"You sure?"

"Yeah." Enzo responded, his voice still strained and weak. "I haven't…had any real food for cycles. I wanna try."

"OK." Bob shrugged, sliding his chair closer to the bed and helping the green-haired boy to a sitting position. "Maybe a little piece of bread would be all right – it seems pretty bland. Although Rosa is a pixelacious cook." The Guardian broke off a small chunk of the crusty brown bread on his tray and handed it to the youngster. "You sure you don't wanna stick with soup?"

"Sure." The boy grinned weakly, accepting the bread. He took a small bite and winced.

"What's the matter?"

"Teeth hurt." Enzo coughed, chewing slowly. "Haven't…used 'em in so long…"

"You all right?"

"Yeah… It tastes good."

"You still have any of your baby teeth?"

"Bob!" Enzo blushed. "Of course not! I got all my real teeth in minutes ago. Well, seconds…"

"Sorry!" the silver-haired sprite laughed. "It's been a long time - I don't even remember how old I was. That bread all right?"

The youngster nodded, continuing to nibble the bread and chew it slowly, laboriously. "Even chewing makes me...tired." he scowled.

"That's understandable – you were a pretty sick kid." Bob smiled, tousling his hair. "You had me worried there for a while."

"Sorry."

"Don't be!" Bob chuckled. "You did just great – like you always do."

"Yeah… No one falls into a river…better'n me." The boy sighed.

"Stop!" Bob commanded, shaking his head. He slid onto the bed and wrapped an arm around the youngster's shoulder. "Enough of that stuff – I'm tired of it. I'm proud of you, you know."

"What? Why – cause I got sick?" Enzo asked dubiously.

"No! Because you did what you always do. You sucked it up and didn't complain and you kept going even though you were afraid. I don't know how you do it, sometimes – so much bad stuff to happen to a little sprite, but you keep going."

"Really?" Enzo sighed. "I don't even think about it… I just…I just wanted to help you, that's all." The boy looked up. "Are you really proud…of me?"

"You know it." The Guardian grinned. "I've never been more proud of anyone. I know how bad you felt and how scared you were. I know how much you wanted to give up, too. But here you are – just like always. Ready to watch my back."

"Thanks." The youngster smiled weakly. "I wish I felt better...so we could leave. What's gonna happen with the game?"

"Don't worry about it. We'll win the game. Just get better."

"But-"

"Just get better." The Guardian repeated. "I'm keeping my eyes open, trying to find stuff out. In case you haven't figured it out yet this is different than any other game I've ever seen – we can't try to fight it like we normally would. In the meantime rest and get your strength back – that's what's important."

"OK, Bob." the boy yawned, his energy already beginning to wane rapidly. He set the half-eaten piece of bread down and leaned back in bed. "Bob, what are games like in the supercomputer?"

"Didn't I tell you about that once already?" the Guardian frowned.

"No." Enzo coughed. "I don't think so. I don't remember…"

"Oh yeah - that's right..." Bob smiled. "OK, Pal, I'll tell you. First of all, they're a lot faster…"

"Go to bed."

"Mum?" Pesaj yawned, looking up from scrubbing the bar.

"You heard me – go to bed. I'll finish up here and close the place for the night. You're tired."

"Thank you Mum." The tall youth smiled. He set his rag down and started for the door.

"Pesaj, I've told you – you don't have to sleep in that little corner of the barn! The rooms haven't been filled for a year. Take a bed upstairs."

"No'M." the youth answered. "Those is for guests. I'm fine in me corner."

"Stubborn whelp." Rosa scowled. "Very well then – be off with you!" The boy nodded and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the red-haired woman shaking her head. She ambled into the common room, where a lone patron sat with a tankard next to the dwindling fire. "You – Stefan! Finish your mead and be gone already! Go home to your wife."

"I paid for this drink, Rosa!" the man protested.

"So did I – with my sweat and lack of sleep! Get away with you so I can go to bed. Can't you see you're keeping the place open?"

"I don't know why I pay good money to be treated like this!" Stefan growled, setting his tankard down hard on the wooden table and standing. "You can have your bloody bar to yourself, then – see how long you stay in business…"

"Mule." Rosa cackled. "Stefan! You say hello to your Angelina, hear me? If she needs anything you have her tell me."

"Of course." The departing man smiled. "Good night, Rosa. See you on the morrow."

"Stefan! Go with care."

"Of course."

"On the morrow, Stefan." The red-haired innkeeper nodded. She slid the wooden bolt in place behind the door and tossed her cleaning rag onto a table with a sigh. "This mess will still be here in the morning, I think." She wiped her hands on her apron and mounted the stairs.

Enzo was curled up on the bed asleep when she entered, Bob seated on his chair holding the boy's hand and staring out the window thoughtfully. "How does the evening find you, Pilgrim?"

"I like 'Bob' better." The silver-haired man answered without turning his head. "I'm fine, thanks."

"I thought I'd best check on the boy before I turned in." Rosa nodded, sitting on the bed next to the sleeping child. "How is he?"

"Seems to be doing pretty well." Bob smiled. "He even had a little bit of bread before he fell asleep. Although I think he did it just to try and impress me."

"He should be taking it slowly." Rosa frowned. "He's still weak. We need to be certain he drinks all of his tea – the medicines are just as vital now as they were before."

"He finished it. He's thirsty all the time, seems like. So… You think he's doing better? He's going to be all right?"

The innkeeper placed a hand on the boy's brow thoughtfully. "He is most certainly doing better than he was, Bob. I worry, still – he's such a thin little thing, so little strength to him. The young and the old have less reserve to fight for their lives. Still – there seems always to be a time with this sickness. I see it often – they get sicker and sicker and then they decide, somehow – they live or they die. I think Enzo has decided to live."

"He's an amazing boy." Bob said softly.

The innkeeper stared at Bob silently for several long moments. "I was fairly certain he was goin to die, Strange Man. His illness was bad, among the worst I have seen. He seemed to have nothing left in that little body to fight with. But something brought him back."

"I told you – he's an amazing boy. He's stronger than you can imagine."

"I do not doubt it." Rosa nodded. "But the body is what it is, Bob. If he found the strength to fight to live, he found it from somewhere. Or someone."

"What are you saying?" Bob frowned.

"Perhaps I'm merely a foolish woman – but I have tended to many people who were ill, watched them live and watched them die. Sometimes a person who should die does not – because something brings them back. Always it is the same thing, Bob. I have seen it with a husband for a wife, a parent for a child. But you, who are merely the boy's teacher? It is strange, indeed. Yet here he lives and breathes, where in fact he should most certainly be dead."

"Maybe I'm not just his teacher." The silver-haired sprite sighed.

"Tell me of this, Bob. I am curious, and I have helped you. Who is this boy? Where have you come from? Why does he cling to you in the way that he does?"

"We've come from… a long way away. I haven't- I haven't really even known Enzo all that long. But he's special to me."

"Tell me of this."

The Guardian smiled and shook his head. "Enzo doesn't have a father, Rosa. Or a mother, for that matter."

"No mother?" Rosa said thoughtfully.

"No." Bob said in a soft voice. "I… I came to the village where he lives a while back. I guess I- I know what's it's like to be lonely. My father wasn't really around for me when I was a kid." The Guardian leaned back in his chair wearily, as if weighing his words. "I guess I just wanted to be a friend to him. But it hasn't really worked out that way."

"How so, Bob?"

"He's an amazing kid, you know?" Bob laughed. "He drives you offline sometimes, he never stops going. He's exhausting. He makes me laugh constantly, he's so eager to impress me. And somehow he's… He's gotten inside of me."

"Indeed?" Rosa smiled.

"Yeah. All the stuff I… I think about him. How he makes me proud and how he drives me offline and how he makes me want to protect him and teach him and help him…" Bob looked the red-haired woman directly in the eye. "I don't really know, since I've never been one. But… It seems like all that stuff he makes me feel… I don't think that's really any different than what a father feels – you know?"

The innkeeper said nothing, merely nodded slightly. She felt her hand reach out and encircle the Guardian's. "Rosa… I-"

"I understand, Pilgrim. I understand everything." She whispered. "You are not so strange at all, I think."

"I asked you not to call me that." He said softly.

"Bob, then. Go to sleep, Bob. You need your rest almost as much as the boy does." The innkeeper squeezed his hand in her own and, quickly, leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. Then, in a flash, she was out the door and gone.

Enzo waited for a few nanos after he'd heard the door close, listening to Bob's slow, even breathing and considering what he'd heard. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to say anything at all, but there was too much inside of him, screaming to be let out.

"Did you really mean that?" the boy whispered.

"Enzo!" he heard Bob gasp. "Were you awake the whole time?"

"Yeah."

"You shouldn't do that." The youngster opened his eyes to see Bob shaking his head and frowning. "It's not nice – like eavesdropping. You shouldn't listen to people who don't know you're listening."

"I know. Sorry." Enzo whispered, sitting up in bed. "But… Did you mean it?"

"What – about you driving me offline? You bet your bitmap I did…"

"No! You know what I mean. Did you?"

The Guardian grinned ruefully. "I wouldn't have said it if I hadn't meant it. You know me well enough to know that."

The boy wiped the sleep from his eyes with his sleeve and stared at his feet. "Bob, I… I… Thanks."

"For what?"

"Nothin', I guess." The youngster sighed. After a nano he raised himself onto his knees and crawled towards the Guardian, wincing from the pain in his atrophied muscles. Bob met him halfway and the boy wrapped his arms around the silver-haired sprite's neck, tightly as he could. "Thanks."

"Ow!" Bob chuckled. "You must not be as weak as I thought – you're choking me!"

"Sorry." Enzo said softly, clinging for dear life. "Why… Why'd you tell her all that stuff?"

"Who better to tell? She's a game sprite – I'll never see her again." The Guardian's words clouded Enzo's heart for a nano, but the exhilarating joy inside him soon crowded it out. "I just said what I was thinking, Tiger. That's all."

Sick though he was, the boy felt that nothing in the net could touch him at that nano. Their predicament didn't faze him at all – all that mattered was that his heart was full, bursting to break through his skin and be free. "Maybe… Maybe neither of us were too lucky, y'know. With our Dads. Maybe that's why we have to take care of each other. You know what I mean?"

"Maybe, Kiddo." Bob whispered, holding the boy more gently than Enzo was holding him. "Sounds pretty fair to me."

"Can I sleep in the chair again?" the youngster asked softly.

"Sure." Bob chuckled. He stood, Enzo's arms still wrapped around his neck. "By the User - you're so light! I can feel your ribs! We've got to get you healthy again. I never knew you could lose so much weight in a few cycles – and you didn't have much to begin with."

"I'll be fine." The boy sighed happily, lowering his head to Bob's shoulder as the Guardian settled into the chair.

"I know you will. Let's try and get some sleep, K? Got to get our strength back."

"OK." Enzo felt the blanket draped over his shoulders and closed his eyes, savoring the sweet smoke from the fire as it crackled next to them and pure, restful sleep slowly settled over him. "She was right, you know."

"About what?" he heard Bob whisper.

"About everything." There was more inside him that longed to be spoken, but there would be time for that. For now, there was sleep.

Bob watched as Enzo's eyelids slowly drooped, the boy's efforts at staying awake finally giving in to his weariness. He waited a few nanos longer, until the boy lapsed into the unmistakable pattern of slow, deep breaths that signaled he was deeply asleep. With a faint chuckle he carried the youngster over to the bed and laid him gently down.

After the boy was securely tucked under his blanket the Guardian stretched and headed downstairs, his muscles feeling better than they had in cycles. The itch to travel was beginning to torment him, the urge to action. How much delay could they possibly endure and still win the game? Still, Enzo was in no condition to travel – not yet.

The common room was empty in the early hours of the day, so Bob headed for the kitchen, where Rosa was busily pounding out bread dough on a blocky wooden table. "Mmm – something smells good!" he smiled.

"Indeed." Rosa chuckled, wiping her brow. "The bread smells fine as it bakes, Bob – but the yeast in it's raw form… Be thankful I'm the one who does the preparation. How does the day find you?"

"I'm good, thanks. You?"

"My work never ends. But I am well, I suppose."

"Where's Pesaj?"

"The lazy whelp is at the smithy, shoeing one of my horses." The innkeeper grunted. She sighed wearily and removed her apron.

"Don't let me take you away from your work!" Bob protested. "You're busy-"

"Pah! The bread goes nowhere, My Friend. The work never ends." The red-haired woman rinsed her hands in a wooden basin and sat on a rickety stool. "Come, Bob – sit and tell me of the boy. He is well?"

"Seems to be." Bob smiled, sitting across from her. "Thanks to you. He's tired all the time but he's mad about it now – you can see it! He wants to get up and run around like always but he's not quite there yet."

"Well, you mustn't allow him, Bob – he may feel better but if he tries to do too much too soon he will be back in a sickbed in a moment's notice. And he may never get up the next time. This illness – it is as serious as you can imagine. Keep him under control as well as you can."

"I'll try – but you don't know what you're asking!" Bob sighed. "My hands – they feel better. I'm going to take the bandages off."

"If you wish it, Bob. They might be better to stay on for a few more days-"

"No – it's enough." Bob said firmly, holding out his hands. "Will you help me, please?"

"Of course." The woman nodded. Slowly, she unwrapped the poultices from the Guardian's hands. "That you can feel in your hands – this is good. You will not lose any fingers, I think."

"Good. I wouldn't like that." Bob grinned. The skin revealed was rather ugly – wrinkled and pallid, the fingers bent with lack of use. The Guardian winced as he slowly flexed them. "Not exactly a thing of beauty, are they?"

"They are to me, My Friend. You will keep them – that is all that matters. What I feared to see was the black sickness of the skin – that would have been the worst imaginable thing. You can feel with all of your fingers?"

"Yep." Bob nodded. "Toes, too." He bent and slowly unwrapped the bandages from his feet. "Enzo's been bugging me to take his bandages off – can I?"

"It would be better if you allowed me, Bob. But I will look in on the boy today and if all is well, remove the bandages. You are most fortunate, Friend – to have survived all you did, with no serious injury…"

"Again, thanks to you. I think those nulls in the bar would have killed both of us if you hadn't stepped in!"

"They are not so evil as you think." Rosa said in a low voice. "They are afraid. People change when they are afraid. It warps them…"

"What are they afraid of, Rosa?" Bob prodded.

The innkeeper scowled at him for a moment. "What are you doing here – Pilgrim? What is your quest?"

"Fair enough." Bob sighed, marveling once again at the depth of personality that animated the woman. For what felt like the thousandth time he wondered if the game cube could possibly have transported him to another system somehow, though his processor told him it was impossible.

The Guardian decided that he simply didn't have the time to worry about the niceties of subtlety any longer. "Rosa, I'm going to be honest with you – I'm not sure why we're here. I know we're here for a reason – it's the nature of my… My calling. But I don't know what it is. Something to do with your sys- village. I'm sure of it."

"Indeed." Rosa nodded, wide-eyed. "How very strange, Bob. How very strange…"

"Help me, Rosa. Help me understand. What happened to your son? Your husband? How did they die?"

"Die they did not, Bob – though I wish that they had." The innkeeper whispered.

"What? I… I don't understand. You wish-"

"You really do not know, Bob? The curse that haunts this village? This valley?"

The Guardian's intuition kicked in, every circuit snapping to full attention. "No. Tell me, please. It may be incredibly important."

The innkeeper studied him silently for several nanos, her face unreadable. "It is the mountain, Strange Man. The keep on the mountain."

"The keep?" Bob hissed, feeling himself at the beginning of a journey at last. "What about it?"

"The Lord, Stranger." Rosa whispered. "We do not like even to talk of it…"

"Rosa… This could be why I'm here! Maybe I was sent here to help you, free you from this…curse. Who is this Lord you're talking about?"

"Quiet!" Rosa whispered urgently. "Do not speak of it so loudly. You really do not know?"

"No – I don't. Tell me!"

The woman took a deep breath, shaking her head. "Very, very strange. Very well, Bob – I will tell you. I have lost all that I love already... He was a man, once – or so it's said. A noble of sorts, a Count. He ruled over this fiefdom for many decades. But his rule was not a kind one. Many died under his hand, simply to appease his cruel sensibilities."

"Sounds like a great guy." Bob scowled.

"Do not joke, fool. It is not a matter for jocularity. If you wish to hear more, I will continue."

"Please." Bob pleaded.

"Very well." Rosa whispered. "His rule continued for many decades, Pilgrim – each more rife with cruel suffering than the last. The Count was very old – well past the normal span of a man, never seen publicly and rarely privately – at least by those who would live to tell of it. He had no wife, no children. That is when the disappearances began."

"Disappearances?"

"Indeed. Quietly, always in the night. Children, often children. Sweet, innocent ones. Gone, gone, gone…"

"Children? Disappearing?" Bob mused. "Tell me more, Rosa. This could be the key to everything!"

"Not much more to tell, Bob." the innkeeper sighed. "It is the curse under which we live. Always, we fear the dark. Sometimes the Count is seen in the villages at night – but he is young, as he was described in his youth. Always we live in fear that another one will be taken. Sometimes… Sometimes someone sees one of the taken ones – a person of their heart itself. But they are changed, changed…"

"I think I understand." Bob whispered. "I think I understand…"

"Do you?" the innkeeper rasped. "To lose someone so close to you… But not to death. Death is simple, final. Death would be better. Far better…"

"Is that what happened to your little boy?"

"I do not like to speak of my Grigory. It is very… It is very difficult." The red-haired woman said softly, wiping her eyes.

"I appreciate that." Bob whispered, grabbing her hand in his gnarled ones, wincing at the contact. "But I need to know – maybe I can save someone else's little boy from the same fate."

"Fool! You truly are a fool! What makes you think you can change what we have lived with for decades?"

"It's my calling." Bob said gently. "Please – give me a chance. I can help you. Tell me about Grigory."

"Fool, you are such a fool." The woman sobbed softly. "He was taken, Pilgrim. Taken from his bed. I heard him scream and I went to him… But I was too late. He was gone…"

"Taken." Bob whispered.

"The charms, the runes… All are useless. He takes what he wants, when he wants. We cannot stop him, only pray he chooses someone else's child. He was nine years old, Pilgrim. Nine years old and happy, full of joy in his spirit and healthy in his body. Like your Enzo, before he came here. And now he is worse than dead…"

"I'm sorry. I can't tell you how sorry."

The woman continued, oblivious to the Guardian's words. "My husband, Pieter – he went to try to save him, to bring him home. He was a fool like you – our son was gone, forever gone. And my husband is gone too – he never came home. I begged him not to go, and still he went…" Her resolve gone, the innkeeper's facade crumbled and she dissolved into tears.

"He was trying to save his son." Bob said softly, squeezing her shoulder. "How could he not? I'd have done the same. He-"

"He was a fool!" Rosa spat. "And now I am alone here, waiting for the next one to disappear in the night. It is not a curse I would wish upon anyone, Pilgrim. It is a kind of living death…"

"I can help. I can stop this… This Count, or whatever he is-"

"No! Do you not see that you will never come back? Like the others? Why must all men be such fools? Are you incapable of listening?"

"I've been accused of that." The Guardian sighed. "But I have to do what I came here to do."

"Bob…" the woman whispered. "Why must you do this? Leave Enzo without… You may not be the boy's father but it's obvious you love him. What will happen to him? Why must you leave him alone and go to your destruction?"

"I'll take him if I can." The silver-haired sprite said softly. "I have to go – I don't have any choice."

"You do." Rosa hissed urgently. "You could stay here."

"Rosa-"

"You said yourself, Pilgrim – the boy has no mother. He needs a woman's care to guide him through the pains of his life – do you not see? This can be a good life, Bob – a hard one, yes. But we can face it if we are strong. Why not stay here?"

"Don't think I'm not tempted." Bob smiled.

"I have never met anyone like you, Strange Man." The innkeeper whispered, running her hand through the Guardian's hair. "Such devotion, such fire – and yet so gentle with your boy." She inclined her head and slowly inched towards the Guardian until their lips met for a long moment.