My Everything

The Mena-cursed song would not leave Cole's head. It had continued to bloom in his subconscious, growing in strength and depth until at last he knew he had to write it down. That was the only way to stop his 'composer's jitters', as Father used to call it. Music gets vicious if you don't let it run free, Cole.

Cole's father had never taught him to suppress these urges. And why should he? Passion was the heart of their work. And passion was a wild, untamable thing.

And so, Cole had allowed these composer's jitters to course through his blood, fingers tapping his leg with the rhythm in his mind. And then he was humming.

That led him to where he was now, pencil in hand, scribbling on the staff paper Kyle had given him as a gift many weeks ago.

Cole wasn't sure why he'd left the paper in his pocket. Maybe because it reminded him of his father.

Note after note, phrase after phrase, Cole composed his song, dragged along forcibly by his untamable inspiration.

It was against Cole's nature to feel like this, so in-tune with his music. But then again... Sage was right there beside him, her head on his shoulder, Chedva babbling and cooing in her arms. So Cole could excuse away these uncharacteristic, happy thoughts for now.

Well...mostly happy. They were still in captivity; Cole's chains serve as an ever-present reminder of this. Father's body was still in Overlord's clutches. Kai was- in every sense of the word- Overlord's slave. Jay and the rest of the gang were still here somewhere, too. And Vara is probably dead.

It was difficult- impossible, even- to be truly happy with all these Mena-cursed problems around him.

But for the time being, Cole felt...content.

Cole smudged the charcoal on his paper, shaking his head unconsciously. Not right, not right... I have to maintain my rhythm. One and two and three and...one and two and three and...ah, there we go. He jotted the correct symbols on the sheet, then took a deep breath and flipped the pages back to the beginning, setting his pencil on the floor. He spread his hands as if he were playing an imaginary piano, then-

"How do you do that?" Sage asked in a tiny whisper. As if she were afraid the shadows would overhear. "It is just figures on paper. And yet it makes sense to you?"

Cole let his hand rest on her leg. "It's...a little strange, I guess," he said, his voice still painful and raw from when Overlord had choked him. "It's a bit like my journal. I am familiar with the words- or notes, in this case. I know the sounds they make, and I know how to string them into a coherent sentence- or musical measure."

"But how do you..." Sage gestured to the staff paper with one hand; her other was occupied with rocking the baby. "...think of what to write?"

Cole shrugged, moving his arm around her shoulders. "The same way that you think of what to say. You have feelings and thoughts, and you convert those into words. Me? I convert my feelings best on paper, or with an instrument."

"Hmm." Sage squinted at his pencil markings, tracing them with a reverent finger. "And what feelings are you communicating with this?"

Cole put his other arm around her and squeezed her fragile body as tight as he dared, kissing her forehead. "That you are everything to me," he whispered. "I love you."

You are everything to me, his father had said earlier that night. Those were Lou's first words to Cole in nearly eight months.

...My everything.

What had happened to Lou? Why had Overlord given up so easily? If he needed Cole's body, couldn't he just have it, regardless of what Lou wanted? What say did Lou have in the matter?

And now that Overlord doesn't have my body, what will he do with us?

This was an unsettling thought. If there was any one thing Cole hated, it was not knowing what was going on- especially where his own fate was involved. And the fate of my family.

Chedva began to whine, and Sage shushed her, grasping the infant's tiny hands as they reached out of the blankets, milking the air.

"Shh," Sage crooned. "I am sorry, child. Just wait a little longer."

Cole closed his eyes, sighing quietly. They were all hungry. If Cole's inner clock was right, then they had been awake in this cell for over ten hours. No one had come with food or water. Both of which Sage needed more than Cole, because she was supplying food for a baby as well as herself.

Reopening his eyes, he set a hand on Sage's shoulder again. "Let me try."

Skeptical, Sage transferred Chedva into Cole's open arms. "She is hungry. There is not much you can do to soothe her."

"Oh, sure there is." Mindful of Chedva's delicate neck, Cole lifted her to his eye level and touched their noses together.

Chedva made a face, then sneezed.

"Shush," Cole said, staring into her wide, bewildered eyes. "I love you, but your crying isn't helping anybody. Please, save your strength. Okay?"

Chedva struggled, mewling angrily.

"Cole, you are not helping," Sage said with a frown. "Give her back."

"Hold on," Cole said, turning his torso away from Sage's grasping hands. "I'm helping lots, aren't I, love? Huh?" He placed a single finger in the center of Chedva's forehead, then slid it down to the tip of her nose. The infant's eyes reflexively closed. She opened them again, giving her father an indignant glare.

"That's right," Cole murmured, repeating the action. Then he blew gently on her face, tracing her ear with his little finger. "We can eat soon, okay? I love you. Shhh."

Chedva yawned, curling into Cole's shirt. He still stroked her ear. Sage looked on, amazed.

Cole gave her a tired smile. "Most ornery child ever. I've got a whole arsenal of tricks to use when she refuses to calm down."

"That was...strange," Sage breathed. "You blew in her face. That always awakened the children I worked with."

"She's a weird kid, to be sure. Can't wait to see what her terrible twos will be like."

If I live long enough to see it. A sick feeling oozed into Cole's stomach, unrelated to his constant hunger pains. He would probably never see his child grow up.

I'll never get to grow a real family with Sage. Overlord will kill us all. A slow death of starvation, most likely. He's so angry, I'd be surprised if I ever saw his face again. We'll run out of oil in this lantern soon, and then we'll die in the dark.

Chedva whined half-heartedly, then yawned.

Imagine that. Having a child that relies on me so entirely. Who I love more than life itself. And Sage...

I will be forced to watch them fade, like flowers in the shade.

Fade. Shade. Cole filed that rhyme for later. He could use it in a poem.

Chedva was not asleep, but she was calm. She turned her head, blinking blearily at the ceiling. At peace, feeling safe in her father's arms.

I should have done more to protect you, Cole thought, guilt raking his conscience. Your faith is tragically misplaced.

But...I suppose having blind faith in a failure like me is better than having no faith at all, for a child of your age. I wouldn't want you to die in despair.

Cole looked at the door which, unfortunately, Overlord had remembered to lock before fleeing the night before. They were trapped.

Or...maybe there was still some hope.

"Sage," Cole said, running an affectionate hand through her dark hair.

"Yes?"

"You aren't chained."

"No, I am not." Sage's brows furrowed.

"But I am," Cole continued. "So...I want you to promise me something. Can you do that?"

"That depends on what you are about to request."

"Escape," Cole said. "If that door ever opens, I want you to take Chedva and run. As fast as you can." He lowered his voice to the faintest of whispers, putting his lips to her ear. "Follow the river to the eastern shore. There is someone there who can help you get to Ninjago."

Sage pulled away, shaking her head. "I will not leave you," she said. "We are a family, Cole. Do not break us apart again."

"I have to," Cole said, cupping her cheek in his palm. "I want you safe."

"You are my life," Sage said, tears in her eyes. "I will not be alone again. I would rather die with you than be free and alone. Also, I have a Blade now. I can protect you."

Can you hear yourself? Cole thought. You sound just like me. My stupid, self-destructive tendencies must be contagious.

"If you die with me," he said, thumbing her wet cheek, "then how are your motives any different from mine when I threatened to commit suicide?"

Sage opened her mouth, then shut it again, her body shuddering with suppressed sobs.

Cole kissed her lips gently. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. The situation is entirely different."

Sage lowered her head, folding her hands on her lap.

"I'm glad that you love me enough to die with me," Cole said. "And I feel the same way about you. But please. You have to think of the baby. Okay?"

"Would you leave me?" Sage asked. "If I was the one in chains, and I asked you to leave with Chedva, would you?"

Ouch.

In the silence following her statement, the door unlocked.

"He wouldn't," Overlord said, striding crisply into the room. A girl tailed behind him, bearing a tray of water and food.

Cole's heart beat faster, and he instinctively held Chedva more securely. The infant yawned again, oblivious to the world outside her bubble of safety.

"He's the hero," Overlord said, towering over them. "No man left behind. Sacrifice, sacrifice... You'd think that he wants to die. That getting hurt is a game." He waved his girl forward, and she set the tray by Sage. "You and the baby are hungry, of course. Eat, regain your strength."

Drawing a new key from his pocket, he knelt and undid Cole's chains. His hands were cold as they brushed Cole's wrists.

"What...are you doing?" Cole shrank away from Overlord's- his father's- looming body. He shouldn't even be here. He was supposed to let us die.

Overlord caught the look in Cole's eyes. His chuckle was low and sinister. "I won't let you die my son," he said mockingly. "I'll have your body one way or another." He switched to the Dark Tongue, turning to the girl. "Nephilim, take the Blades."

The girl Nephilim took Moonsong and Raindancer from the floor and backed toward the door.

Overlord grabbed Cole's arm and forced him to his feet. "See, I'm taking care of your family," he said, nodding to Sage- she hadn't touched her food. "Give her the child and come with me."

Cole set Chedva in Sage's arms. Their eye contact lingered for several seconds before Overlord pulled Cole away.

Run, Sage. The door's open, just run!

But she didn't run. She sat still and silent on her knees, a look of terror on face like Cole had never seen before. Her eyes flitted to the Blades in Nephilim's arms.

"I'll keep them alive," Overlord said. "But only for as long as you cooperate. Are we clear?"

"What are you going to do to me?" Cole asked through clenched teeth.

Overlord guided him toward the open door. "Don't you know what day it is?" he asked.

"Should I?"

"Naturally. You helped me prepare for it last year, or don't you remember?"

A chill shot down Cole's spine.

"Day one of the Transformation," Overlord whispered close to Cole's ear, smiling. "And you're going to be a part of it."

Cole felt nauseous. He could feel his fear rising up like a wave, drowning his rational thought. No, no, no. Run, Sage. Run fast. Then maybe he'll kill me instead-

"Ah. I see he remembers now." Overlord cackled maliciously. "Good. Come along now, I haven't got all day. There are a hundred other boys that need to be Transformed today. We shouldn't keep them waiting."

No! No, no, no! He struggled against Overlord's grip, turning back to Sage. Run, he mouthed. Please, Sage. Run!

Sage blinked as if jerked from a trance. Legs shaking, she stood and made a break for the door.

Overlord let her pass, seeming to flinch, but Nephilim nonchalantly caught the collar of Sage's dress, choking her.

"Go sit down, Hagar," Overlord said, recovering quickly as the girl tossed Sage back into the room. "And stop trying to reach my mind with Sanguine's Blade; that trick won't work a second time."

Cole continued to struggle as he was dragged from the room. Nephilim shut and locked the cell door behind them, Blades glowing faintly in her free hand. Cole could feel Raindancer's distress. Sage's shouts were muffled by the thick stone.

And there was nothing Cole could do about it. He could order his Blade to make a blinding light, but that would only make Overlord angry. Cole would not risk the lives of his family.

Stupid, useless Blade. What good was his little light against the Overlord's darkness?

"What do you think, Dark Knight?" Overlord asked. "Once you've been Transformed, should I make you my new general? Things have been falling apart since that Nindroid killed Kozu. I need a good leader."

Cole was too busy not having a panic attack to reply. I'm going to die. He's going to put me in that water, and I'll die.

Somehow, in the midst of all this chaos, his memory brought him back to only ten minutes ago when he'd been writing that song. I'll never finish it, he thought. I'll die, and I'll never finish it.

I am so sorry, Sage.

"Any minute now," Pixal whispered, leaning down to touch Jay's hot forehead. "He still hasn't woken up?"

Merv shook her head. "I don't see him recovering any time soon."

It had started as a cold in Cyrus' keep. Pixal had forgotten he was even sick, because the symptoms had been so minor.

But now, the added stress from climate change and bodily weakness were making his system spiral into incapacitating fevers, aches, and nausea.

If only we had my brother's Blade to heal him, Pixal thought bitterly. How are we supposed to travel with him like this? And Overlord took Jay's Blade, so we don't even have any self-defense.

Not for the first- or the last- time, she cursed their bad luck.

Jay's untouched bowl from lunch was still on the floor. Merv sat cross-legged, Jay's head on her lap as she stroked his warm, wet hair. It had been several days since his last shave at the White Rose, and his face was speckled with an auburn beard, slightly darker than his hair. He wasn't struggling.

No, Pixal decided, he is entirely resigned. He probably thinks he'll die in this dungeon, choking on his own vomit from this Mena-cursed sickness. There was no fight to stay awake, no attentiveness when Pixal had reviewed the plan an hour ago, directly before Jay passed out. All she'd received from him was a tired, almost amused stare.

Honestly! What is wrong with him? No fever can excuse his depressive behavior lately!

"Any minute now," Merv repeated Pixal's words. "I'm ready. Just tell me when. What does your bird say?"

"Suki," Pixal said. "She says that a woman with a tray is approaching our cell."

Suki, Pixal's eagle, had somehow made the journey to the Dark Island with them. It had been sitting in the trees by the river, waiting for Pixal to catch its signal and give it commands.

After Pixal made the connection, she'd told Suki to make her way through the underground fortress toward them. Because of this, Pixal was able to get a good idea of which corridors would lead them to the front gate.

Suki had also found Cole, Hagar, Kai, and Besai several hours ago. Pixal knew that she could reach Cole's cell quickly enough, but Kai and Besai were directly next to Overlord's chambers on the opposite side of the fortress. Pixal would have to leave those two and come back to rescue them later.

Now, Suki was hiding in the shadows near Pixal's cell door, watching as a woman made her way down the hall briskly, holding a tray with the prisoners' dinner.

Something was off about her step. She seemed...shaky. Nervous. Well, who wouldn't be nervous while delivering food to war prisoners? She isn't our regular slave, though. I wonder what happened to the other girl.

The young woman stopped outside the door and set down the tray, fumbling with her key, hands trembling uncontrollably.

Pixal hesitated, silently asking Suki to get a closer look. Suki obeyed, and Pixal frowned. The woman's hands were bleeding.

Pixal turned to Merv, and gestured with a hand to Jay.

Merv nodded, taking Jay's body in her arms and standing.

She is strong. Amazing, for someone so spindly.

But then again, Jay's even skinnier. No one would have trouble carrying him.

The lock clicked, and the bolt slid up.

The plan was simple in its construction. The door would open. Pixal and Merv- carrying Jay- would run out and shut the door, locking the slave in. Then they would take the key- it was the same key for every cell, Pixal had learned from Suki's spying- and find Cole and Hagar. They would break them out, and then run for the entrance.

With any luck, Cole had been left with his Blade. So with his help, they would have a chance of making it past the guards to the doors aboveground, since Jay didn't have his Blade. And then they would run, losing any pursuers in the trees by the river.

What they would do after that, Pixal had no idea. Jay needed to heal, and they needed to find a place to hide until they could come up with a plan to rescue Kai and Besai.

The woman pushed the silent door open. She stepped in with her tray.

Now!

Pixal charged, taking the key- slick with blood- from the woman's hand. She shoved the slave further into the room, where she fell to her knees, tray spilling.

"W-Wait!" the woman cried out, amber eyes wide with alarm. "Wait, please!"

Pixal ignored her. "Come on, Merv," she said, turning. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she smiled grimly. I haven't felt this much thrill in a while.

Merv hesitated, looking at the woman.

"No, Lady Pixal!" The woman struggled to her feet. "You must-"

"Be quiet," Pixal said, flipping the key in her fingers. "I don't want to get caught. Merv, why aren't you coming?"

Merv spoke slowly. "She...speaks your language. And she knows who you are."

"She must have been captured recently," Pixal said.

"Yes," the woman said, brushing blond hair from her face, leaving a streak of red on her forehead. "P-Please, can you give me one minute to explain? It's important."

"No," Pixal said.

"Yes." Merv gave Pixal a stern glare. "We can spare a minute. Close the door."

Staring daggers at Merv, Pixal pushed on the door, leaving it open just a crack.

Merv set Jay on the floor and helped the woman steady herself. "What is your name?" she asked.

"Yuki," the woman answered. "Me and my brother, Senzo, were taken over a week ago. I-"

"Why are you here in this cell, interfering with our escape?" Pixal interrupted.

"I was going to let you go," Yuki said, tears in her eyes. "But I had to give you some this first." She pulled Jay's Blade out of a pocket in her dress.

Pixal took it, dumbfounded. "How did you get this?" she asked.

"It was in Overlord's bedroom," Yuki said. "I found it while looking for the key to your cell."

"…Thank you." Pixal pocketed the weapon.

"Of course," Yuki said quickly. "But...Senzo, he...is in big trouble. He wasn't supposed to leave the Knights with their Blades."

"I'd wondered about that," Pixal said, crossing her arms. "A stupid mistake. He was punished?"

"Pixal," Merv said softly, "look at her arms."

Yuki jerked her hands back. "I'm fine," she said unconvincingly. "Hear me out, please. I don't have much time."

"Do you want to come with us?" Merv asked. "You can, if you want."

Yuki let her arms fall limp at her sides. "I wish you would stop interrupting, so I could finish explaining."

Pixal ordered Suki to keep an eye out for approaching patrols. She nodded for Yuki to proceed.

Yuki closed her eyes, probably trying to suppress a wave of emotions. "Senzo had hoped that, if he left you with your Blades, you would fight back and defeat the Overlord. But you didn't. After Overlord realized what Sen did..."

Pixal looked again to Yuki's dripping hands, which left puddles on the floor where she precariously swayed. She's lost a lot of blood. I'm sure the only thing keeping her on her feet is adrenaline from whatever frightful thing Overlord did to punish her.

"I want to come with you," Yuki said. "But I can't leave Sen. He's hurt. Badly. I need to stay with him."

"And you're not hurt?" Pixal asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Overlord cut my arms. I'll be all right." Yuki almost lost her footing. She took another deep breath. "Don't try to rescue your comrades. They-"

"What do you mean?" Pixal's heart lurched.

Yuki pointed to the door. "I mean that even if you found Lord Kai, his wife, and Cole, they would be unable to go with you."

Pixal grew impatient. "What's wrong with them?"

"I…hardly understand it myself," Yuki answered. "But please, just trust me. Leave them for now. And...promise me one thing."

"Yes?" Merv prompted.

Yuki's eyes were round and desperate. "Sen almost died giving you a chance to defeat the Overlord," she said. "Please, don't let us down again." She looked down at Jay. "Heal him as soon as possible. If you don't return soon, I fear you will run out of chances to do so.

"Don't run away to Ninjago again. Fight back."

Pixal nodded. "I'll do my best," she said. "Come, Merv. Suki says we're clear."

Merv scooped Jay into her arms and walked to the door. Turning, she spoke to Yuki. "What will happen to you when Overlord finds out we escaped?"

"I'll...be fine," Yuki's voice wavered uncertainly. "Lock me in. I'll make it seem like you took me by surprise."

"That was my original intent regardless," Pixal said. "Thanks, Yuki."

Yuki smiled halfheartedly. "Good luck."

Pixal and Merv left the cell, locking it behind them.

May the First King guide your steps, Pixal thought, an unexplainable gnawing guilt in her gut.

It didn't take long to reach the front gate of the fortress. Pixal and Merv stopped around the corner, narrowly avoiding being spotted by the two stone warriors on duty there.

Merv looked to Pixal, eyebrows raised. What do we do? her expression said.

In the corner of Pixal's eye she saw Suki, eyes glowing faintly in the darkness of an alcove where a lantern had burned out.

We'll do something stupid and risky, of course. Pixal sent a mental command to her bird, accompanied by a little prayer to the First King. Come on, girl. Show them your stuff.

"Pixal?" Merv whispered.

Pixal held up a hand. Wait, Merv. Just wait.

With a terrifying screech, Suki lifted into the air, powerful wings carrying her around the corner. Merv leaped back, gasping.

The guards stumbled backwards in shock, weapons raised haphazardly. One called out in the Dark Tongue: "Gurrah-kah!"

That's right. Spirit of pain. Run, run, run, you little cowards. Pixal's knees bent slightly as she prepared to make a break for the exit.

"Freedom, Merv," she said as Suki, using her laser eyes, chased the stone men down the hall. "One. Two. Three. Go!" She charged the door, Merv close behind. Suki did a one-eighty and flew overhead, her wings brushing both sides of the hall as Pixal shoved the heavy stone door open.

Rain crashed down on them as they ran down the muddy path outside. Not good, Pixal thought. This will only make Jay's fever worse. We need to get somewhere dry fast. She looked east, picturing in her mind the river. Will it even be crossable in this weather? It's probably flooded.

"What now?" Merv asked. They reached the end of the path. A few slaves were in the grove, ignoring Pixal's company. No stone warriors in sight, no pursuers from the underground fortress behind them.

Odd...

Suki struggled to stay airborne in the strong wind. Thunder rolled overhead.

Pixal pointed east. "Let's go," she said. To Cole's cave.

In the Middle Realm, the weather was finally clearing up. Patches of blue stretched through the clouds like gashes cut by giant swords. A gentle breeze from the west blew snow from the trees.

The air was dry, salty, and smelled of refuse. Zane tied a scarf over his face to mask the scent. It was bothersome not being able to modify his sense of smell, like Pixal could.

The slums. This was the last place Zane wanted to be. But he was running out of options. Garmadon's condition wasn't any kind of poison he knew, nor was it a disease. Not a conventional disease, at any rate.

That's why Zane was in this accursed place; the poorest district in the Middle, only a few miles from Ninjago's capitol. Where the poor were given materials by the King to fish, but only under the condition that half of their wares went to the King's treasury and table.

Zane looked again at his slip of paper, on which was scrawled the name and address of Prince Wu's only son, Lou Hiroto.

What would drive Prince Lou to live in a place like this? Zane wondered, weaving his horse around a few raggedy children playing in the middle of the road. He could have had a life of luxury. Or even a mundane middle-class life. But instead he lives here.

Or lived. Zane wasn't sure what he'd find once he reached the house described on his sheet of paper, given to him by Queen Misako.

After all, the royal family apparently hadn't communicated with Lou for twenty years. When Zane had asked why, Misako changed the subject.

That's not important to our task, she had said. Right now, the only thing that matters is finding a cure.

It was a long shot, calling on the nephew of the King to see if there was some hereditary disorder to explain Garmadon's actions. But Zane didn't know what else to do. He had scoured every book in the country: old, new, even banned material. He had consulted with every doctor, herbalist, and shaman. They all turned him away empty-handed. Even the Priests did not have an answer. Or, more likely, they were afraid to speculate: with Prince Lloyd's death and Garmadon's madness happening so suddenly, the Priests seemed to fear that their First King theology wasn't as sound as they'd hoped. But, of course, they wouldn't admit to that.

If I don't find an answer within the week, Zane thought, squeezing his horse through an alley, then I will have to quit. My poor father is under so much stress right now. I cannot continue to ignore his needs.

Lord Julien had been under intense pressure as of late, making up for Garmadon and Kaytake's...slack in leadership. Plus, being one of the best doctors in the country, he was expected to duplicate Cyrus' cure for the blood plague. A lot of responsibility to carry on such frail, old shoulders. Zane knew he should be helping carry the burden.

Zane paused at the end of the alley, looking at the road before him, then back at his instructions. Third house on the left... Second floor.

The street itself was deserted, though smoke rose from most of the chimneys. Somewhere nearby he heard someone playing a guitar.

Music. This was not the first time he'd heard it since entering this district. It seemed that the people here preferred music for their entertainment in the winter months, when everyone was stuck indoors. It does happen to be one of the cheapest forms of entertainment...

At the correct house, Zane dismounted and patted his horse's shaggy shoulder. The poor beast had carried him all over the country these past few weeks. But this breed had been created specifically for its endurance, especially in the winter months, so Zane was not too concerned about it burning out.

"We'll go home soon, Devi," he murmured in the horse's ear, scratching it gently. "Stay here. I'll be back." He dropped Devi's reins- the horse was trained to stay put. And he wasn't worried about someone stealing Devi, since his falcon could easily pick up her trail and guide Zane to her.

With a prayer to the First King for luck, Zane approached the door and knocked on the old wood.

The door opened cautiously a moment later, revealing a woman in a tattered shawl. A toddler sat on her hip.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked, her accent strange yet...familiar. Where had Zane heard it before?

"Good afternoon, Zane said, smiling before he realized he was still wearing his mask. He pulled it down, smiling again. "Ah, I'm looking for Lou Hiroto. Is he in?"

The woman hesitated. A blue-eyed man came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Who is this, Gwen?" he asked. He noticed Zane's horse and frowned. "We already paid our taxes, sir. Please stop harassing us." He moved to close the door.

"No, wait!" Zane held up a gloved hand. "I'm not with them." Well, I am with them, but- Oh, by the First King. I must stay focused!

The man paused, giving Zane a hard stare.

Zane cleared his throat. "I'm looking for the Hiroto family. They wouldn't happen to live here still?"

The man guffawed. "Not in fifteen years," he said.

"So you knew Lou?"

"Yeah, when I was a kid."

"Please," Zane said, "when did you last see him?"

"Three years ago," the man said. "Honestly, why is everyone so interested in this guy all of a sudden? You're the second person today."

Zane hesitated. "Someone else asked about Lou?"

"Yeah, a woman." The man whispered something in his wife's ear, and she nodded, retreating to the house. "Will that be all, sir?"

"Um, no," Zane said. "I have one more question. Do you know where he could be now?"

The man shrugged. "His family's a little...strange," he said. "Nice, but strange. Last I heard, they were practically nomads. Wandering the country, performing music for food. That kid of theirs..." He smiled. "...his music was amazing. Like he'd been blessed by the First King himself."

He shook himself out of it, becoming serious again. "Well, goodnight. And good luck."

"May the First King be with you," Zane said dully, turning back to his horse. He grabbed a fistful of her mane and hoisted himself into her back. "If there's any one thing that runs in the First King's bloodline, it's insanity, eh, Devi?"

The horse snorted.

Zane sighed, shaking his head. "Nomads. How am I supposed to find a group of music-playing nomads that haven't been seen in three years?"

"You're not," a voice said behind him, spooking the horse.

Zane pulled on the reins to stop Devi's prancing, then pulled her head around to face the speaker.

A tall woman stood in the snow, wearing no hat, mask, or gloves, exposing slender, pale fingers and short blonde hair. Just looking at her made Zane feel cold.

"Why not?" Zane asked. "Hey, you're the one who asked about Lou before I got here, aren't you?"

The woman nodded, smiling like a ray of sunlight. "Walk with me, Milord," she said. "I'll explain everything I know about Lou Hiroto."

She began walking, not looking back to see if Zane had followed.

"Hold on," Zane called out, "I don't even know your name! How can I trust you?"

The woman whirled around whimsically, like a dancer. "My name is Josi," she said. "And you'll just have to trust me. You won't get the information you need otherwise."

She twirled once, then continued walking.

She's a fruitcake, Zane thought. A colorful, pretty fruitcake.

…But I need whatever information I can get.

He nudged his horse forward. "Wait for me," he sighed.