As the sun began to set, they reached the outskirts of the village. In the fading light Aria saw small, simple homes stretching out before her. They were spaced unevenly, with wide paved roads running between them. It didn't look as though they had much in the way of advanced architecture, but the small houses were fairly well constructed, made out of a combination of stone, wood, and some sort of mortar or clay. Looking closely she though there were some kinds of personal touches on some of the homes, but it was difficult to tell. Daylight was quickly fading. There seemed to be streetlights of some kind by the roads, but they were few and far between.

Aria was baffled. The homes didn't look much more modern than the middle ages, and there didn't seem to be vehicle tracks of any kind. But they had some form of electricity, hence the streetlights. She was curious, and considered asking her uncle a few questions concerning these people's technological capabilities, but before she could she was distracted by what sounded like a horse coming up from the direction they had just come.

They both turned to find a black-armored figure on horseback approaching them. As he drew near, he shouted out, "Oi! You two! It's past curfew!"

Although the man looked imposing, he seemed more irritated than angry – as though they were a couple of hoodlums running amok after hours.

Aria's eyes widened and she looked to Press for guidance. He seemed calm enough, if slightly surprised. He responded genially enough, "Our apologies. We've been traveling and only just got back to the village. We intend to stay at the inn. If you don't mind my asking, when was a curfew implemented?"

The guard paused, looking at him in surprise. "The curfew? It's been in place for weeks. Where have you been?" He seemed slightly suspicious at this point, and Aria shifted uncomfortably. What was their story? She hardly supposed they could tell the guard any semblance of the truth. He would either laugh at them, mark them as crazy, or arrest them for suspicious behavior. Before her uncle could respond, however, a second guard rounded the corner of one of the homes, saw them, and stopped. Aria grew more concerned. Suppose they had to run? There were guards on either side of them, now.

Run? Forget that. I'm so tired I can barely walk at this point, let alone escape two guards on horseback!

However, Aria's concerns were unfounded. He sounded genuinely happy to see them. Or rather, happy to see her uncle. "Press!" The guard shouted. "It has been a while. How did your journey go? You have been gone more than three months. I hope nothing went awry?"

The suspicious guard looked back and forth between Press and the friendly guard in confusion. "You know these two?" He asked.

Mr. Friendly glanced at Aria and said, "Only the man. The girl I'm unfamiliar with. A friend of yours, Press?"

Press smiled and responded, "My niece, from the village over the mountain." He clapped a hand on her shoulder. "She's a bright girl, and I thought she may be able to help the situation arising in the village." He winked at her. She decided to stay as silent as possible, so as not to blow their cover. She simply looked at the guards, smiled, and nodded.

The two guards studied the two travelers for a moment. Finally the first guard relaxed and shrugged. "Well, either way, you're out past curfew. There are dangerous animals in the forests, and with our supply of Tryptite dwindling as much as it is, we can't afford to keep the village well-lit enough to keep them out."

Press nodded. "So I take it the Tryptite shortage has gotten worse?" Aria wondered what this Tryptite stuff was, until she realized that it was probably the stuff the streetlights were made out of. It would explain why there were so few of them if there was a shortage. There was barely enough to keep people from bumping into the houses.

The friendly guard nodded. "Indeed. Let me escort you to wherever you're going." Then he added hastily, "For your safety. As Jorith said, there are some dangerous beasts out there." He looked at them in trepidation. Aria wondered why.

Aria blinked and nodded without saying anything. She gave him a slight smile, as did Press, and the guard relaxed. Press thanked him and told him their destination, and they set off. The first guard – Jorith – looked after them for a moment longer and took off in the other direction, waving them goodbye and gruffly wishing them a good stay. "And don't let us catch you out after curfew again!" He shouted in irritation.

Aria glanced up at Press in confusion, jerking her head in the direction of the guard. He had been very awkward when offering them an escort, as though worried they may be offended by the suggestion.

Press glanced down at her and said, "So, I take it you didn't understand any of that?"

Aria blinked in confusion. She may have been new to this place, but she wasn't that lost. "Uhhh, I'm not exactly familiar with local politics, but it seems like they're low on Tryptite, which I assume is that light-giving stuff," she said, pointing to one of the streetlights as they passed beneath it. "And because of the shortage, there's been a curfew put in place so people don't go walking around at night, using it up. Oh, and there are dangerous animals."

Press looked fairly surprised. "You mean you understood everything they were saying from the get-go?"

Of course she did. But it seemed that, for some reason, she wasn't supposed to. "Well, yeah. They weren't exactly speaking another language."

This seemed to pique his interest. "Actually," Press said, "they were." Aria just blinked at him again, uncomprehending, and he continued. "They weren't speaking English. They were speaking the language they evolved on their territory. In fact," he added, "it doesn't really sound anything like English."

"It sounded like English to me," Aria said.

Press nodded, looking at her appraisingly. "Apparently. Normally, Travelers who are new to the lifestyle have trouble picking up the ability to understand the tongues of the people of the territories. It takes them a little while. Then again," he said as he looked away reminiscently, "You have always been an excellent listener."

Aria shrugged. It was true. She had a certain gift for understanding people no one else could – like when she baby-sat. When children are just learning how to talk, and aren't really speaking coherently, most people tend to ignore them. Even their parents, more often than not, just spend all of their time correcting them and trying to teach them to speak properly (what do you expect from a two-year-old? Iambic pentameter?) Aria was never like that. When she baby-sat small children, she would listen to them intently when they spoke to her. She wanted to know what was going on in their minds, try to understand what they were thinking. As a result, she was rather good at it, and the children loved her. It was the same with the old and senile, or the mentally impaired. Aria could pick up on what they were trying to say quicker than anyone else – even their caretakers, usually.

Apparently it helped her with this weird, universal, omni-lingual translation stuff, too.

Aria yawned. She was tired. Really tired. That tends to happen when you come down from several consecutive adrenaline highs.

She watched the black-armored knight in front of them grow harder and harder to see as night fell proper. Soon he was just a vague shape in front of them, only recognizable when he walked under a streetlight. It was a good thing the streets were smooth and wide, otherwise Aria would have fallen on her face half a dozen times. It was strange being in a world that wasn't constantly lit. Lumis was pretty rural by California standards, but there weren't many places you could go that weren't covered in streetlights, porch-lights, headlights from cars, or other kinds of artificial illumination, unless you walked straight out into the nearby woods.

The darkness made her feel isolated, and she was glad her uncle was with her.

She recalled him saying they were staying in an inn, and asked him how far of a walk it was. "Not much farther," he said. He probably knew how exhausted she was. Sure enough, as Aria was pleased to see, it was only about five more minutes before they came upon a building that was larger than the others. It was rectangular in shape, a single story, and it looked warm and inviting. There were light-posts lining the walkway, and hitching posts and water troughs in front of it. It didn't exactly look like a Holiday Inn (or even a Motel 6 for that matter), but Aria practically salivated at the thought of a hot meal and a warm bed. The knight smiled at them and bid them welcome to the village, then lingered around until they got to the door way. Aria felt that it was a polite gesture, like walking someone out to their car after a visit. She smile and waved goodbye to him, and he did the same.

The inside of the inn was a bit primitive, but comfortable. They were in what looked like a commons room, with chairs and tables scattered around, and a roaring fireplace in the back. The moment they entered, a short, gruff looking man looked up from the book he was reading. He stood up, marked his place, and strode over to them. "Need a room?" he asked gruffly.

Press nodded. "Hi, Kren. Yes, and a couple of hot meals, if it's not too much trouble." He reached into a small leather bag at his hip and drew out a handful of small, round objects. He tossed the man a few, who caught them and turned towards a door in the back, grumbling to himself.

"Not too much trouble, he says…" And the rest of what he said grew unintelligible as he moved further away from them. He barked over his shoulder, "Take any of the bloody rooms, they're all open!" And with that he disappeared through the doorway.

Aria looked at Press, who smiled at her, although he looked slightly uneasy. "Let's sit and wait for dinner, then we'll find a room and hit the hay." Aria nodded, plunking down on the first chair she saw and wincing. That sled seat hadn't had much in the way of padding, and she was sore. Press sat, and quickly became submerged in thought. They sat in silence until the inn keeper came back with a couple of lukewarm bowls of stew and some bread, setting them down in front of the two with a dull thunk. He grumbled something about his wife as he walked away. He went back to sitting by the fire, glared at them once more, and then continued reading his book.

The two ate, Aria practically inhaling the stew, barely even noticing the taste. It wasn't gourmet, but it wasn't terrible either. It was edible. She nearly choked on the bread trying to get it down, then noticed her uncle watching her with a raised eyebrow. She grinned sheepishly and slowed her pace, trying not to make too much of a pig of herself. He dipped his bread in the stew and ate them together. Aria ate one, then the other, keeping them separate. After a while, Press spoke up. "There's something I need to ask you, and it's important." He waited for Aria to finish chewing.

She swallowed, curious, and said, "What's up?"

Press looked her in the eye and said, "Who do you trust most back on Earth? Who would you want, more than anyone else, to know what was happening to you?"

Aria didn't even hesitate before saying, "My parents." Most kids nowadays couldn't stand their parents. They had dysfunctional families, or abusive moms or dads, or any number of other things wrong with their home life. That couldn't be farther from the truth in the Callahan household. Aria didn't just love her parents, she liked them, too. She enjoyed hanging out with them whenever time permitted, going out to lunch or to the rock quarry with them, or treating them to ice cream whenever she'd finished a big job. They always thought it was weird, the idea of their kid buying them ice cream, instead of the other way around; but they always let her do it because they knew it made her happy. Besides, she was very fiscally responsible, and could afford it.

However, Press shook his head and said, "Nope. Won't work. Who else, besides family?"

This confused her a bit, but after thinking about it for a moment longer she said, "Kar Kidsby. You remember her, right?" It hadn't taken Aria long to come up with Kar. Her real name was Karin, but she hated the name because it sounded too normal. Kar was literally one of the only two people in the entire town of Lumis who spoke to her. Her and Thomas "Tommy Gun" Welch. The three of them made up the outcasts of Del Aurum sigh school, and were all tormented on a regular basis by Jenna Jordan and her posse.

Press grinned and said, "I remember." He had taken Kar with them on a few of their outings in the past, and one time she had managed to get stuck at the top of a colossal pine tree, saying she was looking for Jubjub birds. Uncle Press had had to climb up and help get her down. Another time she had climbed to the top of a heavily guarded national landmark and gotten halfway through a Navajo rain-dance before she found herself surrounded by security guards screaming at her to get down. They had been about to tase her when Uncle Press showed up. He somehow managed to calm all the security guards down and convince Kar to get off the monument.

She was very eccentric, to say the least.

Aria tilted her head at him, nibbled a bit more bread, and inquired, "Why do you ask?"

Press paused for a moment, then said, "It will be important for you to write down what's happening to you, and you'll need someone to take care of these journals for you."

This got Aria's attention. For Kar to take care of her journals, the journals would have to get to her. If there was a way for the journals to get home, there was a way for her to get home.

Press saw the interest in her face, and said cautiously, "I'll let you get started on your journals tomorrow, but tonight you need to rest. It's been a long day. Besides, I don't have any paper." He shrugged, popped the last bit of his bread into his mouth, and stood up. "Time for bed."

Aria was keen to know how he intended to get the journals back to Earth, but the moment he said the word "bed", fatigue hit her like a tidal wave. She nodded, quickly cramming the rest of her food in her mouth, and followed his example. They bade the inn keeper goodnight (he grunted irritably at them) and walked down the hall to find a room. What the inn keeper had said was accurate: they were all empty. As they ducked into one of the doorways, Press spoke, slight concern lacing his voice. "You know, it is odd that there are so many open rooms. Normally they're at least half full of Bedoowan from the neighboring village, here visiting friends or family."

He seemed perturbed. It sounded like when he had left, these Bedoowan and Milago characters had been getting along with barely a hitch. Now they were…well, not.

The room was fairly dark. There were two beds, one on either side, and a small table next to each. It seemed that what Uncle Press had said about them hitting the hay was accurate as well. The beds really were just hay covered with leathers. A thick cloth blanket lay on top of each one, as well as a small pillow. Aria didn't even hesitate before collapsing onto one of them, kicking off her shoes, lying down, and drawing the blanket over her. Press came over, placed a hand on her on the shoulder, and said, "Night, kid. Get some sleep, because we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

Aria yawned, eyes already heavy, and asked, "What are we doing?"

Press's eyebrows creased. He walked over to his own bed and sat down, kicking off his shoes. He looked out the small window between them, and said, "We're going to figure out what's going on here."

Aria was already asleep

As Aria struggled out of sleep, she clung to the remnants of an odd dream. Something about running through a bunch of tunnels after a dark figure. She recalled having cornered him, but for whatever reason, she had been the one who had felt like she was out of options. There had been more, but it was hard enough hanging on to that much.

Finally she cracked an eye open, expecting to see the ornately painted walls of her bedroom. She didn't.

Her eyes flew open and she sat bolt upright in bed. Looking around in a panic, she tried to piece together where she was. After a moment, it all came flooding back to her and she exhaled as she relaxed. Then she panicked again.

Press was gone.

She looked around, not that there was anywhere for him to hide in the small room. She started hyperventilating, then she forced herself to calm down and tackle the problem mentally. First step: isolate the problem.

She was in a strange village, on a strange world, and knew absolutely no one here except for her uncle.

That brought her to the next issue – her uncle was gone.

She took a deep breath and looked around. There was no sign of a struggle, and, tired though she was, she would have heard the sounds of one at any rate. He hadn't been taken, which meant he most likely left willingly. She had just come to the conclusion that he was probably only stepping out for a few minutes, or sitting in the common room eating breakfast, when she saw that his bed didn't look like it had been slept in. This worried her. Had he grabbed another room? She couldn't imagine why. She had no trouble sleeping in the same room as him – they had often shared a tent while they were camping. When they needed a tent at all, that was.

She shook her head. He was probably just out in the common room. She stood up, wobbled a bit, still disoriented from sleep, and went out to find Press.

She expected him to be sitting near the fire, eating breakfast, ready to playfully scold her for sleeping in so late. Instead, the only people out there were a couple of knights, who were sitting around discussing something, and the innkeeper, looking surly as ever. He glared wearily at her as she walked out. He looked like he hadn't been up long, either.

"Excuse me," Aria said, "Was my uncle out here earlier?" She took care to be exceptionally polite. He looked like he might throw something at her if she irked him too much.

"Nope," he grunted. He didn't say anything else.

She suppressed her impatience and growing concern. "I see…well, is there anywhere he might have gone?" Again, she put on her most calming, polite demeanor.

"Might've gone to hell, same place I wish you'd go," he barked impatiently. Aria winced, and decided that she wasn't having any luck. She murmured a quick, awkward, 'thank you', and walked over to the two knights. They might have seen him.

Their helmets were off, so she could see their faces, and the tired concern on them. They both looked to be in their late twenties or early thirties, both pale, one with shoulder-length brown hair, the other short, tousled blonde. They looked up as she approached, seeming a bit surprised to see a tired-looking, anxious young girl approaching them.

She froze up a bit as she began to talk. "E-excuse me, have you seen anyone else in here this morning? A tall man with longish brown hair and brown eyes?" Her anxiety wouldn't let her stay still, and she shuffled uncomfortably as they looked at each other.

After a moment of silence the blonde one, without saying anything, pointed at his partner. Aria realized that the first knight matched the description she had just given. She smacked her palm to her forehead.

"Uhhh…right. Anyone else?" She squirmed uncomfortably as they started to laugh. She knew the laughter was lighthearted, but back at Del Aurum, laughter in her vicinity was more often aimed at her, and with malicious intent.

Spotting her discomfort, the two knights stopped quickly, giving her an apologetic smile. The brown haired one who shared her uncle's description said, "I'm afraid we're the only ones who have been in here for the past hour, aside from ol' Kren," he added while jerking a thumb at the innkeeper. He was counting out small, round objects like the ones her uncle had tossed him last night. Obviously a form of currency.

"I see...er, well, thank you for your help," she mumbled. "Have a nice day." She quickly turned around and headed back to the room, more to get out of the encounter than anything. The two knights wished her the same, and after a quick, concerned glance, went back to their conversation.

Aria ducked back into the room, closed the door, sat on the bed, and began hyperventilating again.

Her uncle was gone. She was alone in unfamiliar territory with no idea what to do, no money or supplies to help her survive, and no idea of how to get home. She supposed she could try to head back to the cave on the mountain, but without hiking equipment, there was a very real chance that she could die before she got back to the – what had Uncle Press called it? – The flume. And then there were all the quigs she would have to deal with.

No, she decided. She would just…wait for Press to come back. She relaxed slightly at the thought of this. She knew he would never, never abandon her like this. Not of his own free will, anyways. No signs of a struggle, she reminded herself. Nope, she would just wait there until Press came back.

Hopefully she wouldn't have to wait too long.