67

Hershel started awake, and his heart sank. He was still in his tent…still in Phos's old chair. It was dark now, with a fire crackling in the fireplace. Syn must have lit it, he realized, and he felt a wave of despair as he realized that the tea hadn't worked after all. Hershel sighed heavily and pushed himself up.

"It's about time."

Hershel froze at the voice. His heart started pounding and after a moment he turned with hesitation.

Phos was standing in his usual place by the worn table, regarding Hershel with a patronizing expression. As their eyes met the Ancient Healer raised an eyebrow.

"After everything I taught you, I would have expected…"

Whatever Phos was going to say was cut off as Hershel reached him quickly. The younger healer didn't hesitate as he threw his arms around his old Master and embraced him fiercely.

Phos stiffened for a moment before sagging in what seemed to be relief. He sighed as he hugged Hershel back. After a few moments, it was clear that the younger oni was crying and Phos cleared his throat as he pulled back.

"Hershel…you're a grown man!" he chided, and Hershel looked away sheepishly as he wiped at his eyes.

"I…It's just…"

He finally glanced up to give Phos a watery smile.

"I missed you, Phos."

The Healer's attempt at a stern expression melted and he scratched his chin to try to cover his own emotions.

"Well. I'm just glad to see that you weren't avoiding me…"

"Avoiding you? You didn't even tell me this was possible!" Hershel countered.

"I expected you to find the chest!" Phos said, unapologetically. "After all…"

He trailed off and Hershel realized that his master was looking at the braided tattoo on the younger man's upper arm. The once-apprentice followed his gaze and then rubbed the tattoo self-consciously.

"Not really sure you made the best recommendation, Phos."

"Nonsense."

Hershel glanced up as Phos scratched his chin, and the younger Oni couldn't help but smile at the familiar gesture as the Ancient continued.

"You were the only choice, really. Surely after you read those scrolls you know why."

"But I don't know anything, Phos! Some parasite was wreaking havoc for who knows how long and I had no idea what it was or what to do. The others at least know what's going on with the realm, even if they are…"

He trailed off, not really sure how to describe Pazzol's plot to murder him in a single word. Phos scoffed as he walked past Hershel to the kettle over the fire.

"Which is why I meant for you to come see me on a regular basis, Hershel. There is still much I can teach you. Other than that, experience is truly the greatest teacher."

Hershel watched as Phos poured himself a cup of tea and he couldn't help but wonder what kind of place this was. Was the tea real? Was Phos even real?

"Well…now I know what it feels like to be sucked dry by an invisible parasite," Hershel finally muttered dryly, and Phos glanced up.

"Indeed."

The Ancient handed his previous apprentice a cup of tea and Hershel frowned as he accepted it.

"Is it really you, Phos? I mean…how is this even possible?"

"There are many mysteries of the world that not even I can explain. But it was discovered even before my time that flowers from the tomb of Echo and Antirock contain special properties."

"Tomb? Wait…"

Hershel made the connection and sank back into his chair.

"You didn't tell me that's what it was," he finally said. "I brought Tolan."

"Who?"

"You know, Syn's husband. You met him. Well, Phos met him on the Island…if that really was you. If you really are Phos."

"Stop it, boy. It's me."

Hershel smiled; it sounded like him.

"Still as patronizing as ever…but I'm not a young boy anymore, Phos. Syn and I grew up. She has a kid now, for Ancient's sake…"

Phos's eyes became misty.

"Yes…she told me about her daughter. Claims the child wants to be your apprentice."

Hershel glanced away.

"Well…she's only six. I don't really want to decide anything right away."

"I believe that's wise."

Hershel looked back up at Phos.

"Really?"

"It's not a decision to be rushed, nor is it one to trust with a mere child."

"I wasn't that much older when you chose me."

Phos sipped his tea again, his gaze becoming distant.

"You were certainly older than six, and you've always been mature for your age, at any rate. This 'Pippa' sounds like a bit of a fireball…"

Hershel laughed.

"Oh, she is. You should have seen her when she unlocked her powers; she was constantly lighting things on fire. And she rides around on Sniffers; I don't think that kid has a fear in the world."

"Mmm…"

They drank the rest of their tea lost in their own thoughts.

"How… are you, Phos?"

The Ancient glanced over.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, is everything alright in the departed realm now? I'm not aware of everything that occurred on the Island, but from what I heard…"

"Things are never not right in the departed realm," Phos interrupted, gazing down at his tea.

"What do you mean? What's it like there?"

Phos just scoffed.

"It's not something that can be explained, Hershel. When you die, you shall find out."

Hershel leaned back with disappointment.

"Here I am, granted this chance to talk with someone who's actually been there and I'm still not allowed to know."

"That's because those of us with the capacity to understand both the living and departed realms know that the knowledge is not to be spread. Perhaps that is why mere mortals cannot be reached after they move on, even by means such as this tea. Their minds were not created to comprehend both worlds; it would drive them mad."

Hershel had finished his tea, and he stared at his empty cup as something dawned on him.

"Phos?"

Phos looked over and frowned at Hershel's nauseous expression.

"Theodynn…Cole and Keyda's son. He died, didn't he?"

Phos was silent for a moment, but he finally sighed and set his cup down.

"Yes."

"But you brought him back."

"I wasn't sure at the time if he had truly passed on…if he had experienced passing through the fog of death. If I had known, I wouldn't have gotten involved."

Hershel didn't say anything and Phos rubbed his neck as he sighed.

"The boy isn't doing well…is he?"

"He wasn't. Syn said that he wouldn't look at anybody, and that he kept getting really distant. Rambled about bells and fog and people that had passed on before his time."

Phos nodded as if he expected as much.

"I should have left it for what it was. There are things that can't be helped…"

"But, Phos…Tolan says he's fine now."

The Healer shook his head.

"The boy died and returned; he certainly isn't fine."

"I still have to go see him myself. But…is it possible for it to have gotten fixed? I mean, I was going to ask you how I could fix him before Tolan said he was ok."

"Fix?"

Phos's tone was skeptical, but he did seem to be considering it. He finally shook his head.

"The memories of the departed realm would continue to press their way into his mind, forcing him to try to reconcile both worlds within himself. He would suffer drastic consequences from that…unless…"

"Unless what?" Hershel prompted. Phos's expression became unreadable.

"Unless his memories of death were erased altogether."

Hershel blanched at that.

"I…I can't do that, Phos. Syn even asked me to try and get into his mind, but I can't…"

"If he truly is doing better now, it may have already been done."

Phos met Hershel's eye now, and the younger Oni leaned forward in his chair.

"By who?"

"The young Xinta. Only person it could be."

Hershel blinked in surprise.

"Amber? You think that Amber messed with Theo's memories? She's not even twelve yet!"

"Do not underestimate her, Hershel. I returned to the departed realm to find that she actually did defeat Evynn…single handedly."

That fact sank in and Hershel pushed himself up to standing position.

"Amber beat the Alchemist?"

"She took her by surprise, which undoubtedly made the difference. But the fact of the matter is that she was able to defeat her…which is no small feat. Erasing her brother's memories would be easy for someone with that kind of power."

Hershel felt sick.

"But that just seems…dark for her. She isn't that kind of person. She's Cole and Keyda's daughter, for Ancient's sake."

"Doesn't mean anything; one important lesson for you now, Hershel; any kind of person can come from any kind of background. Never assume you know someone just because you know where they come from. As for erasing the memories…it may be that she did so to save her brother from his path to madness. But that kind of power should not be taken lightly; you'll need to keep an eye on the Xinta, Hershel. In fact, if it were me…"

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Hershel interrupted, mainly because he wasn't sure he wanted to know what Phos was going to recommend. "I'll go see Theo once I wake up. Speaking of…"

Hershel glanced around the dream tent.

"When exactly do I wake up?"

"Tired of me already?" Phos asked dryly, and Hershel couldn't help but smile a little as he shook his head.

"No, of course not. I just don't really know how all of this works."

"You drink the tea, and I'm summoned here; a place made of our joint subconscious experiences," Phos answered, glancing around. "And apparently our minds have come to a consensus on where we would like to meet."

Hershel nodded.

"This tent isn't the same without you. I mean…I guess it's better now with Pip and Syn and Tolan coming in and out. But at first…"

Hershel sighed and shrugged.

"I could barely stand to be in the tent."

Phos was silent and Hershel finally glanced up at him.

"You spent so many years alone, Phos, keeping the history and visiting villages. Did you ever feel…I mean, did you ever get lonely?"

The Ancient didn't answer as he scanned Hershel's face, his own expression unreadable. Hershel finally laughed awkwardly.

"I guess that's a stupid question, huh? Healer's aren't meant…"

"I want to make something clear, Hershel."

Phos's voice was serious and his old apprentice silenced and then nodded for the Ancient to continue.

"There is much for me to teach you…but I never intended for you to become like me. Do you understand?"

Hershel's eyes widened a little.

"What do you mean?"

"I made far too many mistakes, Hershel…mistakes you never need to make. You're going to keep coming here, and I'm going to keep teaching you. But I want you to be better than I was."

Hershel swallowed and glanced away.

"Hershel."

He glanced back as Phos leaned forward.

"Do you understand?"

Hershel managed to give him a tentative smile.

"I…I can try."

68

Amber looked in the mirror and smoothed her uniform one last time. She still wasn't sure how they had managed to make it come clean, but here it was. She heard a knock at the door and turned, expecting her father to say that it was time to go. Instead, it was Theo who smiled softly at her.

"Looking good, Ams," he commented, and she smiled a little as she came over.

"I still don't think they'll let me back in, Tay," she said softly, tugging at the edge of her green vest. "But I'm glad I don't look quite as haggard. At least I won't look like trash while they treat me like it, right?"

His smile faded.

"Maybe you shouldn't go back, if they're going to treat you badly. They never deserved you, Amber. I hope that whole stupid school rots…"

"The school's fine, Theo. It's the jerks running it who need a talking to."

"I'd be happy to give them a talking to."

Theo's eyes flashed and Amber shook her head. She was annoyed at her brother's protectiveness, but then she felt another rush of gratitude that he could be protective. Ever since she had erased the memories, her brother had more or less gone back to his normal self. She glanced down at his riding boots.

"Traveling?" she asked, gesturing at the footwear, and Theodynn glanced down.

"Yeah. Dragon's being acting all hurt and betrayed lately; you don't take your hoofer out for rides for a few weeks and suddenly they get all sensitive."

Amber slugged him.

"Forgetting him at that run-down hamlet by the sea probably didn't help," she pointed out, and Theo rubbed his neck sheepishly.

"I still feel bad that I forgot. Luckily Tolan didn't."

"Did he ever find katanas he liked?"

Theo shrugged.

"He found some that will be good enough, once he's allowed to tweak them or something. I'm sure he'll be fine."

Silence fell and Amber shifted awkwardly.

"Dad'll be here soon," she pointed out, and Theo sighed.

"Don't go, Ams…I was finally getting used to having you around all the time again."

Amber's eyes filled with tears at his genuine tone, but then Theo glanced up and seemed to think better of his statement.

"But…I guess someone has to keep those Openheimer's in line. Especially Marty the fifth…now there's a troublemaker!"

"M's fine!" Amber defended. "He's the least annoying of the Openheimers, you know."

"Mmm….that makes it sound like he's still a little annoying," Theo pointed out with a wink. She slugged him again.

"Doesn't matter, at any rate. I don't think they're going to let me back in, and I don't know that M. would even talk to me when I get back. You saw how angry he was that I was even leaving."

Theo just gave her a little smile as he tugged at one of her horns.

"He'll come around, Ams. You'll see."

"How do you know?"

"Because you're amazing! And he'd be crazy to not want to still be around you."

She didn't know what to say, so after a moment she just hugged Theo tightly. He seemed surprised but then he hugged her back.

"I'm sorry for pulling you away from school in the first place, Amber. I'm sorry for everything that you had to…"

"Stop apologizing. I mean it! I came because I wanted to, and nothing that happened was your fault. In fact, without you…without you we would have all been in trouble, Tay."

He didn't say anything and their embrace lingered on until Theo finally pulled away.

"They've got to let you back in, Amber. You're the most talented dancer there, hands down."

"Well…I guess we'll see," she mused with a small smile. He gave her horn one last tug with a wink.

"I gotta go, Mom's waiting for me. See you tonight after you and Dad get back."

"See you."

Theo turned and left the room and Amber sighed. It was strange to think about school. Part of her really was worried she wouldn't be allowed back…but after everything else that had happened, being worried about what people at a dance school thought or allowed seemed so superficial. She had almost lost her family…she had almost lost Theo. Heck, she had nearly had her own life taken over by a centuries-old witch! Why should the thought of the Openheimer's strike any sort of fear or anxiety in her?

And yet it did. Her father had come to her the day before, adamant that they needed to go talk with the Openheimers. But what was more…he was insisting on doing the talking. That alone was enough to make Amber's stomach flip. Her grandfather was the one who had the relationship with Marty III…wouldn't it be better to let Grandpa Lou handle it? But her father seemed serious about it and Amber decided that maybe it would be a good thing after all. The Openheimers weren't likely to let her in regardless, and she at least hoped that this meeting could get them to stop thinking of her father as some coward or pushover.

"Hey, Ams…you ready?"

She jumped a little; she had been so lost in thought that she hadn't realized that her father had come to her door. She glanced over and was surprised to see that he was all dressed up. His suit looked pressed and cleaned, and his hair was brushed back out of his face. He took in her expression and seemed sheepish.

"Just…felt like maybe I better clean up a little. Something tells me Marty IV wouldn't appreciate Au de Dragon…"

"Probably not," she admitted with a smile. "But…Marty IV? Wouldn't it be easier to talk with Marty III?"

Cole shook his head, his expression determined.

"Marty IV is the headmaster of the school, Amber. If we want you back in the school, we need to go straight to the source. He's hardly going to appreciate it if we try to go over his head."

Amber just bit her lip. She wanted to point out that of the two Marty's, the current headmaster seemed to dislike her most of all. But her father seemed determined and she finally sighed.

"Alright. Do we have an appointment?"

Her father's expression became a little mischievous and Amber shook her head.

"Do we not have an appointment?"

"Mmmm…sometimes these things go better when the target doesn't have any previous warning…"

"Target?"

"Err, headmaster. Sorry, this really isn't my forte."

Amber couldn't help but laugh and Cole grinned at her.

"Ready?" he asked again, and she gave one last glance at the mirror.

"Ready."

M. splashed his face and shuddered at the cold water. He had a hard time waking up lately…mainly he had a hard time scraping the motivation together to get out of bed. He dried his face and glared at himself in the mirror.

"Now, there's a look."

He glanced over to see Frankie raising an eyebrow at him. His old roommate was one of the many trying to get ready in the communal dorm bathrooms.

"What's wrong, Openheimer? Your Daddy didn't give you a private bathroom to go with your nice private room?"

"Shut up, Frankie…" he muttered, looking away. He had never been on super great terms with his ex-roommate, who had always seemed jealous of him for whatever crazy reason.

"Yeah Frankie!" another boy chimed in, a wiry fellow named George. "Leave M. alone…he misses his girlfriend!

M. shot the guy a murderous look, but other than that he didn't say anything as he grabbed his towel and toothbrush and headed for the exit. He could hear them laughing behind him, and he shook his head angrily. During the first week he had snapped at comments like that, yelling and ranting. By the second week he had ignored everyone, expecting that the other students would finally get bored and go find something else to poke at or obsess over. But he was starting to have a horrible sinking feeling that this is what it would always be like. He couldn't help but miss his life a year ago. He had a quartet he was close with, classes he could float through without a lot of effort, and weekly or monthly contact with his father at best. Now his freedom was slipping away faster than he knew how to stop it. To be fair, this was the lifestyle that was always coming for him; it was only a matter of time before his father started grooming him to become Marty Openheimer V, with all the responsibilities chained to the name.

He made it back to his room and sighed. It was a small room that was near his father's quarters. M had a sneaking suspicion that this was always meant to be his room; it was already furnished. His father had moved him within days of his "episode", which is what his father had taken to calling the time he had run off to Lou's. M put away the towel and toothbrush and steeled himself for breakfast. He was expected to eat every meal with his father now, and he was also expected to be pleasant and chipper during all of them. Acting sullen and sulky just earned him extra practices…but lately his half-acted façade was chipping away and it was all he could do to look his father in the eye.

M made it to his father's office quickly…it wasn't hard with it just down the hall. After a deep breath he knocked twice.

"Come on in, M."

He pushed the door open and headed for the desk, where his breakfast sat waiting on one side. His father sat on the other, one hand firmly planted on a computer mouse as he scanned a laptop screen while the other hand used a fork to poke blindly at the scrambled eggs and sausage on his plate.

"Go ahead and get started, son…I just have to finish something up here."

M didn't even answer, but his father didn't seem to notice as he cursed softly and clicked on another link.

"Now where did it go? He told me that it was all under this address, but it's gone and disappeared…" he murmured under his breath. M. stared at his plate and tried to muster up the energy to eat. It wasn't that he wasn't hungry…he just found that he hated doing anything his father asked lately.

Time passed and M had reluctantly started to eat the bacon when his father finally closed the laptop and looked over at him.

"That's one thing sorted for the day, at least," his father said good-naturedly, but his smile faded when he got a good look at his son.

"M."

The boy tried not to wince as he glanced up.

"Did you not brush your hair this morning?"

A hand went to his sandy locks, and M. realized with a start that he hadn't. And what was more, he hadn't even realized he hadn't.

Marty IV sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair, studying M like he was some puzzle that was proving hard to solve.

"What am I going to do with you, M?"

The young teen's hands formed fists under the desk, but he didn't answer as he stared down at the eggs and bacon still left on his plate.

"You aren't even trying! We had a deal...you get your act together, eat with me, work hard in your classes, and I'd lift the grounding. But here you are, not trying. You've hardly eaten anything and you apparently can't even be bothered to brush your hair in the morning!"

"It's not a deal, Dad."

M. still didn't look up as he finally spoke.

"It's a punishment. All of it. You want me to be happy to be punished in one way and you'll stop punishing me in another. That's not a deal, that's a threat!"

"Marty Openheimer, we have talked about this!"

"Have we?"

M. finally looked up to glare, and Marty IV narrowed his eyes as his son continued.

"Because it feels more like what you've been doing my whole life: talking at me, and then getting angry if I don't comply with exactly what you want me to do!"

"Stop it! It's not a punishment, M. It's your future…and it's approaching fast. Maybe most fourteen-year-olds don't have to be this dedicated this soon…but you're an Openheimer and it's time you started acting like one!"

"Maybe I don't want to be an Openheimer!"

"That's enough!"

His father had stood now, glaring down at him. They had a fight like this every couple of days. M. tried to decide if it was even worth the effort to keep fighting today; it always ended the same, no matter how hard he tried to convince his father.

"Go to your room, brush your hair, and stay there until it's time for your first class. And M…I will be checking to make sure you're in class!"

"Why check? I haven't missed a single class in three weeks. You afraid I'm finally going to get sick of your dictatorship and leave?" M. muttered, and a vein bulged in his father's neck.

"You've just earned yourself an extra two hours of practice, tonight, M. Keep it up and it'll be three."

M. glared at the floor as he pushed himself up and turned to go. Marty IV clenched his jaw as the door of his office slammed shut. For a moment he seethed with anger, but then he sighed and sank into his chair.

"What am I going to do with that boy?" he muttered to the empty office.

69

The Marty Openheimer School of Performing Arts loomed in front of them, and for the first time Amber could see why her father had been a little intimidated all those years ago. Sure, she was nervous her first day, but in a thrilled kind of way. Now it just felt like her stomach was tying itself in knots. She glanced up at her father. His expression was neutral, but she knew he was nervous too.

"So what's the battle plan?" she teased softly, and Cole looked down to smile.

"Man, I wish it was a real battle. There aren't any rules in battles…you just try to punch as many people in the face as possible. But this sort of thing feels like something that does have rules, and not punching is probably one of them."

"Yeah."

Cole took a deep breath and started heading towards the door.

"I guess we just…do it," he said, but Amber grabbed his arm. He looked down in surprise.

"You don't have to do this, Dad. I mean…I know how this place makes you feel."

"Hey, this isn't about me," Cole argued. "This is about you dancing because you deserve to dance! And I'm not letting any stuffy headmaster get in the way of that."

He seemed more confident after that, and when he gently pulled out of Amber's grasp she let him.

The school hadn't changed much, but then again it had only been a few weeks. Amber swallowed as she glanced around; she was pretty sure the few people walking around in the halls were staring at them. Cole froze in the school's lobby and took a deep breath. He looked over and gave his daughter a tight smile.

"Alright….where's his office? I'm thinking we hurry before someone…"

"Can I help you?"

They both jumped as a man in a uniform approached them. Amber gave the man a nervous smile and wave.

"Hello, Gerald."

"Miss Amber. I wasn't aware that you were coming back."

"That's actually what my Dad and I are here about."

Amber nudged her father and he jumped again and then nodded.

"Right. I…was supposed to speak with Marty IV."

Gerald raised an eyebrow, but Cole straightened and looked him in the eye. After a few moments Gerald glanced away and gestured with one hand and Amber smiled. Her father wasn't super good at talking under pressure…but after all his time in the Oni realm, he had gotten good at intimidating eye contact.

"I wasn't aware that the Headmaster had an appointment, but then again I did hear that he cleared his afternoon. Follow me."

They did, and it wasn't long before they were headed down the long hallway that housed the Openheimer offices. Amber had only been in Marty III's before…and it wasn't exactly a pleasant conversation. She realized that her heart was pounding and suddenly wondered if it wasn't too late to talk her father out of all of this after all.

"Dad…"

But Gerald had already knocked on the Headmaster's door. Amber wondered what it was about certain doors opening that made people want to sink through the floor and disappear into oblivion.

The door opened, and Amber's mouth ran dry at the Headmaster's irritated expression. His eyes fell on her, and her mind went completely blank. Marty IV didn't say anything…but she could feel his confusion and displeasure.

"Gerald, what is this?" Marty finally asked, his tone cool. The man in the uniform blinked.

"They said they were meeting with you today, sir."

Marty's eyes fell on Cole, and the ninja stretched forward a hand.

"Cole," he introduced. "I'm…I'm Lou's son."

"I'm well aware who you are," Marty IV replied loftily, though he did accept the handshake. Amber wanted to shrink away; what was it about this man that made her so uncomfortable?

"I'm afraid I have no appointments set up for today," the Headmaster was saying. "But I'm sure Gerald would be happy to redirect you to the secretary downstairs. Perhaps she could find you an opening sometimes in the next few months…"

"Please…"

Cole cut in, and Marty raised an unimpressed eyebrow as the ninja rushed on.

"I'm sorry to bombard you like this, but I was wondering if you had even a few minutes to talk with me."

"To discuss what, exactly?"

"To discuss Amber coming back to school here."

Silence fell as the two men regarded each other, and Marty's eyes glanced back down at Amber. She was straight and as stiff as a statue as she tried to figure out what the Headmaster was feeling.

"I do believe my father was clear with Amber on what the repercussions would be if she chose to skip school again. If you'll excuse me."

"But…"

"And given that it was his initial call to bring Amber to the school in the first place, perhaps you would have better luck harassing him…"

The door was closing and Cole threw a desperate hand forward.

"It was my fault!"

Marty glanced up, his icy expression mixing with confusion as he paused. Cole cleared his throat.

"It was my fault Amber missed all that school. And I came to see you for a reason; you are the headmaster, not your father, right? You have the final say on who comes in and out of the school."

The Headmaster was hesitating, and Amber's heart pounded with hope.

"Five minutes," Cole pressed again, and Marty IV finally sighed heavily as he opened his door a little.

"Five minutes," he agreed reluctantly, and Amber could feel Cole's relief mixing with her own. Marty's eyes found her again.

"Amber can wait out here," he continued, and her stomach twisted at the way he said her name. Her father threw her a quick hopeful glance and she returned it, and the next thing she knew the door was closing on the two men. Gerald had been waiting awkwardly on the sidelines, and with the office now occupied he sighed and pointed her towards the chairs lining one wall.

Amber took a seat and stared down at her hands, trying to pick out her Dad's emotions through the door of the office. It was fuzzy…and mainly just anxiety. She sighed and cradled her head. What were they saying? Could her father convince Marty to let her back in? He had gotten in the door at least, but what if it was just so the headmaster could berate her father in private? She wished she could have at least gone in…it kind of felt like she had thrown her father to the Sniffers, so to speak.

"Amber?!"

Her head jerked up at the familiar voice. Sure enough, M. was standing down the hallway a bit, his hand on the doorknob of a room. Amber felt color rise up her face as he released the knob and headed over to her.

"What are you doing here?"

"M…"

She was surprised when a rush of anger came off of the youngest Openheimer.

"You're gone for weeks with no word and then you just show up out of the blue?! Outside my father's office?"

"My Dad's in there talking with him," Amber blurted, and M. glanced over at the closed door.

"Wait."

He shook his head.

"Your Dad's in talking with my Dad? Why?"

"About…" Amber cleared her throat. "About letting me come back to school here, even though I took that time off."

M. whistled low as he continued to look at his father's office.

"You really sure that's the smartest move?" he asked softly, and Amber sagged.

"I told my Dad that it would have been better for our Grandpas to talk. But he insisted…"

M. winced and Amber turned, suddenly suspicious.

"What?"

"What?" he repeated, trying to be nonchalant.

"What was that look? Is there a reason that our grandpas shouldn't speak?"

M. shifted uncomfortably, and finally shrugged angrily.

"You've been gone a while, Amber. Lots of stuff went down without you."

Amber seemed to shrink into herself, her gaze suddenly distant.

"Trust me…a lot of stuff went down with me too."

M. was silent for a moment before realizing.

"Oh, Geez…I forgot that your parents were missing, huh? But I guess if your Dad's here than you and your brother found them…"

"Just had to survive some crazy Haunted Island," Amber muttered bitterly, and M's eyes grew large.

"Really?"

"Don't sound so excited about it!" Amber chastised, looking over at him with flashing eyes. "It was awful."

"Ok, it was awful. Doesn't mean I don't want to hear about it," M. argued defensively. Amber shook her head.

"You were telling me what happened when I was gone."

"Amber…"

"You first. Then maybe I'll tell you. But be warned, your father only promised my Dad five minutes."

M. sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Well…it's basically been the worst since you left."

"the worst how?" Amber asked skeptically.

"The worst like being a prisoner in my father's school!"

"Geez, M…"

"I'm serious, Amber! I have a curfew and I'm not allowed out of the school ever unless I'm with him, and we have to eat all our meals together and I'm in all these advanced classes and half the time it's just me and a tutor. I don't even see other students…let alone hang out with friends. Which I don't have anymore, apparently."

Amber wanted to poke at him a little; sure, it didn't sound appealing, but after what she and Theo had just been through, she wasn't sure how sympathetic she was to his problems. However, she could sense how he felt about it and she realized grudgingly that M. did seem to be suffering.

"Why? Because I left?"

"No. Well…"

"Well what?! Was it because I left or not?!"

"It was because I ran off."

She blinked in surprise, but M refused to meet her eye.

"You ran off? How far?"

"I went to your Grandfather's. I dunno why. I just needed someone to talk to, and I had just had this fight with my Dad and Gramps….and you weren't exactly available for a heart to heart."

Amber let the information sink in.

"So…you went to see my Grandpa Lou?"

He shrugged.

"What did you talk about?" she pressed, and M. exhaled.

"Um….your Dad, actually. Why he ran off and how your Grandpa dealt with it and all that. Everything was just so unfair and I was mad that you weren't coming back and I was mad that you left…"

"I'm sorry I left. But I had to; my parents were missing and some crazy Healer guy had them locked up on this Island…and if Theo and I hadn't shown up who knows what would have happened."

M. finally glanced over at her and scoffed.

"You're one of a kind…you know that Oni-girl? Here I am having Daddy issues and basically doing nothing for the past three weeks and you've gone on some crazy adventure."

"Trust me, I'd rather have been dancing," Amber said darkly. She wasn't really ready to talk about her own experience, so she pressed M. again. "Did you go home after talking with my Grandfather?"

"Dad and Gramps came and got me. And then there was this whole thing. Long story short, I'm basically under house arrest until I die and my family isn't really on the best terms with your Grandpa at the moment. My fault, not his, but still."

Amber swung her legs and finally sighed.

"It may all just be a moot point anyway. Your Grandpa was clear that I couldn't miss any more school, and I left."

"Do you not want to come back?"

M seemed guarded and Amber frowned.

"Of course I want to come back! My dreams haven't changed…I think I just may have gotten in their way one too many times."

They sat in silence a few moments and Amber glanced back up at the door. The five minutes would be up soon, surely.

"I…I did something crazy."

She turned as M. spoke again, and was surprised to sense his guilt.

"What?"

Her tone was more accusatory than she meant and he flushed.

"I wrote to my mom."

She was silent a moment.

"And?"

"And I've never written my mom, Amber. I've had like no contact since she left…when I was seven!"

"Then why write now?"

M. turned to glare at the floor.

"I dunno. I was desperate, I guess. The one thing I learned from my talk with your Grandpa was that I should have a plan, and not just run away. So it got me thinking that my Dad was really forcing me down this path and that wasn't going to ever change…but maybe…maybe I could reach out to her. I dunno…she never got back to me or anything. I guess I just hoped that I could at least have another option. Like if I couldn't strike out on my own there was someone in this crazy realm I could go to. My Dad couldn't really come and snatch me from my own mom either, you know? Not like he snatched me from your Grandfather's house in the middle of the night."

Amber didn't say anything, mainly because she didn't know what to say. M. scoffed and turned to glare at her.

"How do you do that?"

She stiffened.

"Do what?"

"Make me talk to you about stuff like this? I mean, I haven't told a single other person about this…and suddenly you're back for five minutes and I'm baring my soul…"

"I don't make you do anything!"

Her tone was angry and defensive, and M. held his hands up.

"Geez, Amber, it's just an expression. I just meant that it's weird that I felt like telling you…wanted to tell you. Especially after you left me in the lurch for three weeks. I mean…you could have been dead and I would have never known."

"I was fine." Amber said, and M. rolled his eyes.

"Obviously. Now are you going to tell me about everything that happened or not?"

Amber's eyes slid back over to the office door, where she had a feeling her father would be kicked out of soon.

"I probably won't have time," she admitted. "My Dad's gonna come out any second."

"Then tell me something."

Amber glanced back over at his pleading glance.

"M…."

"It's been so boring. Honestly, you have no idea. At least give me a quick overview, huh?"

Amber bit her lip.

"I can tell you a little," she finally admitted, and M. rewarded her with a smirk; it was an expression she didn't realize she had missed until she saw it.