note: So, this is basically an explanation chapter, and I apologize profusely if it's boring… just stick with me. Questions not answered in this chapter will almost certainly be answered throughout the story, but I would still love to hear any questions you guys have so I can make sure to address them. Thanks a lot. –Keza.

four: welcome.

The sun beat down on the back of my neck as we walked and I felt suddenly uncomfortable with our shared silence. Dutchy's stride was long and purposeful and his eyes stared straight ahead. I wondered what he was thinking about. He gave no indication that he even noticed my gaze. About a block later, I couldn't take it anymore.

"Dutch," I said, squinting up at him, "don't you even want to know where we're going?"

He looked at me and blinked, confused, as if he'd been in some sort of trance and only my voice had broken it. He shrugged.

"I mean, I guess. I just figured you didn't want to tell me." He was indifferent, and I was struck again by his determination – he didn't care what he had to do to complete his task. In that sense, he was fearless, and for that, I was envious. My own head was swimming with doubts, misgivings, and the occasional twinge of terror. Here we were out in broad daylight, nearing Battery Park of all places, and still every time I saw movement from the corner of my eye or an unexpected flash or noise, my muscles tensed and I started involuntarily. We must have cut a funny image, Dutchy and I. He was tall, gangly, and stone faced, while I was a head shorter with shifty eyes and a new habit of jumping at every shadow.

"No," I admitted, fixing my gaze forward once more. "I don't really want to get into it. But I need to." I took a breath. "Alright. We're going to somewhere, Dutch, somewhere in the city that I don't think you've ever been. You see, there are… well, there are two New Yorks." I risked a glance over, but he remained emotionless. "Specs' sickness, it was… or… he caught it from the other New York. That's why we have to go there – a Fever from the other side can only be cured with an antidote from the other side." A pause.

"He caught it?" Dutchy asked, and looked at me carefully as he said it.

I didn't meet his eyes, but realized that from that moment on I couldn't sugarcoat anything.

"Actually, I don't think so. I mean, we don't know for sure, but… but it seems like someone – or something – sent the Fever over. Like a curse."

"A curse," Dutchy echoed dumbly. "Why?"

"I was sorta hoping you could help answer that," I said. "We don't know."

Dutchy looked like he was going to say something, opened his mouth, closed it, then frowned and said, "Who's we?"

"Uh, me, Kid Blink… Skitts, Snoddy, Bumlets. We talked about your situation, you know… decided to help." I felt awkward saying it, but he just nodded an 'okay.' I didn't mention the pact or any of that, for some reason it just didn't feel quite right at the time.

There was a long silence before Dutchy next spoke.

"Specs… he had been acting weird – distant. Not lately, though, I mean, I wasn't expecting anything." As he got going, his words came in a rush. "But a few months back, things were real bad. He wasn't always around, and he was secretive when we were together. When he wasn't distant he was testy or scared. That's when I was worried, when I thought that if something hadn't already happened, it would soon. And then… it passed. One day he was just back to normal, better than normal, even. And since then, everything has been fine." He saw my obvious confusion. "I never asked," he added, sounding apologetic. "I just wanted him to stay himself, you know? I guess now… well… I wish I knew now. What do you think?"

"I don't know," I said truthfully. I had never noticed Specs' change in mood, but we had never been close, and besides, I tended to keep to myself. "They could certainly be connected, but we won't know for sure until we get more information. Hopefully from Specs himself," I added almost as an afterthought.

Dutchy nodded. I was glad he was back on the same planet as me, even better that he wasn't allowing his emotions to cloud his obvious good sense.

"Ok," he said. "Tell me – tell me about this other New York. I want to know everything there is to know."

I smiled bitterly. "Everything? You're asking the wrong person. I… haven't been over to the other side in a long time. But I'll at least tell you everything I know." I hesitated because Dutchy looked uncomfortable, then I understood. "You want to know why I'm bringing you, and not one of the others," I said. He shrugged.

"I don't mean to insult you."

"No, not at all. It doesn't really make sense until you know more about this… thing. See, you can go in and out of this place, obviously. But if you do it too frequently – if I was to go in today, come out tomorrow, say, and then go back in, I'd get sick."

"Oh. Have you ever been sick like that?"

"No, but I've seen it." Involuntarily, the image came up in my mind and I grimaced. "Those other boys, they've been in and out a lot lately, I guess. So they don't wanna have to do another quick in and out trip. It's just not healthy."

Dutchy was silent, processing all this. I gave him a few seconds, then continued.

"There are a lot of names for it, this other side. Sometimes people refer to it as just that, the "other side," or even simply "it." We call it the Dark. A lot of people call it that – people who live on this side, at least."

"Can someone from this side live on the other side?"

"You mean, like, permanently? Yes. But it's hard. It's different over there, of course. Think of how paranoid you are over here, sometimes, like maybe cutting through an alley in the middle of the night… or goin through Brooklyn or something. Imagine ten times that feeling. You gotta watch your every mood and learn to always keep your eyes open, even when you think you're safe or alone. The Dark is not pure evil, but it's pretty close. Things in there are just bad, they just feel bad. If you remember one thing that I tell you today, just remember this: no one is honest. That includes your senses. Trust yourself, trust your brain and how fast you can run, but be careful when you think about trusting your heart, or even your eyes. The Dark is full of a lot of people – of things – that want to deceive you."

"So why would anyone want to live there?"

Again, an image popped into my head, and I couldn't push it away.

"Sometimes," I said slowly, "sometimes a person is so sad, or so confused, that they don't think they can function on this side, and they… it's like they take refuge on the other side. Others like to make it all a game, smuggling and stealing and generally just taking advantage of people. And I guess there must be some whose souls are just so twisted they feel more at home over there than they do here."

Dutchy still looked bothered, and finally said, "You don't think-"

"No," I said firmly. "Definitely not. I don't know what Specs was doing, or even if he was involved with the Dark, but there's no way he would have decided to stay there. He had you, and he came back to you. And it's a lot easier to give up and stay than it is to come back. No. It sounds more like Specs made a mistake."

Dutchy tried not to show his relief. "Thanks," he mumbled.

"Just keep your head down and you'll be fine," I assured him. "Besides, we won't be there long." For whatever reason, this felt like a lie. I didn't believe it even as I said it, but Dutch seemed satisfied. He was almost… excited to go over – or at least very curious. I sighed inwardly, and wished myself to be anywhere else.

"So, do you know what the Cure is?" Dutchy asked. We had stopped under a large tree so I could smoke a cigarette and generally enjoy my last few moments feeling a warm breeze under the cool of the elm's shade.

"Nope," I answered honestly, closing my eyes with my first drag. Heavenly. "But I know someone who does, and that's the important part. She'll have it, this I'm sure of." I smiled, eyes still closed. "Her name's Sofia. She does stuff like that – potions and antidotes, curses, hexes, whatever. She's good – probably the best. But she doesn't like to make things unless she really wants to, unless she feels like she has a reason. I guess she's weird like that. Anyway, that's another reason you're here with me. She'll want to hear your story, all about you and Specs." I took one last hit and stubbed the remains out on the bark of the tree at my back. "The entrance here in Battery Park spits us out somewhere near her shop, but I won't know where for sure until we get there, so… well, I guess it's time that we go."

Dutchy just nodded his assent, then squared his shoulders. I almost laughed. "Come on," I said, and motioned for him to follow. We walked to the edge of the park and I allowed myself one last pause as I gazed out to the water, listening to the seagulls and the waves breaking, and feeling sad for a moment. The moment passed. I squatted down at the edge of the path while Dutchy looked on. After a little searching, I found what I was looking for; two nondescript stones, each about the size of my palm, embedded in the dirt. I stood up, brushed off my knees, and stepped on the stones so one foot covered each.

"Stand on these like I am," I told Dutchy. "And then…" I laughed, and launched myself over the edge. I heard a strangled sound of surprise from my companion, but ignored it and instead watched the water as it rushed toward me. Just as I was about to be smashed to pieces on the rocks below, I heard a rushing sound not unlike a large wave.

I landed on my feet but pitched forward onto my knees and winced. Cobblestones. Rain. Heavy air. I remained on my knees and felt my heartbeat quicken, felt my hands tingle, felt a familiar panic rise in my throat. Something wasn't right, something was absolutely, undoubtedly, wrong. I stood quickly and spun in a circle, but I was alone, I was on a main street but it was completely deserted. I remained still and tried to get my bearings, but my brain refused and the panic only increased. Dutchy hit the cobblestones with a crash behind me, and got up looking nauseous.

"Race?" He asked warily, frowning at me. "Race, are you alright?"

I tried to slow my breathing, tried to get my eyes to focus on Dutchy, but I couldn't. I felt ill, I felt scared out of my mind. Something wasn't right. For a fleeting second I thought it was just because I hadn't been over in so long, thought maybe I was getting flashbacks, but… No. No. Dutchy was fine, albeit confused and worried. And I… I felt like I was going to scream. I walked to the nearest building and sat against it, trying to breathe slowly. The street remained deserted. Dutchy followed me and looked around.

"Race," he said again, but I just shook my head.

"Just give me a minute," I rasped, battling with my senses. My hands shook faintly.

I rubbed at my eyes, got my breathing under control, stood slowly. Every part of me was telling me to go back, except… except the mark behind my left ear. It itched and I touched it absently, remembering the pact, remembering Dutchy, and Specs, Kloppman, the bunkroom… it didn't matter what was wrong. I had to go through with it, with everything. I walked away from the wall and looked apprehensively east. The rain was cold, and I noticed now that Dutchy was shivering. I began to walk, and he followed. We walked in the middle of the road. I looked back.

"Welcome," I said, and his teeth chattered as he smiled bitterly. "Welcome to the Dark. I hope you enjoy your stay, because now there is no turning back."