, fiction and non-fiction. "Sanctuary," I whispered with a small smile. Like the homey feeling the Tower gave me, libraries were my second home. The bookshelves were all full of history, touching the ceiling and floor. The Great Library gave a visitor the impression that it never ended; the maze of books: the back of the library couldn't be seen, even with my enhanced superhuman eyes squinting.

I smiled, fingertips dragging along the leather spines. Peace. Quiet. Privacy. I could lose myself in the maze of shelves and novels, find my own isle, and read until my eyeballs dissolved. I could be content here, surrounded by my friends and family. Some books slouched lazily or like drunks while others stood at attention. Here one could learn all the world had to offer yet never enter the world.

I sighed, fondly caressing the spine of a particularly thick book with my index finger, when I heard a stifled cough.

"Molesting my books?" Astinus inquired dryly.

My hand flew to my side as my eyes frantically avoided the Chronicler. "Erm, well –you see- I-uh…" I tend to stammer when embarrassed. And not look at the person. And fidget. And admire the floor. And shift my weight almost constantly. And pull my sleeves over my knuckles. Let's not forget the classical blush-every-shade-of-red.

"Rai-The Master of the Tower wants to speak with you, Sebastius," I muttered, scuffing the carpet with my worn tennis shoe. Hm, I needed new shoes.

"Please speak up, Ana. You are absolutely horrendous when it comes to projection," Sebastius said. "We will have to work on that."

"Yessir." I wanted to build myself an igloo of ice cubes and move into it. Then again, Bertrem and the other scribes wouldn't have appreciated an igloo built in the middle of an isle, especially when the igloo began to melt. Back on track.

Astinus handed his brother something while watching me. "The Master of the Tower dropped these off as you arrived. If you'll excuse me, history is in desperate need of recording. I enjoyed your stay, Sebastius."

"You too, Astinus," the brother said as Astinus disappeared behind one of the numerous bookshelves. His blue eyes pierced me. "Are you one of her sycophants?"

"Only yours, Master," I smiled. "She could never replace you, no one could or can. I'm loyal to you."

"Loyal as a griffon," my master mused. "I'm glad." He opened his hand. Two plain gold rings lay innocently in his palm. I took one, poising it at my fingertip.

"Ready?"

"My ring is too small," Sebastius commented. Of course. His hands were big and his fingers literally resembled white sausages. Sebastius was in no way, shape, or form a small man. Luckily, I knew a spell to enlarge the ring. After casting the spell twice on his ring, we slid the rings on our fingers. The sensation didn't differ from the time Dalamar had transported the entire column of wagons: a moment of nauseous-ness and, presto change-o, we were in the Tower standing before a desk at which the Master sat.

I slid the ring off my finger and gently set it on an unoccupied corner of Raistlin's desk which overflowed with paper. Paper, jars containing things I didn't want to know the contents, and a skull that was staring at me. Me, being the childish dork I am, stared back at it. Ooooh, a skull.

"Ana."

My attention went from the skull to Raistlin, my expression one of curiosity.

"Did you start the rumor that you are my daughter?" the Master asked gravely.

I was surprised. "No," I answered in an automatic 'are you crazy' tone.

"Can you tell me who did then?" It didn't take a genius to tell he was watching me shrewdly.

I gave a wry smile. "Your brother." Caramon's voice echoed in my memories: "Brother?"

Raistlin sat back against his chair- a sign that could be interpreted as dark brooding. "Tell me what happened."

Blushing, I tried to think of where to begin the tale. "I woke up after having a barrel fall on me in one of the Inn's rooms. Because my clothes were wine-soaked and had been kindly burned by the troupe, the only clothes left were a pair of black robes. Not knowing where I was, I went to in the hall to get my bearings. Your brother saw me from the back and said, "'Brother?'"

"Turning around, I saw the reddish auburn haired version of the Scorpion King. "'Brother…'" I murmured, trying to figure out what idiot would think I was a guy. "'Raist, what happened to you?! How did you reverse the gold skin, the eyes, the hair? Did the spell go wrong and that's why you're young?'" Accused of being you, I responded, "'Uhm…'"

"Unfortunately, he assaulted me with a killer hug, saying, "'Raist.'"

"'My shoulders hurt, you fool!'" I snapped because that's where the barrel hit.

"He let go. "'I'm sorry Raist, but I'm so glad you came back. Please stay until you can formulate a spell that will revert you back to your original age.'"

"'Caramon, I'm not your brother,'" I said. "'I am a girl, not a boy.'"

"He began asking questions. "'What day were we born?'"

"'July 17th, 326 A.C.,'" I answered automatically. Oh man, I'm so screwed.

"'What is the name of our half-sister?'"

"'Kitiara Uth-Matar.'"

Here is my death sentence. "'What happened during your Test in the Tower of High Sorcery we forbid each other to speak of?'" Unfortunately, I knew the answer and this convinced Caramon I was your brother. I tried to convince him otherwise, and he concluded I was your daughter so he showed me to Tika.

"Ma'am, please restrain your husband. I am in no way, shape, or form related to this fool or the famously infamous Raistlin Majere. If he doesn't stop molesting my arm, I'll hand him over to the police for assault and disturbing the peace,'" I warned Tika.

"'Assault?'"

"'He hugged me. My shoulder hurts like a mother.'"

She fingered her iron skillet. "'Disturbing whose peace?'"

So, I explained, "'If word spread that I was Raistlin's daughter, there would be no peace. Not to mention Raistlin would probably bash me over the head with the Staff of Magius.'"

Of course, the witch said, "'If you think you're going to tell the police, I'll let it slip you are Raistlin's daughter.'"

"'Fine, just stop him from acting all creepy,'" I agreed. They argued if I was your daughter or not, but Caramon finally brainwashed Tika by saying, "'This girl has the features Raist had: blue eyes, auburn hair although not yellow auburn, extremely think, and tall. I'll be darned if she doesn't have his traits: intelligent, witty, and sarcastic. She even shares his passion for the magic.'"

"'She lacks something that Raistlin has. She lacks a fire, the ambitions,'" Tika tried.

"'That lack of fire could be from her mother,'" Caramon reasoned and Tika questioned him no more. Somehow the rumor leaked," I finished with a shrug. I knew I was going to get bitten hard for the answer to the Test question.

"The troupe thought your mother was kyrie," Sebastius added. Rather unnecessarily, or so I thought.

I gave my troupe leader a look. Whose side was he on? "That's not important."

"Every bit is important as the last," my 'father' disagreed. "You are dismissed." I could practically hear the menacing unspoken 'for now'. I scurried from the room quickly, the door shutting on its own. My hands slid into my pockets as I thought, Maybe I should have flown longer.

Hhm…I really want to go outside and do something worthwhile today. I don't feel like sittin' in my corner. Yule is coming up soon, isn't it? In about…shit! Two days! I have such a bad memory! I could get everyone presents; Farhana's money won't do any good collecting dust, but who to get what? I continued down the stairs, lost in thought.

Thronden needs a pair of boots…Brienda wants cosmetics…Glip wants a dead rat, ew…Harold complains about his clothes; what a diva…the costume maker requires new needles and more thread…Gwenda wants control of the troupe, but I'll get her something…I need to get to the Great Library fast!

With an excited smile, I began hopping down the treacherous spiral staircase two steps at a time. I burst part the room where the Players of Gilean were being housed before skidding to a halt. I needed someone who knew the currency of Krynn. Henrie! I ran into the room, grabbed Henrie by the wrist, and literally dragged him from the room.

"Wha-where? Ana?!" Henrie said, confused. "Why are you kidnapping me?"

"I need you," I gasped breathlessly as we left the tower in a flurry.

"I'm flattered, but where are we going?"

"To storm Palanthas!" I cried. The Shoikan Grove was behind us in a wink and we came to a stop. "Okay, first things first. We are going to fly because walking is much too slow and my wings need a good stretch."

Henrie frowned. "Won't we be seen and shot out of the sky?"

"What am I again, Henrie?"

"Really weird."

"Thank you, but I'm also a mage," I reminded him while knocking gently on his apparently wooden head. "Meaning not only am I frickin' awesome, but we can be invisible."

"Ah. Can I see your wings before we become invisible?"

"No." I cast the invisibility spell, wrapped my arms around Henrie, unfurled my wings, and took to the skies. Unfortunately, it turns out Henrie is very afraid of heights.

"WE'RE GONNA DIE!"

"Shut up!"

"Ana, do you think they'll have an extra pair of trousers at the Great Library?"

"Henrie, you're disgusting."

After buying a magical Mary Poppins pouch from Mistress Jenna, I dragged Henrie with me across Palanthas until there was only one person left to get a present for.

Snape.

"Frick," I cursed. "We need to get to Silvanesti."

"What?!" Henrie gaped. "You're not bloody serious, are you?"

"Others' happiness is my happiness, Henrie."

"I would be happy not to go with you," he offered.

I rolled my eyes. "Don't be silly. Of course you're coming with me!" When he tried to run, I caught him and magically glued Henrie's hand around my waist, keeping him close and within arm reach. Then I went back to perusing the vendors for water and travel foods.

"Come on," I said, heading toward the entrance gates.

"Like I have any choice," grumbled the grouchy jokester.

I stopped. "Frick." The guards would recognize me as the U.F.O. that entered the city. "Double frick." And then there was the blue dragon. Wait, didn't Kit ride a blue dragon? Screw her, I needed to get to Silvanesti.

Henrie was suddenly interested at my unexpected halt. "What?"

"Nothing." I cast a camouflage spell on us and a silencing hex on Henrie so he didn't alert anyone with his girly squeals.

When Lorac had stolen a dragon orb from a Tower of High Sorcery before the Cataclysm, he had tried to use it during the War of the Lance to save Silvanesti but the orb used Lorac. The orb summoned Cyan Bloodbane, who hated elves with a passion. Cyan whispered nightmares into Lorac's ears and the nightmares became reality. Gnarled trees bled, dead elves killed their loved ones, deformed animals tried to kill themselves, seeking peace. Porthios and Alhana Starbreeze were fighting the nightmare, but there was something there I hoped to find.

Even if the hope was a dying spark.

To see Dalamar react strongly was worth it.

With my internal compass as our guide and my panic hastening us, I only stopped for bathroom breaks and quick meals. By nightfall, we were cruising over water and passing over Zahakar. I hyperventilated, exhausted and breaking out in sweat, but refused to rest. If I rested, I would fall asleep and waste precious time. So tired… Even adrenaline ran out at some point, and then it was all willpower. And even willpower ran out.

"Calm down, Ana. You'll give yourself an ulcer," yawned Henrie. The lucky morons had been asleep since Solanthus.

"I only have one day," I whined. I had used my magic to double my speed, clocking me a bit over two hundred miles per hour- about the power it takes to lift an airplane from the ground. "I'll probably spend half of it sleeping."

"Why is this so urgent? What are you killing yourself to get?"

"Honey wafers."

Honey wafers were impossibly flimsy –like rice paper thin- but insanely expensive, maddeningly rare, and irresistibly desirable. The secret was Silvanesti bees produced the honey, which was mixed with crystal dew and flower pollen. The crystal dew was made from Silvanesti plants and flowers- each plant's life trapped in every precious droplet, each plant giving a distinct flavor. The earthly flower pollen was richer than the crystal honey dew. These sweeties were doled out at festive occasions such as weddings and births.

The only problem was none outside the elven country knew the secret of the delicacy's construction.

Henrie sucked in his breath. "What lucky bastard is getting those!?"

"I'm giving the dark elf a piece of his home for Yule." My wings tilted down as we began descending. I was too drained to go any further.

Henrie was silent for a moment. The peaceful thunderous silence filled the air. "You're very thoughtful," he said after a moment.

"I usually am when it seems no one is looking." One thousand feet. Gliding down, down, down…

"So you never get any credit?"

"That's how it goes," I responded wearily. Six hundred feet and descending.

Henrie leaned his head into my shoulder. "So, under that distant, cold exterior is an incredibly sweet and thoughtful person."

Blushing modestly, I grumbled, "Tell anyone and I'll drop you." Four hundred feet.

"I won't tell a soul," he grinned.

"Hn." I tucked in my wings and dive bombed three hundred feet before pulling up, floating the remaining one hundred feet. We touched down close to Silvanesti. I dropped Henrie and fell to my knees, near losing consciousness.

He touched Ana's shoulder as she tucked in her wings. Her wings for crying out loud! He decided to ignore her alien appendages and concentrate on her welfare. She had flown from Palanthas to Silvanesti- a feat which would take a month or two by wagon, even longer by foot, but by pushing herself, she had made it in a little over twelve hours.

To fly that distance for a present for an outcast!

"Are you okay?"

Ana only moaned, lying on her back on the ground. She wasn't okay. Her face was covered with sweat and her breathing was labored. Henrie wiped her face with his sleeve. There was a question her had been dying to ask. "Why me? Why bring me?"

"I can trust you," she gasped. "Can you see me carrying Sebastius in the air?"

Henrie chortled as she lost consciousness, "You rest and I'll see what I can do about those wafers." He gave her forehead a light kiss. Henrie lifted Ana and he heard the sound of an arrow being drawn behind him.

"What are you doing here?"

SPLASH!

"Ugnhhhhhh," I groaned, turning over. I had a migraine the size of the Americas. What had I drunk last night? On second thought, what hadn't I drunk? Oh yeah, I had flown from Palanthas to Silvanesti in little less than a day. All the while carrying a fellow troupe member who was afraid of heights.

"Up." Henrie didn't seem like the aggressive type. Wait, that wasn't his voice.

Grimacing, I forced open my eyes to see a haggard yet super model hot female. Her eyes were purple like Gwenda's but her hair was blacker than a crow's wing, face pale as snow. "What are you doing here?" Unfortunately, the most beautiful people tended to be the cruelest.

"Dying," I groaned, stretching cautiously.

"Would you be as joking with your life?"

I glared at her drowsily. "I'm brain-dead, lady. Let me wake up first." She did let me wake up, alright. She drowned me with another bucket of water.

"What are you doing here?"

"Looking for someone who can make honey wafers," I responded. "Tomorrow is Yule."

The elf woman studied me as I sat up, massaging my temples. "The person must be very precious. Where do you hail from?"

"Palanthas." I decided to let the 'precious' thing go. It was more the reaction that was precious to me and how precious the gift would be to the receiver.

"Too bad your trip was in vain," she said, watching my face. "The plants are twisted and animals deformed. Those who enter Silvanesti are in danger of becoming ensnared by the dream."

I bit my bottom lip. "Do they have delicacies similar to honey wafers in Qualinesti?"

"No. You aren't going to give up?"

I smiled, thinking of Naruto. "Believe it. Are there documents of ingredients? A list of the makers' names? A storage of honey wafers?"

The elf's face remained cool and impassive, reminding me of Dalamar. "I do not know."

"Is there any way to tell? Can I…go in the royal kitchens and look? Since I'm not an elf, the dream shouldn't affect me…right?" My brows furrowed.

"The dream affected the humans who entered," she said.

"I'm no ordinary human." That much was true. I wasn't even fully human anymore.

"You must be or had the assistance of an exceptionally powerful magician to have teleported from Palanthas to Silvanesti. Were you sent here by…?"

Raistlin or Dalamar? I smiled. "I'm sure the dream won't affect me. Haven't you heard? I'm 'Raistlin's Daughter'."

She gasped audibly and another elf –male- charged into the tent, sword half-drawn. "Is something wrong, your Majesty?" Majesty…obsidian hair…purple eyes…Alhana Starbreeze! The male elf must be the loyal Samar.

She confirmed my suspicions. "Nothing, Samar."

Samar quickly glanced in my direction and I smiled secretively. "Do you know where Henrie is?"

Samar beat his queen to the punch. "He is in the dream, searching for sweeties- a waste of time and his life."

"Actually, he won't die," I said, getting up. "He can't and neither can I. Will you please let me go after him?"

The two elves were silent. I tiptoed cautiously around Samar as if he would suddenly begin waving his sword at me. Before me stood one of the creepiest sights ever, the nightmare called Silvanesti. "Wow," I whistled. "Cyan really did a number on this place."

"You know of Cyan?" Alhana inquired sharply, coming out of the tent briskly.

"Well…yeah," I said lamely. "Please tell your archers not to shoot me down."

Samar snorted. "What are you going to do? Fly in?"

I smiled. "Exactly. If you'll excuse me, your Majesty and Samar, I've got a friend to save and wafers to retrieve. Thanks for the hospitality." I turned and ran toward Silvanesti –a place Alien or Predator would have loved to call home- and spread my wings.

I heard Alhana shouting something in Elvish amongst other elf cries. I swallowed down bile while flying over the wasted lands. Everything was black, stunk to high heaven, gnarled, evil, and repulsive. The trees and animals hurt my heart; I could feel the pain from the faint animal cries and silent tortured screams of the trees. I saw the royal home, untouched. Landing on the courtyard outside the palace, I shoved open the large, dusty doors.

Or tried to. They were rusted shut.

Irritated, I kicked the door and it creaked open loudly. A glance behind told me that nothing –living, dead, or undead- had heard or cared. I ran inside, dashing around madly, muttering "royal kitchen."

"Henrie!" I called, cupping my hands around my mouth as I darted about. "Henrie! This isn't the place to play hide-and- seek! The Tower is a better place to play; it doesn't have undead wandering about without command! If you're trying to scare me, this isn't funny."

I managed to bumble into the ornate, abandoned kitchen. "Wow, the elves had good taste," I murmured appreciatively, opened and closing cabinets. No decent food in the pantry or in the cupboards. All of it had disintegrated into dust or molded so badly I swore it could move. It was then I happened upon some papers.

Something seized my sides and I gasped, heart stopping, as I whirled around, wide-eyed. Why hadn't I screamed? I inhaled so quickly the scream imploded in me, rather than projected out my mouth. Henrie began laughing, clutching at his sides as he leaned against a dusty counter. I gaped stupidly at him for a whole five minutes and before you could say 'shit', anger was brewing the magic as it rushed through my veins.

"Henrie," I growled through gritted teeth. Being part dragon, the growl literally imitated a deep, low rumbling of a dragon. Oops, had that come from me?

"Istar be damned," he cursed running away as I began hurling spells at his retreating back, screaming.

"YOU IDIOT! I NEARLY DIED OF A FRICKIN' HEART ATTACK! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? OH, WAIT! YOU WEREN'T! WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING, HENRIE?! STAND STILL SO I CAN BUTCHER YOU!" I shrieked, throwing fire and brimstone at the smiling jokester as I chased after him. An inarticulate, griffon-ish scream tore from my throat as I yelled at the top of my voice. "GO BURN IN THE ABYSS! NEVER, EVER SCARE ME AGAIN!" With a snarl, I stiffly stormed back to the kitchen to rifle through the newly discovered papers.

Muttering things a hardened war veteran or Ergothian would either be proud of or faint, I thumbed through the recipes. "Treacle Tower Tarts…hm, banana split with a different name…oh, chocolate fondue! Yummy." I finished with that stack. I glanced at the remaining towering stack of yellow paged stacks of parchment and scrolls.

"If I come in, are you going to kill me?" Henrie was back without his tail between his legs.

"No because time is killing us," I said, skimming.

"So harsh, but so true," sighed Henrie. "Well, for others. We have all the time in the world."

"But Christmas doesn't," I snapped.

"Christmas?"

I gave Henrie a brief, simple explanation. "Where I come from we call Yule Christmas. Now shut up and start skimming."

"Found the little bastard," Henrie called out after an hour of his frantic skimming and my magical studying.

I gave the recipe a pained glower. "About time! It's nearly noon!" Taking out a fresh, blank scroll and ink well with a quill, I carefully copied it down verbatim, every word legibly written. Using a mild wind spell to dry the ink, I began telling Henrie my plan. "Before we leave, I have to give Alhana and Porthios their Chr-Yule gift. I'll use a few spells to get us zipping to Solanthus where we will break half an hour for rest. From there on it's a straight shot to Palanthas. We should reach the marble city by midnight at latest."

"You're weird. All this for Dalamar? You must have a thing for him," Henrie snorted.

I grinned. "You say 'weird' like it's a bad thing and the only thing I have for Snape is his present."

"Why are you risking your life and mine for this?"

"Because it makes the gift all the more valuable," I answered the no-brainer. "I want to see his reaction. I know he loves and misses Silvanesti. Wouldn't you want a piece of home for Yule especially if you were kicked out of your home forever?"

"I would know," Henrie said bitterly, "I can't go back to mine. I was too feminine for my father and my mother wanted a girl…According to him, acting and plays weren't manly. He kicked me out when I was seventeen, out in the cold." He was unwilling to say anymore.

"Then you, of all people, should understand why I'm doing this," I whispered, patting his shoulder.

Henrie was moody as I gave the elf Majesties the bag of two hundred pieces of steel I had brought to buy the honey wafers. The tension between Henrie and I was uncomfortable as we made the journey back. As a joke, during the stop at Solanthus, I played the William Tell Overture which is often used as 'to the rescue!' music. Now I pushed myself to reach Palanthas in time.

The obsession to be on time consumed me.

Once more I ran out of adrenaline, once more I ran on willpower, once more the willpower began ebbing as the sun dipped farther and farther behind the snow-capped mountains. Twice, I ran into a snowstorm, got turned around, before finding my way again. I was getting desperate.

Winds screamed and swung at my wings. Henrie clung onto me for desperate life as I tried to pilot us to safety- a seemingly impossible feat. Instead of having my words snatched away by the wind, I used telepathy to communicate with Henrie. This is Palanthas, but I can't see a damned thing! I'm getting bamboozled.

'So cold. So cold. Why couldn't you just transport us to the Tower or something!?'

I don't know the spell, plus the Tower would have anti-transport spells guarding it. Raistlin would be sure of that, I mentally grumbled, cold myself.

'Damn Raistlin. Damn Dalamar. Damn this weather! I want to get inside and warm up before I can never feel my limbs again! Or fall to my death!'

Shut up! If I try to land, we might end up impaling ourselves on something.

'Can't you fly above the storm?' Henrie wasn't happy.

No, I'm too weak. I'm about to fall out of the sky as it is, I admitted, feeling the cold trying to seduce me with slumber, beloved slumber.

And then I heard something. A voice calling in the storm. I could almost place the name…

It was Raistlin. Searching with his mind.

Gathering my mental strength as I shut my eyes, I telepathically answered in a shout, RAISTLIN!

Suddenly it all stopped- no wind, no erratic flight, no deathly chill, nothing. The change was so sudden, so random that my brain flipped trying to figure what was going on. Like a befuddled bird, I was flapping wildly about six feet in the air before my brain forgot how to flap. I curled protectively around Henrie –who was cursing- as we fell.

We never hit the ground. We landed softly on hard, solid, good ole' ground.

Of course Henrie scrambled to get away from me elbowing my stomach in the process. I was too busy trying not to puke my guts up to care. I shut my eyes, furling into a shivering miserable ball, as my ears faintly picked up a quickly exchanged dialogue between Raistlin and Henrie. A warm hand shook my shoulder the same time a voice called out to me.

I ignored it. If someone would honor me with a fiery death, I would ask the gods bless them.

'Are you alright?' Raistlin buzzed in my mind, almost like poking someone to irritation.

After a strong shudder, I asked, Can I die yet?

'No.'

Of course not. Can I go to sleep?

'No. Do you feel any warmth?' What a strange question to ask. Snap. Had I wet myself?

Uhm, that depends where…I do feel it on my forehead. Barely though.

No reply. I heard Raistlin's voice from outside my head. Someone gently pried me from my fetal position before picking me up bridal style. I tried curling up again but the same person warned me not to. The warmth Raistlin had mentioned spread from my forehead across my face, waking the numbed nerves.

Splashing…water…feet submerging in water…rest of body submerging in water with person who carried me…head above water. The liquid felt the same temperature as my skin but it burned. I squirmed but the person who carried me had a painfully iron clad grip. 'Stop squirming. If you don't warm up, you'll die of that frostbite and hypothermia. If you warm too quickly, the blood will rush to your heart and it will explode.'

Lucky me, I thought weakly. I was so tired all I could do was relax. I started as the person –could it be Raistlin?- splashed a little water on my face.

'My apologies.' Was it too hard to ask to black out? During my inability to pass out, I admired how incredibly gentle and sensitive my caretaker was. They were sorely tempting me with slumber, but every time something brought me back, whispering, 'Not yet, not yet. You will rest soon.'

I was sleeping. It was warm, cozy, and an equally warm and cozy blanket enveloped my body in its embrace. Warmth circulated lazily in my veins, inducing drowsiness. Yet my mind was uneasy as it began waking. It searched for a piece of lost information that flitted beyond its reach, tantalizing, teasing.

Ugh, what day is it? Did I miss it? Did I miss Yule? What am I doing sleeping!

"What day is it?" I shrieked, jerking up suddenly, trying to free myself from the constricting covers and rush out of bed…much like someone who glances at an alarm clock and sees they are extremely late for work.

"It is the twenty-second of December," answered a dry, irritated, raspy voice. "Otherwise known as Yule."

I stared at Raistlin curiously. "Oh, hi. What are you doing here?" Why is Raistlin in Silvanesti?

"I live here."

I frowned. "No, you live in…wait, where am I?" I looked around curiously, utterly lost. "Wait a sec, I gave that to them…twice through those…but then…oh yeah, I remember. Sweetness." I beamed at Raistlin. "Thank you and if you want your present, you have to take off your hood. I want to see you try not to smile."

"I'll pass," he said.

I stuck my tongue at him. "Whatever, Mr. Grinch."

"No, not whatever." He sounded mad. "Running off without warning as to where you are going is not 'whatever'. Do you know what grief you've caused me?"

"An ulcer?" When they saw their presents, the looks on their faces, it would be worth it. It will be worth it, I reminded myself with my trademark secretive smile, in the end, it will be worth it.

"Where did you and your friend visit? Obviously you were not in Palanthas because I searched every spider and rat's nest for you two at the persistence of your master." Yup, he was anything but thrilled.

I tried to come up with something terribly clever yet unrevealing. "I visited one of the ghostly haunts of your past. Probably not one of your favorites."

He glared at me. I took it as a hint to give him the answer.

"Snape's home," I giggled. "I got him a more pleasant piece of his homeland."

"How considerate." He was still annoyed, no, angry.

"We'll finish this lively conversation later," I shrugged with a sly smile. "May I see Sebastius please?" My leg was bouncing up and down rapidly on the bed- a sign of excitement and a way of exerting pent energy.

"You may after one last question. Is killing yourself for others a regular occurrence?" Uh oh. The anger was going to silent anger- the scary, pent-up, explosive kind.

"Well, where I grew up, Yule is known as Christmas. Instead of burning a Yule log, we give each other gifts," I explained. "It's like…a huge get-together thing where everyone brings gifts for the others." It felt awkward explaining this to Raistlin. To make it less awkward, I left religion out because I doubted anyone on Krynn would care about Earth religion; they had their gods and were happy…ish with them. Imagine trying to explain Jesus or Kwanza or Hanukah to a Krynnian; you would be framed a charlatan.

As Raistlin started to leave, I began playing the beginning 'Yeah Yeah' by Bodyrox. The techno and electronics sounds made him pause and turn around. I stared at the wall, singing along, "You think you got it all worked out, but you don't know nothin', nothin', nothin'. You think that you can rub me out, but I'm made of somethin', somethin', somethin'. I can teach you a thing or two (yeah oh yeah). I can teach you a thing or two (yeah oh yeah). I can teach you a thing or two (yeah oh yeah)."

My eyes met Raistlin's golden hourglass ones. "I can teach you a thing or two (yeah oh yeah)." I changed the song to 'Explosive' by Bond. He listened impassively and when it was over he left without a word. I lay down and nuzzled the pillow affectionately while purring. So comfy! And Sebastius is coming! It's Yule! Wohoo!

I squealed with exhilaration, rubbing my face in the pillow before sitting up and bouncing my leg again. Yes, I am strange when hyper, not to mention annoying. When Sebastius came in, I squeaked his name in a shrill, joyous voice and tried to run out of bed to hug him. But my legs gave out. Dang it, I cursed, sitting up, I flew so much yesterday my legs forgot their strength.

"Hold your horses, Ana. I'm sure you are exhausted. I heard you had quite the journey," my master chuckled as he picked me up like a doll. I embraced him enthusiastically, purring. Later, I planned to glomp Raistlin for saving my and Henrie's lives…right after I glomped Severus just to annoy him.

"I got everyone a present," I said as he set me on the bed. I began digging through the Mary Poppins pouch, pulling out several boxes and bags before coming upon his present.

Sebastius gave me a look before opening it. It was a complete script of The Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens (Mistress Jenna copied directly from my memory onto paper- which hurt like hell). Resting atop of the play was a bag of one hundred steel coins and a sixty watt lightbulb-sized diamond. I blushed as Sebastius kissed my cheek and thanked me.

I got Sebastius to take me to the room where the troupe was camped out. One by one my presents were opened.

Thronden was pleased with his new boots. Brienda mooned over her cosmetics. Glip began sobbing with joy when he saw three dead rats. Harold admired his new clothes; the costume maker praised me for the needles and thread. The dwarf Tyrell asked if I got his ale from Thorbardin, but I said no. Benny was reading the book on demons I got him after he called me 'demon child' again. Everyone was pleased with their gift.

Gwenda had yet to open hers. Instead, she glowered at me, silently accusing me of being an assassin or murderer. Sorely tempted as I had been to give her a viper, I found a suitable gift for her. I watched with a smile as curiosity got the better of her.

"A watch?" She was contemptuous.

I rolled my eyes. "An ordinary watch from me? You've got to be crazy."

She opened it and the watch began singing 'Living in a Bubble' by Eiffel 65. Closing and opening it again, it serenaded, 'Let It Be' by the Beatles. As another special feature, it had a 3-D map of Krynn that hovered a foot above the bronze watch.

"If you touch one of the names, it will zoom in," I told her as everyone gaped at me. Ah, the advantages of knowing what a satellite is. It was like a GPS.

"What is this red dot on Palanthas?" she asked, pointing. Her finger accidentally touched it and the map zoomed in, showing a layout of the city. The red dot was focused on the lower part of the Tower of High Sorcery.

"That red dot is you. It shows your location and this way, you'll never be lost again," I assured her. I noticed she was struggling not to show her awe and maybe an inkling of respect.

"Aw, that is so awesome, Gwenda," whistled one of Henrie's friends who I had given two decks of cards and a list of Earth card games like Rummy, Old Maid, Garbage, and Speed- my favorite card game.

"Where is Snape?" I asked, glancing around for said dark elf. "I'll hunt him down wherever he is. I have his gift." Most of the troupe members looked surprised I had gotten him a gift.

"What about...the Master of the Tower?" Tyrell asked, nervously glancing at Raistlin.

I smirked. "His present has a price…so will Dalamar's unless I see something beforehand."

Sure, it was blackmail, but it wasn't that bad. I had nearly killed myself to get their presents. All I wanted in return was a reaction, a simple facial expression. Apparently for Black Robes, that seemed to be on the impossible list unless it only applied to surly dark elves and the reclusive Majere.

Dalamar found his way to me easily; no one got in his way, no one dared. Luckily, he wasn't wearing his cowl. I handed his present to him with a mischievous smile, observing avidly. Like Sebastius, he gave me a super suspicious glance before slowly pulling the bow. The ribbon fell to the ground.

He picked up the scroll, dropping the box. Opening the scroll with elven disdain, the disdain disappeared when his brown eyes caught the title. I smiled as I saw his utterly blown away expression.

"Is this…" he demanded, glaring at me, not believing it was the real recipe.

"Where do you think I disappeared for two days?" I asked, crossing my arms and arching my eyebrows.

"B-but," he stammered, stunned. "That's impossible."

"Then tell me what is in your hand," I smirked and began playing 'It's You' from Kim Possible.

"You can do the things that can't be done (Kim Possible). You can win the fights that can't be won. When you're on a mission, you see it through 'cause it's a save the world thing that you do. And that's the way it has to be and it just comes so naturally. It's you, doing the impossible; it's you, you're practically unstoppable; it's you, totally untoppable. It's you, it's you, it's you."

Dalamar took a deep breath, massage the bridge of his nose near his eyes. I saw a slight, ironic smile before he forced his face to become emotionless. "Thank you," he said hoarsely, vanishing from the room.

I gave Raistlin an impish 'it's your turn' smile. The answer was a 'hell no' glare.

I shrugged and downed a large glass of water. After sleeping, I was insatiably hungry and thirsty. Since it didn't look like Raistlin was going to desire his present any time soon, I practiced walking…while hanging mistletoe above doorways and archways, cackling quietly to myself.

It was special mistletoe. It had been jinxed to trap two people of the opposite sex under it until their lips contacted in some manner, shape, or form. To prevent wizards trapped in it from escaping, there was a shield around the mistletoe that protected it from attacks outside and inside the two-foot cone shield that would surround the victims. To encourage kissing, the mistletoe played lewd and suggestive songs- songs such as 'Kiss the Girl' from the Little Mermaid, 'Bad Boy' by Cascada, 'Dirty Little Secret' by the All-American Rejects, and more. The day after Yule, the enchantment would wear off.

During my 'walk', I enchanted objects to play Christmas music from my iPod.

After the 'walk', to test if the enchantments worked, I played the first minute of 'Welcome to Duloc' from Shrek. The fruit of my success were several laughs and a few cries of dismay from those trapped beneath mistletoe. To avoid becoming a victim of the mistletoe, I made a point to stay in one room.

Troupe members began developing defenses against the mistletoe. One through a doorway at a time, but occasionally, a forgetful pair were caught.

The most memorable trapping under the mistletoe was Snape and Brienda. As the mistletoe played 'Breathless' by the Corrs, Dalamar was trying to teleport out but the mistletoe wouldn't allow it while Brienda was blushing brilliant red and banging on the shield. Finally, Severus roughly grabbed Brienda and kissed her before rushing from under the mistletoe.

Of course, after that, Dalamar made me give him one and he left. I knew he had gone off to his lover, Mistress Jenna. It was evening, after dinner, and a calm Yule party was going on. Being a nerd on Earth, and a plain freak on Krynn, I naturally stayed on the outskirts of the party. I sat on a couch, near the fire, minding my own business when...

I spotted Raistlin, probably still mad at me, coming at me from eleven o'clock (meaning twelve is in front you, eleven is to the left; one is the right).

"Oh boy."

AN: How is this for a Christmas present, huh? Obviously, I don't own any of the music in this chapter, iPod, etc., etc. Remember: beware of lurking mistletoe.

Arigatou gozaimasu: thank you (polite)

Arigatou: thank you (casual)

Mejin: master