Chapter 3

PRETTY MUCH NEIGHBORS:

After spending the entire day and night poking through a forest, familiar though denser still, Sam eventually came upon a path. It led her through the thinner areas until dawn. Yawning, she was just about to find shelter when she saw an enormous shadow looming in front of her. Instinctively, she turned around but no one was there. The shadow was in front of her. Two shadows stuck out of the main bulk of the shadow, which Sam understood to be arms on a decisively larger opponent. The shadow as a whole grew larger as Sam heard breaking limbs on trees and a thunderous crashing in front of her where there was a bend in the road. Quickly, she began thinking of where to immerse herself in. On either side of her, there were thick pines protecting the path. She turned back and ran forwards and just as the shadow disappeared in her line of vision, she lost herself in the densely shrouded pines to her right. She gulped a huge breath and slowed down her tremulous heart beating to a bare minimum. The first being she had encountered in this parallel universe and it was a monster. It was no coincidence.

Ona, however, was nowhere to be found.

'Hm, interesting,' thought Sam, raising her brow. She twitched. The shadow grew, inching closer to where she hid. Whatever it was, it was fast, though Sam had begun climbing the tree in order to get some height on the creature. It was mere feet below her, its head just grazing the branch below her dangling feet. Fortunately, it did not look up, or it was just too stupid to. It paused, sniffing the air and then continued walking forward. At this point, Sam knew it could be no less than seven feet tall. It's breathing was heavy, even as it traveled farther away. It was not a sentinel.

When a minute had passed and the creature was a good distance along the path, Sam crawled down the tree's trunk until she could peer out onto the path. She looked around. There was enough light to show that marks had been made in the dirt road, large circular impressions, like hooves. Sam frowned. Sentinels, in their true form, had hooves. Yet they were never this enormous…or lame. They were bred from the finest specimens of Divinity, alongside the angels. One would not just be so horribly forged. At least, so Sam had believed.

"It's an ogre, I think," said Ona.

Sam twitched. After seventeen years, she was used to Ona's sudden reappearances as well as the sneaking and surprise visitations. "No, it's most likely a troll." Sam walked on the path, following the trail of hoof prints.

Ona cocked her head. "I'm sorry, but how do you know what a troll"

"I don't," said Sam to finalize the conversation.

There was a long pause between the two of them, sentinel and human, as they continued following the path. It had seemed a long time before Ona started to chuckle to herself. Then, the chuckling had grown into fits of massive giggles. She buried her face in her hands. Then, she jumped into the air with her brown feathery wings slapping the air maniacally. She grabbed her stomach and doubled over in the air.

After minutes of this, Sam stopped in her tracks. She glanced up at Ona, her hands on her hips. "What?"

Ona clapped her hands together. "You have no idea what's going on, do you?"

Indignantly, Sam said, "What?"

"You have no idea what it is we're chasing after and that kills you."

Ona's eyes were narrowed and gleamed with criticism. Sassy criticism.

"I'm only human," shrugged Sam. She continued walking, the sounds of the forest erupting in rhythmic time. Suddenly, the sounds stopped. Sam eased up and glanced around. Then, she saw smoke billowing out over the canopy. "Hey Ona, what's that phrase I'm thinking of?"

"Well," Ona shrugged. Then, it hit her. "Where there's smoke, there's fire?"

"And where there's fire, there's people," muttered Sam. She ran. Ona, however, blinked and said, more to herself, "Do you know, you have the strangest appreciation for the human species I have ever seen. And why must you always run?" But Sam was already in the dense forest, trailing after the creature. Ona spread her eagle-like wings and shot out above the trees. "Surely, this should be a good laugh," she said.

Sam was well hidden behind the thickly settled trees as she approached a clearing and the obvious smell of sulfur. She narrowed her eyes. 'Sulfur?' she thought. Her heartbeat increased, as it always did when she knew sentinels were near…or worse. She crept to a tree closest to the clearing. In the middle was an enormous fire cackling and a nearby cabin made of logs was ripped apart. However, there were no people…unless of course they had been devoured.

Sam stood still. Her eyes unfocused and she began to feel rather than think of the sentinels.

A piercing scream snapped her to attention. She ran back towards the path and ran for several minutes until she came to a fork in the road. A buggy had been flipped over and the horses presumably ran off into the woods. A jug of wine was cracked and the contents were gushing out all over the road. However, besides the unsettling scene, all was quiet. "Okay," she breathed. "Now, where did you go?"

Another scream jolted her. "Great," she said. 'If this keeps up….' However, her thoughts trailed off as she ran down the right side of the road. The hoof prints she had been tracking were large, muddy and in some spots, blood had caked the impressions.

"You know, for a big fella, he can book it," said Ona, hovering over Sam. After a long silence, Ona said, "Aren't you going to whip out those wings of yours now? You're overdue."

"You disturb me. Go away before anyone else gets disturbed by the both of us."

Ona stifled a laugh. "And who do you think would be here to gawk at us anyway?"

Sam stared up at Ona with a cold, dead stare not fit for a human. She said, "Don't follow me."

Ona nodded.

With an annoying sentinel dangling in the air in confusion left behind her, Sam continued to follow the tracks until she came upon a steep decline at the edge of the road, which led to a barren gulley, full of nothing but rocks and grass.

She turned and had noticed that shrubs had been pushed back and branches were snapped, underneath which were more tracks. This path went off the main road and circled the gulley, although it was not really a path at all. It just had appeared so after the creature had stomped through it. "Thankfully, he's subtle." After a few minutes' walk, she saw a large clearing up ahead.

From behind a rather large pine at the edge of the forest, Sam peered at the scene. Three knights each wore armor that was distinctive, unique in both shape and color. Closest to her, there was a knight in blue armor, reminiscent of the Atlantic Ocean. His back was to her but she could see the trident he used to arm himself with.

Then, she glanced up at the creature and did a double take. That creature, she noted by its distinctive brown, feathery wings, was, unfortunately a sentinel. However, it was the only characteristic that could clearly define it as such.

The blue knight aimed his trident and a shockingly blue electrical jet streamed out from the narrow tips. The sentinel shook, vibrating furiously…but he didn't falter. If anything, he grew more enraged and began to swing his enormous arms around miscellaneously, causing the knights to dive out of the way.

With one swing, a knight in white armor had been chucked a good meter away, his back landing on a rock mound. He yelped.

"Angus!" shouted the knight in blue.

The knight called Angus waved his hand. "It's okay. This rock…broke my fall." Then he muttered something inaudible to Sam. He seemed to struggle getting up and when he walked, he staggered, a little uneasy on his feet. However, when a boulder-sized hand came flying his way, he immediately ducked, reorienting himself in the fight. He turned to his side; his knees slightly bent and in his right hand gripped the handle of a mace, which he swung around, sending small boulders crashing into the sentinel's back that seemed to appear out of nothingness. Sam frowned. "Kay," she said. "That's interesting."

Suddenly, a third knight appeared, all in red, wielding a broad sword as gallantly as any knight out of folklore and mysticism. However, as he came to strike, the jet emitting from the trident was knocked by the sentinel's wings and slammed the red knight full in the chest. He shook for an instant and then unceremoniously fell backwards. Other than the subtle twitch or two, he remained still.

"Rohan!" shouted Angus. "Ivar, you bloody idiot! Can't you keep a grip on that thing?"

"Not now Angus," said Ivar firmly. "It's not like this is the first time he's been hit by one of our weapons."

"You've practically killed him!"

"Not now, you impish boy! We need to pay attention. Whatever it is, our weapons can't stop it. We need a plan."

"Like how to avoid getting hit by one of your trident blasts?"

"No," Ivar said. "Like falling back and leading it away from the village."

As they quarreled, Sam had already emerged from the forest, but the remaining knights were too concentrated on their random firing and constant bickering to pay any heed. She walked over to the fallen knight. Standing over him, she glanced at his armor. More intricate designs in the shape of dragons were etched in gold. The contrast was quite brilliant, even for armor. 'He must be rich,' she thought. The knights behind her shouted and she turned but they were still obstructed from her view by the sentinel's massive width. "God, he's like a house," she sighed.

The knight on the ground stirred. He groaned, blinked open his eyes and when he pulled focus, he looked up at Sam and frowned. "Uh, hello," he groaned. "Who are you?"

"A friend," she said, holding out her hand. Her real intent was information; however, as she had realized while starting her journey, it was always better to make friends with the people who had weapons. And these knights certainly didn't possess conventional weaponry. "You're Rohan?" she asked on a more personal note.

The knight took her by the forearm and she hoisted him up to his feet, as though it was no real effort at all. "Yes," he said, stunned. "How did you know…?"

"I've been watching you and your friends." She turned to face the other two knights battling the sentinel, now a considerable distance away. "You all look like you could use a hand."

Rohan looked down at her as she spoke. He was at least a foot taller and a majority of his bulk went to muscle strength. Underneath the simple fabrics she was wearing, which seemed very foreign in design, he doubted what strength she had. Although, he had been proven wrong on occasion, especially with the Princess Deidre. He frowned. "I'm sorry, milady, but it's taken the three of us and we still can't bring him down."

There was a brief pause. "You sound as though you've done serious battle before."

"Oh yes," he said. "You could say that again. I mean, ogres and…and an odd assortment of monsters we've had to contend with but even just with one of us we would have the advantage." As he spoke, he looked her over, attempting to determine what manner of clothing she wore. He sighed. "I wouldn't advise going up against that thing…without armor or at least a weapon. By the way, are you carrying anything?" he looked her over to find a concealed weapon.

"Nothing you would find useful," she said, crossing her arms. "But thanks for the advice. Now, if you'll excuse me, sir Rohan, I've got some work to do."

With that she strode off but not without being hounded by Rohan. "Wait!" he said. "You're not actually serious?"

She whipped her head around, her short hair bouncing along with her. "Well, of course I'm serious," she said. Then, slowing down, she said. "I'll explain everything when I'm finished. Just sit tight and make sure you watch your friends. I think they've done more damage to you anyway."

Rohan crossed his arms. "All right, but it's your funeral."

Walking far ahead, she said, "I wish." Then, she stopped short of the sentinel and the two, now hopelessly aggravated knights, dueling with each other. Angus seemed to have taken a nasty shock from Ivar's trident and was fuming under his mask. "You're a menace with that thing, you know," he said.

"Not as maniacal with that reckless aim of yours, of course," responded Ivar as he blocked a hand coming down to slam him.

"Oh, right, of course," said Angus cynically as he slammed his mace into the ground. This sent a massive rippling shock and knocked Ivar off his feet. The creature shook but remained standing. "I'm the one who's been sending blasts into my friends while this thing - what the hell is it, anyway? Some sort of satyr? – This thing has survived everything we've given to him. Right, I'm always the one to blame."

"Angus," Ivar was saying before he stopped himself. He rose to his feet and glanced at Sam. "Milady, are you ill?"

"What's that you say, Ivar?" Angus said, his voice rising.

"I wasn't talking to you." Ivar glared at Sam. "This isn't a safe place for you to be. Get out of here!" He waved his arm for emphasis.

"Well, from what I can tell, it isn't safe for you two either," she said, arms crossed as she stared up at the sentinel.

Now that she was closer, almost touching the sentinel's wings, she realized how horribly deformed it actually was. Though its wings were normal and brown, its arms extended far past its knees and it was very tall, especially when it stood upon its hooves. Its head thrashed about, revealing a stone, skeletal shape, unlike the more conventional human form sentinels took, with hollow eyes, not coal black irises. Yet there was a vaguely reminiscent guardian aura, whether it was in its wings or its short, pointy horns because sentinels, in their natural form, did have horns, unlike demons or angels. "Someone must have dropped you on your head when you were born," she muttered. It pulled its arm back and swung at the knights; however, they all ducked just as its arm came across. It spun around and nearly fell off-balance. Shaking its head, it pushed its way past the knights and continued advancing across the clearing. "Or maybe more than just once," Sam added. Sam began to follow.

"Oi!"

Sam turned her head. "What?"

"Whacha doing here?" asked Angus. Through his facemask, Sam could see his eyes, narrowed and full of suspicion.

She thought. "Working," she said.

"Working? What kind of nonsense is that? You must be daft, lady," he said.

For a moment, Sam nearly smiled at his blunt manner; however, there was a loud groan in front of her. She turned back around and ran after the sentinel.

Rohan had joined them and brandished his broad sword as they all surrounded the creature, forcing it to withdraw into itself. Facing Angus and Ivar, its wings began to flap.

Sam ran around, standing in between Angus and Ivar. The sentinel's head was lowered into its hands.

"What's up with him?" asked Angus, though directing his comment to no one.

"He's gonna fly," Sam said. Angus blinked.

"Although," she continued, "With my luck, I think he's run all out of pixie dust." She had noticed that as the sentinel flapped its wings, feathers fell out as though they were autumnal leaves falling from a branch during a heavy wind. This was generally disturbing to witness. Sentinels were strong and their wings were their pride. For one to let its wings to shed so unceremoniously, it was an indication that this was the product of someone's idea of a twisted, sick joke. Immediately, Sam thought of Knox.

"Pixie dust?" Angus asked, looking at Ivar.

"Don't ask me," said Ivar, glancing at Sam.

She took a step forward. Ivar barricaded her with his trident and Angus blocked her with his body.

She glanced at the both of them. "Let me pass."

"No way," said Angus. "Uh-uh. That thing'll kill ya as soon as look at ya."

"Oh, come now," she said. "I don't know about that. What if I kill him first?"

Angus looked at her, as though for the first time, and with sincere conviction said, "Doubt it."

"Oh, 'you should never, never doubt what no one is sure about,'" she said. However, before she could get in another word edgewise, the sentinel had managed to save enough feathers to lift its poorly deformed body off the ground. "Ah, darn," she muttered. It hovered for a moment and with two enormous flaps of its wings, it soared into the air.

"He got away," said Ivar.

"Blast it!" shouted Angus. "Just when we had him cornered."

Ivar rolled his eyes.

"If you'll excuse me gentlemen," said Sam. Her suit jacket had been tossed aside and she was in the process of unzipping her vest.

"Well, now, that's more ladylike," said Angus. Ivar punched him. "What? Well, clearly you've never been to Derry," he said.

"Nor would I care to, if they fancy you," said Ivar.

"At least our friend's back to his normal self," said Rohan, walking towards them.

Sam breathed. "If stupidity is normal, you are all in grave danger and I'm too late. Hold on to this," she handed her vest over to Angus. "I want this back."

Before Angus could ask, Sam strode into the center of the clearing. A slit running down the back of her shirt flew open, revealing a thin scar line running from the base of her neck to the edge of her hips. She grimaced as the familiar pain of unfolding her wings came to her senses; however, it vanished as soon as she shot up into the air, matching the sentinel's unfathomable speed.

"Whoa – man, would you look at that?" said Angus, ripping off his helmet.

Ivar had removed his facemask and stared, mouth agape.

"She's a bloomin' angel!" cried Angus.

"You know," said Ivar, "Angus for once I just have to agree with you."

"Oh," Angus winced. "Didn't know angels could do that."

"And look!" said Rohan. "It's actually taking her hits."

"It must have some sort of spell cast protecting it," commented Ivar. "Otherwise, I don't understand why our weapons could not have had some sort of effect on it."

"Well, maybe if your aiming was a little more accurate," started Angus as he glanced at Ivar. However, he stopped himself just as he glanced back. He stood back. "She's got him in a chokehold now," said Angus.

"Yeah, but not for long," Rohan said, noting how the sentinel's massive weight and size easily tossed her aside. It flew up, miles away into the clouds and she closely followed. They became so high they were lost in the clouds. The knights seemed to hold their breaths, waiting for something they couldn't explain. However, several minutes had passed by before something began to soar back down to the earth.

"Hey," said Angus. "Is that the…thing or is that…?"

"I think it's the girl," said Rohan.

"She's falling," said Ivar.

They all bolted, running as fast as their armor could allow. Halfway through, they grew exasperated and immediately called off their armor. With agile limbs, they rapidly came to the edge of a cliff, overlooking a steep drop to frigid waters below. They looked up and sure enough, she was still falling, the wings on her back providing her with enough air resistance to slow down her velocity. They watched, uncertain of what to do.

She was still a considerable distance up from the water when she shook herself and regained mobility. The sentinel's hand had landed a heavy blow to her head, which rendered her unconscious for several minutes. She felt her head and a patch of sore numbness swelled just above her earlobe. She looked at her hand but there was no blood. Sam sighed, albeit aggravated, and stared up into the sky.

The knights watched as she slowly crept her way back up into the clouds; however, she stopped, her human body form contradicting the wings that carried her. She turned and flew back towards them, occasionally glancing over her shoulder. She had landed with the grace of a hawk, her boots serving as talons that scraped the ground with swift jerks. She looked at them all and then turned around, searching the skies with her eyes. Her white, cotton shirt billowed open with the wind and a portion of her under garments could be seen. Angus had noticed this first and said aside to Rohan, "I'm checking out an angel. Should this be wrong?" indicating her open shirt.

Rohan's eyes widened and he said, "For all intense and purposes, yes, it should be."

"Yeah, well, shoulda, woulda, coulda, right?" Angus smiled.

Sam noticed Angus's stare and she glanced down at her open shirt, a bit revealing; though to chivalrous knights, now disposed of their shiny armor, this was most probably intimidating. Instead of being repulsed, Sam was somewhat charmed by it. 'I could take advantage of potential enemies. Should this be wrong?' she asked herself. She walked right up to the three knights and crossed her arms, her bosom resting comfortably. "So, what's more surprising, a woman with wings or a woman with breasts?" she asked.

Ivar, who had just barely noticed her open shirt, shook himself. "Oh, well, if it pleases the lady, we are most unaccustomed to someone so striking a figure such as yourself. Forgive my bluntness, but are you an angel?"

A smile she had been attempting to hide vanished all together. Her eyes grew fierce, as if she had been morally offended by his question than their gawking. "I am no angel," she said. "And forgive my bluntness, but I have some unfinished work and my break is over." She had glanced above them and was staring at something in the distance. They all turned around and ducked just in time as the sentinel's hooves kicked in the air. Sam turned around and flew after it. She was close by and reached out her hand, grabbing the sentinel by the hoof. It felt her grasp and kicked out with both hooves, narrowly missing her head. In one swift jerk, she pulled the sentinel around to face her. It looked down at her and emitted a disturbing, high-pitched screeching. She grimaced as she landed a fist in its skull. It fell backwards, jolted by her unconventional magnitude of power.

However, Sam realized that in one hand, it had been gripping the hilt to a dagger, which in Sam's hand was her small sword. She felt suddenly enraged and glared down as she hovered above the sentinel. "Give it back!" she shouted over the wind.

It seemed to shake its head. Sam sighed. "What do you want, then? Hm?" she asked, crossing her arms. "Immunity?" However, the sentinel did not comprehend language, as Sam believed. It gripped the hilt of her sword and bolted by her with an uncanny ability. "I'm gonna take that as a 'no'," she said as she followed after.

It began advancing towards the knights, soaring just above them. The woman was following behind, full of fury and stoic determination. The sentinel led her above the canopy. Her feet barely touched the leaves as she continued to soar down and under the sentinel. When she was close enough, she launched a severe blow to its chest and it staggered back. Sam suddenly had an idea. Nearby, there was another break in the canopy and down below there was the rocky, barren gulley Sam had seen on the way to the clearing. It would just take a simple feint at the right moment. But they would have to be going fast, very fast and at their current position, they were too close to the canopy to get any real speed.

Sam whistled and brought the sentinel to her attention. It cocked its head and opened its jaw, emitting an odd sound. She inclined her head, communicating with it, telling it to follow her. Fortunately, this it understood clearly. She whipped around and flew in the opposite direction. Looking down, the knights were directly underneath, following her with their eyes. Glancing over her shoulder, the sentinel was hurrying to catch up, its jaw opened, hungry for flesh. She stopped and turned around. She shot up into the air leading the sentinel upward until it was so close it reached out with its talons to scrape her boots. She kicked its hand and performed a half-flip in the air, turning the direction around. Now, they were soaring down at velocities so fast, they could easily be liquidated upon impact. "C'mon," she urged. "C'mon, keep focused. Don't look at the knights in shiny armor."

The creature maintained speeds with the woman as she led it away over the canopy of trees. Rohan seemed pensive. "What is trying to do?"

Ivar shrugged, though he answered. "I believe she is trying to lead it somewhere but to where I do not know…or why."

They were sailing, cruising at impossible velocities, like they were experts. Her speed increased as she tucked her wings closer to her body, becoming a solid form with the wind. The sentinel mimicked her and it, too, gained speed. With a slow curve, Sam led the sentinel into the small gulley. Her arms were tight by her sides so that now she was purposefully throwing herself into the valley of rocks below. However, just as she was several feet from the ground, she snapped her body in a sharp turn and flew towards the trees. She turned around in time to see the sentinel's face slam into the rocks. She winced and panted. "Ouch."

"You think we should find her?" asked Ivar.

"She left her vest," said Angus, shrugging the article in front of him. He suddenly frowned. "Hm, interesting," he said.

Rohan saw the familiar gleam in Angus's eyes. "Angus…put it down."

"What? I'm, uh…just taking inventory," he said as he poked and prodded, feeling for inner pockets. For a moment, he became curious with the zipper, a toy that never seemed to cease his enjoyment as he pulled it up and yanked it back down, frowning as it made that unmistakable sound. However, his curiosity was abandoned as soon as he felt a hard lump. He raised a brow. "Well, I'm sure she wouldn't mind me checking to make sure everything she had is still in there…." He trailed off as he flipped it over, found another zipper, yanked it and dug his hand inside.

"Uh, Angus."

"Not now, Rohan."

"Angus."

"Ivar, I told you, I'm just looking."

"And when you find China, could you tell me? I've been looking everywhere for it but have seemed to have misplaced it ever since I made the switchover in Brussels."

Angus stopped rummaging. He bit his lip briefly, removed his hand and turned around. Very slowly. He cowered guiltily until, that is, he saw her with black liquid smeared across her chest and face. Her hands were behind her back and she was swinging on the balls of her feet. He cocked his head. "You look a mess."

She shrugged. "You should see the other guy."

"Why? What…whoa!" Angus nearly fell off his feet as he jumped back. She had held up her arm and in her hand was the head of the sentinel, its jaw dropped, face sunken in and reminiscent of shock. "Ah," said Angus, his entire demeanor changing. "Well, you know, I was only making sure no thieves came across your…eh, clothing while you were away." He handed her vest over and she grabbed it with her other hand, which was not covered in black ooze.

She eyed him. His arms were crossed across his chest and though he was tall, he slouched, as though weighing down with tremendous guilt. His eyes, which were dark brown and full. "And I trust you didn't encounter thieves, then?" she said. She left her vest untouched as it dangled in her hand. Angus didn't answer. "I really have nothing on my person to steal. Better luck next time then…master Angus," she said with a twinge at the corners of her mouth. Turning to her side, Sam discarded the beheaded sentinel, tossing it over the cliff side. It hit the water just as it had smashed into the ground.

"Where are you from?" asked Rohan, his golden locks framing his strong features, much as the brilliant red-flame of a fire encasing the real heat burning blue.

"Across the river and through the woods," she said without blinking. It was more or less a partial truth, one that she had been practiced with for several years since she had begun sliding across the parallels.

"You have no accent," added Rohan thoughtfully.

She shrugged. "So sue me. Would it help to say that I wasn't born here?"

Rohan crossed his arms and breathed heavily; an obvious sign of frustration. "It might but it depends."

"On what?" she asked.

"On where you were born."

Sam held herself back for a moment. It was not a critical decision. This, in essence, was not her actual home. She had known that since the start; however, in all of her travels, on some occasions to the middle ages of Earth history, she had never encountered knights such as these. This told her that this place was more than ordinary because it held a unique significance, a deeper meaning than all of the other places she had been. Then again, it would have been impossible for her to visit every single universe within her life. Even sentinels had difficulty attaining this goal. Most were deterred by a pleasant world full of passionate interests to care otherwise. In that respect, Sam had envied them. But she shrugged away the inconvenience. She made her decision. "Not that it matters…but I was born in Boston, otherwise known as 'the bay state' or shamefully referred to by morons as 'Bean town.' Obviously, I'm not too fond of it," she muttered. They were all frowning. It was to be expected.

"Yes?" she asked, raising her brow.

"Boston?" said Ivar. "I've never heard of it."

"Yeah, and he's traveled the world," said Angus, shaking a thumb towards the black man.

Ivar seemed to be holding Angus in contempt for some reason. He sighed. "Well, if you are referring to my trek across the open seas, then I have had many experiences of foreign lands but truth be told, I am not a conquistador in search of all the lands covering this planet."

"It would have mattered very little then if you were," said Sam. "Because Boston wasn't founded until the sixteen hundreds."

"Excuse me?" said Angus.

She shrugged. "It was the central city located in a colony of the western continent called the United States of America. That colony was called New England and it included the states of Massachusetts, at first, then later developed into such terrestrial areas as the New York and Maine provinces. As the years passed and the descendents of the puritans, selfish wankers who ran away from Mother England, gave up their lives to start a revolution with the king, more states were included as lands further west were discovered. Of course, they weren't actually discovered. It was more or less a savage mishandling of trade agreements among the English invaders and the Natives, idiotically called 'Indians' by a man who spontaneously decided that he had landed on the right country, namely India…but he was before the puritans.

"Anyway, Boston has remained the first city to ever exist in United States' history. And in the year 2004, it was the first city to house the greatest chokers in NBL history…but I'm getting ahead of myself."

Rohan glanced at Angus. He then withdrew his sword and held it at Sam's chest. She glimpsed at the blade as though it were a feather. "If you are one of Maeve's demons, I will not hesitate to slice your throat right here and now."

Sam turned grave. "Then you would be killing yourself in the process."

"Tell us who you really are then…and what's with those wings? Are you some kind of angel? A renegade perhaps?"

"You tempt the wrong human," she said. "I said it already. I will say it again to you but I will say it no longer afterward: I am no angel."

"Tell the truth!" shouted Rohan, stepping forward, pushing his blade closer to her throat.

"Even if I do," she retorted, ignoring the blade as it barely scraped her neck. Instead, she focused in on his eyes, which were light and blue and bouncing with furious curiosity and fear. "Would you believe me or would you rather give in to your temptation to kill me and vindicate it over some false accusation in order to protect your sanity?"

There was a pause between them where even the air was silent as a cool ocean breeze blew by their faces. He breathed, allowing the cool air to calm his mind. "What do you mean?"

"I mean the truth that I know, the truth that I gave to you already, would be too much for simpletons to comprehend. But I gave you more credit than is due, apparently."

Rohan shrugged. "Be careful to judge before you get to know a man," he said with fearless conviction.

Sam broke into a sad smile, not one of mockery but one of sincere depth. "You're more right than you know, sir Rohan," she said. "I wish other men I have met would have thought the same thing." She paused. "But I have told you where I am from; the future. I am not the one whom you should fear at this time. I wish no quarrel with you, only those creatures you have encountered. I was sent here on a continuing mission to send these creatures back to their homes so that they are not interfering with the mortal plane…humans, if you will…when their war breaks out. You can believe me or not but I suggest if you want me to prove myself, you should let me instead of kill me here on the spot. Normally, I wouldn't mind it. In fact, in some cases," she gulped. "I have implored my own death as a means of resolving my commitment to helping those who cannot help themselves for whatever reasons. However, I was led here by the notion that there is a great center of evil brewing here…and you seem to know of which evil I speak."

"Maeve is the only evil thing desecrating this land," he said. "Are you telling us that you were sent from the future to destroy her?" His face suddenly grew wary, as though he feared her answer. His thoughts were of the warrior Draganta; this could not be it, he reasoned. He frowned. "You will answer," he said.

"She is a Queen?" asked Sam.

He nodded, albeit suspiciously. "Yes…what of it?"

"Queen of Temra, she must be," muttered Sam, though Rohan could hear her. Sam seemed to talk with her eyes as well as her mouth. "I do not seek to destroy her…only those who strengthen her evil. They have caused much disruption within the immortal realms," she worded carefully, not hinting towards the greater meaning held within those words. "I have been entrusted with seeing their demise as quickly as possible."

Rohan, slowly, began to nod. "I see," he said, lowering his blade. "We all want the same thing, then?" he asked.

She nodded. "As I said, my quarrel is not with you. In fact, I'm quite restrained from murdering other humans. It's…sort of a morality issue I have."

"And are you human?" asked Rohan.

"I was born with wings but I am still human. That fact alone cannot change." She pursed her lips. She looked at them all and sighed. "Name's Sam Fitzgerald," she added, sticking out her cleaner hand in greeting.

Rohan was hesitant though he shook her hand. "You're a right slap in the face for the rest of us knights. I mean, with the wings and all, you're likely to make someone jealous one of these days."

She stifled a laugh. It was more irony that caught up in her throat than the soft, quick remark. She turned to Ivar and shook his hand and he bowed his head over her hand. "Many thanks." Sam cocked her head. Ivar waved his hand. "I did have my doubts but if you can prove yourself, I am willing to give you that chance. Every man, and woman," he added, "Should have that opportunity, regardless of his or her design."

Then, she turned to Angus and for a moment they stared at each other, like gamblers at the table, determining the other's bluff before the actual call is made. Angus thrust out his hand. "It's good to have you with our troupe, Sam Fitzgerald."

"Likewise," she said, taking his hand. His was coarse and so was hers but there was an edge to her handshake where there was just a firm grip to Angus's hold. He let go but only after feeling her lessen her grip.

"Hey," he said. "Can I ask you a question? Do all women in the future wear pants?" His face was contorted with worry.

She smirked. "You get right to heart of the situation, sir Angus. I like that." She sighed, "Uh, well to answer your question, yes. For the most part, women do adorn themselves in more shapely uniforms. Why, is it such a terrible thing to be denied easy access?"

His face fell. "Oh, uh, no, well, yes…I mean no. Yes, wait," he turned to Rohan for help. "What's correct?"

Rohan just shrugged sheepishly. When Angus turned back around, he was hard put to contain his laughter. Ivar was as well.

Sam stepped forward and pat Angus on the shoulder. "It's all right. I can tell you're accustomed to digging yourself into deep holes."

"More like a cavernous abyss," said Ivar with a smile.

"Uh, Sam," said Rohan, unsure how to address her. "You won't mind if I, or we, ask you some more questions?"

She opened her mouth but paused to speak. Then, she looked more demure and said, "How 'bout a long walk?"

"That's great, hey, what else do women…do exactly? You know, in the future?" asked Angus, leading her back across the clearing.

"Say," she said, as though an idea struck her, "If I'm not too far from my home, then there should be a town near Kells castle."

"The village? Yeah, sure," said Rohan. "We live there."

"Except for time, we're pretty much neighbors then," mused Sam. When they exchanged glances, she shrugged and began walking back towards the skirt of the forests. "C'mon, I'll explain to you on the way everything you need to know. In the meantime, would any one of you fine gentlemen be carrying a flask upon your person? Preferably one containing hard liquor?"