- The Faerie -

Everything was dark and cold and silent. He was standing on the shore of the lake, his gaze wandering across the water, which was shimmering with the glow of a thousand diamonds. The beauty that was spread out in front of him could not hide the fact that there was something beneath the surface. He knew it was something important, even though he could not see it clearly.

A cold wind arose from out of nowhere, making him shiver. Soft waves were rolling toward him, swirling around his feet, but he remained where he was. He did not know why, but something told him that he had to go into the water. The wind strengthened and the waves got bigger. He turned his head and narrowed his eyes. Suddenly there was a whisper in the air, strange voices that seemed to try to tell him something he could not understand. The voices were too distant; coming and going, just like the waves were coming and going.

Slowly he took a few steps into the ice-cold water, carefully placing one foot in front of the other. As soon as the cold water was surrounding his knees, he stopped, took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to focus on the voices. He could feel the water streaming around his legs, pulling his trousers, as if the waves were trying to pull him deeper into the water. He was not afraid. Somehow he knew that he was safe.

The current grew stronger and he had to work hard to keep the balance. The water had risen, so that it was now almost waist-high. He opened his eyes and held his breath. Suddenly the water in front of him was totally calm, making the surface almost like a mirror. But it was not his own reflection he saw, it was the face of a boy with curly brown hair. The sight touched something inside him, sending a strange warmth through his body. As quickly as it had appeared, the face was gone, replaced by the face of a girl with black hair and green eyes. Looking at her almost hurt physically. He did not know why, but he wanted to touch her so badly it made his heart ache with yearning.

Something told him that he should know the faces, but no matter how hard he tried, he just could not remember. The murmuring of the voices had stopped. There was just one left and he knew that it was the voice of the girl whose face he saw in the water in front of him. It was unbelievably soft and so quiet that he barely could hear it.

Mark.

Someone was calling his name. He knew it was his name, although it seemed to belong to an other life. Someone knew his name and was looking for him. He felt his heartbeat quicken and tried to step back, but he could not move. His feet seemed to be stuck in the mud, making it impossible to return to the shore.

Mark.

The tone of the voice was pleading, longing.

Mark. Come home.

Panic spread through his body. With all his strength he tried to break free. He wanted to go wherever the voice was coming from, but the mud did not let go of him. The winds grew stronger, making the waves higher and more powerful. His heart was pounding heavily inside his chest as he bent forward, reached his hands into the water and dragged his left leg out of the mud. Waves were breaking at his body, hitting his face, making him swallow the icy water. But he did not care. All he wanted was to be where the voice was. His clothes were soaking wet, drawing him under water, as if the lake wanted to keep him. He was panting heavily, now almost fighting to free himself from whatever was holding him.

Again, he heard his name and whispered breathlessly, "I'm coming. Wait for me. Please. Wait for me …"

Mark. Come home. Mark.

"Here. I am here. I can hear you. Wait for me. I'll -"

The air was burning in his lungs, his body was shaking from the cold and his hands and fingers were numb. He let go of his legs and straightened up, desperately gasping for air. The water had almost reached his chest. Hectically he turned his head to find the girl's face in the water again, but it was gone. There was only water around him - dark, deep and threatening. How could he ever have felt safe here? Why had he left the shore? He would never be able to make it back - he would drown - right here, right now.

All of a sudden he felt weak and full of despair. It was as if all his strength, all the air in his lungs, had been pressed out of his body. The intuition hit him with full force.

He would never make it back home. He would never manage to reach the voice or to see the face of the girl again.

As if to confirm his thoughts, the water around him got quiet, giving him some space to breathe again. He dropped his hands and narrowed his eyes, when a shape appeared in the water. For a moment he hoped it could be the face of the girl again, but this time there were only two eyes staring at him from out of the depths of the water. Two eyes; one black, the other one pale blue; gazing at him in a way that that sent chills down his spine, making him feel even colder.

He knew what the eyes wanted to tell him.

You will never go back. You are one of us now. There is no one left you can go back to. We are all you have left.

Mark laid his head back and sighed deeply. He did barely notice the water rising again, or the waves whirling around his body. When the waves finally came washing over him, he felt relieved. One last time he turned his head and the last thing he saw was a tree with a cross and thorns carved into its bark, before the dark water swallowed him completely.

Startled Mark rose up from his sleep, still gasping for air, his heart pounding heavily, his hands sweaty. The dream had been so sincere - so frightening, that for some seconds he could still feel the icy water around him. Quickly he let his gaze wander across the other hunters, but none of them had seemed to notice him. He leaned his back against the rock behind him and tried to sort out his thoughts. It was not the first time he had dreamed of the girl with the black hair, but never before had it felt so intense. He did not know what the dream meant, but he knew the sign he had found on the tree was important. Although Kieran had told him that nobody was looking for him, Mark was still not willing to accept that. The sign could be the proof that his family still cared about him. All he knew was that he had to find out what the cross and the thorns really were about. As soon as possible he would return to the lake and examine the sign more closely.

- Los Angeles -

Never before had Amelia been in Ty's room. There had been no need and Ty did not like other people in his room, except for Livia. When Mark had went into Ty's room to take the bees out, Ty had been hiding in his wardrobe, Ty had almost freaked out.

Amelia took a deep breath, lifted her hand and knocked carefully. Almost instantly, Ty opened the door a crack and examined his visitor. "What do you want?"

As always, he did not waste any time on courtesy.

Amelia shrugged her shoulders. "I wanted to thank you for helping us."

"Okay. So?" Ty looked at her as if he was waiting for something and she said reluctantly, "Ummm, well. Thanks, I guess."

He nodded and wanted to close the door, but Amelia placed her hand on the wood. "Wait."

Ty paused and she asked, "Can I come in?"

"Why?" His voice sounded alarmed and for a split second, Amelia was wondering what animals Ty was hiding in his room this time. She raised her eyebrows and said, "Because I want to talk to you. And we should probably not be talking here - where everyone can hear us."

Ty hesitated for a moment, before he opened the door completely. Amelia stepped into his room, which was unbelievably tidy. Everything he owned seemed to be at its place, every book, every sheet of paper was sorted. On the walls there were pictures of animals, mostly bees. Amelia smiled. "You really like bees, don't you?"

"I suppose you did not come here to talk about bees." Ty went to his bed and sat down. "So what is it that you want to talk about?"

Amelia cleared her throat. "Your note. You found out something, none of us had thought about."

"That's why I wrote it." Ty sounded annoyed. He looked at her and she said, "We can't look for battles, that's just not possible." Amelia crossed her arms in front of her chest. "So I wanted to ask you if there's anything else you have found. Anything that could help us?"

Ty frowned. "What do you mean?"

Amelia sighed and sat down on the chair in front of Ty's desk. "I don't know." She lifted her hand and rubbed her eyes. "Look - we need something else. Something we can work with. But we don't know what it is. That's why we need you." She looked at Ty again. "We need your help, Ty. I'm asking you to help me."

He examined her very seriously, before he nodded. "I have to think about it. But I will let you know as soon as I have found something."

Amelia was relieved. "Thank you, Ty. That really means a lot to me."

"I am not doing it for you," he quickly said. "I am doing it for Mark. Because he is my brother. And because Livia cries whenever she thinks of him. I want her to be happy again."

Amelia stared at him. Could it be possible that Ty did not care about Mark, but only about Livia?

As if Ty was able to read her mind, he added, "And I want him to be back, too. He belongs to his family. He belongs to us."

Amelia nodded slowly. She had known Ty for three years now and yet there was so much she did not understand about him; and she probably never would. She stood up and said, "Okay. I need to go now. Thanks again, Ty."

He had already taken the book, which had been lying beside him on the bed, and was absorbed in thought. The talk was obviously over. Amelia turned around and left his room.

She had only walked some steps when she almost ran into her father. Gideon Cross looked down at his daughter and said, "Watch your step, young Lady."

Amelia smiled crookedly. "Sorry Dad, I was just -" She fell silent and shrugged her shoulders.

"- lost in your thoughts?" Gideon finished Amelia's sentence and she nodded. "Yeah. Kind of."

Gideon examined her closely. "Are you okay, Amy?"

Amelia held her breath for a second, before she said, "Sure. I'm fine. Why are you asking?"

"I don't know. In the last weeks you've seemed to be - different. You look pale and tired and that makes me worry if everything is okay with you." Gideon reached out his arm and placed his hand on Amelia's shoulder, squeezing her gently. "I know that I'm busy right now, rebuilding everything here. But I guarantee you that I will always find time for you, when there is something that's bothering you. I hope you know that."

Amelia swallowed. She knew her father was worried because he loved her and for a moment she wanted nothing more than to tell him that she was spending many nights in Faerie, looking for Mark. She wanted to tell him that she was afraid she might have lost the boy she loved more than anything else, forever to a world, she was not able to follow him to.

But she could not.

Amelia knew that Gideon would have stopped her if he knew about her trips to Faerie. Even if he would understand that she was doing it because she loved Mark and wanted to bring him back home, he would not want his daughter to do such a dangerous thing. He would try to convince her that there were other ways, just as Grayson had tried. And that was the last thing Amelia wanted, even if it meant that she had to lie to her parents again.

She tried to smile and said, "It's nothing, Dad. Really. It's just -" She got serious again. "Being here reminds me of what happened here. It's hard to train without Katerina or Helen and Mark. I just miss them."

Gideon grimaced, pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around his daughter. Amelia leaned into his embrace, closed her eyes and allowed herself for a second to think everything was alright. In Gideon's arms she felt safe and protected, like nothing in the world could ever harm her - it had always been this way. It had been Gideon who had carried her to the Silent Brothers in his arms after she got burned. Amelia remembered the pain as if it had happened only yesterday. She had cried like never before in her life, believing this awful burning pain would never go away again. She had not wanted to be touched, especially not by the Silent Brothers, who scared her even more. She had been crying out loud every time someone came near her. But then Gideon had taken her carefully into his arms. Somehow he had managed to hold her without causing her more pain, kissing her forehead carefully and telling her that everything would be fine again and that the pain would soon be over. And in that moment Amelia had believed him. Why would her father lie to her?

But now things were different. She was not the little girl anymore. Now she knew that there were things her father could not change and that not everything could be fixed with a kiss on the forehead. But still Gideon's embrace felt soothing and consoling and Amelia wished she would be able to stay in his arms a little bit longer. She wished she were still five years old and had nothing to worry about, but that was not possible.

Amelia took a deep breath, lifted her head and looked into her father's face. "Thanks, Dad. I'm okay. I just need a little time."

Gideon sighed deeply and said, "Okay. If you feel the need to talk, you can talk to me or to your mother."

Amelia nodded and kissed him on the cheek, before she turned around and walked away, still feeling Gideon's gaze behind her. Knowing her father was still watching her, she tried to walk confidently, even though her legs felt weak. Although she wanted to run away as quickly as she could, she forced herself to walk as slowly as possible, so that Gideon would not become even more suspicious than he already was.

She hated lying to her parents. It made her feel bad and guilty, but she knew that there was no other way. She would explain everything to them when this nightmare was over.

If it ever would be over.

Amelia went around a corner and almost ran into Grayson. Instantly she knew something was wrong. She knew her brother very well and could tell what was going on in his mind just by looking at him. And now his face was pale and worried - almost afraid. Amelia knew that something must have happened.

Luckily Dad hasn't seen Grayson, Amelia thought. He would've sent us both to a psychiatrist.

Grayson looked at his sister, sighed and whispered, "We need to talk. Looks like we're in trouble."

His words and the serious tone of his voice made Amelia's blood run cold. She knew that he was not joking around. She frowned and followed Grayson without saying a word, not sure, if she really wanted to hear what he had to say.