Reminder: the previous chapter took place exclusively in the Monday Universe.

This one is back in the Saturday dimension.
The next one...will probably switch between the two.

I don't own Drew, their parents, Van Rook, or the Secret Saturdays.
I own Aeron, the people in the bar...and whoever else.
Unless it's someone I merely forgot to mention. Then JS probably owns him, her, or it.

I might go into detail if I ever write about Drew's childhood, but for the moment, I don't even want to try to figure out what's going on with Drew Monday, except if and when it ties into what's going on with Drew Saturday.

Fernanda:
(in a bad imitation of "Chip" Douglas from "The Cable Guy") Am I really your friend?
(normal voice) Seriously, though, thanks. Always nice to hear...read...you know what I mean!
(No, I'm not a smart-alek! Just ask me!)

Timing: A day, maybe a week, a short time, anyway, following the previous chapter.

The Hunted

Drew walked away from another Romani caravan. Nobody had seen Doyle. They'd given her food, shelter, money, and the promise to keep an eye out for the child, but not one had any new information.

Several of the chovihano had detected the spell on the medallion, but by the time they tracked down the signal, it had moved again.

"Stupid spell," she muttered. "I could've walked by him every five minutes and not know it." She knew why that spell had been cast, but had no way to know how it affected her search.

She fingered the pendant the Mulo Clan's chovihano had given her. It was supposed to let her see through the medallion's spell, but without the actual medallion, the chovihano had no way to key it to the other spell. He could only guarantee that it would help boost her own sensitivity, but he had not known if it would be enough. She couldn't even be sure if Doyle was alive, except if he wore the medallion.

"What I wouldn't give for one of dad's compass spells," she said with a sigh. But those spells had been his own invention—along with almost every spell he'd used—and nobody else knew how to recreate them. Even if they had, no chovihano could track down Doyle's spirit without first having keyed him into one of their own spells.

The last clan had been the worst. It was her grandfather's clan, and none of them had known that anything had happened! She'd left as soon as they told her that; she hadn't even bothered to speak to her grandfather.

Soon, she told herself. I'll go back soon, and tell him about mom and dad. I don't remember why we left, and I don't care; it's been too long, whatever the reason, and he deserves to know what happened. But I can't go back, not until I've found Doyle.

She came in sight of a town, and paused. She'd asked at the farms and the Clans she'd come across, but the only town she'd checked was near the train wreck. Neither Fae nor the Mulo Clan had gone into much detail, but they'd given her the impression that Doyle had had a very bad time with the villages. She doubted he would have gone into a town, but....

Doyle might not have gone into a town, but he was probably hurt from the train wreck; someone could have found him and taken him to one.

She didn't know what problems Doyle had faced in those other villages, but the people she'd run into after the Mulo Clan didn't seem to care that she was Romani. They were either nice to her or they weren't; that she was Romani did not seem to matter.

She frowned. Town or not? There were more people, maybe too many for her to ask. But suppose someone had seen him, and she just avoided the place?

She frowned, but finally made up her mind.

Once inside, she looked around; there didn't seem to be many people on the streets this late in the day. Where should she start?

There, she decided. Several people went in and out of a building up ahead. Even if they haven't seen him, maybe they can tell me where I need to go.

—

Van Rook woke from a fitful sleep. The woman in his dreams—she was familiar, somehow, but he could not remember why.

"Can't sleep?" Aeron asked. "Ain't your turn to watch for another couple hours yet; did you maybe want something to help?" He held out a canteen.

Van Rook muttered something, but pushed the canteen away. Aeron's eyebrows shot up, but Van Rook merely shook his head. "I—had a strange dream," he said. "I am trying to figure it out."

"Oh? What kind of dream, oh wonderful boss of mine?"

Van Rook snorted. "If you are trying to flatter me into letting you drink this," he said, snatching away the canteen, "you have lost your mind." Aeron snickered. "There was...a woman—"

"Ooh, a woman...." Aeron chuckled. "So you've got yourself a lady on the side, huh? Is she—" Van Rook swung at him, and Aeron ducked. "Getting slow," Aeron said with a smirk.

The old mercenary growled. "Not that kind of dream, you insolent pup!" he snarled. Aeron merely snickered again. "She told me—she told me she knew someone who could help me find Vadoma...but that she needed my help, first."

"Oh, is that all?" Aeron muttered. "It's just wishful thinking, you know that, right?"

"Maybe," Van Rook replied, "but it's as much a lead as any I've had."

"But it's just a dream," Aeron protested. "What makes you think this woman even exists, huh?"

"She does," Van Rook replied. "I have met her before. I'm not certain when or where, but I do know her."

Aeron shook his head, but did not argue when Van Rook strapped on his jet pack and took off.

They flew over several towns without stopping; Aeron tried over each town to speak to Van Rook, but received no response. When they landed and took off their masks, Aeron tried again, then stepped back in surprise. The man looked like he was sleepwalking!

"That'd explain the flight," Aeron muttered. Van Rook wandered off, still in that apparent daze. Aeron rushed to keep up with him.

Van Rook stopped in front of one building, told Aeron to stay put, then walked inside.

Aeron grimaced when he saw what building it was. "Perfect!" he said. "He refuses his whiskey, just to go into a strange bar? Oh, the boss will just love hearing about this!"

—

Van Rook snapped back to his senses and looked around. The woman in his dreams had told him to come here, but she hadn't told him what to expect when he arrived.

He scanned the crowd, and his gaze came to rest on the white-haired woman speaking to the bartender.

White hair? The bartender shook his head, and the woman turned away. Van Rook caught just a glimpse of her face.

"Found her," he said into his radio. He tried to weave his way through the crowd—

"Yeah, you don't plan on doing anything stupid, do you boss?" Aeron replied. "I mean, what did you plan on saying to her?"

That stopped Van Rook short. "I.... My dream...."

"You want to tell her you dreamed about her?" Aeron laughed. "Yeah, I know what that will sound like. 'You tired, baby? Cause you been walking in my head all day.' What, are you my age, trying out your first lame pick-up line?"

"I suppose you could do better," Van Rook growled.

"Sure, if I was in there."

"She spoke to me, Aeron. I'll—I'll think of something." Besides, the dream hadn't actually said that she would help; rather, the dream-woman had said that helping her could give him a key to learning Vadoma's fate. Whatever that was supposed to mean.

And the dream had never specified what kind of help he was supposed to give her in exchange for that "key."

As Van Rook continued to observe the woman, he realized that she was not the one from his dream. This woman was younger, perhaps Aeron's age—not a woman, but a girl! But she looked like enough to the one in his dream as to be that one's sister. Or maybe daughter, if the dream-woman had just a few more years on her.

It took a force of will to just settle back and watch her, and wait for the right time to approach.

A group of young men approached the woman—girl! One of them leaned down to speak to her. The smile on her face was odd; Van Rook thought she looked relieved, but wary at the same time.

One of the other men handed her a drink. She sipped at it, and her eyes flew wide. She stared at the young men, suspicious, watching them drink. After a moment, she relaxed a fraction and began sipping at the mug again.

Van Rook stiffened. He thought he'd seen one of the men—he wasn't sure what he'd seen.

He looked for an opening in the crowd and tried to push his way through.

"Hold it," Aeron said. "What now?"

"I think one of them put something in that drink," Van Rook replied. He did not like their expressions; they reminded him of those thugs, when they'd spoken of what they had done to Vadoma. The only thing missing was the fear.

But the girl did not seem to notice.

"And you're going to do what? Tell her? Confront them? Turn on your camera, will you?" Van Rook switched on the lens so that Aeron could see the same thing. "Thought so. Look, this may not be any gentleman's club, but it's a step above the sort of bar where someone like you might be seen. Two steps, maybe three, when you remember that these little towns don't have any clubs."

"And you know so much about who would visit a bar."

"You're missing the point," Aeron said with a sigh. "You're lucky nobody's noticed you yet. If you try to confront them, you'll be the troublemaker, all right?"

Van Rook growled, but relented, and continued to watch. What is wrong with me? I know all of this. I shouldn't need Aeron to remind me of what is only common sense.

The young men watched the girl as she continued to drink from the mug.

—

Drew put down the mug. Her head felt weird. She had thought maybe it was whatever they'd given her, but they were drinking the same thing, and none of them seemed affected.

I've been wandering too long, she finally decided. I haven't gotten a proper rest, and I've only eaten while I'm walking. It's just catching up to me, is all. She put her head in her hands and stifled a groan at the feeling in her head. Tough. I'll settle down when I've found my brother, not until.

One of the young men smirked at his partners before coming to her side of the table. "Hey, you okay, sweetie?"

"I don't—I don't know," Drew replied. "I feel funny."

"You've probably been up too long," he said. "You need to be in bed. Of course, you haven't got anywhere to go—" He seemed to think for a moment. "Why don't you come with me and my buddies? We can take you somewhere to sleep for a long time, and we can help you look for your brother when you feel all better, okay?"

Drew peered at the man. She thought she could hear her mother, screaming in her head to stay away from these people, but she couldn't think straight. And they had offered to help her look—

"Sure," she mumbled. She let them help her to her feet, then clutched at the table as a wave of dizziness went over her.

They led her outside and helped her into the back of their vehicle. She felt so horrible, she didn't even care that they'd just put her inside of a horse wagon.

Not one of the group was aware of the two masked men that followed them.