The years passed.  Spring's gentility grew into summer's intensity, followed by autumn's crispness and winter's rage. 

            A crumpled bunch of letters filled and surrounded Will Stanton's wastebasket for that first year.  On each was penned, "Dear Jane", followed by a weak greeting, then a frustrated series of scribbles, the last thing written before Will lost his patience and crushed the paper.  He got the courage to send one, written in red ink and containing a desperate apology. It came back to the Stanton home with a big RETURN TO SENDER stamped on it, and when Will went to add more postage and check the address, he noticed a message scrawled on the back.

            You know better, Old One.

            Will cursed Merriman silently and threw the last letter he would write into the garbage.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *                     

            "Slow down!"  yelled Jane as her brothers flew up the hill ahead of her.  She was struggling to keep up for about a minute before she realized the stupidity of it all and slowed down to her own pace.  As the departing figures of her brothers disappeared over the horizon, Jane sighed and began to take in the scenery around her.  The beautiful view was absolutely breathtaking; the forest was so green, and the pond was so clear—Jane believed she had been given her very own piece of heaven to optically feast on.

            Jane had certainly not lost her romantic side.  She was now an 18-year-old girl, and although she had the acquired adult tendencies, she was charmingly awkward, proof that Jane Drew hadn't changed.  Simon, a strapping boy of 18 (he was only eleven months older than Jane and due for a birthday), had changed from a pompous boy that no one listened to into a pompous older boy that no one listened to.  Barney, at 13 years old, was taller and less energetic than his former childhood self.  But Jane, aside from physical changes, was still Jane.

            Continuing up the hill, Jane stopped when she heard the solid and steady sound of a horn.  It was loud and clear, an auditory beckoning that bade her to come closer.  Gathering her wits about her, Jane walked slowly and suspiciously over rocks and grass to get to the top of the hill. 

            Breathless and exhausted, Jane finally reached the top.  The blower of the horn had his back to her, but she recognized him immediately before he turned around to face her.

            "Hello, Jane Drew," said Will, his heart beating in his ears.  She looked beautiful because she was the same.  Yes, she had grown into a young woman, but her heart and soul—that was the same.  She glowed to Will like a beacon, and he wanted to just hug her so tightly that nothing could get between them.

            Jane's mouth opened, closed, opened, closed, and finally opened again.  "You…" she whispered.  "You're here."  Her brown eyes blinked in incredulous disbelief.  She had not seen Will Stanton for three years.  Three years of checking the mailbox and having letter after letter she wrote be returned by an unknown source that she had assumed to be Will himself.  In three years she had grown up to be a young lady, but it would be a lie to say she never thought of Will Stanton, or that she wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around him right now.   Be angry with him.  Be hateful; be just plain awful to him Jane.  Her bitterness won over and she clenched her teeth together.  "So THAT'S why we're here.  Some sort of battle.  Great.  Wonderful." 

            Her words stung Will.  She's not the least bit happy to see me. "Yes.  The last and hardest battle lies ahead of us."  But in his gut Will knew that the hardest battle wouldn't be between the Light and the Dark.  He turned around and headed towards the bottom of the hill, with Jane behind him, trailing a good ten feet.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            "So let me get this straight," Simon said icily.  "You and this BOY show up out of nowhere, tell us to follow you into parts unknown, and just expect us to say 'Smashing idea, Will, let me get my crossbow'?" 

            "No," replied Bran sharply.  "We don't expect you to do a damn thing.  But the Light does."

            Simon had taken his regular place as spokesperson for the Drew family, and was doing the best he could to state a proper case, one that left him with the upper hand.  It wasn't working.  "We don't even KNOW you, Bran," he snapped back coldly.  "And besides, Jane wouldn't follow Will Stanton to heaven, much less some desolate mountain!"

            Jane gasped with embarrassment and surprise, turning her blushing face away.  "Simon!" 

"Well that's certainly true."  Barney stood next to Simon, a little version of his older brother.

            Will felt an overwhelming sense of shame and hung his head.  "As well she shouldn't," he muttered half to himself, half to Bran.

            Looking confused, Bran glanced back and forth between Jane and Will.  "Did something happen between you two or does Jane just hate boys?"  He laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

            "Never mind that," said Simon with authority.  "Where is Merriman?"

            "We'll meet him eventually," Bran replied with contempt, making his feelings about Simon more than obvious.  He looked at Jane, facing the other way.  "I hope we can leave our little pathetic crushes down here."

            Will saw Jane wince with that remark, and he longed to tackle Bran to the ground and shake him.  "None of that, Bran," he said through clenched teeth.  "Let's just go."

            As they walked up the hill, the Drews kept their distance.  Will randomly kept looking back at them, and saw Jane walk slowly with her head down, while Simon pointed at the scenery and made up names to sound smart.  Barney was boredly listening to his brother and taking in the scenery on his own. 

            "Wake up, Old One!"  Bran cried, waving his hand in front of Will's face.  "What is with you?"

            Will blinked. "Nothing.  Nothing at all."  He continued across the terrain, forcing himself to not look back at the Drews.  "Just remembering what they looked like. It's been three years you know."

            Bran sighed.  "What happened with Jane and you?  And don't you dare tell me that nothing happened, because you and her look at each other like sick dogs."

            "Charming analogy," Will replied.  "And if you must know, Jane and I sort of liked each other in Trewissick, and we wanted to make it something more, but things got in the way."  MERRIMAN got in the way.  The Light got in the way.  Everything that should have happened DIDN'T because the Light and Merriman ruined it.

            Bran nodded right away.  "Understood, Old One.  She is just a girl, after all."

            Will repeated that statement in his head over and over and over.  It didn't make any more sense the thirtieth time than it did the first time.