Wendell stared, disbelieving, at the scene in front of him. The pea lay on the ground where
Melissa had dropped it, glinting in the dull light.
Visibly trembling, Melissa hugged her arms to her chest. "I'm from here? That's not possible.
My parents are from the Ukraine -- I have a birth certificate!" She looked to Terry, her features pleading.
The older woman had covered her face with her hands, and soft sobs shook her. "Terry?" Melissa
whispered. Wendell had a feeling that the real trouble was about to start.
"Did you lie to me Terry?"
"Yes." It was more a sigh than a word.
The quiet was threatening. Wendell put a hand on Melissa's shoulder, but she jerked away.
"Tell me," she demanded.
Teresa wiped her face and looked up. "I don't think here--"
"Here is perfect. Tell me," she ground out. Wendell's heart ached for them both.
Standing, Teresa faced them, her eyes and voice dull as she spoke. "What Inesh says is true. You
are the daughter of Prince Andre and Princess Jelena. The Prince was the son of Prince Byron, who loved
the Little Mermaid. You are his granddaughter, raised in the Tenth Kingdom."
Through his shock and concern, realization settled over Wendell. It did explain her almost
preternatural beauty and stately bearing. Byron's family, all but one believed to be dead he recalled, were
famous for how they looked. *That must be what Teresa wanted to tell me before.* And if Teresa was
from here as well, it explained how the mirror had been turned off, a problem that had subconsciously
nagged at him for days.
"Why wasn't I raised here?" Melissa asked into the silence. Her voice was too calm.
"Because your family was being hunted." Teresa moved to touch her, but Melissa kept distance
between them. "Missy, someone was killing them all. Your grandparents, your aunts and uncles and
cousins. An older brother you never knew." Teresa pressed her lips together as the tears slipped from her
eyes. "Freak storms that would hit with such a fury, and always where your family was. They came out of
perfectly clear skies and thundered with magic. Your father decided to move you and your mother to safety
after Dale died." She faltered, bringing her hands up to cover her face again.
When it looked like she wasn't going to continue, Melissa yelled, "Finish the damn story, Teresa!"
The older woman's chest hitched and she spoke through her hands, muffling her words. "Your
father was crazy with grief after Dale died. He found out about the Traveling mirrors from a dwarven
friend, and stole it with the help of my husband. At that time, I was your mother's young maidservant. We
had both loved Dale very much, and I think Jonathan was as sick at his death as your father was. Jon and I
went through the mirror and learned the ways of the 10th Kingdom for a year. When we came back, your
mother was very pregnant with you." Teresa drew in a ragged breath and looked up again.
"Prince Andre was adamant that you were to be born here but brought up elsewhere, in safety. So
we stayed, and I helped Jelena through the birthing, and then returned to the 10th Kingdom to get
everything ready. We made up the story that your parents had fled from Russia, because at the time it was
easy to believe. Jon and I returned six months later, and everything appeared to have calmed down. Even
the Prince. He had determined that the danger had passed, and you would stay in your home." She
stopped, and began crying again. "And then Jonathan was killed."
Wendell moved to Teresa, placing an arm around her shoulders. "It's all right," he whispered. He
glanced at Melissa, and was shocked by the anger he saw.
She clenched her hands into tight fists. "Finish the story," she ordered.
"Melissa, please, let her --"
"No, Wendell," she interrupted, glaring at him. "She picked this time by not telling me sooner. I
just want to hear it before she starts lying to me again."
"Melissa!"
"Tell me!" she shouted.
Teresa tensed under Wendell's arm, and he tightened his grip around her. "I can finish," she
assured him quietly. She didn't leave the circle of his arm, though. "Your father was furious, and he
ordered me to join them in their exile. I had nothing else here, so I gladly went. Because six months had
passed, I returned for another month and settled everything, and then came to retrieve your family. But
Andre was terrified that someone would follow us through the mirror, so he devised a plan. We would go
through, and then he would take the mirror out into the Great Northern Sea and enter the mirror there,
making sure it was closed and tossed overboard after. His most trusted servant agreed to help him, and so
you, your mother, and I went through. He never followed. We didn't know what had happened, but your
mother went to the rendezvous spot every day for almost a year, slowly wasting away until she could no
longer make the journey. A week after that, she died."
"Why did she die?"
Teresa's lips twisted, and for the first time, Wendell saw a flash of anger. "Because she loved him,
Missy. Without him, she saw no reason to live."
"What about me?"
Wendell wanted to go to Melissa, pull her into his arms and soothe away the pain he heard in her
words, and he saw in Teresa's eyes that she felt the same. "Oh, Missy," she breathed. "She loved you just
as much. She wasn't thinking straight, but she knew how much I loved you, and that I would take care of
you. Jelena died of a broken heart."
"So, what," Melissa threw her hands in the air. "My mother was co-dependent and irresponsible,
is that what you're saying? I guess I'm better off without her then!"
Teresa surged forward the few feet that separated them, and slapped Melissa across the cheek.
"Don't you ever speak about your mother like that!"
In the stinging silence, they all gaped at each other, and Wendell rubbed his eyes, not sure he
really believed what he had seen and heard. Melissa pressed her fingers to her cheek.
"I'm sorry, Missy," Teresa whispered. "I shouldn't have done that. I just ... your parents, like your
grandparents, had true love. They were a part of each other, and without Andre, Jelena wasn't whole. Just
before she died, she said to me, 'How can I live when the best part of me is already dead?'"
Melissa grasped the back of her head with her hands. "This is ... I can't ... " she shook her head
frantically. "You lied to me, Terry. You've always been lying to me."
"No, Missy. Just about your past. Everything else I've ever told you has been the truth."
"Please," she whispered, and even from where he stood, Wendell could feel the ragged ache in her
voice. "Leave me alone. I can't look at you." She covered her eyes and turned away, her whole body
moving with the force of her breaths.
Teresa bit her lip, glancing at Wendell briefly. "Melissa, I'm sorry."
"Go away."
Without a sound, Teresa pushed past Wendell and fled into the forest. He moved to follow her
when he heard Melissa call his name. Instantly he turned to her, pulling her limp body into his arms and
hugging her tightly. Teresa, he was certain, would be all right. But he couldn't bear to leave Melissa alone
with her pain, astonished as he was at her anger. Her hands clutched the smooth fabric of his shirt, and she
hung onto him as though she'd fall if she let go.
He faced Inesh, angry at the hurt Melissa was feeling as she cried in his arms. "You could have
warned them," he hissed.
The unicorn, who had not moved the entire time, shook his great head. "I did," he said sadly. He
pointed his black horn at them. "You chose to ignore me."
He wanted to growl at the Oracle, but stopped himself. He couldn't help Melissa if he was going
to go doggy. "You knew what would happen, why didn't you say anything at all?"
"I know only what is, King of the Fourth Kingdom. Not what will be." Inesh sounded frustrated.
"I did warn you."
Wendell huffed, pulling Melissa tighter to him. Underneath his feet, the ground vibrated and then
stilled. He thought he had imagined it, until it happened again. "What was that?" he asked Inesh.
The unicorn's eyes closed, and his body seemed to shimmer in the shadows. "An enemy comes
this way." The pauses between vibrations grew shorter, and the shaking stronger. "He comes for you."
Inesh's eyes opened, the blue depths bright with things unseen. "King of the Fourth Kingdom, this is what
you must know: a giant comes this way, hungry for destruction. Within the heart of the Fire Tree is a
poisonous vine. Put your dagger through the middle of one of its leaves and then stab the giant. That is the
way you must destroy it. Hurry -- it will rip through my forest, looking for you!"
"The fire tree? Where in the fairying forest is that?" Wendell gestured with one hand, Melissa
still in his arms. She was looking around, her eyes dazed. The vibration was almost constant now, and
leaves fluttered down from the trees.
"Come with me, I will show you. You must hurry." Inesh stamped his forehoof, and started
trotting further into the forest.
"Wait-" Wendell sighed, releasing Melissa. "Stay here," he told her, staring into her stormy eyes.
"Just stay here." She nodded slowly. Relieved, he let her go and started running after the Oracle.
Branches had begun to creak with the weight of the vibration, and a deep, deep voice could be heard
rumbling on the wind. He followed the pale white flashes he saw, hoping they were Inesh. Birds flew
around them without direction, bouncing off of the trees and each other, filling the air with their tiny
shrieks of terror. The forest was alive with chaos.
The shaking grew stronger, and Wendell stumbled, tripping over a fallen branch. He fell to the
ground, scraping his palms raw on an exposed root. Inesh's white form disappeared into the forest.
"Inesh!" he called out, desperate to be heard. "Wait!" Pushing himself up, he followed, praying he hadn't
lost the unicorn.
Darting between two huge trees, he exploded into a clearing, where the Oracle had stopped.
Inesh's white flanks heaved with the exertion, his red head marred with lather. "It is here," he said, no trace
of breathlessness in his words.
The horn pointed to a tree a short distance away. It was short for a tree, no taller than Wendell
himself, its leaves a deep sunset-red. They way they lay on the branches, it looked like it was on fire.
Presumably where it had gotten its name.
The young king rushed to it, spotting a small hole at the base of the trunk. He slipped his dagger
from his belt, and fell to his knees, bending down to peer in. In the shadows, he couldn't tell where the
leaves were, so he reached his hand in to pull one out.
"No!" Inesh shouted, whinnying loudly. Wendell jerked his hand out quickly, startled by the
sudden noise. "You must not touch the leaves. It will kill you if you touch it. Stab the dagger -- quickly."
The ground rolled under their feet, emphasizing his words. "The giant comes!"
Wendell thrust his dagger into the hole, feeling the point slice through the faint resistance. He had
no idea if he'd hit the right spot, and when he brought the weapon back out, it looked dry. "How will I
know if I hit it?" he asked.
"Stab the giant. The poison cannot be seen, that is why it is so dangerous."
Groaning, Wendell forced himself to his feet, holding the knife carefully away from him. "That's
bloody perfect," he mumbled, running after Inesh as the unicorn took off without a word.
Branches were falling to the ground now, and it was getting harder to stand, much less run. The
deep voice was still speaking, and over the cacophony of birdcalls, Wendell made out the words: "Little
King! Where are you hiding? My lady wishes to speak with you!" He swallowed down his fear and ran
faster.
Reaching Melissa again, he found her hugging a tree, looking around wildly. Her gaze was sharp
again, and panicked. "What's going on?" she shouted when he came near.
Keeping the dagger as far from her as possible, he took her outstretched hand and began leading
her out of the forest. Inesh watched them for a moment, then disappeared the other way. "It's a giant!"
Wendell had to shout over the noise now, even though they were right next to each other. The vibration
had become a constant, and his bones felt like they would crack from the pressure. Birds fell out of the sky
and were quickly covered with leaves and twigs. A branch snapped and plummeted from the top of a tall
tree, narrowly missing him.
And suddenly, it went absolutely silent.
The vibration had stopped without warning, and the birds, apparently as surprised as Wendell, had
quieted. A few leaves fell to the ground, and a last branch cracked, the noise like lightning in the stillness.
It tumbled to the ground, crashing into a bed of leaves, sending up one last flurry of chirps before silence
settled again.
"What happened?" Melissa whispered.
In answer, there was a long, low roar, a crash, and then a woman's terrible scream.
"TERRY!" As if called to action, the noise and clamor sprang up again, and Melissa ran for the
edge of the forest, Wendell following her closely.
They came bursting out of the tree line into shade, and saw their carriage lying crumpled, a
hundred feet from where it had been. To the side Wendell first saw toes, and craned his head backwards to
see the entirety of the giant. It was enormous, taller than Aileen's castle, with feet as large across as the
river that separated his kingdom from the trolls'.
"Suck an elf," he breathed.
White-faced, Melissa was staring at the carriage, breathing fast. "Wh-what are we going to do?"
Shifting the dagger in his sweaty grip, Wendell brought it around to show Melissa. Compared to
the giant, it's slim blade looked as effective as a flower stem. "Inesh showed me the way." He was
surprised at how confident he sounded. Above them the giant laughed, and they both spread out their arms
to keep from falling.
"There you are little king! Have you come to play?" He lowered his big face a little, and Wendell
was surprised to see that he wasn't ugly. "But we have no time for games. My lady wants you, little man."
His powerful breath blew their hair and clothes.
Wendell searched frantically for a place to hit him, but the giant was wearing boots as thick as a
wall, and everything else was too out of reach. He would have to wait to be grabbed. "Let me handle this,"
he told Melissa hurriedly. "And whatever you do, let him get me first."
She was still staring at the carriage, but she nodded quickly.
Summoning courage, Wendell waved his hand at the giant. "Good!" he shouted as loud as could.
"I want to meet her, too! If she is so weak that she must send others to do her work, then she doesn't
frighten me!"
The giant laughed a long time at that. "She should!" he answered simply. But he brought his hand
down, the fingers as thick as the trees that stood behind them.
Licking his lips, Wendell waited until the hand was almost around him, and he gripped the handle
of his dagger with both hands, holding it out in front of him, so it would pierce the soft flesh between the
thumb and first finger.
When the fingers closed, he threw himself forward, and felt the knife embed itself up to the hilt.
The giant grunted and shook him roughly. He felt his head snap back, and blackness crept in at the edges
of sight. "What are you doing?" the giant asked. Wendell's stomach lurched as the ground rushed away,
and he was suddenly much too high in the air, eye-level with his captor. He waited for some sign that the
poison had worked, but the giant merely smiled and bent down again, Wendell's breakfast rising into his
throat. "I will play with the woman, though," the giant announced.
Melissa didn't respond, and when Wendell shifted enough to turn around, he saw the giant's hand
close around her, as well. They were both rushed back into the air and turned to face each other. "You will
make a good doll for my child," he told her. "And perhaps she can have a little king when my lady is
finished."
Fear finally registered, and Wendell stared across the empty expanse that separated him from
Melissa. He had failed, and now the giant had her, and she would die. Even his own death didn't matter as
much. He twisted the knife furiously, and although the giant grunted and shook him again, nothing else
happened. Wendell forced back unconsciousness and looked at Melissa once more. Their eyes met, and he
shouted his love to her, but he couldn't tell if she'd heard.
"My daughter would love -" The giant stopped talking abruptly, and when Wendell looked up, he
saw his mouth hanging open. The huge man grunted once, and without warning the body started to topple
backward.
"Hold on!" Wendell shouted, grabbing onto one of the thick fingers. They sped towards the
ground, and faster than he dreamt possible, the body had crashed. The impact jarred Wendell's grip loose,
but he fell into the giant's palm and was buffeted around in the fingers, which hadn't moved. The noise was
overpowering and for a long time after he had stopped moving, he heard rumbling in his mind.
Some time later, his whole body bruised and aching, Wendell pulled his dagger out of the giant's
palm and climbed out of his hand. He scanned the body, but there was no sign of movement. The poison
had worked.
"Melissa?" he called out, struggling to breathe deeply. His ribs were aching, but it was nothing
compared to the fear he felt. Scrambling down the arm and across the chest, Wendell made his way to the
giant's other hand, in time to see Melissa pulling herself out. She looked as sore and frightened as he felt.
Her hair was tangled in a mass, and tears had dried on her cheeks, which were red and raw. But seeing her
alive, she looked more beautiful to him then than ever before.
He crawled up the arm to her, and hugged her close, although they both grimaced at each other's
touch. "Are you ok?" he asked, kissing her forehead.
"I think so." She felt her arm and winced. "Just very, very sore." She looked around, and he saw
a memory in her eyes. "Oh God. Terry, where is Terry?"
"I don't know." He surveyed the area as well, but could only see the carriage. He prayed that she
wasn't inside. "Come on, let's go look for her, I'm sure she's fine."
"Did you hear her scream?"
"Melissa." He cupped his hand under her chin. "Let's look for her first."
She nodded, and they slipped off of the hand together, helping each other down. Wendell wanted
to search the forest first, they both called Teresa's name repeatedly, but he felt drawn to the mangled
carriage. Unable to avoid it, they headed straight for it, and stopped several feet away.
"Terry?" Melissa called, her voice tremulous.
There was no answer.
"Let me look," Wendell said, holding her back. She protested, but he pushed her away and she fell
silent. He didn't really want to be the first, but he couldn't let Melissa do it.
Reluctantly, he put one hand on the door and took a deep breath. "Teresa?" he asked. His heart
was exploding in his chest. Peering into the shadowy interior, he didn't see anything at first, and then, he
caught a faint paleness in the dark. He covered his mouth with his hand and forced down the knot of grief
that choked him. "Teresa," he said again, carefully making his way into the carriage. Splintered wood
jutted out everywhere, the seats and roof torn by it. Teresa was tucked into a corner, her gentle eyes closed.
Wendell settled himself next to her and felt the carriage shift under his weight. When it had
stopped moving, he felt for a pulse, listened for breath, looked for life. And found none.
"She's dead, isn't she?"
He turned, surprised by the words. Melissa was looking through the window at them, her eyes
dark.
Wendell couldn't speak, so he nodded.
Pressing her lips together until they disappeared, Melissa nodded in return, and her eyes caressed
Teresa's still form. The silence crept into the carriage, swathing them in their grief.
"Melissa," Wendell whispered, helpless to do anything else. "I am sorry."
She shrugged carelessly. "It's not your fault, Wendell. It was that bitch," she spit the word out
and then calmed again. "The Soul Ravager. It wasn't you."
He climbed out of the carriage, peering up into the afternoon sky. It was a long walk to the nearest
castle. He wasn't sure which way to go next.
"Was Sport in there?"
Wendell watched her, shaking his head. "No, he wasn't." She seemed to stagger with relief and he
thought she would finally crack, before she pulled herself back together. He could only stand there as she
turned to the forest and began calling for the cat. Her reaction worried him, but he had no idea how to help
her, so he started calling Sport's name as well.
The orange tabby ran from the forest's safety, and leapt into Melissa's open arms. Behind him
came the driver, leading the four carriage horses. "Y-your High-highness." The man was still shaking.
"Driver." He hadn't even asked the man's name, he realized. He did so, and was told 'Joseph.'
Nodding, Wendell ordered him to take Teresa's body back to Aileen's castle, where it was to be stored until
she could have a proper burial in her true home. They pulled the body as gently as they could out of the
carriage, and settled it over one of the horses. It was an unpleasant sight, her arms dangling off one side,
her legs off the other, and knowing it was Teresa only made it worse. Joseph hurried off at Wendell's
command, leaving the other two horses behind.
Wendell watched them go, unable to look away. Gentle Teresa, who had traveled so silently and
well, who he had come to care deeply for, was gone. The horses' departure made it seem all the more final.
He wiped at the corners of his eyes. And now they had to leave Teresa like that, to try and find the woman
who had killed her before anyone else was hurt.
"Melissa, we need to go," he said, trying to coax her onto the horse. She wouldn't let go of Sport
long enough to get on the horse. "Please, we don't have time to walk to Antony's."
"I don't want to lose him."
He looked away, feeling her pain as his own. "I will hold him while you mount, and then you can
have him back."
"He might jump from your arms."
"I won't let him, Melissa. I swear it. Please?"
She studied Wendell, apparently weighing his worthiness, before thrusting Sport into his arms. He
grasped the wriggling cat tightly, and willingly gave him up when she was situated.
Mounting his own horse, Wendell made one last survey of the area, appalled at the destruction.
The giant's body stretched out before them, to the side was the ruined carriage, and behind was the forest,
it's leaves and branches and birds scattered all over the ground. Wendell owed this 'Soul Ravager' much.
He glanced at Melissa, but she was whispering her secrets to Sport, oblivious to anything else.
With a sigh, Wendell spurred his horse onward, making sure she followed after him. They still
had a long way to go.
**********
Grojavek wasn't sure what all that noise had been, but he was glad that it was over. The shaking
had left him sprawled on the ground, and he picked himself up carefully. Double-checking the mirror for
any cracks and finding none, he stuck his tongue out at his reflection.
At least his nose had returned to its normal size. He squeezed it lovingly, pleased to find it hadn't
been hurt. When he was a great Imp King, they would paint many portraits of his nose and he needed a
good one. One as good as Muklavuk's had been. Now *that* was a nose.
In the darker parts of his mind, Muklavuk shoved him forward, and he picked up the mirror and
continued tottering on. He'd run out of dust, and now had to struggle with a full-length mirror across the
countryside. If he hadn't been so excited about Muklavuk's plan, he'd drop the mirror now and run home to
safety. Instead, Groj giggled with excitement.
Grojavek the Imp King. It sounded so good in his head.
He continued walking, balancing the mirror unsteadily as he went. Although he walked for a long
time, he never seemed to get very far. Not that it mattered much -- he was too busy imagining his new Imp
Court. There would be lots of servants and food, and he'd build his mother her own house, very far away.
And he'd have a whole room dedicated to all the awards and medals he was going to receive. And they
would have a day just for him. And he'd have to add something to his name. Grojavek the Great. King
Grojavek the Great. King Grojavek the Most Great and Brave. His head nearly split with a smile.
Underneath the rubbery soles of his feet, the ground shivered again. Groj's eyes widened and he
looked about for somewhere to hide the mirror. Whatever had been shaking earlier was back, and it felt
like it was coming his way. From the intense pounding, it felt like there was more than one, too.
He squealed as all of Muklavuk's courage washed away with the fear. He didn't want to die! The
mirror was too heavy to run with, and too fragile to just throw away. It was going to get him killed!
"What is that?"
Grojavek stopped where he was at the words, trying to figure out who'd said them. "What?" he
squeaked.
"Melissa, look!" The pounding grew harder, and when Groj spun to face his attacker, he nearly
passed out at the horse bearing down on him. "It's the mirror!" he heard the male voice shout.
The horse was shouting at him?
It whinnied as it stopped just in front of him, and someone dismounted. Grojavek pushed the
mirror between them, cowering behind it like it was a shield. Then the man yanked it from his grasp, and
Groj covered himself with his long, thin arms. "Don't hurt me!" he pleaded.
"Who are you, imp?" It was the man again, and he sounded angry.
"Don't hurt me!" Groj begged again.
The shadow of either the man or the mirror disappeared, and afternoon sunlight crept back over
Groj's skin. There were soft words he couldn't make out, and the heavy breathing of the horse near his ear.
He wanted to peek through his arms and see what was happening, but he was too frightened. Muklavuk
sulked in the back of his thoughts.
Suddenly, something was nudging him in the side. "How did you get the mirror?" It was the man
again. Chancing a look, Groj shifted his arms and peered up into the face of a human male. A very
familiar looking human male, he realized.
"Don't hurt me," he whimpered.
The man sighed, nudging him again with his foot. "Answer my question, imp. How did you get
the mirror?"
Groj sank further into himself. Why was this man so familiar to him? He hated humans! Like
those two women. And that orange cat! Only humans would have pets like that. But, still, he couldn't say
where he'd gotten it, or who he was taking the mirror to. She'd kill him!
Not like she wasn't going to kill him anyway, Muklavuk added softly.
And then there was a dagger pointing right between Groj's eyes. "Tell me," the man hissed, "or I'll
rip it out of you."
Grojavek eeped and tried to melt into the ground. "I-I...I..." He squinted, and the man's face sunk
in. "King Wendell!" he screeched, before fainting dead away.
**********
Wendell frowned and dug his toe into the little green body, but the imp had apparently fainted.
"Odd," he murmured. "But fortunate." He turned and grabbed his horse's reins, slicing off a length and
quickly tying the imp up. It was suspicious finding him out here with the mirror like this and they couldn't
afford to let him get away. Although the idea of this small creature smuggling the mirror out of his castle
was ridiculous, Wendell couldn't ignore the fact that he did have it now. Why would an imp steal a huge
mirror from the three pigs, unless he knew what it was? And how would an imp know what a traveling
mirror looked like? The situation left too many questions to let the imp go. Once the little green man was
secured, Wendell straightened, glancing to Melissa.
She was staring blankly at the countryside, her hands clenching Sport to her chest. Wendell had
hoped finding the mirror would spur her awake, but she still seemed oblivious to anything he said or did.
*Looks like I'll have to figure this out myself* he thought, picking up the imp. He shook the creature
gently, remembering what it felt like earlier in the giant's hands.
The impossibly large eyes opened, blinked, and the imp fainted again.
Sighing, Wendell attached the imp to his saddle. Obviously they'd have to wait to get to Tony's
castle, where the imp could be made less frightened, to find out what was going on. The mirror glinted in
the sunlight, looking large and immovable. "What do you think we should do with the mirror?" Wendell
asked aloud, not expecting an answer.
"Destroy it."
He gaped, and spun to face Melissa. She glared past him at the mirror, her whole body tense with
hate. "What?" he asked.
"It's an evil thing. It should be destroyed."
"I can't destroy the mirror, Melissa. I won't!" Wendell shifted his body in between her and the
mirror. "It's not evil."
"It killed Terry."
He bit hard on his lower lip to keep from arguing with her. *She is in a lot of pain* he told
himself. *Just let it be.* But this meant he'd definitely have to keep the mirror on his horse.
Nearly half an hour later he'd worked out a precarious situation. Both the imp and the mirror had
been strapped to the front of his saddle, and he was nearly out of rein leather. He had wanted to put the imp
on Melissa's horse, but Sport had gone into a frenzy and sliced a long, shallow cut down the imp's chest that
looked like it was meant to kill. The imp was awake now, but too terrified to even attempt to speak.
*At least we're moving,* Wendell sighed.
The ride to Antony's castle was slow and silent, and they passed small villages and smaller farms
without stopping. Wendell wasn't hungry, and he was fairly certain getting Melissa to eat would be
impossible anyway. Later that evening, he felt it a blessing to finally see the spires of the castle reflected in
the moonlight. The moon was almost three-quarters full now, and difficult to look at in the dark of night.
They made their way to the castle bathed in the light, and by the time they'd arrived at the gates,
there was a small regiment to meet them. The soldiers bowed and cheered and laughed as they led the two
horses into the courtyard, and Wendell heard the whispers dart around him.
"They have the mirror!"
"They look tired."
"Look at that one -- I don't know her."
"Aye, but she's beautiful! Sir Tony will like her."
There were a few snickers after that, but Wendell's sharp glare shut the men up. "Where is
Antony?" he asked loudly. Knowing that these men were looking at Melissa like that made the hairs on his
arms stand up.
"Wendell!" There was a familiar voice from the back of the crowd and men started moving aside.
"Wendell, are you all right?" Antony pushed forward to his horse, his eyes worried. He glanced at
Melissa, and for an instant the young king thought about snarling at him. "Who's that?" Antony asked, his
smooth voice low.
"That's not your concern," Wendell announced. "I have found the mirror."
"It was missing?"
"Yes. Someone stole it. This imp," Wendell prodded the terrified creature with his finger, "had it.
I don't know if it was him or someone else, but we got it back."
"That's great, Wendell!" Antony slapped him heartily on the boot. "Come on, we saw you
coming down the road and have some food and baths prepared for --"
"Um, Antony." Wendell leaned forward and whispered in his friend's ear. "A lot has happened to
both of us. We need some privacy right now. There's much more to this than you know."
The man raised his eyebrows, looking back and forth from Melissa to Wendell. "Ooooohhhhhhh,"
he breathed, winking. "You sly dog." Wendell rolled his eyes, spurring his horse through the crowd.
There was a tussle, and one of the men leapt forward to lead Melissa's horse. Wendell growled
under his breath, and when they had dismounted in front of the stables, quickly took her arm in his, making
sure he gave the eager young soldier a meaningful look. The man reddened and slunk off, horses
following. Antony had unstrapped the mirror, and carried it into the castle, while someone else had the imp
tucked under his arm. The small group made their way to Antony's room, and the mirror and creature were
set on the floor, everyone but Wendell and Melissa leaving.
The little imp had started crying, and his sniffling was the only sound for a long time. Wendell
had his arm wrapped firmly around Melissa's shoulders while she stared quietly at Sport. The orange tabby
couldn't take his eyes off of the imp, but he was silent, too.
Antony threw the door open and slammed it shut behind him. He'd managed to put on a few more
pounds since Wendell had last seen him, and his chubby face was wrinkled with a smile. "It's good to see
you!" he boomed. "Although you look pretty beat up. You ok?"
"We had a problem with a giant."
"A giant? Well, I'll assume you won, since you're alive." He didn't seem to notice Wendell
wincing. "And the mirror, too, I'm glad you found it. You haven't heard anything from Virginia, have
you?" The smile disappeared, replaced with fatherly concern.
"No, nothing at all. I don't believe she and Wolf have come through. We were apparently very
close to the mirror most of the time, and Wolf could easily have watched over her."
He nodded, looking appeased. "Still, I think I'll make a visit over tomorrow to be sure. Besides,
it'd be nice to see my daughter." His smile returned, softer this time, and Wendell couldn't help but smile in
response. He was so changed from what had happened. All of them were.
"So," Antony said, clearing his throat. "Who's this?"
Wendell's arm tightened slightly, but Melissa seemed not to notice she was being spoken to. "This
is Melissa," he supplied for her. "She's also from your world. Los Angeles, I believe she said."
"Right, right! West coaster. I should've known, no one in New York would have a tan like that.
Nice to meet you, Melissa." He held out his hand, but she simply stared at it. "Ok," he said, glancing at
Wendell. "So what brings you to the Nine Kingdoms?"
When it was obvious she wouldn't answer, Wendell let her go and pulled Antony to the other side
of the room before he could get angry. It took him several minutes, but he explained what had happened
with the mirror, Inesh, the Oracle's news, and the tragedy with Teresa. He was relieved by Antony's quick
sympathy.
"Well you have to go after this Soul Ravager," he said darkly. "You can leave Melissa here with
me if you want."
"I think I might," Wendell sighed. "She's just too--"
"I'm going." Both men jumped, startled by her sudden appearance behind them. "I'm going to kill
the woman that did this."
"Melissa, I'm not sure that's a good idea."
She turned those startling eyes on him, and Wendell felt pierced by the despair he saw. "I'm
going, Wendell. Sport will stay here, but I'm going. We need to get some sleep. Where's my room?" She
looked past him to Antony, and the older man could only shrug.
"I could have someone show you," he offered.
She nodded once, sharply. "Good. And," she added, glancing at the imp, "put him in my room as
well. Sport will watch him." The cat's eyes narrowed to yellow slits, and he looked frighteningly eager.
Antony rang the bell pull without a word. Wendell wasn't sure whether to kiss Melissa goodbye,
but she and the imp were whisked away before he could decide.
"She's a little ... touchy, isn't she?" Antony asked.
"She's not usually like that."
"Melissa, huh? She reminds me of someone, but I can't remember who. An elf, maybe?"
Wendell sighed, staring at the door she'd just exited through. "She's an actress in your world.
Quite famous from what I gathered. Teresa kept calling her by some name, Missy, I think."
"Missy?" Antony inhaled deeply. "Missy Duke? Wendell, oh my God! I can't believe I didn't
recognize her! They're right, they always look different in person. Wendell, do you know who that is?"
The king sighed again. "The woman I'm in love with," he murmured.
"I should get her autograph! You could make a fortune selling her stuff!" He snapped his fingers
near Wendell's ear. "E-bay. I could make a killing on E-bay."
"What?" The younger man turned, confused. "Antony, what are you talking about?"
Antony gestured at the door. "All I'm saying is that I could make a lot of money with her help.
You know, for Virginia."
"Really, Antony, sometimes you are just incredible. At least wait until she's stopped grieving, will
you?"
He hung his head, his dark hair shifting to highlight his bald spot. "You're right. I'm sorry. You
don't know how exciting this is, though. Virginia would have a fit to get to meet her, she's seen all her
movies. We went to LA once to go to Disneyland, and we thought we saw her there. Virginia would've
followed her all around Disneyland, but we lost her in the crowd. She blamed me because I was 'walking
too slow.' Well excuse me if I don't want to run around in 100-degree weather, you know? It wasn't her
anyway, I kept trying to tell her that. You would never actually see someone that famous. Someone like
Missy Duke would just rent Disneyland for the day, none of this mingling with the commoners stuff."
"Antony, please."
"Right. Sorry." He ran a hand over his hair, covering the bald spot again. "So what are you going
to do about Soul Ravager?"
"Inesh told Melissa she had to return home. And Soul Ravager is after me, so we're both going."
"I can send people with you."
"No. We won't need them."
"How do you know?"
"Inesh would have told us. I think Melissa is the key to this. Soul Ravager has killed many
people, sending an army after her won't work."
Antony shook his head. "How does that follow?"
"I have a feeling."
"Oh, that makes me feel so much better."
"Antony." Wendell used his best royal persona, feeling somehow guilty for it. "No one goes but
Melissa and I. That's final."
"You know, I really don't understand you sometimes. At least let me come with you, Wendell.
You're king now, you can't go all by yourself."
Wendell exhaled slowly. Being a king was much more difficult than he had ever dreamed. "After
you check on Wolf and Virginia, you can come after us. We won't need you, and if you get killed, I swear I
won't feel guilty about it." That was a lie, but it couldn't hurt to say it. "But I can't stop you."
Antony smiled, putting a large hand on his shoulder. "Well you could certainly try. It's for the
best Wendell, trust me. I don't want you to be killed, either." He squeezed Wendell's shoulder, and then
turned away, embarrassed. "So where is Melissa's kingdom? Must have been a hell of a shock, finding out
she came from here like that."
"Mm," he agreed. "It's at the border where the Eight Kingdom meets the Fourth Kingdom.
Byron's line controls the fishing villages in the southern fjords. He's technically a part of the Ice Queen's
kingdom, but they've always been too far away to fall under her evil control. They've always considered
themselves subjects of the Whites, even though they're technically not."
"Mermaids, huh? I'll have to check them out some day. It's a long ride from here, though. Listen,
I have a magic potion you can use for your horses. It makes them twice as fast and tireless, so you'll arrive
as soon as possible."
"Where did you get a potion like that?"
"Oh, I built a little something for the elves. They were so grateful, they gave me these potions as
payment. It wasn't our original deal," Antony winked, "but I couldn't refuse them. They gave me two, so I
can use the other one when I follow you. Now, let's get you to your room. You have a long journey
ahead."
"Antony." Wendell stopped him before he called one of his servants. "Thank you for your help."
"Hey, it's nothing. You're the king, right?" He tugged the bell pull, and a young girl led Wendell
down the short hallway to his guestroom. He asked her where Melissa was, and she pointed at the door
next to his. Thanking her, he gave her a gold Wendell from a small amount Aileen had given him, and she
nearly skipped away.
Wendell edged up to Melissa's door, staring at it. He raised his hand to knock, but was stopped by
the sounds of sobbing he could barely hear. So far as he knew, it was the first time she'd cried since Teresa
had been killed. Would she continue if he came in? He thought it more likely she would stop, and make
more of an effort to hold her feelings back until Soul Ravager was dead. That, he knew, would be infinitely
worse. Weary, he returned to his own room, not falling asleep until much later with the sounds of Melissa's
grief echoing in his mind.
**********
Something whispered in the shadowed corner of Melissa's room.
She woke slowly, uncurling herself from where she'd fallen asleep at the foot of the bed. The
words stopped abruptly with her movement. When she blinked and peered into the darkness, she could
make out a small, dark lump. Sport slept a few feet away from it, although he stirred when she called his
name. The big cat stretched lazily, muscles tensing and relaxing under his smooth fur. Morning light
leaked underneath thick, velvet drapes, which were barely moving with the breeze. It was chilly in the
room, but not uncomfortably so.
The skin around Melissa's eyes was tight, and she massaged her temples to try and soothe the pain.
But this headache had been present since she'd first seen Terry's body lying pale and still in the carriage.
*God, Terry* she moaned, covering her face again. She thought she'd cried all her pain away last night, but
it hurt just as fiercely this morning. Her arms and legs felt like deadweights, and her heart couldn't seem to
beat steadily. Moving towards the small bowl a servant had provided last night, she splashed cold water on
her face.
"Sport," Melissa called, her voice rough. The big cat hadn't left the corner, instead he was
hunkered down and staring intently at the mysterious form. "What are you looking at?" she wondered,
making her way cautiously towards him. Yesterday was fuzzy, and when she saw the little green creature
shaking in the corner, it took her a moment to recall him. The mirror. The memory exploded in her
thoughts, momentarily lightening her grief.
She picked the small imp up and shook him softly. "I remember you. You're the one who got us
into this. You were in my kitchen!"
His tiny mouth disappeared in terror. "Don't hurt me!" he squealed. His voice reminded her of the
Chipmunks, but much higher and more irritating.
"If you answer my questions, I won't hurt you," she said, not quite promising it to herself. He
must've heard the hesitation on her part, because his wide eyes narrowed. "You don't have much choice,"
she hissed.
The imp grumbled, and then shrieked when she shook him again. "Stop doing that!" he pouted.
"That hurts."
"Then answer my questions."
"You didn't ask me any!"
She glared at him, and realized he was right. Ignoring her embarrassment, Melissa nodded
sharply. "Fine, then. What's your name?"
He smiled smugly. "Grojavek."
"Why were you in my kitchen?"
The smile disappeared and he shrugged sullenly. "I wanted to be there."
"But why?" When he didn't answer, she shook him again.
"I'm going to be a great King!" he shouted. "King of your stupid world!"
"King of *my* world?" Melissa's mouth dropped open. "Are you serious?"
"Muklavuk will help me!"
"Who?"
His sigh was so deep and dramatic, she nearly laughed. "He's the greatest imp of all time. He's
helping me. We'll get Her, and then we'll get you!"
Melissa's eyebrows furrowed. "Get who?"
The imp looked away, his face suddenly panicked. She felt his thin fingers twitching, ticklish
against her skin. "No one."
"Who, Grojavek?"
"No one! You can't get Her! You won't!" She squeezed a little, until he choked on his words.
"Don't kill me!" he pleaded.
"Then tell me who she is."
"All right," he said, his whole demeanor changing. "I take you to Her. She wants you anyway. I
tell you everything, if I live." His smug grin was back.
"Why should I believe you? For all I know, you could be working for her."
"No!" he shouted, looking angry. He dropped his voice until she had to lean forward to hear him.
"I kill Her. She used me and gave me up to die. She'll kill me, if I don't kill Her first. I can't kill Her if I'm
dead."
"Fine, you tell me, and I won't kill you."
He giggled, sharp and maniacal, and she almost dropped him. "I don't trust you! You take me
with you, then we both be safe."
Melissa tilted her head slightly, considering it. Wendell would certainly disagree, but the little
imp had a point. Whatever information they could get on this 'Soul Ravager' could only help them kill her.
And she had to die. Melissa would see to that personally.
"Deal. But I'm not untying you." She set up back on the ground, and Sport stalked up to him,
hissing in the imp's face.
"It's gonna eat me!" Grojavek screamed.
"No he won't. We're leaving now and he's not coming with us. You'll be safe enough." She
picked Sport up, and walked out of the room, the imp cursing behind her. A passing servant directed her to
Wendell's door. Melissa knocked loudly.
After a short pause, she heard muffled footsteps and then, "Yes?"
She swallowed down the knot in her throat before answering. "Wendell, it's me. We need to
leave. Now."
"Melissa?" He opened the door and blinked at her. He was wearing a long shirt, and his curls
were tousled from sleep. He looked handsome and well rested, and for some reason it irritated her. "Is
something wrong?"
"Except Terry being dead?" she snapped. He winced and she looked down at Sport, instantly
regretting her words. "We need to leave as soon as we can," she continued, easing the sharpness in her
tone. "That monster is waiting for us, and we owe it to Terry to not waste anymore time. I'm leaving Sport
here, too," she added quickly, amazed she could get the words out. "I want you to take him and make sure
he's safe. He will be safe, won't he?" She looked into his eyes again, desperate for some comfort.
Wendell nodded slowly. "Of course," he whispered.
"Good. Then let's go," she pleaded.
He nodded again. "Let me just finish getting ready. I'll meet you in the entry hall. Antony is
going to give us some supplies, so we have to wait for those."
Melissa shoved Sport into his arms, the cat meowing as she did so. "Leave him with Tony for me.
Please." Wendell nodded, cradling the cat in his arms. She knew she'd never be able to hand Sport over to
a stranger herself. "Bye, Sporty," she said, kissing the top of his head. Any more, she knew, and she'd
burst into tears. She turned, and without a look back, retreated to her room. She could still hear Sport
crying as she shut the door behind her.
**********
Wendell arrived in the entry hall, not surprised to see Melissa glaring impatiently at him. Her
moods from yesterday had apparently been whisked away by this overwhelming need to do something, and
she already looked ready to explode. He feared what the nearly two day ride would do to her nerves. At
least they had the potions. Without them, it would take almost four days, and it was just after lunch now.
"Are you ready?" she demanded once he got close enough.
This trip was going to try his patience,too, he could tell. "Yes. Antony has prepared everything
for us already, he regrets he won't be able to see us off." During their brief goodbye earlier the older man
had nearly started crying. Wendell knew his friend didn't want to have to do it again. "Why is he here?" he
asked, finally seeing the imp.
"Grojavek is coming with us."
"Grojavek?"
"The imp." She had the green creature tucked under her arm, tied with fresh ropes. "He knows
who Soul Ravager is, and where we can find her."
"Inesh said everything we'd need to know was at your home, though. Why bring him? He's
probably lying."
"I don't think he is. Besides, any extra information can only help us kill her."
"Melissa, I really --"
"I don't care, Wendell!" She stepped forward, her eyes flashing stormy gray. "He's coming with
us. I'll deal with him."
"We're in this together, Melissa, whether you want my help or not. I don't want him coming
along. He can't be trusted."
"I trust him."
He bit down hard on his lower lip to keep himself from saying something insulting. "Are you sure
you've thought about this?"
"Jesus Christ," she muttered. "I'm not a lunatic, Wendell. Yes, I'm upset that Terry died, but I'm
mad, too. And I won't let you stop me from going. And I won't let you stop Grojavek from going, either.
You can stay."
"I'm coming."
"Whatever." Melissa turned and strode outside.
Wendell followed, jogging to catch up with her. "Did you eat?"
She glanced at him, then away. "Yeah."
"Truly?"
"No."
He sighed and let it drop. It was easier for him to understand her situation, remembering as he did
what it had been like when his own parents had been murdered. He hadn't done anything for a week, other
than lay in his room all day. And although the hysteria he saw brimming in Melissa's eyes worried him, at
least she was moving around.
They mounted the horses in silence and a servant handed up the half full bottle to him.
"They'll need it ag'n tomorra' afternoon" the man told him. "Be careful, yer Highness."
"Thank you."
The man nodded and backed away, and Wendell urged his horse with a slight pressure. The horse
shot forward and Wendell had to grab on to keep from losing his saddle. The potions, it seemed, were
working.
Glancing behind him occasionally to make sure Melissa kept up, Wendell let the horse run without
stopping. He kept a close eye on both mounts, but neither seemed to need the rest. He stopped once to let
them all drink from a nearby stream and then they continued riding until nightfall, stopping once it got too
dark to see. He went about setting up a campsite and tending to the horses, but they seemed no more
winded than after a normal day of riding. It was a great boon from Antony, and he would have to
remember to properly reward his friend later.
Melissa sat on the ground talking softly with the imp while Wendell moved about them. He
caught a few words as he passed by, but they never meant anything to him. As he stoked the fire to
crackling life, he wondered if she would bother to share his confidence anymore. His heart twisted inside,
and he inhaled deeply to calm himself. The air was warm and smelled of dirt and leaves, but it didn't
soothe the king. Was any hope they had for a future gone now, eaten away by loss and revenge? He
snapped a twig in two and threw both pieces into the fire, and watched them bounce out again, smoldering.
Had the giant killed both Terry and Melissa that day?
He looked over at the woman who was half his soul, wishing he could save her. This need of hers
frightened and worried him, and he didn't have the faintest idea of what to do about it. Or what to do about
Soul Ravager. They had to find the answers in Melissa's home or they would never win. He certainly
didn't trust this Grojavek. It was an imp, for troll's sake! *Not that Melissa would know not to trust him*
he thought to himself. *Does she even understand what her past means?* He watched her as she chewed
aimlessly on a piece of bread, sharing part of it with the imp. She was staring at the fire but her eyes were
glassy and distant. *She's a Princess now, with land and people. But she still has a whole life in the Tenth
Kingdom. One she'll want to go back to, I'm sure.* He didn't think she loved him enough to stay. He
wasn't sure she loved him at all.
Wendell leapt to his feet, ignoring her startled cry and going to the horses. He needed her, like
flowers needed the sun, and yet she would leave him when this was all over and he wouldn't be able to stop
her. If staying made her miserable -- how could he force her into doing so? If he hadn't seen the look in
her eyes the night at Aileen's, he'd be tempted to give up on his love now, not that his heart would let him
do that easily. But there had been something there ... something he hoped she'd recognize.
He pulled out a comb and started brushing down his horse, a big, bay gelding with a wide chest
and long legs. The horse nickered softly, shifting from foot to foot. The steady movement eased Wendell's
pain a little, let his mind release thoughts of the future to concentrate on the present. He missed Teresa,
when he thought of her. She'd obviously been a tremendous woman, and one of the kindest people he'd
ever met. And, in some small way, he'd wished she could have met Antony. They would have been an
interesting pair. Teresa would have known what to say to Melissa, to get her to calm down and just think.
Wendell leaned his forehead against the horse, breathing in the thick scents. Teresa wasn't here.
It was just him and Melissa and this Grojavek, going to face an enemy they knew nothing about. "Well
that's just perfect," he murmured, straightening. He finished brushing down his horse, and then did
Melissa's smaller black horse as well, giving all his concentration to the simple task. It didn't work very
well to clear away his worries, but it passed time he wouldn't be able to spend sleeping.
When he returned to Melissa, she was already asleep, Grojavek lying next to her. The imp's eyes
were open and watched Wendell closely.
"If you lie to us, I will kill you myself," Wendell said softly.
Grojavek squeaked and his eyes rolled back in his head. It wasn't until after Wendell had finished
eating that the imp finally spoke.
"I not lying. I want to kill Her too."
Wendell grunted. "Make sure that's all you do." He ate a small meal and then lay down on his
blanket. Another full day and a half of riding waited for them. More time to think and worry and wonder,
and then there would be no time left at all. He watched Melissa across the fire for a long time, studying her
face, her forehead creased even in sleep. Next to her, Grojavek had finally gone to sleep and was snoring,
loudly for a creature so small.
In Wendell's dreams that night, his worries had free rein. Imps and mermaids and horrific
monsters danced and scampered around him as he held Melissa in his arms. And when he looked down at
her, she was as pale and still as Teresa had been, blood covering her lovely face. He woke up at dawn,
sweating and calling her name.
**********
Grojavek's arms had fallen asleep again. He tried to wiggle his fingers and had no idea if he
succeeded or not. They had been riding all day, and no one paid any attention to him. Of course, no one
spoke more than a few sentences most of the ride anyway. The woman had gotten all of the information
Groj was going to give last night. Now it seemed she was done with him.
*Good* he thought, trying to spit. The horse jolted as he did so, and most of the liquid dripped
down his chin onto his green chest, tickling him. The imp sighed heavily, feeling the rope dig further into
his skin. He would demand that she set him free tonight! This was getting out of hand. Muklavuk silently
agreed with him.
Groj liked being smarter. It made problems like these less scary. Normally he'd be too terrified to
even think about what the night would be like, let alone how he would be making demands. This being
courageous had its good points.
Still, he decided it would have been better to be home rather than in the situation at all.
The two humans stopped the horses for the night, and the woman untied Groj from the saddle,
setting him down on the ground while Wendell did whatever it was humans did when they camped. Imps
always used the trees and leaves and dug in for the night. The humans were much more obnoxious than
that, of course.
Wriggling his shoulders, Grojavek felt life start to tingle back into them, and everywhere they
touched rope, they burned with the magic of awakening. Groj hopped up and down, tears leaking from his
eyes as he giggled at the strange pain. The feeling passed after a torturous minute and he collapsed to the
ground, panting.
The woman sat down next to him and silently untied one of his arms, handing him some food. He
grabbed it quickly, stuffing the stale bread into his mouth. It took him a long time to eat. A big mouth
would be useful sometimes, he thought.
"I want to tell you about Rob."
Groj looked up, but the woman was staring at King Wendell, who had come and sat down across
the fire from them. King Wendell. Groj shook his head, feeling his ears flap softly against his skin. What
terrible luck did he have to run into King Wendell? But then Grojavek giggled happily, earning a stern
glare from the two humans. He looked away from them, his lips still pulled back in a grin. Muklavuk had
helped him turn even that elf-all situation into something glorious. If his hands had been free, he would
have clapped them together with excitement. She would die. All of them would! All but Grojavek.
"May I ask why?"
Stifling his happiness, Grojavek settled down, leaning against the woman's pack so Muklavuk
could listen to the conversation.
"I want someone to know." She was quiet, and Grojavek watched her, but the light from the fire
was unsteady in her eyes. "In case something happens to me with Soul Ravager."
"Don't say that!" The imp thought Wendell's anger was predictable.
"It could happen. And ... I want you to know. I would feel better if I didn't hide this from you."
Humans were such complicated creatures.
"If it helps you..."
"It will." She continued after a quick breath. "Rob and I were married when I was nineteen and
foolish. He was twenty-six, and an established, well-respected actor. And just the most gorgeous man I'd
ever seen. We both liked to party and he was good to me, on the surface. The media -- the newspaper
reporters?" Grojavek and Wendell both nodded in understanding. "They loved it. The newspapers in our
world like nothing better than to pry into actors' and actresses' lives. And when you take the two most
popular at the time ... well, what else would you expect? I think we were pressured into getting married,
almost." She shook her head fiercely. "I'm not going to blame any of my decisions on anyone else, though.
I decided to marry him, and he made the same decision about me.
"The next three years are a predictable story. An on-and-off relationship with lots of passion and
even more fighting. It was the most free publicity I'd ever received. Rob started taking drugs, um, pills and
other things he thought would make him feel better," she looked up, and when Groj looked over at
Wendell, the king was nodding again, "and he started to change. He got crazier. He got meaner, too."
"Melissa-"
"It's all right. This story doesn't bother me anymore. Not after all that's happened."
They were both quiet again for awhile.
"Rob hit me one night. He'd been threatening me for weeks -- that's when I got Sport -- and he
finally just went over the edge. I left immediately, of course. I had enough money and power that I didn't
need to take abuse from him, and Terry would have dragged me out by my hair anyway. He called me a
few nights later, and he was completely sloshed."
"Sloshed?"
"Drunk. He'd been drinking all three days, apparently. Anyway, he called and said -- I'll never
forget it -- he said 'It's all your fault. I hope you're happy, I've done this for you.' Then he hung up. When
I tried to call him back, his phone was off the hook. The next morning, they found the body of a young
woman, hell, a girl really, in the trash outside his property." Grojavek perked up, more interested now that
there was talk of bodies, especially human bodies.
"There was a huge investigation, and he was let off. Can you believe it? Let off. But he had been
the one who called and reported the body, and the police didn't want to arrest someone with that much
power. His last movie had been the top-grossing movie of all time, and they weren't going to fight that
money with only circumstantial evidence. He may have been drunk when he called me, but when he
cleaned up in the morning, he sure got smart. No fingerprints, murder weapon, witnesses, nothing. Just
me. I went into long talks with my publicity agents and lawyers, we held meetings with his people, I had
several death threats sent to my home. Everyone I knew -- every last person, Wendell, even Terry -- told
me just to keep quiet, that to do anything would only put me in danger and accomplish nothing. I *knew*
it was him, though. And do you know what I did Wendell? I did nothing. I let it slide by, and the death
threats, and the press, and the moment passed. And Rob walked free."
She seemed to be having trouble breathing, and Grojavek cursed softly at her for leaving out the
best parts. He had wanted to hear how the woman had been killed, and what this Rob was like. Wendell
stood up and came around to the woman's other side, kneeling down next to her, but she held out her hand
to keep him away.
"I made my choices, Wendell. I don't need any pity, not when that girl died and I kept on living in
my nice house with my perfect life. If you feel sorry for anyone, it should be her. I don't deserve pity.
You don't know what it's like to go to bed every night, knowing you hold the key to someone's revenge in
your hands, and unable to do anything about it." She was staring at the fire, and Groj suspected she saw
only the girl's body.
"That's why you want to go after Soul Ravager."
"Yes." She hissed the word in such a voice that Grojavek shrank back into the folds of the
backpack to hide himself. He had never heard so much feeling in one word.
No one said anything after that, and the fire slowly died while they all sat around it, thinking. The
imp wasn't sure what the other two were considering, but he was looking carefully at Muklavuk's plans.
The woman sitting next to him, his captor now, frightened him almost as much as She did. If he weren't so
sure that the Great Imp King was going to help him, he'd back out now. They had plans that went beyond
what the humans wanted, but Groj wasn't so sure this woman wouldn't just kill him if he betrayed her.
*Do it quickly* Muklavuk advised. *And at the right time.*
*How will I know?* he wailed to himself.
*I will tell you. She is not the only one who knows of revenge.*
The woman re-tied his hand and stretched out on her blanket, while King Wendell sat for a long
time and stared around at nothing. It was boring enough that the imp even started to forget his fear, and he
found himself falling asleep. *Maybe* he thought to himself, just before he started dreaming, *I won't
have to kill the humans...*
**********
Melissa had dropped it, glinting in the dull light.
Visibly trembling, Melissa hugged her arms to her chest. "I'm from here? That's not possible.
My parents are from the Ukraine -- I have a birth certificate!" She looked to Terry, her features pleading.
The older woman had covered her face with her hands, and soft sobs shook her. "Terry?" Melissa
whispered. Wendell had a feeling that the real trouble was about to start.
"Did you lie to me Terry?"
"Yes." It was more a sigh than a word.
The quiet was threatening. Wendell put a hand on Melissa's shoulder, but she jerked away.
"Tell me," she demanded.
Teresa wiped her face and looked up. "I don't think here--"
"Here is perfect. Tell me," she ground out. Wendell's heart ached for them both.
Standing, Teresa faced them, her eyes and voice dull as she spoke. "What Inesh says is true. You
are the daughter of Prince Andre and Princess Jelena. The Prince was the son of Prince Byron, who loved
the Little Mermaid. You are his granddaughter, raised in the Tenth Kingdom."
Through his shock and concern, realization settled over Wendell. It did explain her almost
preternatural beauty and stately bearing. Byron's family, all but one believed to be dead he recalled, were
famous for how they looked. *That must be what Teresa wanted to tell me before.* And if Teresa was
from here as well, it explained how the mirror had been turned off, a problem that had subconsciously
nagged at him for days.
"Why wasn't I raised here?" Melissa asked into the silence. Her voice was too calm.
"Because your family was being hunted." Teresa moved to touch her, but Melissa kept distance
between them. "Missy, someone was killing them all. Your grandparents, your aunts and uncles and
cousins. An older brother you never knew." Teresa pressed her lips together as the tears slipped from her
eyes. "Freak storms that would hit with such a fury, and always where your family was. They came out of
perfectly clear skies and thundered with magic. Your father decided to move you and your mother to safety
after Dale died." She faltered, bringing her hands up to cover her face again.
When it looked like she wasn't going to continue, Melissa yelled, "Finish the damn story, Teresa!"
The older woman's chest hitched and she spoke through her hands, muffling her words. "Your
father was crazy with grief after Dale died. He found out about the Traveling mirrors from a dwarven
friend, and stole it with the help of my husband. At that time, I was your mother's young maidservant. We
had both loved Dale very much, and I think Jonathan was as sick at his death as your father was. Jon and I
went through the mirror and learned the ways of the 10th Kingdom for a year. When we came back, your
mother was very pregnant with you." Teresa drew in a ragged breath and looked up again.
"Prince Andre was adamant that you were to be born here but brought up elsewhere, in safety. So
we stayed, and I helped Jelena through the birthing, and then returned to the 10th Kingdom to get
everything ready. We made up the story that your parents had fled from Russia, because at the time it was
easy to believe. Jon and I returned six months later, and everything appeared to have calmed down. Even
the Prince. He had determined that the danger had passed, and you would stay in your home." She
stopped, and began crying again. "And then Jonathan was killed."
Wendell moved to Teresa, placing an arm around her shoulders. "It's all right," he whispered. He
glanced at Melissa, and was shocked by the anger he saw.
She clenched her hands into tight fists. "Finish the story," she ordered.
"Melissa, please, let her --"
"No, Wendell," she interrupted, glaring at him. "She picked this time by not telling me sooner. I
just want to hear it before she starts lying to me again."
"Melissa!"
"Tell me!" she shouted.
Teresa tensed under Wendell's arm, and he tightened his grip around her. "I can finish," she
assured him quietly. She didn't leave the circle of his arm, though. "Your father was furious, and he
ordered me to join them in their exile. I had nothing else here, so I gladly went. Because six months had
passed, I returned for another month and settled everything, and then came to retrieve your family. But
Andre was terrified that someone would follow us through the mirror, so he devised a plan. We would go
through, and then he would take the mirror out into the Great Northern Sea and enter the mirror there,
making sure it was closed and tossed overboard after. His most trusted servant agreed to help him, and so
you, your mother, and I went through. He never followed. We didn't know what had happened, but your
mother went to the rendezvous spot every day for almost a year, slowly wasting away until she could no
longer make the journey. A week after that, she died."
"Why did she die?"
Teresa's lips twisted, and for the first time, Wendell saw a flash of anger. "Because she loved him,
Missy. Without him, she saw no reason to live."
"What about me?"
Wendell wanted to go to Melissa, pull her into his arms and soothe away the pain he heard in her
words, and he saw in Teresa's eyes that she felt the same. "Oh, Missy," she breathed. "She loved you just
as much. She wasn't thinking straight, but she knew how much I loved you, and that I would take care of
you. Jelena died of a broken heart."
"So, what," Melissa threw her hands in the air. "My mother was co-dependent and irresponsible,
is that what you're saying? I guess I'm better off without her then!"
Teresa surged forward the few feet that separated them, and slapped Melissa across the cheek.
"Don't you ever speak about your mother like that!"
In the stinging silence, they all gaped at each other, and Wendell rubbed his eyes, not sure he
really believed what he had seen and heard. Melissa pressed her fingers to her cheek.
"I'm sorry, Missy," Teresa whispered. "I shouldn't have done that. I just ... your parents, like your
grandparents, had true love. They were a part of each other, and without Andre, Jelena wasn't whole. Just
before she died, she said to me, 'How can I live when the best part of me is already dead?'"
Melissa grasped the back of her head with her hands. "This is ... I can't ... " she shook her head
frantically. "You lied to me, Terry. You've always been lying to me."
"No, Missy. Just about your past. Everything else I've ever told you has been the truth."
"Please," she whispered, and even from where he stood, Wendell could feel the ragged ache in her
voice. "Leave me alone. I can't look at you." She covered her eyes and turned away, her whole body
moving with the force of her breaths.
Teresa bit her lip, glancing at Wendell briefly. "Melissa, I'm sorry."
"Go away."
Without a sound, Teresa pushed past Wendell and fled into the forest. He moved to follow her
when he heard Melissa call his name. Instantly he turned to her, pulling her limp body into his arms and
hugging her tightly. Teresa, he was certain, would be all right. But he couldn't bear to leave Melissa alone
with her pain, astonished as he was at her anger. Her hands clutched the smooth fabric of his shirt, and she
hung onto him as though she'd fall if she let go.
He faced Inesh, angry at the hurt Melissa was feeling as she cried in his arms. "You could have
warned them," he hissed.
The unicorn, who had not moved the entire time, shook his great head. "I did," he said sadly. He
pointed his black horn at them. "You chose to ignore me."
He wanted to growl at the Oracle, but stopped himself. He couldn't help Melissa if he was going
to go doggy. "You knew what would happen, why didn't you say anything at all?"
"I know only what is, King of the Fourth Kingdom. Not what will be." Inesh sounded frustrated.
"I did warn you."
Wendell huffed, pulling Melissa tighter to him. Underneath his feet, the ground vibrated and then
stilled. He thought he had imagined it, until it happened again. "What was that?" he asked Inesh.
The unicorn's eyes closed, and his body seemed to shimmer in the shadows. "An enemy comes
this way." The pauses between vibrations grew shorter, and the shaking stronger. "He comes for you."
Inesh's eyes opened, the blue depths bright with things unseen. "King of the Fourth Kingdom, this is what
you must know: a giant comes this way, hungry for destruction. Within the heart of the Fire Tree is a
poisonous vine. Put your dagger through the middle of one of its leaves and then stab the giant. That is the
way you must destroy it. Hurry -- it will rip through my forest, looking for you!"
"The fire tree? Where in the fairying forest is that?" Wendell gestured with one hand, Melissa
still in his arms. She was looking around, her eyes dazed. The vibration was almost constant now, and
leaves fluttered down from the trees.
"Come with me, I will show you. You must hurry." Inesh stamped his forehoof, and started
trotting further into the forest.
"Wait-" Wendell sighed, releasing Melissa. "Stay here," he told her, staring into her stormy eyes.
"Just stay here." She nodded slowly. Relieved, he let her go and started running after the Oracle.
Branches had begun to creak with the weight of the vibration, and a deep, deep voice could be heard
rumbling on the wind. He followed the pale white flashes he saw, hoping they were Inesh. Birds flew
around them without direction, bouncing off of the trees and each other, filling the air with their tiny
shrieks of terror. The forest was alive with chaos.
The shaking grew stronger, and Wendell stumbled, tripping over a fallen branch. He fell to the
ground, scraping his palms raw on an exposed root. Inesh's white form disappeared into the forest.
"Inesh!" he called out, desperate to be heard. "Wait!" Pushing himself up, he followed, praying he hadn't
lost the unicorn.
Darting between two huge trees, he exploded into a clearing, where the Oracle had stopped.
Inesh's white flanks heaved with the exertion, his red head marred with lather. "It is here," he said, no trace
of breathlessness in his words.
The horn pointed to a tree a short distance away. It was short for a tree, no taller than Wendell
himself, its leaves a deep sunset-red. They way they lay on the branches, it looked like it was on fire.
Presumably where it had gotten its name.
The young king rushed to it, spotting a small hole at the base of the trunk. He slipped his dagger
from his belt, and fell to his knees, bending down to peer in. In the shadows, he couldn't tell where the
leaves were, so he reached his hand in to pull one out.
"No!" Inesh shouted, whinnying loudly. Wendell jerked his hand out quickly, startled by the
sudden noise. "You must not touch the leaves. It will kill you if you touch it. Stab the dagger -- quickly."
The ground rolled under their feet, emphasizing his words. "The giant comes!"
Wendell thrust his dagger into the hole, feeling the point slice through the faint resistance. He had
no idea if he'd hit the right spot, and when he brought the weapon back out, it looked dry. "How will I
know if I hit it?" he asked.
"Stab the giant. The poison cannot be seen, that is why it is so dangerous."
Groaning, Wendell forced himself to his feet, holding the knife carefully away from him. "That's
bloody perfect," he mumbled, running after Inesh as the unicorn took off without a word.
Branches were falling to the ground now, and it was getting harder to stand, much less run. The
deep voice was still speaking, and over the cacophony of birdcalls, Wendell made out the words: "Little
King! Where are you hiding? My lady wishes to speak with you!" He swallowed down his fear and ran
faster.
Reaching Melissa again, he found her hugging a tree, looking around wildly. Her gaze was sharp
again, and panicked. "What's going on?" she shouted when he came near.
Keeping the dagger as far from her as possible, he took her outstretched hand and began leading
her out of the forest. Inesh watched them for a moment, then disappeared the other way. "It's a giant!"
Wendell had to shout over the noise now, even though they were right next to each other. The vibration
had become a constant, and his bones felt like they would crack from the pressure. Birds fell out of the sky
and were quickly covered with leaves and twigs. A branch snapped and plummeted from the top of a tall
tree, narrowly missing him.
And suddenly, it went absolutely silent.
The vibration had stopped without warning, and the birds, apparently as surprised as Wendell, had
quieted. A few leaves fell to the ground, and a last branch cracked, the noise like lightning in the stillness.
It tumbled to the ground, crashing into a bed of leaves, sending up one last flurry of chirps before silence
settled again.
"What happened?" Melissa whispered.
In answer, there was a long, low roar, a crash, and then a woman's terrible scream.
"TERRY!" As if called to action, the noise and clamor sprang up again, and Melissa ran for the
edge of the forest, Wendell following her closely.
They came bursting out of the tree line into shade, and saw their carriage lying crumpled, a
hundred feet from where it had been. To the side Wendell first saw toes, and craned his head backwards to
see the entirety of the giant. It was enormous, taller than Aileen's castle, with feet as large across as the
river that separated his kingdom from the trolls'.
"Suck an elf," he breathed.
White-faced, Melissa was staring at the carriage, breathing fast. "Wh-what are we going to do?"
Shifting the dagger in his sweaty grip, Wendell brought it around to show Melissa. Compared to
the giant, it's slim blade looked as effective as a flower stem. "Inesh showed me the way." He was
surprised at how confident he sounded. Above them the giant laughed, and they both spread out their arms
to keep from falling.
"There you are little king! Have you come to play?" He lowered his big face a little, and Wendell
was surprised to see that he wasn't ugly. "But we have no time for games. My lady wants you, little man."
His powerful breath blew their hair and clothes.
Wendell searched frantically for a place to hit him, but the giant was wearing boots as thick as a
wall, and everything else was too out of reach. He would have to wait to be grabbed. "Let me handle this,"
he told Melissa hurriedly. "And whatever you do, let him get me first."
She was still staring at the carriage, but she nodded quickly.
Summoning courage, Wendell waved his hand at the giant. "Good!" he shouted as loud as could.
"I want to meet her, too! If she is so weak that she must send others to do her work, then she doesn't
frighten me!"
The giant laughed a long time at that. "She should!" he answered simply. But he brought his hand
down, the fingers as thick as the trees that stood behind them.
Licking his lips, Wendell waited until the hand was almost around him, and he gripped the handle
of his dagger with both hands, holding it out in front of him, so it would pierce the soft flesh between the
thumb and first finger.
When the fingers closed, he threw himself forward, and felt the knife embed itself up to the hilt.
The giant grunted and shook him roughly. He felt his head snap back, and blackness crept in at the edges
of sight. "What are you doing?" the giant asked. Wendell's stomach lurched as the ground rushed away,
and he was suddenly much too high in the air, eye-level with his captor. He waited for some sign that the
poison had worked, but the giant merely smiled and bent down again, Wendell's breakfast rising into his
throat. "I will play with the woman, though," the giant announced.
Melissa didn't respond, and when Wendell shifted enough to turn around, he saw the giant's hand
close around her, as well. They were both rushed back into the air and turned to face each other. "You will
make a good doll for my child," he told her. "And perhaps she can have a little king when my lady is
finished."
Fear finally registered, and Wendell stared across the empty expanse that separated him from
Melissa. He had failed, and now the giant had her, and she would die. Even his own death didn't matter as
much. He twisted the knife furiously, and although the giant grunted and shook him again, nothing else
happened. Wendell forced back unconsciousness and looked at Melissa once more. Their eyes met, and he
shouted his love to her, but he couldn't tell if she'd heard.
"My daughter would love -" The giant stopped talking abruptly, and when Wendell looked up, he
saw his mouth hanging open. The huge man grunted once, and without warning the body started to topple
backward.
"Hold on!" Wendell shouted, grabbing onto one of the thick fingers. They sped towards the
ground, and faster than he dreamt possible, the body had crashed. The impact jarred Wendell's grip loose,
but he fell into the giant's palm and was buffeted around in the fingers, which hadn't moved. The noise was
overpowering and for a long time after he had stopped moving, he heard rumbling in his mind.
Some time later, his whole body bruised and aching, Wendell pulled his dagger out of the giant's
palm and climbed out of his hand. He scanned the body, but there was no sign of movement. The poison
had worked.
"Melissa?" he called out, struggling to breathe deeply. His ribs were aching, but it was nothing
compared to the fear he felt. Scrambling down the arm and across the chest, Wendell made his way to the
giant's other hand, in time to see Melissa pulling herself out. She looked as sore and frightened as he felt.
Her hair was tangled in a mass, and tears had dried on her cheeks, which were red and raw. But seeing her
alive, she looked more beautiful to him then than ever before.
He crawled up the arm to her, and hugged her close, although they both grimaced at each other's
touch. "Are you ok?" he asked, kissing her forehead.
"I think so." She felt her arm and winced. "Just very, very sore." She looked around, and he saw
a memory in her eyes. "Oh God. Terry, where is Terry?"
"I don't know." He surveyed the area as well, but could only see the carriage. He prayed that she
wasn't inside. "Come on, let's go look for her, I'm sure she's fine."
"Did you hear her scream?"
"Melissa." He cupped his hand under her chin. "Let's look for her first."
She nodded, and they slipped off of the hand together, helping each other down. Wendell wanted
to search the forest first, they both called Teresa's name repeatedly, but he felt drawn to the mangled
carriage. Unable to avoid it, they headed straight for it, and stopped several feet away.
"Terry?" Melissa called, her voice tremulous.
There was no answer.
"Let me look," Wendell said, holding her back. She protested, but he pushed her away and she fell
silent. He didn't really want to be the first, but he couldn't let Melissa do it.
Reluctantly, he put one hand on the door and took a deep breath. "Teresa?" he asked. His heart
was exploding in his chest. Peering into the shadowy interior, he didn't see anything at first, and then, he
caught a faint paleness in the dark. He covered his mouth with his hand and forced down the knot of grief
that choked him. "Teresa," he said again, carefully making his way into the carriage. Splintered wood
jutted out everywhere, the seats and roof torn by it. Teresa was tucked into a corner, her gentle eyes closed.
Wendell settled himself next to her and felt the carriage shift under his weight. When it had
stopped moving, he felt for a pulse, listened for breath, looked for life. And found none.
"She's dead, isn't she?"
He turned, surprised by the words. Melissa was looking through the window at them, her eyes
dark.
Wendell couldn't speak, so he nodded.
Pressing her lips together until they disappeared, Melissa nodded in return, and her eyes caressed
Teresa's still form. The silence crept into the carriage, swathing them in their grief.
"Melissa," Wendell whispered, helpless to do anything else. "I am sorry."
She shrugged carelessly. "It's not your fault, Wendell. It was that bitch," she spit the word out
and then calmed again. "The Soul Ravager. It wasn't you."
He climbed out of the carriage, peering up into the afternoon sky. It was a long walk to the nearest
castle. He wasn't sure which way to go next.
"Was Sport in there?"
Wendell watched her, shaking his head. "No, he wasn't." She seemed to stagger with relief and he
thought she would finally crack, before she pulled herself back together. He could only stand there as she
turned to the forest and began calling for the cat. Her reaction worried him, but he had no idea how to help
her, so he started calling Sport's name as well.
The orange tabby ran from the forest's safety, and leapt into Melissa's open arms. Behind him
came the driver, leading the four carriage horses. "Y-your High-highness." The man was still shaking.
"Driver." He hadn't even asked the man's name, he realized. He did so, and was told 'Joseph.'
Nodding, Wendell ordered him to take Teresa's body back to Aileen's castle, where it was to be stored until
she could have a proper burial in her true home. They pulled the body as gently as they could out of the
carriage, and settled it over one of the horses. It was an unpleasant sight, her arms dangling off one side,
her legs off the other, and knowing it was Teresa only made it worse. Joseph hurried off at Wendell's
command, leaving the other two horses behind.
Wendell watched them go, unable to look away. Gentle Teresa, who had traveled so silently and
well, who he had come to care deeply for, was gone. The horses' departure made it seem all the more final.
He wiped at the corners of his eyes. And now they had to leave Teresa like that, to try and find the woman
who had killed her before anyone else was hurt.
"Melissa, we need to go," he said, trying to coax her onto the horse. She wouldn't let go of Sport
long enough to get on the horse. "Please, we don't have time to walk to Antony's."
"I don't want to lose him."
He looked away, feeling her pain as his own. "I will hold him while you mount, and then you can
have him back."
"He might jump from your arms."
"I won't let him, Melissa. I swear it. Please?"
She studied Wendell, apparently weighing his worthiness, before thrusting Sport into his arms. He
grasped the wriggling cat tightly, and willingly gave him up when she was situated.
Mounting his own horse, Wendell made one last survey of the area, appalled at the destruction.
The giant's body stretched out before them, to the side was the ruined carriage, and behind was the forest,
it's leaves and branches and birds scattered all over the ground. Wendell owed this 'Soul Ravager' much.
He glanced at Melissa, but she was whispering her secrets to Sport, oblivious to anything else.
With a sigh, Wendell spurred his horse onward, making sure she followed after him. They still
had a long way to go.
**********
Grojavek wasn't sure what all that noise had been, but he was glad that it was over. The shaking
had left him sprawled on the ground, and he picked himself up carefully. Double-checking the mirror for
any cracks and finding none, he stuck his tongue out at his reflection.
At least his nose had returned to its normal size. He squeezed it lovingly, pleased to find it hadn't
been hurt. When he was a great Imp King, they would paint many portraits of his nose and he needed a
good one. One as good as Muklavuk's had been. Now *that* was a nose.
In the darker parts of his mind, Muklavuk shoved him forward, and he picked up the mirror and
continued tottering on. He'd run out of dust, and now had to struggle with a full-length mirror across the
countryside. If he hadn't been so excited about Muklavuk's plan, he'd drop the mirror now and run home to
safety. Instead, Groj giggled with excitement.
Grojavek the Imp King. It sounded so good in his head.
He continued walking, balancing the mirror unsteadily as he went. Although he walked for a long
time, he never seemed to get very far. Not that it mattered much -- he was too busy imagining his new Imp
Court. There would be lots of servants and food, and he'd build his mother her own house, very far away.
And he'd have a whole room dedicated to all the awards and medals he was going to receive. And they
would have a day just for him. And he'd have to add something to his name. Grojavek the Great. King
Grojavek the Great. King Grojavek the Most Great and Brave. His head nearly split with a smile.
Underneath the rubbery soles of his feet, the ground shivered again. Groj's eyes widened and he
looked about for somewhere to hide the mirror. Whatever had been shaking earlier was back, and it felt
like it was coming his way. From the intense pounding, it felt like there was more than one, too.
He squealed as all of Muklavuk's courage washed away with the fear. He didn't want to die! The
mirror was too heavy to run with, and too fragile to just throw away. It was going to get him killed!
"What is that?"
Grojavek stopped where he was at the words, trying to figure out who'd said them. "What?" he
squeaked.
"Melissa, look!" The pounding grew harder, and when Groj spun to face his attacker, he nearly
passed out at the horse bearing down on him. "It's the mirror!" he heard the male voice shout.
The horse was shouting at him?
It whinnied as it stopped just in front of him, and someone dismounted. Grojavek pushed the
mirror between them, cowering behind it like it was a shield. Then the man yanked it from his grasp, and
Groj covered himself with his long, thin arms. "Don't hurt me!" he pleaded.
"Who are you, imp?" It was the man again, and he sounded angry.
"Don't hurt me!" Groj begged again.
The shadow of either the man or the mirror disappeared, and afternoon sunlight crept back over
Groj's skin. There were soft words he couldn't make out, and the heavy breathing of the horse near his ear.
He wanted to peek through his arms and see what was happening, but he was too frightened. Muklavuk
sulked in the back of his thoughts.
Suddenly, something was nudging him in the side. "How did you get the mirror?" It was the man
again. Chancing a look, Groj shifted his arms and peered up into the face of a human male. A very
familiar looking human male, he realized.
"Don't hurt me," he whimpered.
The man sighed, nudging him again with his foot. "Answer my question, imp. How did you get
the mirror?"
Groj sank further into himself. Why was this man so familiar to him? He hated humans! Like
those two women. And that orange cat! Only humans would have pets like that. But, still, he couldn't say
where he'd gotten it, or who he was taking the mirror to. She'd kill him!
Not like she wasn't going to kill him anyway, Muklavuk added softly.
And then there was a dagger pointing right between Groj's eyes. "Tell me," the man hissed, "or I'll
rip it out of you."
Grojavek eeped and tried to melt into the ground. "I-I...I..." He squinted, and the man's face sunk
in. "King Wendell!" he screeched, before fainting dead away.
**********
Wendell frowned and dug his toe into the little green body, but the imp had apparently fainted.
"Odd," he murmured. "But fortunate." He turned and grabbed his horse's reins, slicing off a length and
quickly tying the imp up. It was suspicious finding him out here with the mirror like this and they couldn't
afford to let him get away. Although the idea of this small creature smuggling the mirror out of his castle
was ridiculous, Wendell couldn't ignore the fact that he did have it now. Why would an imp steal a huge
mirror from the three pigs, unless he knew what it was? And how would an imp know what a traveling
mirror looked like? The situation left too many questions to let the imp go. Once the little green man was
secured, Wendell straightened, glancing to Melissa.
She was staring blankly at the countryside, her hands clenching Sport to her chest. Wendell had
hoped finding the mirror would spur her awake, but she still seemed oblivious to anything he said or did.
*Looks like I'll have to figure this out myself* he thought, picking up the imp. He shook the creature
gently, remembering what it felt like earlier in the giant's hands.
The impossibly large eyes opened, blinked, and the imp fainted again.
Sighing, Wendell attached the imp to his saddle. Obviously they'd have to wait to get to Tony's
castle, where the imp could be made less frightened, to find out what was going on. The mirror glinted in
the sunlight, looking large and immovable. "What do you think we should do with the mirror?" Wendell
asked aloud, not expecting an answer.
"Destroy it."
He gaped, and spun to face Melissa. She glared past him at the mirror, her whole body tense with
hate. "What?" he asked.
"It's an evil thing. It should be destroyed."
"I can't destroy the mirror, Melissa. I won't!" Wendell shifted his body in between her and the
mirror. "It's not evil."
"It killed Terry."
He bit hard on his lower lip to keep from arguing with her. *She is in a lot of pain* he told
himself. *Just let it be.* But this meant he'd definitely have to keep the mirror on his horse.
Nearly half an hour later he'd worked out a precarious situation. Both the imp and the mirror had
been strapped to the front of his saddle, and he was nearly out of rein leather. He had wanted to put the imp
on Melissa's horse, but Sport had gone into a frenzy and sliced a long, shallow cut down the imp's chest that
looked like it was meant to kill. The imp was awake now, but too terrified to even attempt to speak.
*At least we're moving,* Wendell sighed.
The ride to Antony's castle was slow and silent, and they passed small villages and smaller farms
without stopping. Wendell wasn't hungry, and he was fairly certain getting Melissa to eat would be
impossible anyway. Later that evening, he felt it a blessing to finally see the spires of the castle reflected in
the moonlight. The moon was almost three-quarters full now, and difficult to look at in the dark of night.
They made their way to the castle bathed in the light, and by the time they'd arrived at the gates,
there was a small regiment to meet them. The soldiers bowed and cheered and laughed as they led the two
horses into the courtyard, and Wendell heard the whispers dart around him.
"They have the mirror!"
"They look tired."
"Look at that one -- I don't know her."
"Aye, but she's beautiful! Sir Tony will like her."
There were a few snickers after that, but Wendell's sharp glare shut the men up. "Where is
Antony?" he asked loudly. Knowing that these men were looking at Melissa like that made the hairs on his
arms stand up.
"Wendell!" There was a familiar voice from the back of the crowd and men started moving aside.
"Wendell, are you all right?" Antony pushed forward to his horse, his eyes worried. He glanced at
Melissa, and for an instant the young king thought about snarling at him. "Who's that?" Antony asked, his
smooth voice low.
"That's not your concern," Wendell announced. "I have found the mirror."
"It was missing?"
"Yes. Someone stole it. This imp," Wendell prodded the terrified creature with his finger, "had it.
I don't know if it was him or someone else, but we got it back."
"That's great, Wendell!" Antony slapped him heartily on the boot. "Come on, we saw you
coming down the road and have some food and baths prepared for --"
"Um, Antony." Wendell leaned forward and whispered in his friend's ear. "A lot has happened to
both of us. We need some privacy right now. There's much more to this than you know."
The man raised his eyebrows, looking back and forth from Melissa to Wendell. "Ooooohhhhhhh,"
he breathed, winking. "You sly dog." Wendell rolled his eyes, spurring his horse through the crowd.
There was a tussle, and one of the men leapt forward to lead Melissa's horse. Wendell growled
under his breath, and when they had dismounted in front of the stables, quickly took her arm in his, making
sure he gave the eager young soldier a meaningful look. The man reddened and slunk off, horses
following. Antony had unstrapped the mirror, and carried it into the castle, while someone else had the imp
tucked under his arm. The small group made their way to Antony's room, and the mirror and creature were
set on the floor, everyone but Wendell and Melissa leaving.
The little imp had started crying, and his sniffling was the only sound for a long time. Wendell
had his arm wrapped firmly around Melissa's shoulders while she stared quietly at Sport. The orange tabby
couldn't take his eyes off of the imp, but he was silent, too.
Antony threw the door open and slammed it shut behind him. He'd managed to put on a few more
pounds since Wendell had last seen him, and his chubby face was wrinkled with a smile. "It's good to see
you!" he boomed. "Although you look pretty beat up. You ok?"
"We had a problem with a giant."
"A giant? Well, I'll assume you won, since you're alive." He didn't seem to notice Wendell
wincing. "And the mirror, too, I'm glad you found it. You haven't heard anything from Virginia, have
you?" The smile disappeared, replaced with fatherly concern.
"No, nothing at all. I don't believe she and Wolf have come through. We were apparently very
close to the mirror most of the time, and Wolf could easily have watched over her."
He nodded, looking appeased. "Still, I think I'll make a visit over tomorrow to be sure. Besides,
it'd be nice to see my daughter." His smile returned, softer this time, and Wendell couldn't help but smile in
response. He was so changed from what had happened. All of them were.
"So," Antony said, clearing his throat. "Who's this?"
Wendell's arm tightened slightly, but Melissa seemed not to notice she was being spoken to. "This
is Melissa," he supplied for her. "She's also from your world. Los Angeles, I believe she said."
"Right, right! West coaster. I should've known, no one in New York would have a tan like that.
Nice to meet you, Melissa." He held out his hand, but she simply stared at it. "Ok," he said, glancing at
Wendell. "So what brings you to the Nine Kingdoms?"
When it was obvious she wouldn't answer, Wendell let her go and pulled Antony to the other side
of the room before he could get angry. It took him several minutes, but he explained what had happened
with the mirror, Inesh, the Oracle's news, and the tragedy with Teresa. He was relieved by Antony's quick
sympathy.
"Well you have to go after this Soul Ravager," he said darkly. "You can leave Melissa here with
me if you want."
"I think I might," Wendell sighed. "She's just too--"
"I'm going." Both men jumped, startled by her sudden appearance behind them. "I'm going to kill
the woman that did this."
"Melissa, I'm not sure that's a good idea."
She turned those startling eyes on him, and Wendell felt pierced by the despair he saw. "I'm
going, Wendell. Sport will stay here, but I'm going. We need to get some sleep. Where's my room?" She
looked past him to Antony, and the older man could only shrug.
"I could have someone show you," he offered.
She nodded once, sharply. "Good. And," she added, glancing at the imp, "put him in my room as
well. Sport will watch him." The cat's eyes narrowed to yellow slits, and he looked frighteningly eager.
Antony rang the bell pull without a word. Wendell wasn't sure whether to kiss Melissa goodbye,
but she and the imp were whisked away before he could decide.
"She's a little ... touchy, isn't she?" Antony asked.
"She's not usually like that."
"Melissa, huh? She reminds me of someone, but I can't remember who. An elf, maybe?"
Wendell sighed, staring at the door she'd just exited through. "She's an actress in your world.
Quite famous from what I gathered. Teresa kept calling her by some name, Missy, I think."
"Missy?" Antony inhaled deeply. "Missy Duke? Wendell, oh my God! I can't believe I didn't
recognize her! They're right, they always look different in person. Wendell, do you know who that is?"
The king sighed again. "The woman I'm in love with," he murmured.
"I should get her autograph! You could make a fortune selling her stuff!" He snapped his fingers
near Wendell's ear. "E-bay. I could make a killing on E-bay."
"What?" The younger man turned, confused. "Antony, what are you talking about?"
Antony gestured at the door. "All I'm saying is that I could make a lot of money with her help.
You know, for Virginia."
"Really, Antony, sometimes you are just incredible. At least wait until she's stopped grieving, will
you?"
He hung his head, his dark hair shifting to highlight his bald spot. "You're right. I'm sorry. You
don't know how exciting this is, though. Virginia would have a fit to get to meet her, she's seen all her
movies. We went to LA once to go to Disneyland, and we thought we saw her there. Virginia would've
followed her all around Disneyland, but we lost her in the crowd. She blamed me because I was 'walking
too slow.' Well excuse me if I don't want to run around in 100-degree weather, you know? It wasn't her
anyway, I kept trying to tell her that. You would never actually see someone that famous. Someone like
Missy Duke would just rent Disneyland for the day, none of this mingling with the commoners stuff."
"Antony, please."
"Right. Sorry." He ran a hand over his hair, covering the bald spot again. "So what are you going
to do about Soul Ravager?"
"Inesh told Melissa she had to return home. And Soul Ravager is after me, so we're both going."
"I can send people with you."
"No. We won't need them."
"How do you know?"
"Inesh would have told us. I think Melissa is the key to this. Soul Ravager has killed many
people, sending an army after her won't work."
Antony shook his head. "How does that follow?"
"I have a feeling."
"Oh, that makes me feel so much better."
"Antony." Wendell used his best royal persona, feeling somehow guilty for it. "No one goes but
Melissa and I. That's final."
"You know, I really don't understand you sometimes. At least let me come with you, Wendell.
You're king now, you can't go all by yourself."
Wendell exhaled slowly. Being a king was much more difficult than he had ever dreamed. "After
you check on Wolf and Virginia, you can come after us. We won't need you, and if you get killed, I swear I
won't feel guilty about it." That was a lie, but it couldn't hurt to say it. "But I can't stop you."
Antony smiled, putting a large hand on his shoulder. "Well you could certainly try. It's for the
best Wendell, trust me. I don't want you to be killed, either." He squeezed Wendell's shoulder, and then
turned away, embarrassed. "So where is Melissa's kingdom? Must have been a hell of a shock, finding out
she came from here like that."
"Mm," he agreed. "It's at the border where the Eight Kingdom meets the Fourth Kingdom.
Byron's line controls the fishing villages in the southern fjords. He's technically a part of the Ice Queen's
kingdom, but they've always been too far away to fall under her evil control. They've always considered
themselves subjects of the Whites, even though they're technically not."
"Mermaids, huh? I'll have to check them out some day. It's a long ride from here, though. Listen,
I have a magic potion you can use for your horses. It makes them twice as fast and tireless, so you'll arrive
as soon as possible."
"Where did you get a potion like that?"
"Oh, I built a little something for the elves. They were so grateful, they gave me these potions as
payment. It wasn't our original deal," Antony winked, "but I couldn't refuse them. They gave me two, so I
can use the other one when I follow you. Now, let's get you to your room. You have a long journey
ahead."
"Antony." Wendell stopped him before he called one of his servants. "Thank you for your help."
"Hey, it's nothing. You're the king, right?" He tugged the bell pull, and a young girl led Wendell
down the short hallway to his guestroom. He asked her where Melissa was, and she pointed at the door
next to his. Thanking her, he gave her a gold Wendell from a small amount Aileen had given him, and she
nearly skipped away.
Wendell edged up to Melissa's door, staring at it. He raised his hand to knock, but was stopped by
the sounds of sobbing he could barely hear. So far as he knew, it was the first time she'd cried since Teresa
had been killed. Would she continue if he came in? He thought it more likely she would stop, and make
more of an effort to hold her feelings back until Soul Ravager was dead. That, he knew, would be infinitely
worse. Weary, he returned to his own room, not falling asleep until much later with the sounds of Melissa's
grief echoing in his mind.
**********
Something whispered in the shadowed corner of Melissa's room.
She woke slowly, uncurling herself from where she'd fallen asleep at the foot of the bed. The
words stopped abruptly with her movement. When she blinked and peered into the darkness, she could
make out a small, dark lump. Sport slept a few feet away from it, although he stirred when she called his
name. The big cat stretched lazily, muscles tensing and relaxing under his smooth fur. Morning light
leaked underneath thick, velvet drapes, which were barely moving with the breeze. It was chilly in the
room, but not uncomfortably so.
The skin around Melissa's eyes was tight, and she massaged her temples to try and soothe the pain.
But this headache had been present since she'd first seen Terry's body lying pale and still in the carriage.
*God, Terry* she moaned, covering her face again. She thought she'd cried all her pain away last night, but
it hurt just as fiercely this morning. Her arms and legs felt like deadweights, and her heart couldn't seem to
beat steadily. Moving towards the small bowl a servant had provided last night, she splashed cold water on
her face.
"Sport," Melissa called, her voice rough. The big cat hadn't left the corner, instead he was
hunkered down and staring intently at the mysterious form. "What are you looking at?" she wondered,
making her way cautiously towards him. Yesterday was fuzzy, and when she saw the little green creature
shaking in the corner, it took her a moment to recall him. The mirror. The memory exploded in her
thoughts, momentarily lightening her grief.
She picked the small imp up and shook him softly. "I remember you. You're the one who got us
into this. You were in my kitchen!"
His tiny mouth disappeared in terror. "Don't hurt me!" he squealed. His voice reminded her of the
Chipmunks, but much higher and more irritating.
"If you answer my questions, I won't hurt you," she said, not quite promising it to herself. He
must've heard the hesitation on her part, because his wide eyes narrowed. "You don't have much choice,"
she hissed.
The imp grumbled, and then shrieked when she shook him again. "Stop doing that!" he pouted.
"That hurts."
"Then answer my questions."
"You didn't ask me any!"
She glared at him, and realized he was right. Ignoring her embarrassment, Melissa nodded
sharply. "Fine, then. What's your name?"
He smiled smugly. "Grojavek."
"Why were you in my kitchen?"
The smile disappeared and he shrugged sullenly. "I wanted to be there."
"But why?" When he didn't answer, she shook him again.
"I'm going to be a great King!" he shouted. "King of your stupid world!"
"King of *my* world?" Melissa's mouth dropped open. "Are you serious?"
"Muklavuk will help me!"
"Who?"
His sigh was so deep and dramatic, she nearly laughed. "He's the greatest imp of all time. He's
helping me. We'll get Her, and then we'll get you!"
Melissa's eyebrows furrowed. "Get who?"
The imp looked away, his face suddenly panicked. She felt his thin fingers twitching, ticklish
against her skin. "No one."
"Who, Grojavek?"
"No one! You can't get Her! You won't!" She squeezed a little, until he choked on his words.
"Don't kill me!" he pleaded.
"Then tell me who she is."
"All right," he said, his whole demeanor changing. "I take you to Her. She wants you anyway. I
tell you everything, if I live." His smug grin was back.
"Why should I believe you? For all I know, you could be working for her."
"No!" he shouted, looking angry. He dropped his voice until she had to lean forward to hear him.
"I kill Her. She used me and gave me up to die. She'll kill me, if I don't kill Her first. I can't kill Her if I'm
dead."
"Fine, you tell me, and I won't kill you."
He giggled, sharp and maniacal, and she almost dropped him. "I don't trust you! You take me
with you, then we both be safe."
Melissa tilted her head slightly, considering it. Wendell would certainly disagree, but the little
imp had a point. Whatever information they could get on this 'Soul Ravager' could only help them kill her.
And she had to die. Melissa would see to that personally.
"Deal. But I'm not untying you." She set up back on the ground, and Sport stalked up to him,
hissing in the imp's face.
"It's gonna eat me!" Grojavek screamed.
"No he won't. We're leaving now and he's not coming with us. You'll be safe enough." She
picked Sport up, and walked out of the room, the imp cursing behind her. A passing servant directed her to
Wendell's door. Melissa knocked loudly.
After a short pause, she heard muffled footsteps and then, "Yes?"
She swallowed down the knot in her throat before answering. "Wendell, it's me. We need to
leave. Now."
"Melissa?" He opened the door and blinked at her. He was wearing a long shirt, and his curls
were tousled from sleep. He looked handsome and well rested, and for some reason it irritated her. "Is
something wrong?"
"Except Terry being dead?" she snapped. He winced and she looked down at Sport, instantly
regretting her words. "We need to leave as soon as we can," she continued, easing the sharpness in her
tone. "That monster is waiting for us, and we owe it to Terry to not waste anymore time. I'm leaving Sport
here, too," she added quickly, amazed she could get the words out. "I want you to take him and make sure
he's safe. He will be safe, won't he?" She looked into his eyes again, desperate for some comfort.
Wendell nodded slowly. "Of course," he whispered.
"Good. Then let's go," she pleaded.
He nodded again. "Let me just finish getting ready. I'll meet you in the entry hall. Antony is
going to give us some supplies, so we have to wait for those."
Melissa shoved Sport into his arms, the cat meowing as she did so. "Leave him with Tony for me.
Please." Wendell nodded, cradling the cat in his arms. She knew she'd never be able to hand Sport over to
a stranger herself. "Bye, Sporty," she said, kissing the top of his head. Any more, she knew, and she'd
burst into tears. She turned, and without a look back, retreated to her room. She could still hear Sport
crying as she shut the door behind her.
**********
Wendell arrived in the entry hall, not surprised to see Melissa glaring impatiently at him. Her
moods from yesterday had apparently been whisked away by this overwhelming need to do something, and
she already looked ready to explode. He feared what the nearly two day ride would do to her nerves. At
least they had the potions. Without them, it would take almost four days, and it was just after lunch now.
"Are you ready?" she demanded once he got close enough.
This trip was going to try his patience,too, he could tell. "Yes. Antony has prepared everything
for us already, he regrets he won't be able to see us off." During their brief goodbye earlier the older man
had nearly started crying. Wendell knew his friend didn't want to have to do it again. "Why is he here?" he
asked, finally seeing the imp.
"Grojavek is coming with us."
"Grojavek?"
"The imp." She had the green creature tucked under her arm, tied with fresh ropes. "He knows
who Soul Ravager is, and where we can find her."
"Inesh said everything we'd need to know was at your home, though. Why bring him? He's
probably lying."
"I don't think he is. Besides, any extra information can only help us kill her."
"Melissa, I really --"
"I don't care, Wendell!" She stepped forward, her eyes flashing stormy gray. "He's coming with
us. I'll deal with him."
"We're in this together, Melissa, whether you want my help or not. I don't want him coming
along. He can't be trusted."
"I trust him."
He bit down hard on his lower lip to keep himself from saying something insulting. "Are you sure
you've thought about this?"
"Jesus Christ," she muttered. "I'm not a lunatic, Wendell. Yes, I'm upset that Terry died, but I'm
mad, too. And I won't let you stop me from going. And I won't let you stop Grojavek from going, either.
You can stay."
"I'm coming."
"Whatever." Melissa turned and strode outside.
Wendell followed, jogging to catch up with her. "Did you eat?"
She glanced at him, then away. "Yeah."
"Truly?"
"No."
He sighed and let it drop. It was easier for him to understand her situation, remembering as he did
what it had been like when his own parents had been murdered. He hadn't done anything for a week, other
than lay in his room all day. And although the hysteria he saw brimming in Melissa's eyes worried him, at
least she was moving around.
They mounted the horses in silence and a servant handed up the half full bottle to him.
"They'll need it ag'n tomorra' afternoon" the man told him. "Be careful, yer Highness."
"Thank you."
The man nodded and backed away, and Wendell urged his horse with a slight pressure. The horse
shot forward and Wendell had to grab on to keep from losing his saddle. The potions, it seemed, were
working.
Glancing behind him occasionally to make sure Melissa kept up, Wendell let the horse run without
stopping. He kept a close eye on both mounts, but neither seemed to need the rest. He stopped once to let
them all drink from a nearby stream and then they continued riding until nightfall, stopping once it got too
dark to see. He went about setting up a campsite and tending to the horses, but they seemed no more
winded than after a normal day of riding. It was a great boon from Antony, and he would have to
remember to properly reward his friend later.
Melissa sat on the ground talking softly with the imp while Wendell moved about them. He
caught a few words as he passed by, but they never meant anything to him. As he stoked the fire to
crackling life, he wondered if she would bother to share his confidence anymore. His heart twisted inside,
and he inhaled deeply to calm himself. The air was warm and smelled of dirt and leaves, but it didn't
soothe the king. Was any hope they had for a future gone now, eaten away by loss and revenge? He
snapped a twig in two and threw both pieces into the fire, and watched them bounce out again, smoldering.
Had the giant killed both Terry and Melissa that day?
He looked over at the woman who was half his soul, wishing he could save her. This need of hers
frightened and worried him, and he didn't have the faintest idea of what to do about it. Or what to do about
Soul Ravager. They had to find the answers in Melissa's home or they would never win. He certainly
didn't trust this Grojavek. It was an imp, for troll's sake! *Not that Melissa would know not to trust him*
he thought to himself. *Does she even understand what her past means?* He watched her as she chewed
aimlessly on a piece of bread, sharing part of it with the imp. She was staring at the fire but her eyes were
glassy and distant. *She's a Princess now, with land and people. But she still has a whole life in the Tenth
Kingdom. One she'll want to go back to, I'm sure.* He didn't think she loved him enough to stay. He
wasn't sure she loved him at all.
Wendell leapt to his feet, ignoring her startled cry and going to the horses. He needed her, like
flowers needed the sun, and yet she would leave him when this was all over and he wouldn't be able to stop
her. If staying made her miserable -- how could he force her into doing so? If he hadn't seen the look in
her eyes the night at Aileen's, he'd be tempted to give up on his love now, not that his heart would let him
do that easily. But there had been something there ... something he hoped she'd recognize.
He pulled out a comb and started brushing down his horse, a big, bay gelding with a wide chest
and long legs. The horse nickered softly, shifting from foot to foot. The steady movement eased Wendell's
pain a little, let his mind release thoughts of the future to concentrate on the present. He missed Teresa,
when he thought of her. She'd obviously been a tremendous woman, and one of the kindest people he'd
ever met. And, in some small way, he'd wished she could have met Antony. They would have been an
interesting pair. Teresa would have known what to say to Melissa, to get her to calm down and just think.
Wendell leaned his forehead against the horse, breathing in the thick scents. Teresa wasn't here.
It was just him and Melissa and this Grojavek, going to face an enemy they knew nothing about. "Well
that's just perfect," he murmured, straightening. He finished brushing down his horse, and then did
Melissa's smaller black horse as well, giving all his concentration to the simple task. It didn't work very
well to clear away his worries, but it passed time he wouldn't be able to spend sleeping.
When he returned to Melissa, she was already asleep, Grojavek lying next to her. The imp's eyes
were open and watched Wendell closely.
"If you lie to us, I will kill you myself," Wendell said softly.
Grojavek squeaked and his eyes rolled back in his head. It wasn't until after Wendell had finished
eating that the imp finally spoke.
"I not lying. I want to kill Her too."
Wendell grunted. "Make sure that's all you do." He ate a small meal and then lay down on his
blanket. Another full day and a half of riding waited for them. More time to think and worry and wonder,
and then there would be no time left at all. He watched Melissa across the fire for a long time, studying her
face, her forehead creased even in sleep. Next to her, Grojavek had finally gone to sleep and was snoring,
loudly for a creature so small.
In Wendell's dreams that night, his worries had free rein. Imps and mermaids and horrific
monsters danced and scampered around him as he held Melissa in his arms. And when he looked down at
her, she was as pale and still as Teresa had been, blood covering her lovely face. He woke up at dawn,
sweating and calling her name.
**********
Grojavek's arms had fallen asleep again. He tried to wiggle his fingers and had no idea if he
succeeded or not. They had been riding all day, and no one paid any attention to him. Of course, no one
spoke more than a few sentences most of the ride anyway. The woman had gotten all of the information
Groj was going to give last night. Now it seemed she was done with him.
*Good* he thought, trying to spit. The horse jolted as he did so, and most of the liquid dripped
down his chin onto his green chest, tickling him. The imp sighed heavily, feeling the rope dig further into
his skin. He would demand that she set him free tonight! This was getting out of hand. Muklavuk silently
agreed with him.
Groj liked being smarter. It made problems like these less scary. Normally he'd be too terrified to
even think about what the night would be like, let alone how he would be making demands. This being
courageous had its good points.
Still, he decided it would have been better to be home rather than in the situation at all.
The two humans stopped the horses for the night, and the woman untied Groj from the saddle,
setting him down on the ground while Wendell did whatever it was humans did when they camped. Imps
always used the trees and leaves and dug in for the night. The humans were much more obnoxious than
that, of course.
Wriggling his shoulders, Grojavek felt life start to tingle back into them, and everywhere they
touched rope, they burned with the magic of awakening. Groj hopped up and down, tears leaking from his
eyes as he giggled at the strange pain. The feeling passed after a torturous minute and he collapsed to the
ground, panting.
The woman sat down next to him and silently untied one of his arms, handing him some food. He
grabbed it quickly, stuffing the stale bread into his mouth. It took him a long time to eat. A big mouth
would be useful sometimes, he thought.
"I want to tell you about Rob."
Groj looked up, but the woman was staring at King Wendell, who had come and sat down across
the fire from them. King Wendell. Groj shook his head, feeling his ears flap softly against his skin. What
terrible luck did he have to run into King Wendell? But then Grojavek giggled happily, earning a stern
glare from the two humans. He looked away from them, his lips still pulled back in a grin. Muklavuk had
helped him turn even that elf-all situation into something glorious. If his hands had been free, he would
have clapped them together with excitement. She would die. All of them would! All but Grojavek.
"May I ask why?"
Stifling his happiness, Grojavek settled down, leaning against the woman's pack so Muklavuk
could listen to the conversation.
"I want someone to know." She was quiet, and Grojavek watched her, but the light from the fire
was unsteady in her eyes. "In case something happens to me with Soul Ravager."
"Don't say that!" The imp thought Wendell's anger was predictable.
"It could happen. And ... I want you to know. I would feel better if I didn't hide this from you."
Humans were such complicated creatures.
"If it helps you..."
"It will." She continued after a quick breath. "Rob and I were married when I was nineteen and
foolish. He was twenty-six, and an established, well-respected actor. And just the most gorgeous man I'd
ever seen. We both liked to party and he was good to me, on the surface. The media -- the newspaper
reporters?" Grojavek and Wendell both nodded in understanding. "They loved it. The newspapers in our
world like nothing better than to pry into actors' and actresses' lives. And when you take the two most
popular at the time ... well, what else would you expect? I think we were pressured into getting married,
almost." She shook her head fiercely. "I'm not going to blame any of my decisions on anyone else, though.
I decided to marry him, and he made the same decision about me.
"The next three years are a predictable story. An on-and-off relationship with lots of passion and
even more fighting. It was the most free publicity I'd ever received. Rob started taking drugs, um, pills and
other things he thought would make him feel better," she looked up, and when Groj looked over at
Wendell, the king was nodding again, "and he started to change. He got crazier. He got meaner, too."
"Melissa-"
"It's all right. This story doesn't bother me anymore. Not after all that's happened."
They were both quiet again for awhile.
"Rob hit me one night. He'd been threatening me for weeks -- that's when I got Sport -- and he
finally just went over the edge. I left immediately, of course. I had enough money and power that I didn't
need to take abuse from him, and Terry would have dragged me out by my hair anyway. He called me a
few nights later, and he was completely sloshed."
"Sloshed?"
"Drunk. He'd been drinking all three days, apparently. Anyway, he called and said -- I'll never
forget it -- he said 'It's all your fault. I hope you're happy, I've done this for you.' Then he hung up. When
I tried to call him back, his phone was off the hook. The next morning, they found the body of a young
woman, hell, a girl really, in the trash outside his property." Grojavek perked up, more interested now that
there was talk of bodies, especially human bodies.
"There was a huge investigation, and he was let off. Can you believe it? Let off. But he had been
the one who called and reported the body, and the police didn't want to arrest someone with that much
power. His last movie had been the top-grossing movie of all time, and they weren't going to fight that
money with only circumstantial evidence. He may have been drunk when he called me, but when he
cleaned up in the morning, he sure got smart. No fingerprints, murder weapon, witnesses, nothing. Just
me. I went into long talks with my publicity agents and lawyers, we held meetings with his people, I had
several death threats sent to my home. Everyone I knew -- every last person, Wendell, even Terry -- told
me just to keep quiet, that to do anything would only put me in danger and accomplish nothing. I *knew*
it was him, though. And do you know what I did Wendell? I did nothing. I let it slide by, and the death
threats, and the press, and the moment passed. And Rob walked free."
She seemed to be having trouble breathing, and Grojavek cursed softly at her for leaving out the
best parts. He had wanted to hear how the woman had been killed, and what this Rob was like. Wendell
stood up and came around to the woman's other side, kneeling down next to her, but she held out her hand
to keep him away.
"I made my choices, Wendell. I don't need any pity, not when that girl died and I kept on living in
my nice house with my perfect life. If you feel sorry for anyone, it should be her. I don't deserve pity.
You don't know what it's like to go to bed every night, knowing you hold the key to someone's revenge in
your hands, and unable to do anything about it." She was staring at the fire, and Groj suspected she saw
only the girl's body.
"That's why you want to go after Soul Ravager."
"Yes." She hissed the word in such a voice that Grojavek shrank back into the folds of the
backpack to hide himself. He had never heard so much feeling in one word.
No one said anything after that, and the fire slowly died while they all sat around it, thinking. The
imp wasn't sure what the other two were considering, but he was looking carefully at Muklavuk's plans.
The woman sitting next to him, his captor now, frightened him almost as much as She did. If he weren't so
sure that the Great Imp King was going to help him, he'd back out now. They had plans that went beyond
what the humans wanted, but Groj wasn't so sure this woman wouldn't just kill him if he betrayed her.
*Do it quickly* Muklavuk advised. *And at the right time.*
*How will I know?* he wailed to himself.
*I will tell you. She is not the only one who knows of revenge.*
The woman re-tied his hand and stretched out on her blanket, while King Wendell sat for a long
time and stared around at nothing. It was boring enough that the imp even started to forget his fear, and he
found himself falling asleep. *Maybe* he thought to himself, just before he started dreaming, *I won't
have to kill the humans...*
**********