Chapter Eight

"Are you insane?" Rosalind and I asked Puck simultaneously and with the same inflection of incredulity in our voices.

"I cannot fly!" I added, appalled by the thought and the fact that Puck would suggest something like that in the first place. "I don't have wings like you."

At the same time, Rosalind was adding her own words as well, as they combined with mine to create noise that Puck could not comprehend. "We are not flying back to the Merchant's Library! And besides, I am allergic to fairy dust anyways."

Puck just laughed as I looked at Rosalind. "What's fairy dust?" I asked her.

"Magical dust that can help non-fairy beings achieve flight!" Puck exclaimed. He was now clutching a tiny pouch in his hands. A light was coming from within, a light that was similar to the color of the light from the glowing manuscripts. I think that I'll refer to the manuscripts by their proper name—prophecies—from this point forward.

"Like pixie dust," I presumed, thinking about the books I have read or movies I have seen.

Puck looked suddenly offended, "No, not at all," he corrected me. "Fairy dust is very different than pixie dust and fairies also do not associate ourselves with those short, pestering creatures known as pixies."

Being small in stature himself, Puck didn't have a right to putdown pixies; however, I didn't call him out on it because I barely knew him and I could sense the strong dislike in his voice when he spoke about pixies. Apparently, pixies existed in the world of Shakespeare as well and fairies didn't like them.

"We are not flying!" Rosalind cried. "We can walk to Antonio's. It is not too far from here."

"Yeah, we can walk," Puck said, and at first I thought he was agreeing with Rosalind, but then I could see the grin that was spreading broadly across his face again. "But it'll take a while. Or we can fly and get there very quickly."

Rosalind folded her arms across her chest; she looked cross. "I am not flying!" she emphasized for the hundredth time.

"Come on, Rosalind," Puck whined. "You still owe me for my earlier heroics."

Rosalind scoffed. "I wouldn't quite call what you did heroics and I don't owe you anymore. I allowed you to have your fun. You got to tour the school, remember?"

"Tour the school?" I wondered. The conversation was getting way off topic way too fast and I was losing pace. I fought to keep up and questions were my only weapon. I mean, how had we gone from flying to pixies and fairies to heroics at some school?

"Long story there," Rosalind said.

"We were looking for you earlier at your high school," Puck informed me since Rosalind didn't seem too inclined to answer my question. "I got to tour your high school after I tricked the lady in the office to give me your address. I cast a mind-controlling charm on her, you see, and it was amazing! And so was your school. What are those things called with those strange locks with numbers on them?"

"Whoa!" I exclaimed. "Hold on! Back up! You said you went to my school earlier and got my address from the office? You guys were spying on me?"

Puck blushed. "Not really spying on you," he said. "We were just trying to find where you lived so we could tell you about your destiny. It was Othello's orders. He's our commanding officer. You can take it up with him when we get back to the Merchant's Library if you are angry about it."

"I am not angry about it," I said. "And they are called lockers."

"Lockers," Puck repeated. "What are the purpose of lockers in a school?"

"To stuff kids who are smaller than you in them," I joked.

But Puck didn't think I was joking; he thought I was serious. His eyes went wide with horror. "Are they torture chambers?" he wondered, appalled. "To send children who are bad?"

I shook my head and laughed. "No, they are not torture chambers and I was only kidding. Lockers are not used for that purpose, although bullies like to use them for that from time to time."

Puck relaxed a bit. "So, what are they really used for then?"

"For storage," I replied. "You know for school books and notebooks?" I paused and Puck nodded. Something crossed my mind at that point and I was curious. "Since you two are from Shakespeare, you all don't know much about my world, yet you speak the same type of English that I do. I had expected you to speak in an earlier dialect, like in the prophecies that I have read."

Puck looked confused, where as Rosalind looked interested in our conversation again. As long as it didn't concern flying, she was okay. "What did you just say?" she questioned me, unfolding her arms.

"I said that lockers are for storage—" I began.

"No, after that," Rosalind cut me off.

"That you two don't know much about my world and—"

"After that," Rosalind replicated.

"Are you talking about the speaking English part or the part about earlier dialects?"

"Neither. I'm talking about the prophecies part."

"Oh," I finally understood what she was talking about. "What about that part?"

Rosalind looked exasperated. "You have read the prophecies before?"

Maybe I had made a mistake by referring to the manuscripts as prophecies . . . .

I nodded. "Yes, I have," I told her. "And no, I will not tell you what I've read about you, if that's what you're asking."

Rosalind shook her head, even though she looked a tad bit curious. "I don't want you to tell me about my future," she admitted and I was glad she didn't try to coerce me into telling her about her future even if her future had a happy ending unlike other Shakespearean characters. "I'm just . . . astounded. I wasn't aware that you had read from more than one of the prophecies. You are not Shakespearean," she reminded me. "How is that possible."

I took a moment to explain to her and Puck about how in my world the prophecies that were penned by Shakespeare over four hundred years ago—which is over three million years ago in Shakespearean time—are believed to be plays. It didn't take long for them to grasp that concept and then it was there turn to explain something to me.

I repeated my question that I asked before Rosalind had asked me about the prophecies.

Puck chuckled at the question. "The answer to your question is pretty hilarious," he explained to me without explaining anything to me at all. I looked to Rosalind for help.

"There is a committee in Shakespeare that is funded by the Three Thrones," Rosalind explained as Puck continued to laugh. "This committee, and I can't remember what it is called, venture to your world from time to time to observe the humans here. Over the course of many years, your language has evolved and changed and so has our language, to mimic the language of English speaking humans, of course, since English was the language of William Shakespeare and remains the official language of Shakespeare today."

"You speak more like an American than a British person, which I would have expected you to speak more British English," I pointed out.

"Beg your pardon," Rosalind was confused again.

"Never mind," I said, weary of explanations. "So if your language evolved, why not your clothing?" I couldn't help but to smile at my ingenious inquiry.

Puck looked appalled again. "Are you making fun of our clothes?"

"No, not at all," I continued to smile. "I'm just curious, that's all." The two of them were dressed like warriors from the Middle Ages in leather, chain mail, and armor. They looked very out of place in my world, of course. If we happened to run into anyone on our walk to the Merchant's Library, then it would take a lot of explaining to stop people from gawking and laughing at Puck and Rosalind. Too bad it wasn't close to Halloween. That would have been a good excuse for such getups.

"The Golden Kings, rulers of the Three Thrones, decided a long time ago that only the language would change," Rosalind told me. "All of the Golden Kings throughout history have been appalled by some of the fashion trends that humans have invented. They were comfortable with our style of clothing and I have to say that I agree with them. I tried to wear an outfit that you and other girls at your high school would wear and it felt strange and didn't provide any protection from melee damage. Not only that but the shoes were difficult to walk in and people laughed at me for trying. It was quite embarrassing."

I snickered. "You had on high heels?" I asked in disbelief.

Rosalind nodded. "I guess if that's what you call those disasters waiting to happen, then yes."

"I don't wear shoes like that," I pointed out, lifting up one of my legs to show off my slip ons. "I'm a simple girl. I like shoes that make me feel dainty."

"You wouldn't like these then," Rosalind smirked and showed me her armored boots. "I don't feel dainty but I know that one good kick can cripple an oncoming assailant."

I laughed. Rosalind was so tough. I longed to be more like her. I was too weak, even for girl standards. True, I had showed some strength today by breaking up with Will but that was because of emotions. Emotions, such as anger, had helped me to become tough for a while, where as Rosalind could be tough without those emotions. She had a certain swagger about her; a swagger that I could never get even if I wore armored shoes.

"Um, excuse me," Puck intervened in the girlie conversation between Rosalind and me. Like any other guy, he was bored when the topic switched to fashion. "But we must get going." He tapped his left wrist as though he was wearing an imaginary watch. "Time is wasting and we're just standing here chatting."

"You're right," Rosalind agreed. "Let's go."

And she started walking across the courtyard.

"I guess we're walking," I said, starting to move after her.

I took two steps and felt suddenly faint. Then, I had the desire to sneeze. And so I did. Once, twice, three times. Wait for it before you say bless you . . . Four times. Five. And I stopped sneezing suddenly. There was something in the air that I was allergic to and it had hit me without warning. I needed to take some extra cetrizine or something when I got home. Whenever I got home.

And then, I heard Puck chuckling behind me. I was about to turn around and shush him when I noticed that I couldn't turn around because my feet weren't touching the ground. What the—My feet weren't touching the ground!

I screamed. I was floating in mid-air, hovering inches above the ground as though someone wearing Caliban's nifty cloak was holding me over his or her shoulder. But I was rising slowly. I was flying . . . .

Puck was cackling like a mad man then and I realized that he had sprinkled some of his fairy dust on me. I couldn't believe it. That little trickster had sprinkled fairy dust on me! That's why I had sneezed. I was allergic to the dust like Rosalind was.

Rosalind stopped and spun around. "Puck? Why are you laugh—" she paused once she saw me floating. "Puck? What have you done this time? This is not funny! I am going to kill you!"

Rosalind stormed back towards to two of us and I kept screaming my head off. "Help me!" I yelled. "Rosalind! Do something!"

"She can't," Puck said grinning. "It'll take several hours before the effects of the dust wear off."

"Several hours!" I cried in outrage.

"Several hours or there is an incantation that I can recite that can reverse the effects," Puck said. "Rosalind here doesn't know that incantation but I do because I'm a fairy." He grinned proudly.

I tried to reach for him but it was no use. "If I could grab you, I would hurt you, you sneaky—"

But the rest of my words were drowned out by Puck's roars of laughter, which I supposed was a good thing because the words I spat at him weren't pleasant ones. And still, I rose higher and higher . . . .

"Stop laughing and tell me how to stop going up!" I screamed loud enough for him to hear me over his laughter. "Before I end up in the freaking stratosphere!"

"It's simple really," Puck instructed me. "All you have to do is force yourself downwards and you shall go down."

"Force myself downwards?! How in the heck do I do that?"

"That's it then!" Puck was glad that I was getting it although I wasn't getting it at all. Couldn't he see that I was still going up? Was he blind? "Just do it!"

"Just do it? What are you? A salesman for Nike or something?" I muttered, trying to take a steady breath. "All right," I said. "Just do it!"

I threw all of my thoughts and energy into forcing myself downwards. I didn't know how to do it exactly but I tried to fight against the magic that was causing me to ascend and push myself down into descent. It was like fighting against a rushing tide of water. Instead of surfacing though, I was allowing myself to drown almost.

Then, I was sinking, returning to the ground. I did it. I landed on the path and rushed towards Puck. "When I get my hands on you—" But then, I was floating again. I had broken my concentration as I tried to break Puck in half and the magical dust had swept me up into invisible hands once more. It was a tough fight to remain grounded, as the dust didn't want me to stay on the ground for way too long.

"Reverse it, Puck!" Rosalind yelled at him.

Puck shook his head fiercely. "No, I refuse to." Rosalind glared at him and he held up the pouch in front of her face. "Now, we have no other choice but to fly."

"I'm telling Othello about this one," Rosalind promised him. "You know that we are not supposed to do this. What if we are seen by humans?"

"We won't be," Puck assured her. "Stop worrying and take some fairy dust." He shook the bag. "Or do you want me to sprinkle it for you?"

Rosalind growled. "Give me the bag!"

Puck held it out even more and Rosalind snatched the pouch from him. "Take just a handful," Puck reminded her.

Rosalind grabbed a handful of dust and threw it over herself. She sneezed as much as I did and soon she was joining me in flight.

Puck smiled happily and the pouch of fairy dust disappeared from his hands. "You two fly so well," he joked.

"Oh, you don't know how much I hate you right now!" Rosalind yelled, working to keep herself steady beside me.

Puck stretched his gossamer wings and when he took to the skies, we were ready to go.

"Now what?" I asked him.

"Now we fly!" Puck chuckled and zoomed circles around Rosalind and I, zipping around and between us several times in a matter of seconds. He was showing off, proud to be the expert here. If I could have reached him, I would have smacked him.

"What do we need to do now?" I repeated my question with more emphasis and to get Puck's attention. He was making me dizzy by circling me like that.

"The opposite of going down," Puck said, coming to a halt directly in front of me. He grinned so wide that I could count all of his teeth if I wanted to before he zoomed upwards like a space shuttle taking off. "You flyyyyyyyyyyy!"

I focused on doing the opposite of what I did to land earlier. It was really like swimming now. I made myself pretend that I was surfacing from underwater and I started to rise faster, higher and higher, the ground falling away from me at an alarming rate.

I looked down and knew at once that I shouldn't have. "Oh my God! Oh my God!" I kept repeating, hyperventilating and panicking.

Puck was still laughing. Did he ever stop being so merry? "Now, straighten yourself out and glide through the air," he continued to feed me instructions.

I closed my eyes so I wouldn't see the ground far below. Before they were shut all the way I could see that I was higher than the clock tower even, more than thirty feet up in the air.

I concentrated and found myself twisting and turning, my body moving into a lying stomach-down position the more I willed it to. Then, I was flying forward and not upwards.

"Open your eyes," Puck whispered in my ear, so close to me.

"No," I refused.

"Do it or you'll regret it," he told me. "Don't worry, you won't fall."

I took a deep breath and opened my eyes, confident that the fairy dust would at least keep me afloat if I couldn't. The view was . . . well, it was breathtakingly beautiful.

I was high up and nearly among the clouds now. The school was far below me and looked like a model set I had just built with pre-cut pieces and a good, strong wood's glue. I couldn't believe it. I was flying. As a child, it had been my dream to be able to fly, but back then, the dream had been a fantasy, something that I never thought would be possible. Now, I was living a dream. I was really flying!

Flying wasn't so bad, believe it or not. Once you got the hang of it, it was pretty fun. It was like controlling a character in a video game; same concept, but not quite the same feeling. I was the video game character, yet I was the one playing the game as well. I was pressing the button on the controller, yet I was being controlled as well. If I wanted to move up, I could move up. If I wanted to move down, I could move down. And if I wanted to move side to side, back, forth, and all around, I could move side to side, back, forth, and all around. And the best part about it was that the controls weren't inverted. I hated inverted controls in video games. You know the ones I'm talking about, right? The ones that you have to press down to move up or press right to move left.

Rosalind was flying a little ways below me and she seemed to have gotten the hang of flying as well and was thoroughly enjoying herself too. She wasn't complaining anymore unlike I had expected her to since she had been so averse to flying moments ago. Now, she felt like me and was glad that Puck had forced us to fly. It was hard not to enjoy it with a view like the one that we had. The school's clock tower, my safe haven, had nothing on this.

This was my first actual experience with magic, where a spell actually affected me, instead of jinxes and hexes being fired all around me, and it was the best moment of my life. I craved more magic. I wanted to learn how to utilize magic. After all, Puck had mentioned that it was possible and I could not settle for becoming a normal girl once more after it was all said and done. I had been introduced to magic now and I couldn't bear to live without it.

But that would require me to accept the offer that I knew that Antonio and Othello would present to me once I arrived at the Merchant's Library. That would mean that I would have to travel to the world of Shakespeare with members of the King's Men. If I were to learn magic, I would have to help the King's Men recover the Seven Relics and ultimately help them to the defeat the Dark Lady and her alliance of evil.

The Dark Lady . . . I knew that she existed because a few of my new friends had mentioned her throughout the day and I had to wonder if she was anything like the person that my dreams portrayed her to be. Of course, she was evil and there was no doubt that she was trying to lead a rebellion in the world of Shakespeare, but was she really that vile? I also wondered why she was always the focal point of my dreams. Essentially, what was the point of it all? Why did I experience the world of Shakespeare through her eyes?

But enough of pointless thoughts and a little more flying. Did I mention how wonderful the view was?

"Into the clouds!" Puck commanded us.

We were no longer flying over the school anymore, but heading over busy streets and residential areas, including my apartment complex. I thought about Alice and Melody again and wondered what they were doing. I felt slightly guilty. They were worrying themselves silly while I flew by overhead. I wished I could tell them all about it later but they would never believe me. I wouldn't have believed myself if I wasn't doing it.

"The clouds?" I echoed, looking over at him as he flew to the left of me. "Why?"

"For cover!" Puck screamed against the howling wind. "So we won't be seen."

I understood completely why we needed cover and why we couldn't be seen by people far below, but was it safe to fly up into the clouds?

I expressed my concern then and Puck assured me jovially that nothing would happen to me except I was to feel a little cold and damp afterwards.

I flew on, my body rigid. Puck soared up into the clouds and disappeared overhead. Rosalind looked at me, shrugged, and ascended after him. I stared down at the passing city lights. The city seemed so far away below me that I thought it was impossible for anyone to see us up there. I could see people below but they were just dots to my weak eyes. Perhaps Puck's eyes were stronger than mine and he was just paranoid that there was a chance of us being spotted. I didn't think that we would. My eyesight was pretty good with my contacts in and if the people were just specks to me, I was positive that we were just specks to them. Heck, they probably even thought that we were birds—owls—or something like that.

"Anne?" Puck called, sticking his tiny head out from a fluffy cloud.

I sighed and climbed through the air, flying coming almost naturally to me. On the ground, I was a klutz and was clumsy on my own two feet, but up in the sky, I was much more coordinated.

I entered the clouds with cautious, pondering about the sensation I would feel. I expected to freeze instantaneously, recalling what I had learned from my science classes about how earth's atmosphere was colder the higher you went up, but my initial feeling was different than I expected.

I was cold certainly but it wasn't an unbearable cold. It was kind of pleasant really and soft, comfortable like a warm bed on a winter's night. Only this bed was moist, too moist but comfortable just the same. I could fall asleep up there.

I could not see through the clouds at all. Rosalind couldn't either. Puck claimed he could see through them just fine but ever so often he would poke his head out from among the clouds to scope out the scenery. Every time, he would update Rosalind and I on approximately how close we were to the square downtown where the Merchant's Library was located, and where Othello and Antonio would be waiting with Ariel for my arrival so that they could persuade me to lend my services to aid the King's Men.

Finally, a few minutes later, which was too soon in my book, Puck rejoined Rosalind and I among the clouds and told us happily, "We are almost at the bookstore! Now, here comes the best part—landing!"

The best part? My mind echoed. We were already doing the best part. The best part was flying itself, not landing. Besides, I already had some experience landing and it was simple. Well, it was simple when you were only a few feet off of the ground but when you were hundreds of feet in the air, landing was a lot harder as I soon found out.

"We have to do this quickly so we are not seen," Puck fed Rosalind and I instructions since we were both novices at flying, although Rosalind had obviously done it before because she had mentioned that she was sensitive to fairy dust. "Follow me."

We swooped down after Puck, falling out of the sky like an atomic bomb from those World War II footages that we were forced to watch in history class last semester. It was amazingly easy to allow myself to free fall through the sky like that, the wind blowing through my hair, without having to worry about ejecting a parachute or dying. I was safe as long as the magic of the fairy dust remained and I still had a good while too since it took a few hours for it to wear off completely.

I dove and spun around several times like a missile, laughing and having fun like I was a kid again. I could now see why Puck was always so content—he could fly. Flying was absolutely the best thing ever. Birds were so lucky and I guess that fairies were too. They could fly whenever they wanted to. People like me on the other hand weren't so lucky. We needed something like fairy dust or airplanes to help us achieve such a highly romanticized dream.

And then, I was falling faster and faster. The ground below was rushing up to meet me. I was out of control suddenly and on a quick collision course with the paved streets of the square.

"Um, Anne, you might wanna slow down," Puck advised me as I zipped past him, not paying attention to how fast I was going until I noticed that I had picked up an awful lot of speed and momentum.

I tried to hit the brakes but I couldn't do it quick enough. I was diving too fast and I immediately started to panic like I did when Puck had first poured some fairy dust on me.

"I can't!" I screamed.

"Calm down!" Puck called down to me. He had tucked in his body and was flying down to me, slowly gaining on me. "Just relax and pull yourself up slowly. The fairy dust will prevent you from a crash landing if you allow it to do its job and slow your descent."

"But what if I can't slow my descent?" I yelled a question his way.

"Then, you will crash," Puck told me somberly.

"Into pavement! I don't think so!" I screamed, panicking even more.

"Listen to him, Anne," Rosalind piped up for the first time in a long while. I had almost forgotten that she was with Puck and me. She had been so quiet during our short journey from the school's courtyard. "Try to relax. We don't want you to be injured."

I didn't want to be injured either. So, I tried to relax and remember what Puck had taught me so far about flying.

I was so close to the ground now that I could see it really well. I was just above the rooftops of the taller buildings but I tried to ignore the possibility of death that was edging into my mind. I could even see Death's face in my head. It wasn't of a mysterious hooded figure that resembled the Grim Reaper though. It was the face of a woman, an ugly woman with hair the color of ebony and the blackest eyes I had ever seen, like the eyes of demons from that one television show about the two cute brothers who travel around the United States in an old black Chevy Impala fighting supernatural creatures. She was so ugly, yet she resembled Lachesis—the beautiful red-haired woman—so much in her facial features. Now, how was that possible?

I concentrated on slowing my falling body and I started to slow down almost at once as though my flying instincts had finally kicked in. I righted myself so that my legs were facing downwards. Even though I had slowed considerably, I was still coming in too hot. I fell beneath the rooftops of the smaller building now. Puck was above my head but he was not close enough to grab me. I put all of my efforts into decelerating some more, trying to allow the fairy dust to keep me hovering enough so that I didn't hurtle into the pavement. Even though I would hit feet first, it still would hurt very badly and I was going fast enough to break limbs, I think.

A memory came to me and I remembered when I was in orchestra during my middle school years. When I was in the eighth grade, my class took a trip to a nearby city to perform in a two-day event. The hotel that we stayed in overnight had a pavilion in a lovely courtyard out back by the pool. My orchestra class stayed on the second floor and a window in one of the rooms led right to the top of the pavilion. Well, a few classmates and I thought it would be thrillingly fun to jump off of the top of the pavilion. I was the guinea pig who got to go first and the jump wasn't too high. Anyone could do it and not get seriously hurt. Bearing that thought in mind, I had leapt off of the pavilion and down to the grassy courtyard below. All I could remember was the pain of the impact that shot up my legs the moment that my feet touched solid earth. The pain was quick but so intense that I wobbled on the spot for a few seconds before I toppled over backwards to land on my behind. The experience wasn't pleasant and I knew that I was about to relive it again.

The pavement was close now, a little too close. I could see individual impressions and cracks in the surface. Still, I slowed but the time had come for impact. How hard would I hit? I was too scared to find out. I prayed and prayed silently that the fairy dust would catch me again. I liked it better when it was making me rise off of the ground, I realized too late.

I closed my eyes and awaited that sensation. But it never happened. I opened my eyes, confused. I looked down and saw that I was suspended in mid-air, hovering inches above the ground. I was ecstatic. The fairy dust had saved me. It had helped me from landing roughly. But then, I noticed that I wasn't getting any higher. I was just floating in the same spot.

I looked back over my shoulder. Rosalind was behind me and moving about in a motion that looked as though she was treading water to keep herself from floating away. Puck was nearby and he had a hand raised. He was performing magic. He was smiling and keeping me locked in place.

"Puck! Release me!" I cried.

"Shh!" Puck hushed me. "Be quiet before someone hears you." He chuckled.

"Release me now!" I hissed, a little quieter. The last thing we needed was for someone to happen to venture through the square and see the three of us suspended above the ground. It would be a sight to behold and could happen as a few of the places in the square was still open. It was pretty late into the night but not too late.

Puck performed a mock bow. "Your wish is my command."

He lowered his hand and I fell. With an "oof!" I belly-flopped and crumpled to the street. Puck howled with laughter and my body shook with rage. My chest and abdomen also hurt and so did my pride.

I stood up and looked daggers at Puck. "I didn't tell you to drop me!" I screamed at him, not caring who heard me. "That really hurt!"

"But it was pretty funny too," Puck said. "And besides, you told me to release you and that's what I did. I released you from the spell of the fairy dust."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, before I became suddenly aware that I was standing on my own two feet and not hovering in mid-air.

"I released you, silly!" Puck said jovially and even Rosalind snickered a bit then.

"Very funny," I told Puck sarcastically. "Now, release Rosalind so we can get this meeting over with."

Puck did as he was told with occasional giggles. I swore that he laughed more so than gossiping schoolgirls.

After Puck reversed the spell on Rosalind as well, the two of them landed a lot more gracefully than I had because they had been expecting to do so, where as I had been caught off guard. Together, the three of us walked up the road to the Merchant's Library.

"You have to admit that that was pretty funny," Puck said, making conversation while we walked. I would have preferred him to remain silent. Puck also talked more than those gossiping schoolgirls as well.

"That was not funny," I told him. "Remind me to try that on you one day and see how you like it."

Puck grinned a little too wide for my liking. He was thinking hard, thinking about what I had just said. "Perhaps you will," he said, sounding way too excited for my liking too. It was like I was suddenly anti-Puck or something. I mean, don't get me wrong I liked him alright, but there was sometimes that I wanted to pretend that he was a bath towel and wring his little neck.

I caught on fairly quickly to what he was thinking. "I didn't choose my words carefully enough and I didn't mean what I just said. There probably won't be a 'one day', so don't get any ideas. I have not decided to help you guys yet and I am going into this meeting with Othello and Antonio with the intent in turning down any proposals that involve me going to the world of Shakespeare."

"Just don't go into it with a one-sided attitude," Rosalind said quietly. She had hesitated and I believed she hadn't wanted to say those words to me but had felt that they were essential enough to be said.

I fell silent. I didn't have anything to say to that.

I reached the entrance to the Merchant's Library first and I tried to open the door. The lock clicked several times as if taunting me since I couldn't open the door. Of course, it would be locked. What was I thinking? That I was going to be able to march in the bookstore like I owned the place?

"It's locked," I announced.

Puck stepped forward. "Most locks are susceptible to unlocking by magic and human locks are definitely not an exception," he told me. He did his hand waving thingie and I heard a different clicking noise than when I tried to open the locked door.

I tried the doorknob again and the door opened. The bell chimed, signaling our arrival as the three of us piled into the sales floor. Once again, I found myself standing inside of the Merchant's Library and I couldn't believe that it had only been a little over twenty-four hours since I had visited last. A lot had happened in a day and now, I was back.

I was nervous like before cause both situations were very similar. I wasn't actually trying to get a job this time around, yet Othello and the others had a job for me if I was interested. I was nervous because I was uncertain if I would be able to turn down their request now. Flying had nearly been enough just for me to tell Puck and Rosalind that I would help them, but I had resisted the urge.

We walked through the dark room and weaved around bookshelves. By the time we had reached the hallway that led to the infamous backroom that Antonio used as his private stores, I could see a small light approaching us, which got bigger and bigger as we got closer to it. I shielded my eyes from the brightness of the glow, until I could see a shadowy face above what I could make out to be a lantern. It was Antonio. He had come to lead us the rest of the way through obscurity.

Antonio held the lantern up to see our faces better as he came to a halt in front of us. "Puck, Rosalind? You have returned," he said by way of a greeting. "And you've brought her back with you. Anne Hathaway? It is a pleasure to see you again." He blushed suddenly and scratched the top of his head with his free hand. "I'm uh, sorry, we got off on the wrong foot yesterday." He then held out the hand that he had just used to scratch his head.

I shook his hand. "Apology accepted," I told him. "And sorry that your ring was stolen."

Antonio looked darkly and I thought that he was angry with me and was going to start yelling like he had done yesterday. I braced myself and expected an onslaught of anger but Antonio didn't yell. Instead, he said, "About that. I really didn't blame you for it yesterday. I was just mad that one of my prized possessions had been taken. You see, that ring was a special ring."

"I thought it was a replica of Leah's ring," I informed him. "I'm sorry. I didn't know why it was so dear to you then."

Antonio chortled suddenly, which caught me off guard since he was upset the moment before. "No, no, no, my dear child. That ring was no fake. The ring was real."

"You mean, that truly was Leah's ring!" I marveled.

"That's right," Antonio said. "You have read most if not all of the prophecies before, if I am not mistaken, so of course you would know all about Leah's ring."

"I bet there is one thing that she doesn't know about Leah's ring," Puck said.

"And what's that?" I wondered curiously.

Antonio was silent and seemed to be debating whether or not to answer my question. Before he could react too much, Puck opened his big mouth and gave me an entire spiel.

"I can't believe you didn't know this already but what you call Leah's ring is actually one of the only widely known relics of the Seven Relics. The rest of the Relics have been speculated for centuries and are only known to those few who have actually found them. But Leah's ring is the only one that everyone knows is an actual Relic."

"Wow," I said, utterly amazed. I would have never suspected such a plain and trivial ring to be one of the famous Seven Relics, but then again, in my dream the only two Relics I had seen was a skull and a ring—Leah's ring. Caliban had given it to the Dark Lady and Hostpur had given her the skull. I was one up on Antonio, Rosalind, and Puck, since I knew about two of the Relics. But I would not tell them that. I didn't want anyone to know about my bizarre dreams. They were irrelevant to everything anyways.

"So, what does the ring do?" I questioned them.

"Ah, that's the mystery, you see," Puck replied as expected. "No one knows what the ring can really do."

"I was trying to figure it out though," Antonio said. "But to no avail. Now, it doesn't matter anymore as it was stolen from me. That's why I am glad that you are here, Anne. If you can help us find the Relics, I will be able to have the ring returned to me and perhaps we could learn what it can do."

I felt bad for Antonio and some sympathy for him, but I didn't want to make any promises when it was still so early in the ballgame. "I'm sorry that it was stolen," I stated a second time, apologizing for something that I didn't do.

Antonio looked sour again. "It's okay, Anne, really," he commented. "I am aware of the culprit anyways."

I was shocked. "You know who stole the ring?"

Antonio nodded. "He confessed after the debacle at your apartment. I was surprised that he had confessed really. It is not in Caliban's nature to act in such a way."

I knew it! I knew Caliban was the one who had taken the ring. I had seen him with it in my dreams. Maybe my dreams were kind of like the Shakespearean prophecies in a way. Maybe my dreams could predict the future.

"Caliban was the one who stole it while I was unconscious?" I asked, doing a good job of adding surprise to my voice.

"He sure was," Antonio said. "He claims that he stole it and gave it to the Dark Lady pretending to be on her side. When the moment was right, he was going to take all of the Seven Relics and use them to defeat the Dark Lady and her growing rebellion."

"Or so he claimed," Rosalind scoffed. Again, I had almost forgotten that she was there; she had been so quiet lately. Or maybe it was just because Puck talked way too much. "Caliban is in league with the Dark Lady and he knows it. He wasn't going to take the Relics from her. He was going to help her to world domination if it meant that he was going to get a nice paycheck from it all. The Dark Lady offered him some incentive for joining her. I mean, what incentive does he have for not betraying us and the Sycorax?"

"True," Antonio mused. "What you say is true, Rosalind; however, Caliban has been working as a double agent for a long time. He is very good at what he does, I have to say, and even though we are unsure of his intentions—whether good or bad—I think that Caliban was telling me the truth. He is a selfish person and what he told me sounded like something a selfish person would say. He didn't mention that he would get the King's Men and the Sycorax to help him use the Seven Relics to defeat the Dark Lady. No, he said that he and only he would use them."

"Is Caliban still here?" I inquired. I didn't want to see him at all. Not only had he tried to kidnap me and force me to help him find the Seven Relics, but he had also stolen Leah's ring—one of the Seven Relics—from Antonio. The nerve of him! I didn't care if Caliban was a double agent and supposed to be fighting on the good side, he was selfish and just plainly bad news.

Antonio shook his head. "No, he is gone."

"Thank God," I breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully, I would never have to see that vile, disfigured man again. I know that wasn't a nice thing to call Caliban—disfigured—but he deserved it. In fact, he really deserved to be called much worse. I was being nice stating the truth. I mean, he was disfigured and everyone who could see him knew that.

Antonio nodded but I wasn't sure if it was in agreement or not. "He and Will left not too long ago. They headed back to Shakespeare together."

My heart dropped from my chest down to somewhere around my mid-section. "Will," I gasped aloud, not caring if the others heard me or not. I felt a tugging of regret and a twinge of sadness. Will was gone because of me. I had been overly cruel to him and he had left the world he had come to love so much to return to Shakespeare. He was gone because he no longer loved this world—my world—because he believed that I no longer loved him. But I did love him still. I would always love him and cherish him. For as long as I lived, he would always have a place in my heart for being the first boy that I had ever fallen head over heels for. But what he didn't understand was that he had lied to me for far too long and that our relationship had to end because of it.

I didn't know if Antonio had heard me whisper Will's name or not but he said. "I know that Will was a friend of yours and I know it pains you to know that he has left as much as it pains me. He was so depressed. I had never seen him in such a state before. I was worried about him and tried to talk to him, but he wouldn't tell me what was going on. He had told me that he had found you and had spoken with you and I couldn't understand why he was willing to leave. He wasn't here for too long and I want to know what was going on with him. So, if you don't mind me asking: What happened?"

That was a question that I definitely wanted to avoid.

I hesitated before saying, "Will and I have a very complicated relationship," I told Antonio, starting to formulate a quick lie to get myself out of this touchy subject matter. "We are like best friends and I think I really hurt him when I told him that I wouldn't be going to Shakespeare with you all."

Antonio looked dejected. "So, you have made your decision then?" he questioned me.

I shrugged. "I don't know what I want anymore," I said. Thinking about Will again had me suddenly down in the dumps and I wanted nothing more but to experience flying again.

"Anne? Do me a favor, okay?" Antonio said to me. "I want you to think for a second and really ask yourself what you are doing here. If you decide that you don't want to be here, then there is no point in you staying here any longer. But if you want to be here, then we will proceed upstairs to where Othello and Ariel are waiting for us."

I thought about it like Antonio said. Images of Will kept intruding however and I found myself thinking more about my ex-boyfriend—that felt so weird to call him that—than about if I really want to be in the Merchant's Library at that time.

I wanted to see Will again. I didn't want to take back what I said but I wanted to at least tell him that he shouldn't have left because of me. It wouldn't change anything but it would make me feel better, a little bit more at ease with our breakup. I didn't want to be the reason why he returned to Shakespeare.

Well, from the looks of things, it seemed that the only way I would be able to see Will again was if I went to Shakespeare with the members of the King's Men. So did that mean that I wanted to be in the Merchant's Library? Would I hear Othello and Antonio out with the notion that I might have the chance to see Will again?

Yes, I told myself. Yes, I would and I would even go along with them to Shakespeare if I could see Will again. I didn't want him to leave me forever without a proper farewell. We had ended our last conversation on bad terms and I wanted to make them right as well. If we never got back together ever again, I would come to terms with it a lot smoother if we ended things on a good note. I wanted for us to at least try to become friends. Other than Melody and Alice, Will was also one of my best friends and had been for the past year. Now, it seemed like we didn't even know each other anymore.

"I want to be here," I told Antonio. "I want to hear what you and Othello have to tell me. Then, I will make my decision."

But hadn't I made my choice already?

Antonio smiled. "All right then. Follow me."

Holding the lantern aloft, Antonio led Rosalind, Puck, and me down the length of the familiar hallway and into the backroom. The room looked so different in the dark, but yet everything was still there except for the ring, of course. I looked up at the second floor and found the prophecies. Although they were no longer glowing, I knew exactly where they were and could make them out even in the dark.

"The prophecies are still glowing," Puck said happily.

I was bewildered. I was staring right at them, I was sure, and they were not glowing anymore. Was Puck seeing things?

"The prophecies aren't glowing," I informed him. "They stopped glowing ever since I read from one of them."

Puck was equally confused. "No," he insisted. "They are still glowing with a pretty golden light. Rosalind? Aren't they glowing?"

Rosalind nodded, confirming that Puck wasn't going crazy and that I was the one who was going crazy. "Puck is right. They are glowing."

"That's impossible!" I exclaimed.

"Not impossible, my dear child," Antonio said. "The prophecies are glowing, yet they are not glowing at the same time. That's the beauty of the magic that surrounds the prophecies. They only glow and are made to look enticing to the eyes of those of us who hadn't had the luxury of reading from any of them. Puck, Rosalind, and I can see the effulgence that the prophecies are giving off because they are trying to invite us to come and read about our futures or the futures of our friends and enemies. You, on the other hand, have read from one of the prophecies. That is why they do not glow for you anymore."

I nodded in understanding. "I see," I said, glad to know that I wasn't going crazy.

We walked over to the ladder that led up to the second floor. Puck once again demonstrated his expertise in flight and glided up to the upper level instead of making use of the ladder. Antonio stepped aside and allowed Rosalind and I to climb up before he did. He trailed us shortly thereafter and guided us around the corner and to a doorway.

I had been up on the second level before but I had never ventured through the doorway. I knew that it led to Antonio's home and it dawned on me that I had never visited the home of a person from Shakespeare before since Will never took me to his place. I wondered what it would be like. Would Antonio's apartment look modern or would it look like a home from Elizabethan times? Like a castle, perhaps?

Antonio performed a quick spell on the door and we were granted access. I followed closely behind Antonio and through the doorway. Rosalind and Puck came through behind me.

We were in a gloomy hallway. Stairs were all that was present here—we hadn't made it quite to Antonio's apartment yet. We climbed the stairs quietly and at the top we came to another closed door. Antonio did the same thing he had done downstairs and the door was unlocked.

We stepped through the second door and into a well-lit parlor room, a nice change from the gloomy storeroom. Light was spilling from a chandelier overhead and I was surprised at how modern the decoration was in Antonio's apartment. He had a sofa and several chairs and even a television, although it wasn't a plasma one but an old floor model version. The walls were painted solid colors, nothing too fancy and there was carpet beneath my shoes instead of a cold, stone floor as I had predicted.

Sitting on the couch was Othello. Ariel was by the window, floating.

Othello stood up to greet us when we entered. "Anne Hathaway," he said. "You have come." He approached me and held out his hand. "My name is Othello and it is a pleasure to finally get the opportunity to meet you."

I shook his hand. The King's Men members were more pleasant than I had expected. "You too, Othello. I am honored to meet you." I waved at Ariel who had looked over at us. "Hey," I remembered my manners and greeted her as well. "It's nice to see you again. You're Ariel right?"

Ariel glided over to me instead of walking. She was a ghost after all and didn't have the need to walk.

"You can see me?" she asked me, fascinated by such an idea.

I was blown away by this. "Of course, I can see you," I told her. "Why wouldn't I be able to see you?"

Ariel beamed and was smiling so much that she didn't answer me. It was Othello who responded.

"Ariel is a spirit, a soul who was bound to life even after death. She is a ghost from the world of Shakespeare and can only be seen by Shakespeareans. You, as a human girl, should not be able to see her at all, yet you can. This is a strange phenomenon and the only explanation that I have for it is that you can see Ariel since you are tied to the prophecy you read that has you also tied you to the Seven Relics."

"Or maybe it is because of the Prophecy of the Sycorax somehow?" Puck suggested. "I don't know how it can be possible since Anne is a girl but what if she is a part of the Prophecy."

Othello considered this possibility. Again, someone mentioned the Prophecy of the Sycorax and I was dying to know what it entailed. I remembered snippets of Caliban explaining it from one of my dreams but I still didn't know much about it.

"Will someone please tell me what the Prophecy of the Sycorax is?" I asked, exasperation in about half of my voice.

All eyes fell upon Othello, the superior officer here. They all looked at him as though he was the only one who could answer me, or I guess I should say that he was the only one who was authorized to make the decision on whether or not to answer me. Even some of them, like Puck and Ariel, looked at Othello with mild curiosity. I noticed that they were all staring at Othello and I pretended not to notice. Othello pretended too or maybe he just didn't care or was used to such gazes of intrigue.

"The Prophecy of the Sycorax is an ancient prophecy," Othello began in a booming and majestic voice like that of a regal orator. I stared at him too. I couldn't believe that he was going to tell me about the prophecy. "Though it is not as old as the prophecies in the glowing manuscripts that were penned by William Shakespeare, the Prophecy of the Sycorax was made not too long after the manuscripts were written by a group of wild, cannibalistic people known as the Sycorax.

"The Sycorax from way back then were nothing like the swordsmen that go by the same name today. The Sycorax people inhabited a small uncharted island and were more like shaman than mystics—or people who can utilize magic. They wasted their time researching the magical arts of healing and prophecy. Some say that some Sycorax learned to conquer death but I say that those who believe those cock-and-bull myths are insane. Others say that the Sycorax struck a deal with Atropos, or the witch-goddess of Death, which is why they were experts at healing, but I believe that to be rubbish as well. What I actually believe in, however, is the Prophecy that was made by the Sycorax prior to the unexpected disappearance of their race.

"There is speculation as to who among the Sycorax actually stated the prophecy but that is irrelevant. What matters is that the prophecy was made and as the years went by, most people of Shakespeare have come to worship the prophecy as though it is a religion."

"Like us fairies!" Puck said proudly, beaming like usual.

Othello nodded. "Yes, it is hard to find a fairy who doesn't believe in the Prophecy of the Sycorax," he agreed with Puck.

"But what is the prophecy exactly?" I asked Othello, almost begging him to tell me. I felt like he was beating around the bush way too much. I didn't want a history lesson. I got enough of those at school.

"The main clause of the prophecy states that after many years of peace and prosperity following the reign of the first true king—William Shakespeare—the world of Shakespeare would finally be thrust into chaos and strife," Othello explained at long last. I listened carefully, catching on to his each and every word. "It was said by one of the Sycorax that during that time of chaos and strife, a new leader would rise from obscurity to claim the throne of Shakespeare. He will relieve the Golden Rulers, the kings of the Three Thrones, of their duties and alone he will rule Shakespeare with a heavy hand and restore peace to the entire world.

"Magical torches called the Royal Beacons would be lit once the king was discovered, to signal that the king—Shakespeare's true heir—would be coming to power soon. That is the main clause of the prophecy but others believe that there is more to the prophecy or people have added false amendments to it over the years. The main clause is the only thing that I believe in. The rest of the tales that I have heard about the prophecy I take with a grain of salt."

"Why do you believe that Shakespeare's heir will one day rule Shakespeare and bring back a Golden Age?" I was curious to know. "What makes you believe that part of the prophecy and not the other stories that you have heard?"

"Because I have proof of the Royal Beacons," Othello informed me. "They were built centuries ago and they stand in the heart of the Three Thrones, the very place where the three kingdoms meet. There are seven in all and they enclose the courtyard of the headquarters of the King's Men—Propsero's Manor. Recently, they were lit magically on their own accord. Four golden flames and three silver flames now light up the courtyard and it means that the heir has been located. Soon, and I hope soon enough, he will finally be revealed and reclaim the throne that is rightfully his."

"But how long will that take?" I was full of questions now. "Days? Weeks? Years even?"

"We are not certain," Antonio joined the conversation. "We do not know how long it will take for the heir to be revealed to the public. He will be marked by a crown on the back of his hand. Once marked, it is left up to him to reveal himself and secure his destiny."

"This mark, is it like a tattoo?" I asked.

Antonio who knew what a tattoo was nodded. Everyone else looked stumped. I was grateful that Antonio had lived in the human world long enough to know what I was talking about. "Yes," he replied. "It will look just like a tattoo."

"Then, the prophecy can speak of anyone," I concluded. "Wouldn't it be hard to tell who the heir was if everyone went and got the same crown-shaped tattoo on the back of one of their hands?"

"No, it wouldn't be," Antonio enlightened me. Apparently, I didn't know enough about the prophecy yet to make assumptions like the one I had made. "The tattoo—mark—that the heir bears is different than any mark that a person could get whether by needle, branding, or even magic. You see, the mark of the heir will glow brightly like the prophecies downstairs in the presence of not only the Royal Beacons but also in the presence of the Seven Relics."

"That is why many believe that the Prophecy of the Sycorax is closely correlated to the Seven Relics," Othello picked up where Antonio had left off and they overburdened be with information now, so that it was hard to keep up. "People have invented stories that tie the Seven Relics to the prophecy in more ways than just the mark of the chosen heir. The one story that prevails above the others is that a lot of people think that the heir is also the rightful master of the Seven Relics, that only he can truly wield them and unleash their ultimate power."

I understood then why Puck would wonder if I was the person that the prophecy speaks of. Maybe there was a deeper meaning to why the King's Men wanted me to help them recover the Relics. Not only would I know—and this is hopefully by a long stretch of the imagination—where the Relics were now located, but maybe they were hoping that I would be the master of the Relics as well. If that were true, then maybe they even considered that I might be the heir of Shakespeare, which was just downright impossible. I was human. I was not Shakespearean. Surely whoever believed my hypothesis had lost his or her mind. I couldn't even figure out why such a thought had crossed my own mind.

Still, I said, "So you think that I might be the one? The heir and the master?"

Othello shook his head. "You can't be," he said. "There is no 'true' master of the Relics and the prophecy speaks of a male heir, not a female heir. I am sorry."

"There's no need to be sorry," I told him happily. "It's actually a relief to know that I am not either."

"I know the prophecy speaks of a male heir," Puck spoke up. I think that in the past few minutes, he had shattered a record with his silence. "But I can't help but to think that perhaps the prophecy is wrong."

Puck might as well have blasphemed. Everyone rounded on him and Rosalind narrowed her eyes at him. "You stole my idea!" she accused him. "I was the one who thought that perhaps the prophecy was wrong."

Puck threw up his hands in self-defense. "Calm down for a second and hear me out," he said to Rosalind and to the others, buying himself some time to explain. "I don't know if Anne has anything to do with the prophecy but what if it was wrong anyways. What if the one who read from one of the Shakespearean prophecies is the master of the Seven Relics and what if the descendant of kings is a completely different person."

Othello squashed Puck's reasoning. "How many times must I say it: There is no master of the Relics. That part of the prophecy is made up."

"Just because you don't believe in it doesn't make it fact or fiction, my friend," Antonio told Othello. "Ever since we had our discussion last night, I have been thinking along the same lines as Puck. I know that Prospero would not reveal why one of the prophecies were tied to the discovery of the Seven Relics, but the only reason I could think of was that Prospero wanted whoever would read from the one book to be the one who could find the Relics and use them to assist the heir in securing the throne."

Prospero. The name was familiar to me as well. He was the great magician from the play The Tempest. His name was mentioned several times in my dreams and what I have come to gather from those nightly visits to the world of Shakespeare, Prospero was one of the leaders of the King's Men. His manor was the headquarters for the King's Men so my speculation made sense. Him and Oberon, another fairy like Puck who was a character in A Midsummer Night's Dream, were the two that everyone—Othello included—answered to.

So, Prospero knew a lot more than he was letting his soldiers know. Interesting and that was so like Prospero's character from the play—I mean, prophecy. He was always so enigmatic when he was hatching his plans of revenge against his brother and those who helped his brother take what was rightfully his. He was a little mad but a genius nonetheless. If anyone would be perfect to lead the King's Men it would be Prospero.

"Now that is something I never thought about," Othello said and he started pacing back and forth across the parlor room. "I wish Prospero would tell us something, anything, so we would know for sure."

"Maybe Prospero doesn't know himself," I speculated.

"That can't be true," Ariel said in an ethereal voice. If you actually listened to how her voice sounded, you would find it beautiful and slightly creepy sometimes. "Prospero is the wisest person I have ever known. He knows everything."

"No one knows everything," I said. "Prospero may be a genius but he doesn't know everything."

Suddenly, Ariel looked as though I had insulted her personally. "You're wrong," she said to me. "Prospero knows everything."

All right then. She was one of those devoted followers of a leader who was as precious as diamonds in her eyes. Okay. Well, I wouldn't argue with her. I didn't want Ariel to curse me or anything and it wasn't like I could hurt her at all either. She was dead for crying out loud.

"If you say so, then I believe that Prospero knows everything," I told Ariel. She smiled and looked happy again. She also looked smug.

Othello stopped pacing suddenly. "I don't know if you are right Antonio, Puck, and even you, Rosalind, but I must say this: What you all believe have brought new insight to me about the Seven Relics and the Prophecy of the Sycorax. I would like to reflect on what you have told me; however, now is not the time." He faced me. "Anne Hathaway? I think you deserve an explanation as to why we, along with Caliban, came to your apartment today."

"Please just call me Anne," I said. "And you don't have to explain. I think I know by now that you want me to help you all recover the Seven Relics."

"Well, that's it in a nutshell, yes," Othello said. "But what you have to understand is that the Relics are very important. The time of chaos and strife that the Prophecy of the Sycorax speaks of has come to pass. A war is brewing. The Dark Lady is building an army, allying herself with mysterious people known as the Critics. We don't know where the Critics come from and why they have come to our world. All we know is that they are in league with the Dark Lady and that an attack is imminent. There are already rebellions in one of the Three Thrones. The rebellions are minuscule of course, but sources claim that the Dark Lady is at the helm of these tedious scuffles, setting us up for a major invasion. Our spies are trying to gather as much information as possible about the newly formed Dark Alliance, the combination of the Critics' and the Dark Lady's forces of evil.

"Since we don't know how long it will take for the descendant of Shakespeare to be revealed, the Seven Relics are our only hope, our only weapon, or weapons I should say, against the Dark Alliance. We outnumber the Dark Alliance presently, but there numbers are growing daily. Ours, unfortunately, aren't. It is imperative that we recover the Seven Relics as soon as possible and we believe that you can help us with that task. Prospero says that you are bound to the Relics by reading from one of the glowing prophecies because the moment that you read from the book, the Seven Relics disappeared and are now hidden, scattered throughout the world of Shakespeare in various locations, which is a good thing since the Dark Lady had managed to acquire all seven of them and was poised to becoming the supreme ruler of Shakespeare.

"We have eluded her attempt at taking over Shakespeare once and by accident. Next time, I don't believe that we will be so lucky unless we find the Seven Relics first."

I decided to point out something that I had noticed about Othello. "If you believe in the prophecy so much, why is finding the relics so important? The relics shouldn't matter if the heir is revealed and claims the throne."

"Ah, but the prophecy is just a prophecy meaning that there is no guarantee that it will come true," Othello said.

"But you just said—" I started to point out something else but Othello stopped me.

"When a prophecy is told, it is told with the intent of predicting a future event," Othello explained. "And it is just that: A prediction. Predictions are not fact, Anne. Predictions are merely speculations of what may or may not come to pass. A prophecy gives the persons it speaks of a choice. The people who are involved in the prophecy cause it to occur or not occur by his or her actions. Yes, a part of the prophecy is already taking place in the world of Shakespeare because the Dark Lady has already made the choice to become the villain and bring the chaos and strife to a previously peaceful world. The rest of the prophecy will play out only if the marked heir decides to embrace his destiny. If he remains hidden among the rest of the citizens of Shakespeare, never to reveal his true identity, then the line of Shakespeare will be broken and who knows what might happen then if the Dark Lady is successful or unsuccessful in her efforts. But if the heir reveals himself, then he will restore peace and prosperity to our world.

"But we cannot rely on the heir to be revealed. There is so much at stake. The Dark Lady is moving quickly, ready to mobilize her troops and we must stay one step ahead of her. That is why we want to find the Relics and that is why we need you, Anne. You are bound to the Relics whether you like it or not. That part you do not have a choice in; nonetheless, we shall imagine that this is a prophecy that you are a part of and we will give you a choice on whether or not you will go to Shakespeare with us and assist us on our quest. We cannot force you to come with us. Because of free will and because you have a choice, it is up to you to decide your destiny, just like the heir of the Prophecy of the Sycorax."

Othello stopped speaking and fell silent. Man, he was good at convincing people. The way he spoke was simply astonishing. He had phrased his words so carefully that I was left to wonder how could I resist the invitation now? It was so clear that the King's Men needed me and they wanted more than anything for me to lend my assistance, yet they gave me a choice. I alone would decide what to do and perhaps even the fate of the world of Shakespeare. It was all left up to me. The King's Men could possibly recover the Relics without me, but how long would that take? The war could be over by then and then what? If the heir never showed himself, then would they be doomed anyways? So many questions bombarded my ravaged little mind that I wanted to scream. There were so many possible outcomes that could occur because of my decision. I didn't want anything bad to happen to Shakespeare but at the same time I was unsure if I could help the King's Men at all. Again, I reminded myself that I was only a human. I couldn't fight and I couldn't perform magic.

But Puck had told me that I could learn. He had said that I could learn magic and perhaps I could learn how to swordfight as well.

A picture of Will floated into my head then. I really wanted to see him again. He was back in Shakespeare now because of me and I had to make things right . . . .

I was going to hate myself for this I was sure, but I think I had reached a decision. It had been obvious for a while now and I just couldn't see it happening until now.

"Take all of the time you need to think your decision over," Othello told me and I almost didn't hear him because I was trying to find the courage to announce my final decision. Once I pronounced it, it would be too late to take it back. I wanted to rethink things through but I didn't permit myself to. This was what I wanted and I would accept it.

With the possibility of exploring a place I had never been before, a place that I knew so well, yet didn't know so well just the same; the possibility of seeing Will again; as well as the possibility of learning combat and magic, I finally had the audacity to say this:

"I don't need anymore time. I know what I want to do."

"And that will be?" Othello pressed.

I could feel everyone's eyes upon me. It was like I was making an elaborate speech in front of thousands of people who were all watching my every move. Beads of sweat started to build on my forehead but I ignored them.

I took a deep breath and I carried through with what I had to say, delivering it without too many stutters. "I will accompany you all on your journey but on one condition."

Puck cheered ecstatically. Rosalind and Ariel smiled. Antonio looked relieved and Othello betrayed no emotion, although I knew that he was just as excited as the rest of them.

"And that will be?" Othello repeated.

"That you promise to teach me all of the skills that I would need to protect myself if need be," I fed them my one condition. "I will be in an unfamiliar place and I will be scared. But if you will promise to teach me how to defend myself and how to use magic, then I know that I will be fine. Puck told me that I could learn magic and I would like to learn as much as possible."

"That can be arranged," Othello assured me. "In fact, I will take you on as my own apprentice. I will be your guardian."

"Are you sure, Othello?" Antonio asked him. "Prospero may not approve of this. You know that humans are not allowed to learn magic. It is against the law."

"I am aware of the laws, Antonio," Othello reminded him, "and I am sure that Prospero would make an exception in this case, as would the people of Shakespeare."

Antonio appeared uncertain by this idea but he didn't voice his disagreement. Not even the newly formed scowl on his face could hide the elation that he felt by my decision.

"Now that you will come with us, Anne, we must leave as soon as possible," Othello told me.

"That's fine," I said. "But before we go, I was wondering"—and I hesitated for a moment—"I was wondering if I could, if I could go home and say goodbye to my sister, Alice, and my best friend, Melody. I'm sure that they are really worried about me since I wasn't home when they arrived. I just want them to know that I am safe."

Othello's voice was grave when he answered me, but his face showed no emotion. "I'm sorry, Anne, but we can't allow you to do that."

"What about your speech about having a choice?" I threw at him. "Do I not get a choice in this matter?"

"I'm afraid not," Othello told me. "We have strict laws in Shakespeare about humans knowing about our world and we may make an exception for you because of current circumstances, but your sister and your friend are not allowed to know anything. We are sworn to secrecy. Again, I am sorry."

Tears started to well up in my eyes. I didn't know if I would ever get to see Alice and Melody again and Othello was denying my chance to give them a final goodbye. Damn the laws of Shakespeare! If I was leaving, then I should be allowed to see my sister and best friend one last time. Why did I agree to help them? I was regretting my decision already.

"I can make up something! I could tell them anything!" I pleaded with Othello. "I just want to see them once last time. Please!"

Othello shook his head. "We can't risk it. I'm sorry, Anne. Please don't ask me again." He looked over at Antonio. "Let us contact Prospero to tell him the good news and then, we will be on our way."

Antonio nodded and headed for the only doorway in the sitting room that didn't lead out of the apartment. Othello returned to his perch on the sofa and gazed at the wall. That was it then. There was no use in me pleading anymore. He would not listen. There was no way that I could get him to bend the laws for me.

I sat down on the floor and sobbed. As much as I wanted to see Will again, I didn't want to leave without saying bye to Alice and Melody. I didn't know what would become of the two of them if I never returned. Alice had already lost our parents and now she might lose me as well. I couldn't bear to think about that. And poor Melody! The two of us had become such close friends over the past year. She was like a second sister to me and I would be leaving her behind as well and for what? To help save a world that I didn't belong to.

"Well, can I at least go home and pack up some of my clothes and some of my belongings?" I asked Othello, my eyes blurry from tears.

He looked at me and didn't react at all to my crying. "Everything that you could possibly need will be provided for you when we reach Shakespeare."

I sobbed even more and Antonio returned to the room. I was defeated and out of ways to plead some more with Othello.

"Othello," Antonio said.

Without looking at me, Othello got up from the sofa and followed Antonio into the room that Antonio had gone into earlier. The two of them disappeared for a while and I could hear their voices, although I could not make out what was being said.

Rosalind came over to me and comforted me. "It'll be all right, Anne," she promised me. "It will be difficult at first, but it will get better eventually."

"Besides, you will have Rosalind and I to watch over you," Puck chimed in.

"That's right," Rosalind agreed with him. "We will remain by your side as much as possible, Anne, and help you adjust to life in Shakespeare."

"Thank you guys," I said, genuinely grateful for their kind words. "Thank you. That means a lot to me."

"You're welcome," Rosalind said, before leaning down to whisper in my ear. "And here's a little secret: You might get to see your sister and friend again sooner than you think. Time passes differently in Shakespeare than it does here. For every hour you spend here, it is a day in Shakespeare. You could spend an entire month in Shakespeare and only be a away from your sister and friend for a little over a day."

I perked up a little then. That was very useful information to know and I was greatly appreciative.

"Thank you for telling me that," I said to Rosalind, wiping the tears away. "That's good to know." It brought me some comfort to know that if we got the quest done quickly, I could be back home in no time. Of course, I would have to lie to Alice about where I had been and I hoped that it wouldn't cause problems of distrust in the future. Maybe I could get Puck or someone to alter Alice's memory so that she would forget that I was even gone and Melody's too. But no, that would be too cruel and I wasn't even sure if Puck or anyone else had an arsenal of memory charms anyways.

I looked over at Ariel then, who was gliding in front of the window, staring outside into the night, almost absently. I noticed that while Othello and Antonio, as well as occasional additions by Puck and Rosalind, were telling me about the Prophecy of Sycorax and requesting I help them locate the Seven Relics, Ariel kept mostly to herself and seemed separate from it all. I didn't know if it was because she was a ghost that made me realize something like that, but even though she had spoken a few times during the conversation, she had just seemed so distant.

"Ariel?" I called, desperate for conversation to help ease my troubled mind. I also felt bad for trying to convince her that Prospero didn't know everything. "So, humans cannot see you right?"

Ariel turned away from the window and glided towards me. "That's correct," Ariel said, thrilled that I was talking to her. I could tell that she was left out a lot. "Humans cannot see me at all but people from Shakespeare can only because I choose to be revealed."

"That's why the people at the restaurant could not see you when you were waiting with Othello for Antonio to arrive for lunch," I recalled.

"That's right," Ariel stated. "You were there at the restaurant. I remembered seeing you and I was curious because I thought you could see me, which it turns out that you can see me. I didn't think much of it then and I should have said something to Othello but I didn't. How ironic it was that we were looking for you and you happened to cross our path without us knowing that it was you whom we were searching for all along. It would have made things a lot easier, I would have imagined. And maybe what took place at your apartment would not have happened. Don't worry about the damage we caused though. We fixed everything before we left. Your sister won't suspect a thing."

"Except that I'm missing," I barely said. Trying to keep my mind from straying back to thoughts about Alice and Melody, the only family that I had now since Will and I were on bad terms, I said to Ariel. "But what I can't understand is why I can see you. I am human after all, so why do you think I can see you? I'm not sure I believe that it has something to do with the Seven Relics."

"Perhaps you are really Shakespearean," Puck joked and I never recalled asking him to join the conversation. This was a serious matter, which really took up tons of space within my head along with a million other thoughts and concerns and memories, and he had to make a joke out of everything.

"That's not funny, Puck," I told him. "You shouldn't joke about something like that."

"But what if Puck is not joking?" Ariel asked me. "What if there is some truth to his words? It would make sense that you are perhaps Shakespearean. After all, you can see me and humans aren't supposed to."

I shook my head. That was ridiculous and impossible, although I was beginning to finally open my eyes and see that nothing was really impossible anymore. After all, I had seen magic at work through various spells and even a cloak that could make people invisible. I had been tempted by one of the Three Witches, who greatly resembled the Three Fates of Greek Mythology and even had the same names, and so I knew that nothing was impossible. Yet I found it rather difficult to accept that I was Shakespearean. Even though I didn't think that was the case either, I would almost believe that my ability to see Ariel had something to do with my ties to the Seven Relics rather than me having Shakespearean blood running a course throughout my innards.

"I am not Shakespearean," I told them. "I am American."

"For all we know, you could be Shakespearean," Ariel said. "Shakespearean travelers and explorers have been journeying back and forth between the two worlds since the time of William Shakespeare even. Some have even settled here legally or illegally and I am certain that some of them have even fathered or mothered children with humans. After the passing of hundreds of human years, you never know who might be related to a Shakespearean lineage. There could have been someone at the restaurant who could even see me besides you, Anne, if they were a child of Shakespeare."

I never thought about it like that. Of course, there had been Shakespeareans living in my world for a very long time. William Shakespeare himself even lived here, going back and forth between this world at the one that he founded so long ago. He had made prophecies in the world of Shakespeare about a future generation, but had published those prophecies here as plays for the queen and drama productions to earn a living. Why he would do that when he was King of Shakespeare, I could only speculate, but nevertheless, he had even produced offspring in the human world himself. He had an entire line of descendants here and as Ariel pointed out, so did other Shakespeareans who came to live on the planet of Earth.

I looked to Rosalind. "So, essentially, Shakespeareans besides spirits and fairies, of course"—I winked once at Ariel and Puck in turn—"are humans."

Rosalind nodded. "Yes. I guess you can say that, although make sure not to say that when you enter the world of Shakespeare. Shakespeareans would take it as the worse insult ever if you referred to them as humans."

"Duly noted then," I said. "So I might be Shakespearean?" I asked anyone, not really caring to receive an answer. I didn't know how I felt about the possibility of me being Shakespearean since I never considered it before. There was plenty of doubts that remained telling me I wasn't, but there was a flicker of hope present too that told me I was. If I was Shakespearean, I don't know how the knowledge of that would change anything. I would wonder about my parents then and if they had known about our heritage, that's if to say if I was Shakespearean. And I also didn't like to think about my parents much anyways. It was a touchy subject and if I was indeed Shakespearean, I wouldn't be able to talk to them again. There were gone, long gone. I wondered if Alice knew something . . . . Stop it, Anne! I chided myself. Stop thinking about Alice! It will only make things harder.

"Like we said, there's a possibility that you might be," Ariel told me. "However, I have seen many strange things happen whenever magic is involved and maybe you can see me because of some unknown reason."

I was still baffled why I could see Ariel, and thinking about the likelihood of me being Shakespearean when Othello and Antonio returned to the parlor room from where I believed to be Antonio's bedroom.

"We have contacted Prospero and have told him that we have found you Anne and that you have agreed to help us," Othello said. "Prospero looks forward to seeing you and we must leave now. Before we go, I must remind you of something though. Your agreeing to help us recover the Relics is not a binding contract. If at anytime you no longer wish to help us, you may leave and return home with the promise that you will tell no human of your exploits while in Shakespeare. The road that you are about to travel will not be easy and it will be a dangerous one; however, the King's Men and the Sycorax will be there with you and for you along the way. Our sole duty will be to keep you safe from harm while we are searching for the Relics." Othello paused and then asked me. "Any questions?"

Of course, I had fifty bajillion questions. But they all could not be answered right now, as we needed to leave soon, so I shook my head. "I don't have any questions."

"Okay then," Othello seemed satisfied that I didn't have questions, or rather he was satisfied because I didn't ask them. He knew that I had a lot of questions. I had never been to Shakespeare before so naturally I would have questions and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out. "Let us take our leave."

It struck me like lightning then. I was about to leave the world and life I knew behind me. I was about to travel to a new and fascinating world that was much different than my own, a world that I was somewhat familiar with already due to an assortment of innocent and pleasurable research. That brought me some ease to my anxiety and was my only medicine—the knowledge of some familiarity with the world of Shakespeare.

I was about to leave behind Alice, my older sister and the only person in the world who loved me more than life itself. Alice had taken care of me for the past five years and would have given up anything just to make sure that her little sister was happy and was safe. Nothing else in the world mattered to Alice than taking care of me—not even designing clothes could come close. Alice had sacrificed many things that would make her happy just to ensure that we always had a place to live, food on the table, and clothes on our backs. She had worked two jobs, with the exception of recently being fired from one of them, for as long as I could remember. She was a full-time college student, working hard to graduate soon so that she could get a better job so that we could afford a better life. Now, I was leaving her without saying goodbye. I didn't know what would become of me when I went to Shakespeare. Othello had said that the road to the Relics would be a dangerous one. I never thought about it before my decision had been made, but I could die while on my quest. Then, what? What would happen if I died in Shakespeare? Would Alice ever have knowledge of what became of me or would she go on living her life, constantly battling between the two rational thoughts that I had either run away like others who have been dear to us or that I had been abducted by some crazy lunatic who murdered me for pleasure and dumped my body some place where it could never be recovered. It pained me deeply to leave her without a proper farewell in case I never saw her again.

I was about to leave behind Melody, my best friend and second sister who lost her popularity at school and all of the perks that went along with it just to be friends with me because that was what she had truly wanted all along. We had only been friends for a year but it was enough time for us to grow so close, for me to become fond of Melody. Alice was fond of her too, as they bonded over designing and making clothes, and Melody had become a second sister to me. She would stand by Alice's side as they searched for me. I prayed that their search would not be in vain and that I would return before they could miss me too much. If I didn't come back, I knew in my heart that Melody would keep Alice from going insane and losing yet another person who was so close to her. The two of them would be strong enough to face the pain together.

And last, but certainly not least, I was about to leave behind the relationship that I had with Will. We had fell in love here and our relationship—not love, mind you—ended here as well. Perhaps Shakespeare would bring a fresh start. He was there and I would be there soon and there was a chance that we would meet each other again. It would be like meeting for the first time. This time, we will be in his home instead of mine.

Everyone gathered around Othello, except for Antonio, who stood back away from us. I followed everyone's lead, wondering how we were going to travel to Shakespeare. Would we be flying using fairy dust? I wouldn't mind that, wouldn't mind that at all.

I looked back at Antonio. He just stood there, watching us. What was he doing?

"Antonio? Are you not coming with us?"

He shook his head. "No, I will not be making the journey with you all," he informed me.

"Why not?"

He smiled. I was glad that I got to know the real Antonio, who was much different than I had anticipated. First impressions can do a lot for you but he was not the mean, old, eccentric man that he thought he was at first.

"In case, you hadn't noticed, Anne," he said jokingly. "I have a store to run." He chuckled. "At any rate, someone has to stay behind and guard the prophecies to keep other people from reading from the one that bounds him or her to the Seven Relics." He winked at me and I couldn't help but to smile. "And someone also has to keep an eye on your sister for you."

"Oh, thank you, Antonio!" I squealed and my instincts drove me across the room and into his arms, hugging him tightly like a daughter would her father. Embarrassed, Antonio hugged me back. "Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome, Anne," he blushed because of my sudden burst of emotions.

I pulled away from him and even though I was crying again, I was also smiling.

"It was nice meeting you, Anne Hathaway," Antonio said and I didn't care that he had called me by my first and last name.

"You too, Antonio," I said.

"You take care of yourself, you hear," Antonio gave me some last minute instructions before we departed. "Listen to everything Othello has to teach you. He is a real warrior and he knows a thing a two about magic too." He winked again.

I beamed brighter. "Okay," I promised him.

"And when you get back, I would be honored to have you work for me," Antonio added.

"Really?"

"Really, really."

I hugged him again. "Thank you. Alice will be thrilled!"

"No, thank you," Antonio said. We pulled apart again. "Now, go and bring me my ring back."

I nodded. "Sure thing."

"Goodbye Anne."

"Goodbye Antonio."

I rejoined the others.

Othello looked at me. "You ready?"

"Yes," I said bravely.

Rosalind, Puck, Ariel, and I formed a circle around Othello then. At first, I didn't know what was going on until Puck shoved me backwards and to the left. I glared at him and he grinned back.

I finally noticed the necklace around Othello's neck then because he was holding the purple crystal in his hand. Ariel twitched a bit and I could see a blue gem in her hair bow. Both were beautiful like the finest of amethyst and sapphire I had ever seen before in my entire life.

Othello held the gem tightly in his hands. Before anything could happen, I was curious. "How are we going to travel to Shakespeare?"

Othello regarded me and held up the purple crystal even higher for me to view better. "This crystal is a part of an amulet that was given to me by Prospero when I first joined the King's Men in what feels like eons ago. The crystal has several magical abilities and one of them is that it can be used to open up one of the many gateways that lead to Shakespeare from the human world."

I pointed at the necklace. "We're going to use that to travel?"

Othello nodded. "That's correct."

"How does this work exactly?" I wondered, my fifty bajillion questions starting to spill out of me.

"You'll see," was all that Othello said. "I will explain it as we go along."

I fell silent and waited, wondering what was going to happen next, fear and anxiety gripping me.

Puck was grinning at me and I noticed him out of the corner of my eyes. I glanced over at him and he said, "Here comes the best part."

Othello continued to hold the gem before closing his eyes. He started mumbling something under his breath, an incantation I imagined, which grew louder and louder each time he recited it.

This is what he said:

With the powers that are vested in me

I call forth a magic beyond measure

Though beautiful this amulet may be

It is not one to be viewed with pleasure

This amulet is unique with a gift

That brings a way to aid us in travel

Here is when space and time creates a rift

That allows a secret to unravel

A new secret older than time itself

That creates the space to connect the worlds

It is greater than life, greater than wealth

And more valuable than diamonds or pearls

With this incantation, I seal our fates

Yet my words will now open up those gates

It was a sonnet; the incantation was, and it was beautiful like all sonnets were to me. I wondered if Shakespeare had written that one too and it just wasn't included in his collection poems that I have read because it was lacking in iambic pentameter. I was grateful for that.

When Othello first started to recite the sonnet, nothing happened. But then, as his volume grew louder and louder as though he was building up a crescendo for the grand finale of a musical piece, something started to happen.

The world around me, Antonio's parlor room, started to dissolve away, becoming semi-solid entities. Antonio was included in this, along with the furniture and all four walls of the chamber. Everything faded away in a swirl of color except for me and my companions who were escorting me to Shakespeare. They remained solid like me, leaving Antonio's apartment behind for a connecting void where time and space didn't matter, as someone would explain to me later.

Othello continued to recite the spell over and over again and the surroundings continue to fall away into non-existence. This was a very bizarre sight. I had never seen anything quite like it. One moment, we were standing in Antonio's parlor room and the next we were in a place with silver and gold all around us. Silver light, golden light. Even the ground we were standing on was silver and gold.

Silver and gold were everywhere. This place was devoid of everything except for those two colors and the five of us. I looked around, scared and fascinated at the same time. Where had Othello taken us? This was definitely not anywhere in Shakespeare.

"Where are we?" I questioned Othello.

"We are in a world between worlds," Othello replied. "In one of the many gates that connect Shakespeare and Earth."

I continued to peer about. "But I don't see any gates."

Othello pointed.

I followed where his pointing finger lead me. A golden and silver gate was forming in the middle of the nothingness. It looked like one of those iron wrought gates and the weird thing about it was that I could see the gate clearly against the backdrop that was the same exact color.

We hurried towards the gate. I had to jog to keep up with the King's Men, who were striding very fast. Puck was fluttering of course, his wings beating quicker than the blink of an eye.

We reached the gate. Before he pulled it open, Othello's eyes found mine to ensure that I was paying full attention to him. It was hard to keep my eyes on him when I wanted to stare away at the marvel around us. I had never seen this type of a place before. It almost felt wrong to be here.

"When we go through the gate, it will feel as though you are free falling, Anne," Othello told me and I nodded in comprehension, knowing what it felt like to free-fall because of my recent flying experience. "We are going to hold hands and stick together. This is your first time traveling this way and it can be tricky to reach your destination. If you lose altitude too quickly then you can end up in the wrong place. One day, I will teach you the proper way of doing it but for now, it is best that we hold hands to keep you with us."

"Okay," I acknowledged that I understood perfectly.

We locked hands. One of Othello's hands found one of mine. His hand was rugged and calloused. I gripped it tightly despite my initial revulsion at how course his hand was. My other hand gripped one of Rosalind's. Rosalind grabbed Puck's hand with her other one and Puck held onto to Ariel.

Othello pushed the gate open without a moment's hesitation and stepped through it. His entire body disappeared, except for the hand that I was holding. I jumped and gasped before Rosalind forced me along gently. I followed Othello, stepping through the gate . . . .

Then, we were free falling, just as Othello had prepared me for. Air rushed over and under me, the wind tugging at my clothes. When everyone was through the gate, it sealed itself shut and disappeared. At the last moment, Ariel grabbed Othello's hand and we were falling, spinning head over heels while moving horizontally as well.

Then, they appeared.

They came out of nowhere and without warning. I had fear of a lot of things at that moment—like I would lose my grip on Othello's and Rosalind's hands and plunge to my death, for example—but I had not feared an attack by unknown entities.

They appeared in a tight formation, circling our tiny cluster. They were garbed in black robes and all of their faces were the same. They were hideously ugly women, each with long black hair that was wild and mangled and pale white, dead-like skin. Their eyes were blacker than night and every one of them wielded giant shears as weapons.

I screamed when I saw them. There were about a dozen in all and they all looked like the woman from—

One of them dove straight towards me so suddenly and so unexpectedly. The rest of the women hovered and stared at me with a look that was far worse than the hunger look that Caliban had given me when I had first met him. Their look was beyond hunger.

"Back you foul hag!" Othello cried, releasing Ariel's hand. In a flash, he had his sword in hand, swinging at the diving woman to drive her backwards and away from me. She was eyeing me and I knew that she wanted to get to me. Othello's sword had stopped her in her tracks. She retreated with haste and then dove a second time with a new plan.

"What's going on?" I cried. "Who is that? What does she want?"

I was surprised that anyone heard me over the sound of the rushing wind. "That's Atropos!" Rosalind warned me. "The Witch of Death! And those are her avatars!" Rosalind answered the question that I was going to answer next.

Atropos was after me. Just like Lachesis, she wanted me for something. Lachesis had wanted to bring me to Atropos so what could Atropos truly want with me?

It couldn't be good, that was for sure. After all, Atropos could take my life without much effort. If she could get her hands on me she probably had some power that could kill me instantly. Once she cut someone's thread of life, that was it for that person, and I wasn't ready for her to cut mine's; I had too much work to do and I needed to see Alice, Will, and Melody again.

Atropos swooped in closer this time—I guessed that was the true Atropos because of her persistence at trying to reach me. "The girl!" she screeched suddenly in a horrible voice. It was low and deep throated and she sounded like a hoarse man. "Give me the girl!"

"Never!" Othello hissed. "She is not ready to be claimed! There is no shadow in her eyes!"

"I am not here to claim her!" Atropos yelled. "I am here to take her to a very dear friend of mine. Now, hand her over or all of you shall perish!"

"Ariel!" Othello cried. "When I breakaway, I want you to grab Anne's hand!"

Ariel nodded and it took me approximately three seconds to comprehend what Othello had just said. He was going to breakaway. What did that—

"No!" I yelled. "No! Don't do that!"

"I have to," Othello said bravely. "She will not take you that easily. You are our top priority, Anne, and we must do whatever it takes to protect you."

"No!" I cried, feeling the tears coming for a literal cry.

"I'll come with!" Rosalind told Othello just as bravely. "You might need help with the avatars."

"No," Othello ordered her. "You are to stay with the group Rosalind and lead them to Prospero. Do not release Anne until you are back at the manor."

Rosalind nodded but her lips were pursed. She was angry that Othello would not allow her to help him fight.

"Don't do this!" I cried, pleading to Othello while fearing the worse for him. "There has to be another way!"

"There isn't!" Othello told me. "I have to do this." He looked at Ariel. "Ariel?"

"Ready, sir!" Ariel cried.

Othello nodded once. With his sword still in hand, he winked at me. How could he wink at me during a time like this? Then, he said, "Besides, I'm not ready to die yet!"

Othello released me hand and tumbled backwards towards Atropos and her horde of look-alikes. Atropos screeched and hissed as Othello twisted through the air towards her. She raised her shears and it didn't look too good for Othello. Then, at the last possible second, he twisted again and was right side up, flying towards Atropos with his sword raised. Othello gave a war cry and swung his sword. Atropos blocked it with her shears and Othello sailed past her, twisting around to come back at her again. The doppelgangers advanced on him after a signal from Atropos and the last thing I saw of Othello was that he was being swallowed by a mass of blackness . . . .

"Anne! Grab my hand!"

I realized that Ariel was calling for me and had been calling for me for a while, but I had been too wrapped up in watching the fate of Othello. I had met him only too recently and he had been an imposing presence. I had felt strangely safe with him around but now he was gone. His life was ending much differently than what I had read in the prophecy about him.

I looked at Ariel. As we continued to free-fall for what seemed like forever, I could see that she had her free hand outstretched towards me, trying to reach my free hand that Othello had abandoned.

"Anne! Grab my hand!"

I snapped out of whatever trance I was in and reached outwards to grab Ariel's hand. The first time, I missed her hand completely and the second time I wasn't close enough. The third time, I strained and stretched, giving it all that I could. Slowly, I felt myself losing my grip on Rosalind's hand. My hand was sweaty and slipping . . . .

I reached for Ariel's hand one final time and at the same time, I felt my other hand slide right out of Rosalind's hand.

I gasped and Rosalind cursed. For a moment, I was suspended in mid-air alone, Rosalind, Puck, and Ariel traveling away from me while falling away at the same time. I didn't even have a chance to look down before I took the plunge.

I was going to die.