A/N: Thanx SO much to singinstrawberry for her awesome review! it was so specific! and i've heard of your story too, star maiden? i think you've got great voice behind your writing as well. if you like my story, you'll like hers! newayz, RnR pleeze. enjoy!

Chapter 4

The trip took much longer than we intended, because of Ollie and Owen's frequent demands. In fact, it took a whole day longer.

I was asleep when Chris shook me. We had come to our first stop.

Ollie pushed me aside and descended first. We walked up to the inn and exchanged our money for a night's stay.

Inside the Raven's Tavern it was smoky and dirty. A crowded bar was full of drunken, laughing men. One gave me a look and reached to grab me.

I'm of athletic build, strong and sturdy. I twisted the man's arm easily. He howled with pain and let go of me. Silently thanking my father for allowing me to take fencing, (a/n: THAT'S why she was into fencing, singinstrawberry)I walked away from the bar and the men who challenged me to an arm wrestle.

I followed Chris down a hallway that passed the kitchen. There was a scullery boy scrubbing the tiles. I stopped to watch him for a moment.

His scrubbing slowed, his shoulders sagged. There was something awfully familiar...

Then he collapsed.

Red hair.

"Tom!" I yelled. I rushed forward, breaking away from Chris as he tried to restrain me. An older, pockmarked, hideous man came out of the kitchens.

"Lazy boy! What the hell are you doing?" he yelled while kicking Tom hard in the stomach.

"Leave him!" I screamed. I knelt down to the floor.

"Tom," I nearly cried. I smoothed thick red hair off his forehead. His eyes were closed.

"El?" he finally responded.

"Yes, it's me." I replied, relieved

"I lied..."

"About what?"

"I lied, I'm sorry..." his voice full of remorse. He was delirious.

"What are you talking about?"

"My name is Jem."

I wasn't mad at Jem for lying. Why he lied though, that was my first question.

I hadn't heard of many boys named Jeremy. I only remember Aunt Areida tell us a story once that involved a child with that name.

I tossed and turned that night, wondering whether Jem was the prince from my favorite story Aunt stopped telling me years ago. It had always been my favorite. He could easily have been the child from the story; it originated from around the year before I was born. But if that was the logic I was using, it could be any boy a year older than me.

This was stupid. It was just a tale. Legend. Nothing more.

Still...