Somewhere between the edge of her lawn and the clearing, it was hard to place just when, the girl had turned to a pixie, and the pixie was in pain. What had started as a feeling of something-not-quite-right had evolved the closer she came to her bond. Her chest felt tight, and her skin began to burn. Far from a pleasant sensation, all she wanted was for it to stop. Unfortunately, she didn?t have the slightest idea how to make it so. As per usual, her hope, her salvation, was Silvanous.

A distressed ball of light and wings, she threw herself into the tree ringed clearing; searching for a sign of him. Drawing in great gasping breaths of balmy night air, Amthy darted here and there around the clearing, but not a glimpse of hide or hair was gifted onto her luminous eyes. Not of Silvanous, or Babylonica, or Tristis, or Beithe. They were all conspicuously absent. At least that was her first impression. As she drew closer to her oak, she found that she was mistaken about two things: Silvanous was there, and she wasn?t the only one in pain.

?Silvanous,? she cried out, his name torn from her as a shared bout of discomfort flowed between them. Doubling over, her arms circled about her middle as if the gesture would still the ache. ?What?s happening to us??

Silvanous sagged boneless against his trunk, the wealth of his cloud-like brown hair obscuring his finely wrought elven features. He looked no better than she felt, which was understandable given their rapport. What affected one, likewise affected the other, but which of them was the originator?

?Wind Sister,? he whispered his voice reedy and low. He tried to rise, but his figure had already begun to disappear; sinking half into their tree.

?Don?t go!? Tears pricked her eyes, though she knew he had no choice. Hadn?t he been waiting for her? Had she taken too long? ?Please!? She screamed, ?I don?t know what to do!? And she didn?t! Silvanous was her source of wisdom and guidance, if he was unavailable to her, what was she supposed to do?

?You have to go,? he gasped as pain lanced through his quickly aging figure.

?Where?? Amthy?s voice was shrill as she gnashed her teeth and pulled futilely at the knotted hanks of her hair. The Pixie didn?t get an answer, at least not one she could actually use as Silvanous angled a finger down to point at the ground before disappearing completely into the their Oak.

She was screaming, even if the sound of her terror wasn?t given voice. Earth pressed against her body, filled her mouth, and scraped her burning flesh. The Goblin hadn?t made the trip Underhill easy, but then why should it? Wasn?t it her own fault for trusting a dark creature of the unseelie?

Her lungs burned for want of a breath, but when she tried to breathe (between screams) there was only grit and grime to sate her need. Eventually, she could do nothing but cry in her mind against the abuse of she had been given as she was whisked cruelly from the land of Man to that which lay beneath.

That was until they broke through the crust into the realm of Faerie. The Goblin dropped her unceremoniously into a puddle of murky water and drooping swamp grass. ?Did as I said,? the creature announced with a sinister twist of his gaping maw. While he might be small and mildly disturbing to look upon in the land above, he was a different animal all together down beneath it.

One large hand fell upon her wings, twisting around the thin, stained glass-like membranes gifting the Pix with a whole new, and wholely unique, sensation. ?What?re you doing?!? Aghast, she fought against the touch, pushing herself away from him.

?Nothing?s free, pixie,? he chortled as he wrenched his tightening fist. There was no mistaking the fiendish delight he took as the wing shred beneath his touch, or in the pain he wrought upon the seelie changeling. The inky haired fae thrashed and screamed, but to no avail as he broke first one wing and then the other from her back leaving behind bloody nubs and tattered wisps of brilliantly colored membrane. He left her there, huddled in the mud and filth, sobbing at the violation; Stranded in a stretch of Faerie unknown to her, but that wasn?t his problem. It was hers.

There was no pause to the pain that shook her body, inside or out. Her stomach twisted, what meager remains there was in side spilled upon the swampy ground, mingling with the dying grass and stagnant water. Every fiber of her being rebelled against the truth of the matter?that she?d lost her wings so cruelly. It was more than she could bear. It couldn?t be true. At least that?s the last thing she told herself before she fell into a swoon, and found somber comfort in oblivion.

The Pix discovered that straight ahead proved to be sort of curvy, and nothing at all like straight. A reality that would make it difficult to give directions or to retrace her steps, if she was presented with the opportunity to do either task. The tall grass hid uneven terrain, loose dirt, and sharp stones. How lucky she was then that her feet seemed adept at finding all that land?s hidden treasures. She would have hated to miss out on the stumbling, toe stubbing, scratches?an all around good time for any ailing adventurer.

It was only after she slid into a waist deep finger of muck did she realize she was following the ?shore.? So much for not going with the bog option, but then it had been accidental. Perhaps it was destiny? Either way, she needed to rest her aching feet. Pulling herself from the thick, clinging peat she settled down on a spongy space of grass covered soil. Carefully, she examined one battered foot and then the other. Dirt filled the cuts on her feet, as well as the rest of her legs.

How long had she been walking? Time worked differently Underhill, from what she recalled. A night spent dancing could translate to ten years in the mortal realm, or several days paying court could be an hour. It felt like forever, and that was all that mattered at the moment. Gingerly, she twisted and tipped her head trying to get a good look at her back, which was a very hard thing to do. Arching her back and tucking her arm just so, she tried to investigate the dull, throbbing ache of her ruined wings. The position made her arm cramp, and her head spin.

She wanted to clean it, but the only water available was icky beyond compare. A grimace tugged at the corners of chapped Cupid?s bow shaped lips as she debated her options. She didn?t really have any that she was aware of. She didn?t even realize she was crying until the tears started to drop from her cheeks to make clean-ish spots on her legs. There was no helping it. Once started the tears began to flow in earnest.

How much worse could her day possibly get?

A very bedraggled, Amthy fought her way through the last of the tall grasses and out into the small crescent clearing that surrounded the source of the light she had fixated upon. It wasn?t a naughty fae, which was a relief, but instead it was a small cottage like structure. It was hard to tell the details in the dark. That wasn?t something that kept her from feeling relieved. She could finally stop walking! At least for now and that was what mattered most to Amthy.

Staggering the last few steps to the threshold, she supported herself against the frame. Chin tipped down toward her chest as she sagged. The Pixie was practically asleep on her feet! Lifting a balled hand, she rasped her knuckles against the wet wooden door. She was comforted by the idea that some one was home, or why else have the light? Unless?she refused to let herself think of all the dark, disturbing reasons someone might have a light in their window, and instead focus on the good. That?s what she was good at, wasn?t it? Turning something bad into just the opposite?

Several knocks later, the door creaked open, showing the back lit silhouette of a hunched over figure. Immediately, Amthy stepped away from the door, smoothing her hands over the front of her ragged skirt. ?I?m sorry to trouble you,? she said in a hurry, ?but do you know where I might find the Faerie Doctor?? Nervously, she swiped a hand across her brow to mop some of the water from the sheet of rainwater pouring off the edge of the roof from her face.

In answer to her question, the figure just let the door swing open wide. With her back presented to the Pixie, the wrinkled woman retreated back into the confines of the cottage, and the warmth of the hearth. Taking it as an invitation to proceed, Amthy stepped in after her, and closed the door behind her.

The inside of the cottage was sparse, but then, she hadn?t known what to expect. A single table and two chairs sat on a packed dirt floor, and a rocking chair before the stone ringed hearth. A counter ran half the length of the far wall with a removable basin set in the middle, and suspended from the ceiling was a simple rack from which hung a variety of dried plants. One corner was curtained, presumably it served as the woman?s bed room, otherwise the room was open. It was a humble home. The only other ?furnishing? she noticed was a rack laden with earthenware and glass.

Though she did notice that, much to her horror, the streaming water from her dress, hair, and body in general had begun to puddle on the floor. ?Sweet Creation,? she squawked, luminous eyes wide and frantic, ?I?m sorry, I hadn?t meant to?!? She was afraid to move. Afraid that she would make the puddle grow.

Still, the woman hadn?t said two words to her. Though she did scuttle to the fire, and to the kettle there, and ladle out a helping of what appeared to be soup into a misshapen bowl.

Trembling, Amthy wrapped her arms around herself. Adopting a rocking sway, she fought the urge to cry again as the elderly fae brought her the bowl. She stopped at the edge of the puddle, holding it out to the pixie with an indifferent expression. Grateful, Amthy took the bowl, not even caring that there was no spoon, and she didn?t know what it was made of. Within the bowl, white and orange blobs bobbed on a creamy surface?mushroom soup, that was familiar enough to her. Her chin began to tremble, ?why are you being so nice to me?? She didn?t expect a response, nor did she get one, but she did have food to fill her aching belly, and a refuge from the relentless down pour outside.

The sun had yet to shine when she started, and now, well past noon, Amthy was still struggling with filling the basket. A woeful glance was given to her burden. It wasn?t even halfway full! Toadstools and mushrooms were a Fae favorite; perhaps the area had been over farmed? So much for hardly knowing she was gone! At this rate, the woman wouldn?t even remember her when she returned. If she ever returned.

When she had first started, it had been so dark that she had kept near to the cottage. Once the sky had brightened, Amthy had widened her range to include many of the woody shrubs and trees that dotted the bog. If the scenery wasn?t so dark and foreboding?and all the plants weren?t dead or dying?it might have been a nice place to vacation. As it was, she was jumping at every shadow and rustle in the underbrush. One could never tell when an attorcroppe or ballybog might show up and make things difficult.

She was tired and hungry, and in need of a break. She had spent all day, thus far, searching for mushrooms. The old woman wouldn?t begrudge her a short rest, or at least she shouldn?t. Amthy tried not to think of the hunger that gnawed at her belly or the temptation the basket half full of fungi presented. She wasn?t ever going to finish if she started to eat everything that she found!

It was in the midst of her mental chiding that she heard a peculiar sound. Frozen to her spot, her heart began to beat a wild tattoo in her chest. Fantastical, now I really am going to die, she thought to herself as fear replaced hunger as the dominate sensation in her belly. It was hard to hear over her pulse, but the sound seemed to be getting fainter not louder, which as far as she was concerned was a good thing. She wasn?t much when it came to conflict. Unlike just about everyone else she knew. Sometimes, she wished she wasn?t so dependent, but right at that moment she wished someone was there to take care of her and make sure she would be all right.

No one would be coming. No matter how much she wished.

The tip of her tongue flicked out to wet her chapped lips. What was she supposed to do? Stand there and wait? That just wasn?t an option. Resigned to her fate, Amthy drew herself up and rolled back her shoulders. She might be a coward but that didn?t mean she had to act like one. One foot forward, and then the other, and soon she was walking again. Huzzah! She could do it, she just had to take it a little at a time; worry about the mushy lump of boggy ground she was on before worrying about the next one.

And then she heard it again. This time the sound was clearer. It sounded suspiciously like a whimper. What faeries did she know used that kind of tactic? None came to mind readily, which was good enough for her. Mayhap another poor creature had been set upon by some wretched Unseelie? Concern colored her fear as each step she took brought her closer to the pitiful mewling. By the time she reached the hollowed log, she was beside herself with worry.

?Hello?? Amthy said softly as she tiptoed to the mouth of the fallen, rotted out trunk. ?Is anyone there??

The Pixie wasn?t sure about what she would find, but she hadn?t expected what she did. Tongue curled over her lip, she crawled in the muck; half into the log to see what was caught inside. ?Oh my!? She gasped as her bright green eyes met with a set of glowing amber. The whimpers turned to yipping growls, but it wasn?t enough to put Amthy off. ?Shush,? she crooned, ?it?s all right. I?m going to help you,? she said in that voice reserved for infants and animals. That didn?t stop the beast from nipping at her fingers as she worked its tail free from a snare. ?Hey!? Amthy yelped as she thrust her poorly abused fingers into her mouth. The metallic taste of blood, and icky taste of grime, coated her tongue as she suckled at her newest wound.

The beastie didn?t stick around to say sorry, or thank you. Once free, it bound out of the back of the log and back into the bog. ?Umph!? Amthy huffed as she knocked her head against the decaying wood. ?You?re welcome!? She called out with a sniff as she pulled her fingers from her mouth. Clumsily, she freed herself from her would be prison, but not without sacrificing a clump of her filthy hair.

Twisting around, Amthy slowly lowered herself into the pit. Bare feet kicked and toes wriggled as she tried to find the posts before she fell upon them. She counted eight of them total, but her math wasn?t the most reliable in the realm. Carefully, she maneuvered her feet to slide between the sets of sharpened points so that she edged down between the posts and not onto of them. Disfigured she might be, but she still liked her shell well enough to want to keep it. Besides, she was pretty sure it would hurt to be impaled.

As she feared, the foxling was injured. It didn?t move except to breath as she reached around in the tight space of the pit to pick him up. Gingerly, she dragged him closer to her by his scruff. She was afraid to touch any of his limbs. She?d found out the hard way that it hurt when he bit, and he?d was usually snap happy.

?It?s all right,? she crooned soothingly to the beastie as she gathered it into her arms. Unfortunately, she needed both hands to get back out again. Clicking her teeth together, night-dark brows furrowed as she tried to put together a plan. There was no other way she could think to bring the critter up; she had to sacrifice part of her dress. The tattered, patched garment hardly had enough fabric to cover her. Given to flights of fancy, Amthy had begun to imagine that she looked just like Snow White after the Wicked Step-Mother had turned her into a servant. Snow White wouldn?t leave the foxling, and neither would she.

With her mind made up, Amthy replaced the fox to the pit floor and shimmied out of her petticoat. Quickly, she tore the flimsy fabric in her mangled hands and fashioned a simple sling. The foxling had yet to move in all that time, and it had Amthy worried. Was it going to die? If only she?d found the pit sooner! It reassured her to see its chest rise and fall; it wasn?t dead yet.

The sling was slung around her neck, and the fox nested in the folds against her bosom. Mindful of her burden, Amthy dug her fingers into the side of the pit. Testing her hand holds, she started to pull herself up, and press her feet against the textured wall. After a few false starts, she managed to scale up the side. Getting out without squishing her bundle proved being more difficult than getting down had been. Grabbing a clump of nettles, she used them for leverage as she clumsily removed the sling and brought one knee up beneath her burden.

Fae she might be, Amthy had never been what one would call athletic. Taking shallow breaths, she tried to keep her hold firm despite the tremble in her arms. She was exhausted by the time she slid the bundle of foxling over the pit lip and onto solid ground. In comparison, it was much easier to get the rest of her out of the hole.

Amthy collapsed beside the bundle, her body wet with perspiration. She hated to sweat. It was a small price to pay to get her new friend free of the pit. Fatigue made her fingers tremble as she picked the knots of the sling open. Folding back the fabric, she looked at the beastie inside. ?See, it wasn?t so bad, now was it?? She said to the foxling as she carefully investigated his little body. As far as she could tell, nothing was broken. She did find a cut on the back of his leg that she bound with a section of petticoat. ?I think you?ll be just fine.?

The foxling didn?t bound away. It stayed curled up on her ruined petticoat. Since he seemed inclined to stay, Amthy was inclined to take a short break from her duties. Lying on her side, she pet the animal with her good hand. ?We?ve had such a day, you and I,? she told the fox, ?we should just rest here a bit and regain our strength.? The fox didn?t answer her, but she was sure that he agreed.

It wasn?t like she?d planned on having a nap. It just happened. One moment her eyes were open, and then they weren?t. When she woke, the fox was gone and the day was nearly over, and there was still the field of nettles to clear.

Enid was waiting for her, but not with the customary bowl of hot toadstool soup. The old woman was bent over her work table grinding some of the nettles Amthy had gathered a few weeks before, and dried. While Amthy had seen the woman work before, she?d never seen her work so late into the evening.

A wide assortment of plants, and pieces of animals, were splayed out in a jumble on the aged table top. At the end of the table there was a small stack of sachets like the ones Enid used to calm Amthy?s fits, as well as some squares of traveling bread and a skin of water.

?Are you going somewhere, Grandmother?? Amthy asked her airy voice laced with curiosity. Approaching the end of the table, she fingered one of the packets of powder idly.

?You are,? Enid said in response as she swept up a handful of the powdered nettles and dumped them into a small tub of fat.

?How did you know?? Surprise showed on Amthy?s face and in her voice.

?Because it?s time you did.?

?Oh,? Amthy replied dully.

?Give me your right hand,? Enid directed as she reached out her own hand in a hurrying gesture. Once Amthy did, she pierced the keloid covered appendage and squeezed out three droplets of blood onto the top of the herb and fat mixture.

The Pixie yelped in distress but fought the urge to yank her hand back, ?Why did you do that?!?

?It?s what you came ?ere for isn?t it?? Enid huffed as she swirled the blood into the salve with a dried boggart?s leg. ?What you have between your ears? Nothing but air I imagine.?

?Yes, Ma?am, I mean no, Ma?am.?

Enid snorted in reply as she fit the lid over the tub. ?Rub this on your skin every night, and on the third night wash in the first water you find.? The elderly woman passed over the salve. ?You?ll be traveling west, and under no circumstances should you look east. Do you understand??

It was awkward holding the tub in her hands. She couldn?t imagine actually using her hands to do very much anymore, lest of all rubbing salve into her rash. ?Yes, Ma?am,? she answered obediently.

?You worked well,? Enid began as she started to stack her tools together to be washed, ?you earned your reward.?

?Thank you, Enid,? Amthy smiled the expression distorting the welts on her face. ?I will always appreciate your kindness.? She was finally going to be on her way. Amthy tucked the salve in against her chest as a thrill of excitement coursed through her veins. Maybe, she?d even get a chance to go home.

She dreamt of feathers and sea air, neither of which, to her waking dismay, was real. The rock that was digging into her thigh, on the other hand, was. Muffling a groan, Amthy pushed herself up and away from the tree ever mindful to keep her eyes focused a head of her, or to the sides, but never back. Gathering up her scattered belongings, she replaced them to her hip and shoulder before beginning on her way.

Sunlight filtered through the trees and dappled across the dark, green smelling debris that coated the wood floor. The wood wasn?t as silent, or foreboding, as the bog. Birds chirped to one another and bugs (ick!) buzzed all around her. Despite the dark nature of the area, it actually was pretty pleasant to wander through. All one had to do was make the place a little lighter, and make most of the plants living, and it would be just like home.

It was funny, in some ways, how the mortal realm had replaced faerie as home in her heart. But it was home, and after all the months with Enid, she was feeling home sick. She couldn?t help but wonder how things were going for Cayt and ?Rora, with the Blades, and her girls. And of course there were the boys, though calling them men was definitely more appropriate. A smile tipped her mouth and a giggle bubbled up at the thought. The giggle flowed into a groaning grunt as a familiar burning pain shot through her awareness.

Panting, she reached for her water skin, sloshing the content around to stir the settled powder inside back into suspension. She was shaking by the time the cap was popped free and the first mouthful of water sloshed into her mouth, though most of it dribbled from the corners of her mouth to wet the front of her dingy slip. Once she got down the first gulp, it was followed by two more.

It wasn?t that the tonic prevented whatever was causing her pain, but prevented it from hurting while her malady wreaked its havoc on her body. It made it tolerable to live with the throbbing sensitivity, and gut wrenching agony as it twisted her inside out. She knew without checking that the ?rash? had grown. Her body had become one big piece of squishy, gray-red sponge.

Travel was slower going after that. It had become hard to breath, and she was in need of frequent stops to rest. Her travel rations went largely untouched. She wasn?t hungry, or thirsty. For all appearances, every need of her body had slowly come to a stop over the course of her stay at the cottage. It was difficult to keep herself going until dark. The only thing she wanted to do was sleep, but there was the salve to apply. Once that was done, she could surrender herself to rest.

Night did not come nearly soon enough as far as Amthy was concerned. She was positively giddy when the sun began to sink below the horizon. Never before had she been so happy for it to be dark; thankful to finally bring a close to her second day on the road. The wood had begun to thin giving the Pix the impression that she was soon going to be free of the ebon barked trees. Sometime around mid-morning was her estimation, not that she had anything reliable to base her assumption off of besides wishful thinking.

Amthy settled herself down at the edge of a small clearing between two of the dark, twisted trees. Much like the night before, she shrugged off her travel gear and arranged it further west than she was. First to come off was the pouch Enid had given her, and next the water skin. Severely deflated, it made her depressed to look at it. Hardly any water at all sloshed inside of the cured leather bag.

There certainly wasn?t enough to keep her aches and pains at bay. Her discomfort had magnified over the course of her walk making frequent sips from the skin necessary. All of the powder than Enid had prepared for her journey had gone into that bag with none left over. Besides, she didn?t have any water to mix the powder into even if she had, had some extra.

She did, however, still have her salve. Woebegone, Amthy carefully wriggled her arms out of her slip, and rolled the garment down to her waist. Though the purpose of the fatty medicine was a mystery to her, she trusted Enid. Anyhow, she had already committed herself to the elderly woman?s directions. It was only natural that she attempt to complete them.

Amthy was halfway through her application when she got the distinct impression that she was being watched. Her skin tingled, but that might have been from her growing fever, and the night had become still. When she had been living beside the bog, the nights were often still. And they were also probably filled with horrible things that scared even the bugs from stirring. That was only a guess, she had never actually seen anything to solidify that belief.

She continued to rub the balm over her ribs and into her painfully sensitive skin. Once the coin sized dollop was absorbed, she drew up her slip and wriggled her arms back through the straps. Amthy drew in a hissing breath through her teeth, wincing as some of the scabs over the thick, tender keloid-like rash cracked and began to bleed. If anything, that remedy helped to keep her consumed skin supple. Unfortunately, she was going to have to postpone her nightly application until she was sure she was just imagining things. Rather than recap the ointment, it was a pain and a half getting the lid back on with barely functional hands; she left it open and fit it between two exposed roots.

Amthy had never been brave. This was a fact many people, including herself, knew. Sure, there had been the occasional person who had tried to teach her to be otherwise, but it was hard to change a person?s natural inclination. Right then, she was making an aggressive attempt to do just that. Wetting her lips, she stood cautiously; listening for any sound she might consider unusual. If she had any hair left, it probably would have been standing on end, she was so afraid.

Of course, she knew she was over reacting.

She hadn?t encountered anything but wildlife since she left the cottage. This, in her way of thinking, was natural. It wasn?t as if the realm was shoulder-to-shoulder filled with faeries. What she really needed was more medicine. Her eyes were beginning to feel like they were boiling, and that her head was liable to split open and spill everything inside, out. The pain was beginning to return, and it was a distraction from any potential evil that could be lurking in the brush.

It was a failing of hers to be so easily distracted. It was a flaw that had its own set of rewards and punishments. At that moment, Fate wasn't feeling particularly generous. It was while she was busy lamenting her own sorry state the potential evil chose to become a very real one.

Amthy was falling.

Night-dark sky gave way to murky crystal. Her heart lurched dramatically as she folded her arms before her face, fully expecting to crash into it, but she continued to fall right through it. Soundless cries tickled her lips realized as nothing more than the breath leaving her, like someone had knocked the wind from her torture twisted body. Presented with such a range of sensory stimulation, she did the only thing a genteel lady could do in such circumstance?she fainted.

The time that followed she could only remember in bits, pieces, and haunting sensations. The feeling of her body as it shook and twisted; convulsing. Liquefied fire flowed beneath her skin, carrying with it the wriggling maggots that ate away at her from the inside out. A jumble of hands that tried to hold her down, to keep her from clawing at her skin; tearing it up only to feel it crumble in her grasp like last autumn?s leaves.

There was no peace for her to find, not even in sleep. Her mind was filled with chimeric impressions perverted by fevered impulse, horrible aberrations of the things that sweet little pixies should dream of. Occasionally, there was singing, and gentle touches meant to soothe her delirious mind and give her a measure of peace in the heat of the maelstrom. Those memories she cherished most as few and far between as they were.

She was falling apart, in the end, there would be nothing left of her at all.

A miniature version of paradise greeted her eyes just past the pale purple curtain. The walk beneath her feet wound in a serpentine fashion around carefully maintained plots of grass and flowers set inside the crystal. How they survived, Amthy wasn?t sure. Something to do with magic, she knew that much. Deep inside, something rejoiced at being close to something green and growing. It sang through her blood and brought with it a fleeting sense of giddiness that bubbled through her like champagne.

Dimly, the thought crossed her mind that she shouldn?t be exploring. Curiosity had always been a driving motivation inside of her, and right then, it took control of her completely. This was a new place, perhaps even a dangerous one, but she wouldn?t know until she acquainted herself with it. At least that is what she told herself as she crept along the pathway away from ?her? room. The further she went from it, the paler the walk became until?to her surprise?it became entirely clear. Despite its apparent transparency, Amthy could not divine what was passed it. It was if the substance stretched down for all eternity beneath her with nothing below it.

While she might not be able to see anything when she looked down, she could hear something coming from ahead of her; laughter. The lyrical sound beckoned to her. Though she knew she should be cautious, her need to understand outweighed her sense of self-preservation. She noticed two other paths, coming from different parts of the grounds, joined to hers, widening the path as it flowed out into a garden area.

Amthy stood there dully looking at the large pool-like communal bath and the women that lounged around it. Luminous emerald eyes flicked from one woman to the next until she counted five in total: two blondes, a redhead, and two brunettes all in varying states of undress. Clutching the robe tighter around her unfamiliar body, she approached them.

?Where am I?? She asked her voice hoarse from lack of use.

The laughing stopped. Two of the girls in the pool, both brunettes, waded toward the edge closest to where Amthy stood. ?Look who it is,? a raven haired girl said with a sly smile as she draped herself across her companion?s back.

?Where am I?? Amthy said again slowly with her new voice to match her new body.

?I do believe she?s dumb,? the other said as she turned to look at the woman against her.

?That certainly appears to be the case,? the first girl answered.

?Where am I?? She tried again as her brows furrowed in growing frustration. It was like a private joke that she just didn?t get, and no matter how many times they told her the punch line, she still didn?t get it.

?Maybe the Master brought her to be his parrot!? The first girl crowed from behind her companion as she dropped her cheek against the woman?s shoulder.

?I don?t understand,? Amthy?s reply was laced with uncertainty, and it showed in her face.

?Like I said, dumb.?

?I am not,? she said in protest her lilting voice breaking. Her voice, it was similar to the way it had been before, but it had lost the child-like edge. As they spoke, the trio of them gained attention. Heads twisted to view them with a hardly concealed ennui. The impulse to cry was strong, her eyes welling with tears. She didn?t want to talk to them anymore. She didn?t want to even be there at all! She wanted to go home. ?I want to go home,? she whispered her voice thickening with emotion.

?I want to go home,? one of the girls mimicked back, ?how tedious.?

?Really Sapphy, I would think picking on the new girl would be below you,? another voice drawled as a round of soap went skipping across the pool?s surface to smack against one of the women inside of it. Amthy looked immediately for the source, the redheaded woman, who sat curled up on a bank of grass with her cross-stitching hoop in her lap.

?I hope that was an accident, Ru,? the brunette growled back.

?Of course it was,? the redhead responded smoothly as another round of soap winged its way across to hit her companion on the shoulder. ?I was aiming for Emmie.?

Both girls leveled an evil glare onto the redhead, but turned away. ?Don?t think we won?t mention this at dinner.?

?When have you not mentioned something at dinner, Sapphy?? The redheaded woman, Ru, said in a sigh as she turned back to look at Amthy. ?Amethyst I presume??

?How did you know?? The pixie-who-was-not-a-pixie asked.

?Your room, it?s purple. Though I imagine there are other gems precious and not that are that color. It was a guess.? Ru turned her attention back to her cross-stitch, the needle dancing over the square of fabric in a show of gleaming metal and cerulean thread. For all appearance, she was done speaking.

?Where am I??

Ru tipped her gaze to the side. ?The Treasury,? she answered simply as she jabbed the needle down.

For some reason, that Amthy could not divine, that was supposed to answer her question. It didn?t. Not at all. Not one bit. ?Who are you? Who are they?? She curled one arm around her middle as she made a wide gesture to indicate the rest of the women.

Ru put down her needle work and sighed. ?Diamond,? she pointed to a washed out blonde seated on a bench reading. ?Sapphire and Emerald you know,? she said as she indicated the two brunettes. ?Ruby,? she indicated herself before she continued, ?and Peridot,? she finished with a motion to the last of the blondes who was weaving a crown of flowers. ?And of course, there?s you, Amethyst, and Lapis, but she?s not here right now.?

?Are those your real names?? She couldn?t keep the incredulous tone from her voice.

?In as much as any other name might be considered real.? Ru gave another jab of the needle, pushing it through the fabric as she spoke, ?we answer to them if that is what you mean by real.?

?How did you get here??

Ru sighed again and turned her gaze to Amthy. ?Are you going to do this all day??

?Do what??

?Bother me with incessant questions. I hardly answer one before another is out of your mouth. Haven?t you heard of manners??

?Well of course I ha?,? Amthy began.

?There you are!? A voice behind her called out, ?You weren?t in your room. You shouldn?t be out!? The woman?s voice was heavy with reprove. ?Come, you must sleep.?

Amthy turned; startled since it appeared the figure was speaking to her. ?Pardon??

?Yes, you should be begging my pardon,? the matronly figure in white ground out as she ushered Amthy like a mother hen away from the bath. ?You aren?t well, Dama,? her tone lightened slightly.

?It was nice to meet you,? Amthy called over her shoulder to Ru, twisting in the curl of the white clad woman?s arms as she herded her back toward her room. There wasn?t an answer, but she supposed it was because she just didn?t hear it.

She wasn?t invited to dinner. This was a fact that Sapphy delighted in, and in turn, so did nearly everyone else. She was, as she later discover, the only one that hadn?t been extended an invitation. Amthy had always been on the airy side, and didn?t understand the significance. And why should she? She was new to the whole living-in-an-enchanted-castle gig. That was until Ruby was gracious enough to explain it to her.

Dinner was not merely the act of eating the evening meal. It was a three day event that coincided roughly with the waxing gibbous phase of the moon. A moon she couldn?t even see anymore. Not even from the great big convex window in her private purple-tinted chamber. All she could see from it was endless desolation in varying shades of gray. Anyhow, Dinner (she had begun to think of it with a capital) was when everyone in the garden?Ruby had been teasing her when she?d called it the Treasury?was able to spend time with their Master, Fingal. And since she wasn?t invited, she wouldn?t be spending any time with him at all. So, while the other girls were dressed to the nines in their finery and dining in their Master?s private chambers, Amthy was swimming.

Amthy liked the garden when it was empty. There weren?t any girls to tease her about her looks, or intellect. Just the other day, Emmie had suggested that her thighs were fat. It was horrifying! There was already an uncertainty inside about her new body, she didn?t want anyone to nitpick it. Ruby had assured her that the opposite was quite true, and that her legs were well-shaped and long; the sort of legs men liked. That knowledge had made it bearable. She didn?t know how she could stand being at the castle if she hadn?t endeared herself to Ru these last few weeks.

The only down part to not being invited was that it would have been nice to meet Fingal. Perhaps he would have been kind enough to explain why she was even there. She couldn?t help but script him as a villain. Ruby liked him, but that didn?t make him less evil. What sort of man spirits away innocent, though grossly deformed, pixies? Amthy had to admit, it had been well timed. Between the Henky and her malady, she hadn?t been in a position to do much of anything besides die. In that way, her story was similar to most of the other girls, with a few exceptions.

Running her hands over short-cropped olive green hair, Amthy strained the excess water from her as she surfaced. Just barely, she could make out her reflection on the water?s surface, so she twisted and turned, admiring her new look. Her hair had grown a little longer, which was good. She longed to be able to intertwine ribbons in it again. Puffing out her cheeks, she weighed her breasts experimentally with her hands; pushing them first together and then flat up against her chest to mimic a tight corset. It was going to have to be really tight to give her the right amount of mind-numbing cleavage. Her shell might have changed, but the same conceited little elemental was still inside of it.

Resigned, she gave a heavy sigh; releasing her bosom in a moment of disappointed disgust. While she had expected a little splash, what she hadn?t expected was clapping. Whirling, around with her emerald eyes wide, she squawked and squealed and submerged herself to her eyeballs.

?Oh, please, don?t stop?it was just getting interesting.?

Her saucer-like eyes bulged and her scream came out as a gurgle of bubbles beneath the water?s surface. In a flash, she went from being perfectly pale to eighteen shades of red and several tints of purplish-blue. There was no hiding in the water, and she certainly wasn?t going to get out of it! So she did the next best thing and squished herself up against the edge of the bath.

?Who?s there?!? She sputtered.

?I?m here,? her guest answered back.

?Of course you are!? She squawked back, ?gimme my robe right now!?

?I was only admiring what seemed to be put forth for such,? her guest said soothingly.

?It wasn?t meant to be,? she panted very well scandalized and flirting with having a fit of the vapors. ?I didn?t think there were any men in the castle.?

?Just because you haven?t seen any, doesn?t mean there aren?t,? he corrected her as he shook out her robe, holding it open near to the steps of the bath.

Amthy was sure he was delusional if he thought she was just going to get out of the water. Instead, she inched her way toward the steps, grabbed the hem of her robe, and pulled the whole thing down in with her. Her ?guest? wobbled on his feet, but released the fabric (it was either that or follow it into the bath). She put the darned thing on under the water, holding it closed as she stomped up the steps in a tizzy.

?Wha?re you doin? back ?ere??

?I thought everyone was at dinner.?

?Well, you can plainly see that isn?t so. You could see that long before now, too, youyou blackguard!? She puffed.

He nodded his head, tucking his hands into his pockets. ?Yes, I can?t disagree with either point.?

He didn?t look like he was planning on leaving. He?d given Amthy little choice at all but to leave herself. Tilting up her chin despite her burning blush, she started to stomp off in that direction without another word. That was until he caught her elbow. ?Don?t go, I?m sorry,? he said contrite. ?My name is Renaurd.?

?Sorry hardly makes a difference, Renaurd,? she said back in her best ice queen impersonation, which wasn?t very good at all. Wrenching her arm from his grasp was easier in theory than application. He just caught her sleeve instead.

?Then tell me how I can make it up to you.?

?I?m not interested in you making it up to me.?

?But I am.?

?Then tell me how to get out of this Creation forsaken place!? She gave one last tug at her arm as she pushed his hand away. There wasn?t even the riotous chime of bells to give signal to her ire as she stomped away.

?Meet me tomorrow and I will.?

Amthy continued to stomp away in grand childish fashion. Despite the invitation, she didn?t look back. She didn?t want to give him the satisfaction by showing her interest.

The next night, she waited beside the bath until morning. She watched as the other girls struggled back to their rooms with drink wobbly gaits. They didn?t notice her, but they rarely did. She envied them their laughter, even if it was because they were completely sauced. For all intents and purposes, they belonged here and they acted like such. Even she was supposed to belong, in theory. For once in her short little life, she wasn?t part of the crowd. Instead, she was at the fringe of it; outside looking in.

It wasn?t a nice feeling.

Sleep tugged at her awareness, but still she kept vigil beside the bath. Her lids drooped, and her head tipped back only to be snapped back upright. One thing became painfully clear: Renaurd wasn?t going to come back to visit. Something might have interfered; Amthy had little understanding of the castle functions. Save, of course, for the two classes of servants that she actually saw regularly?the drudges and the other duennas like Bridie.

Reluctantly, she left her perch when Bridie came to fetch her, clucking her tongue like a mother hen. Crescent fallen, and disappointed, she hardly heard the woman as she scolded her. She felt adrift and completely without hope. Not to mention tired to the point that Bridie?s voice sounded like she was talking underwater. With only one last glance toward the pathways leading through the garden, she let the woman hustle her back into her bed.

Only Ruby took the time to visit her in her convalescence. Amthy didn?t even want to know what the other girls thought about her, not then; not ever. Bridie hovered around her, tending to any whim that struck her fancy. It wasn?t as if she?d tried to kill herself, or even intentionally hurt herself, but no matter how many times she expressed that truth it was ignored. It was just as well. Amthy was under a dark cloud, and it suited her to be alone.

The month came and went. Each day flowed into the next as unremarkable as the one before it. While Amthy had been depressed before, it was usually due to heartache attributed to the men in her life, not due to herself. At that moment, she would have traded anything for her problems to be romance related! She?d rather have a tiff with Morpheus, Miles, or Chris than to be earthbound. Why she?d even rather fight with her beloved Cayt. And this was coming from a girl that did everything in her power to avoid conflict.

?Sapphy thinks she?ll be sitting at our Master?s right hand tomorrow night,? Ru told Amthy as she instructed the green-haired girl in the art of cross-stitch. ?I have no idea how the chit got herself with such a fanciful notion.?

?Is it time again for that already?? Amthy fiddled with her needle, the bandages made it hard to be as deft as the redhead seated at the foot of her bed.

?Haven?t you been paying attention at all?? Ruby scolded gently as she dropped her hoop to her lap and rethreaded Amthy?s needle. ?I would think you would be excited! He can?t possibly overlook you again. We have such fun! I know it would be the thing to cheer you up, Amy.?

?I?m not sure I want to go.?

?Of course you do!? Ruby squeaked, ?I wonder what your dress will look like.?

Now that was a topic that snagged Amthy?s interest. ?What do you mean??

?Silly, that?s how you?ll know you?re invited! We get a new outfit every month to wear to dinner. Fingal is very generous. My first Dinner he sent me a gorgeous gown in rich sanguine brocade with a matching silk underskirt and stomacher. I wept to touch it, it was so finely wrought.?

?It sounds very lovely.?

?Of course, yours won?t be red. A good thing, too, I don?t think red matches your hair very well,? Ruby observed with a critical flick of her eyes over Amthy, taking in the milky olive green hue of her hair and bright, emerald eyes. ?Red is not your color.?

Amthy puffed out her cheeks and scrunched up her nose. Red had been her color. No one looked as striking in red as she did. But that was when her hair had been divinely black and wavy, and her complexion pale and tragic. She felt completely cheated by whatever fit of nature had decided to make it otherwise. ?You look very nice in red,? Amthy said pleasantly, ?not all redheads can pull the color off as nicely.?

?Really? You think so?? Ru twisted in place, patting the bound length of her hair. ?Maybe you?re right,? she said in a pleased voice that showed she thought much the same as Amthy did, but was happy that someone else noticed.

?Earlier, you said you had no where else to go?what did you mean by it?? Amthy asked carefully.

A fleeting wisp of pain flitted across the woman?s features. ?My parents arranged my marriage to the butcher?s son when I was a little girl. My father was a baker, and couldn?t hope to do much better for me than that. People have to eat; my future husband would always have an income.?

?And then what happened?? Amthy had been trying to wheedle the story out of Ruby for weeks! And finally she had succeeded. Childlike, she pushed back her covers and crawled toward the foot of the bed; tucking gangly new body in a curl against the woman?s legs.

?I didn?t want to marry him.?

?That?s all?? Her lilting voice was incredulous.

A bittersweet laugh bubbled from Ruby as she played with the short length of Amthy?s hair affectionately. ?My parents were not pleased, and neither were my prospective bridegroom?s. They had already paid the bride price when I was a child to offset the cost of raising me in a fashion they found acceptable for their son. Naturally, they wanted their money back.?

?So you ran away??

?Something like that,? Ruby tugged at a green tuft, ?I made a wish for someone to save me, and someone did.?

?And then you came here??

?And then I came here.?

?And you never saw them again?? Amthy slipped her hands beneath her head so she could get a better look at Ruby.

?No, Amy, I never saw them again.?

?What makes you think I want to go anywhere with you?? Amthy huffed, her arms crossed over her chest and her voice petulant. She hadn?t budged from her place on the bench, even though Renaurd was trying his best to coax her from it.

?Because you want my help,? he answered with a grin. ?And I think I know just where to find it.?

?Why should I believe you?? Dark green lashes narrowed over lantern-like emerald eyes as she finally looked up to his face. He wasn?t hard on the eyes, but that was beside the point. She was, she discovered, envious of his hair.

?Probably because you have no choice,? Renaurd?s good humor wound through his voice. Casually, he offered her his hand again (she?d refused it several times already). ?Come with me. I have a present I want to give to you.?

Interest aroused, she plopped her hand down on his. ?A present?? She asked with a slight hitch to her lilting voice.

?Since the last time I saw you, I?ve been trying to divine a way to apologize; unless you don?t want me to make amends for my dastardly behavior.?

There was a spark in his eyes that made it hard for Amthy to decide if he was mocking her or not. Using his hand for leverage, she pulled herself off of the bench. ?Then let me see this present of yours.?

Hanging his head melodramatically, Renaurd reclaimed his hand and thrust his hand into his pocket. With a small measure of flourish, he held his hand out to her; his fingers curled over to conceal his palm. ?You have a way of taking the joy out of things, did you know that??

?Then you?re not going to give it to me?? She was already plucking at his fingers trying to peel them back to see what it was he was hiding. Curiosity and greed; it was hard for her to fight two of her defining traits, especially when they had both decided to gang up against her.

?I didn?t say that,? he laughed as first one finger and then the rest were pulled back to show the treasure cradled in his palm; A thin silver chain necklace bearing a single clear stone. ?Take it, and with it my apology.?

Gingerly, Amthy lifted it from his hand. The metal was still warm from his body as she inspected the craftsmanship. ?I can?t accept this, Renaurd.?

?You already did. I can?t make you wear it,? he said indifferently, ?but it?s yours to keep.?

?Thank you.? She offered him a smile as she closed her fingers around the pretty. ?Apology accepted.?

?Ah, good, then now can we go? They won?t be at dinner forever, you know.?

Amthy flushed, the sweet scent of strawberries briefly filling the air. ?Of course, how careless of me,? she said in a rush.

?Don?t give it another thought.?

And she didn?t.

Amthy had the distinct impression that she had overslept, even though there really wasn?t such a thing in the garden. None of the girls had any responsibilities, so it wasn?t as if there was a pressing engagement that she had missed by lazing in bed. All the same, she left like she had missed something. It nagged at the edge of her awareness, like a familiar taste clinging to her tongue that she recognized but could not name.

She decided that she could safely blame it all on Renaurd.

Tossing back her cover, she stifled a yawn with the back of her bandaged hand. Bridie was no where in sight, but she knew from experience that the white-clad woman would poke her head in to check on her. While her body was still new, she was beginning to get the hang of using it. Over the days she?d familiarized herself with the hows of her gangly limbed body; she really did like the sleek femininity. Beside that, she was, by her estimation, at the least fifteen pounds lighter, and that was something to make any girl all fluttery with joy.

She spared a glance to the mirror (her own peculiar aversion to them seemingly gone with her old body), fussing with the flippy tufts of her milky olive green hair. She felt good today. It was like her pirate always said, ?hope springs eternal.? Amthy?s heart was swollen with hope. She was convinced that she and Renaurd would find something in the library. It was huge! There had to be something hidden in one of those books. It was like the sun had finally come out to burn away her rainy day.

Humming, she moved to claim one of her robes (it seemed like the kimono-like garments were all she ever wore anymore) from where she?d laid it out the evening before. Except the delicate looking bit of fluff was a dress. Unblinking emerald eyes focused in complete disbelief at the confection in pale amethyst. Tentatively, she touched the frothy skirt made of layer upon layer of stiffened net tulle and lace giving the dress a full, girly look. More of the flimsy tulle adorned the bodice, accented with darker purple flowers lined under the bust. It was the sort of dress that made her want to prance around it with a garland of flowers woven into her hair.

And then it hit her.
She had finally been invited to Dinner.

?Who is that in Ruby?s room?!? Amthy demanded, waving wildly behind her in the general direction of the redheaded woman?s former suite. She didn?t like how no one would meet her eyes, or how they acted like she hadn?t even asked a question. ?Are you listening to me?? Her lilting voice rose in a frantic shriek, ?who is that girl?? The gray scent of rain heralded the former pixie?s tears. Chin quivering, her lips twisted and contorted in her grief. ?Why? Why won?t anyone tell me what?s going on? Why won?t you look at me?? Amthy?s complexion became immediately ruddy, and her nose started to turn red like a hawthorn berry. She had never been particularly pretty when she cried. Now with green hair, it was doubly true.

?She?s gone, Amethyst,? Diamond said gently. ?There?s nothing you can do. She?s just gone. That girl, Topaz, is her replacement.? The blonde pulled herself away from setting Sapphy?s hair to comfort the distraught nymph.

It was then that Amthy was finally able to understand why the other girls had resented her arrival. Why they had disliked her without even seeing her. For one brief and very uncharacteristic moment, she didn?t like the poor girl in the yellow room. She didn?t want to know her, and didn?t want to like her. Neither did she want to understand that it wasn?t the girl?s fault that she had replaced Ruby. But unlike the other girls, she let it go. Ruby had been her friend when no one else would be, it was only appropriate that she extend that same gesture to the girl in her room.

That thought didn?t keep her from hurting. Di wrapped her up in the curl of her arms, and for once, she was accepted by the rest of the denizens of the garden. It was a rite of passage she could have lived without. ?But I wanted to tell her,? Amthy whispered against Di?s arm. ?I wanted to tell her that Fingal invited me to dinner, and now it doesn?t matter. It doesn?t matter at all.?

Amthy was drunk. It hadn?t been her intention, but that didn?t stop it from being true. As the night wore on the wine continued to flow, and she continued to drink. Already in possession of a mercurial temperament, she fluctuated from tears to laughter and back again. Memories bubbled to the surface only to be pushed back down to pop right back up. Painful memories, she found, were particularly buoyant, especially when one had been drinking. Not only that, but walking was kind of hard, too. It was like the upward bob of her memories pulled the rest of her with it as she stumbled and swayed in a loose-legged amble back to her suite.

Getting out of her dress proved to be as difficult as walking had been. Luckily, it ceased being so when she accidentally tore the fine tulle and lace garment along one of the seams, which, at the time, struck her as being very funny. Her stomach rolled and head spun. She didn?t even bother to take off everything else; she just needed to lie down. Closing her eyes made the spinning worse, but she couldn?t figure out another way to go to sleep.

Groaning, she buried her head under her pillow and tried to think of something nice. Her mind?s eye bubbled with fantasies of feathers, which was all she could have given the circumstances. She couldn?t place when drunken daydreaming gave way to sleep, but it did.

She wasn?t invited to Dinner.

Inwardly, Amthy was delighted by her change in fortune. If having dinner with Fingal included night time pursuits, she was happy staying in her room alone, or with going out with Renaurd. At least now she could continue her quest to find away home. Last night?s messiness had actually been a blessing in disguise. She stayed true to her word, and didn?t mention the experience to anyone else in the garden. Though, it wasn?t like she had anyone left to tell except perhaps Diamond or Topaz. It wasn?t likely anyone would believe her anyway.

While everyone else talked about her reversal of fortune behind their hands (and sometimes right there in front of her), Amthy helped Topaz get ready for Dinner. It was well known, at least at home, that Amthy was pretty close to an expert when it came to fashion, hair, and make-up. It was fun to play with Zee?s sandy brown hair and twist it up with ribbons and pins. Zee?s hair became a proxy for her own, since her mop of milky olive green was still too short to play with.

The time to see the girls off didn?t come nearly soon enough for the impatient pixie-who-wasn?t-really-a-pixie-but-was-now-a-nymp h. She waved and smiled, and wished them a good time; watching them until she couldn?t see the guards or a glimpse of ruffled skirt. And then she waited. Reclaiming her perch on the stone bench, she watched the paths for the white-blonde guard, Renaurd. It was worse than waiting for the girls to leave. But he did come visit her eventually, and as quietly as a pair of church mice, they crept through the castle to the library to continue their search through the wizard?s tomes.

?What happens to the girls that leave the garden?? Amthy asked as she sat on the corner of a table, watching Renaurd skim over the spines of books. Quickly he read the titles and either dismissed them out of hand, or pulled one free to flip through it.

?They leave,? he shrugged. ?Why??

?They don?t die?? She asked him hesitantly, half afraid to hear the answer.

?Why would they die??

?I dunno no one wants to talk about it so I dunno anything.?

Renaurd closed the book with a soft puff of the pages before wiggling it back into its spot on the shelf. ?Rest assured, Amethyst, they don?t die.?

Amthy smiled then the warmth of the expression softening her face and lighting her eyes. ?That makes me happy. I miss Ruby; perhaps now I can see her again some day.?

?That?s always a possibility.? Renaurd pulled another book free, carefully turning back the cover. ?I?m not finding anything on true love, but that doesn?t mean it?s not here?just that I can?t find it.?

?It was jus? an idea. I can?t say tha? I know anyone to fit the bill, anyhow. Being someone?s true love is a big responsibility.?

?Why do you say that??

?It is, isn?t it? To be the thing that completes someone else?s being, the thing that makes them whole, isn?t that a lot to ask of anyone? It?s not like after they agree to it tha? they can jus? walk away from it. True love by its nature is supposed to be never ending.? Amthy kicked her feet while wishing for her bells. Her anklets were a thing of the past, and it didn?t seem like she was going to be able to have replacements.

Folding his book in against his chest, Renaurd gave Amthy a once over. ?You didn?t strike me as the sort who would be disenchanted when it came to love.?

?Oh, dunn get me wrong,? she said in a rush, ?plenty of people love me. I just wouldn?t go so far as to presume that any one of them considers me to be their one true love, nor would I force tha? responsibility back upon them.?

?Hn, interesting, how many people love you anyway?? Renaurd asked as he piled a few books into his arms.

?Tons of people, I?m actually quite loveable,? Amthy confided to the guard as she slipped from the table to sit in one of the chairs.

?Tell me about them. In exchange for your memories, I?ll teach you how to read.?

It seemed like a fair enough deal to her. At least then she could help him. As it was, she was going to be stuck in that castle for a long while yet. ?Done,? she said as she slapped a hand down to the table. ?I?m not sure where to start.?

?Anywhere is fine.? Stacking the books on the table, he grabbed the top most volume and started to read.

?I have a sister, her name is Cayt. We look nothing alike, but tha?s because we?re not blood sisters. Though, her Da did fancy adopting me, so we are closer than we would be otherwise. She?s blonde and has green eyes. No matter where she goes, people respect her. I always wished people would respect me the way they do her. She?s strong and dependent. People admire that in other people.?

Once she started talking there didn?t seem to be an end in sight. Memories, even ones she?d thought long lost filtered to the front of her mind. Tales of Ardane, Geladine, the Chateau and the Inn fell from her lips, as did stories of the people who brought life to her world. Romance, conflict, resolution?they were all there for his ears. She left nothing out (except for some intimate details). He?d wanted her memories, and he got them. Every half thought out wish, and buried desire, she held nothing back.

?I have a best friend, and I love him to pieces. His name is Chris. He got me a penguin and goes with me anywhere I want to go. I don?t have to act any special way. He likes me just fine whether I am silly, serious, or even stupid. I always wanted a friend like that. He has an awful job though. I really think he could do better. I think he does, too, but if he had a different job he probably couldn?t spend as much time with me,? Amthy explained as she twisted the crystal of her necklace around her fingers. ?Do you have a friend like tha???

?No,? Renaurd said simply, flipping through to the end of one of the books. ?I don?t have the time for it.?

?Well, we?re friends, aren?t we??

?If you want to look at it that way.?

?Don?t be mean, Renaurd.?

?It wasn?t my intention.?

?Anyway, I can?t tell you about myself without telling you about Miles. He?s a pirate, politician, and a general all-?round philanderer. That pretty much sums him up. I knew the moment I met him that I would love him until the day he died. Of course, being a man, he needed some convincing of his certain, unavoidable fate. It took a few years, but I managed to get him to see my side of it.?

?How thoughtful of you, are you sure you didn?t just wear him down until he had no other choice??

Amthy waved her hand dismissively, ?oh, no, he wanted me to do it. I could tell.? She tapped a finger against her temple, ?we women know tha? kind of thing. He?s the one tha? gave me the Chateau I told you about, and he lets me stay at his Manor. It would be perfect except he?s a busy business man. There?s always a war or something that he can profit on, though it?s nothing I can?t live with. Outside of that, he?s a kind, generous person with an unwavering loyalty to those who deserve it. He always laughs and has something witty to say. Even his eyes look like they?re laughing. He?s a good man, even if it doesn?t always seem that way, given his chosen profession.?

?How silly of me to forget,? he rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling as if praying for divine assistance. ?Is that all??

?Well, no, I don?t suppose it is.? She covered a yawn, all the talking was making her sleepy, and light-headed. Her lids drooped to veil her eyes as she spoke, ?and then there?s Morpheus. I?ve known him jus? about as long as I?ve known Miles. As gentle and thoughtful a man as I?ve ever known. Tha?s not to say he?s not got a roguish streak. I can hardly abide a man who isn?t given to flirting. There?s just something comforting about it.?

Amthy took in a breath, resting her cheek against the back of her hand before continuing, ?from time to time I?d had pashes for him, but things never worked out for it. Until this last turn, tha? is. I never did think I was his type of girl. While he might be silly sometimes, he seemed too smart and serious to want to bother with someone as airy as me. Gem told me once tha? he was sillier than I thought he was, but I still dunno about tha?. I keep expecting for him to wake up and realize wha? he?s gotten himself into. I pursued him the most aggressively.? The not-so-pixie Amthy wrinkled up her nose, and blushed a trio of colors in memory.

?There was this fear,? she tipped her head to the other side with a sigh, ?tha? if I stopped reminding him tha? he had affection for me, or tha? I had it for him, tha? he would just forget about me all together. I dunn want him to do that. Out of all the lovers I?ve had, he?s the one I want to know me the most, really known me. It wasn?t about lust. I dunn think it ever has been. We were seeing each other a good while before things ever went that direction. Creation, in the beginning, I was afraid to even hold his hand, let alone kiss him. I respect him more than anyone I can think of. When you think to yourself, ?I would do anything for this person,? I know without doubt I would do anything for him.?

Shaking her head, she covered another yawn that was strong enough to make her eyes water. ?Laws, ?m sorry, I didn?t think I would be so tired,? she said to Renaurd. ?Would you mind if I finished another day? I don?t know tha? I can keep mah eyes open much longer.?

?Then take a nap, I?ll wake you when it?s time to go.? Renaurd drew up his legs, balancing his book on his knees.

?Thank you,? she mumbled, snuggling her head into the curl of her arms, relaxing despite the empty nagging feeling that wound its way through her heart.

Amthy never received another invitation to Dinner. When all the other girls spent the month pining to see Fingal, Amthy was pining for the girls to go and see him so that she could see Renaurd. She knew it was only a matter of time before he found the secret. It was only a matter of time before she could go home.

?Amthy!?

It had been a particularly long night at the library. By the time the pale murky green haired girl had stumbled back to her room it had been close to morning, or at least a close approximation there of. It wasn?t as if they actually saw the sun. The crystal brightened up with light during the ?day,? and darkened at night. Her internal clock said that it was early, and she was content with that assessment.

She hadn?t been asleep for more than an hour when Zee threw herself onto Amthy?s bed. The nymphy pix had never been a morning person. Groaning, she felt sick to her stomach, and not to mention cranky. Pulling the blanket over her head, she snuggled down into her pillows. ?Wha? do you want??

?Oh, Amthy, it?s horrible!? Zee sobbed, shaking the sleep right out of Amthy through the blanket. ?Won?t you wake up??

Curiosity and concern pushed away Amthy?s aggravation at being denied a restful day?s sleep. Sending the pale purple blanket back with the swing of her arm, she struggled to prop herself up on her elbows. ?Wha?s the matter??

Topaz, like Amthy, was not a lovely creature when she was in the throws of sorrow. Her pale complexion ruddy and her eyes swollen with tears, she flung herself at the mostly awake former pixie. ?It was awful!? She hiccoughed, curling herself in against Amthy for comfort. ?I don?t know what to do. I cannot stay here another moment!?

?What about Jeremy?? Amthy asked cautiously.

Jeremy had been Topaz?s beau when her name was still Melinda. She?d sacrificed her freedom for his when the man had been caught robbing Fingal. It hadn?t even mattered to her that the boy had been unfaithful, and had been planning to runaway with her best friend, Rebecca. She?d loved him enough to want him alive and happy, even if it meant it wasn?t with her. Amthy admired that about the girl. She liked to think that she would have done the same thing if she was in Zee?s position. Whether she would or wouldn?t was beside the point.

?It doesn?t matter anymore, does it? I can?t stay! It?I can?t even talk about it. I?m leaving. I just wanted you to know.?

?But you can?t leave,? Amthy was quick to point out the obvious. ?This is an enchanted castle,? she tried to keep her voice soothing, yet reasonable, as she pet her hand over Zee?s sandy hair. She, however, didn?t mention that she had been trying to devise a plan to free herself. If Renaurd found a way, she?d take Zee with her, but she couldn?t chance the guard being discovered before then. What if she told Zee and Zee told someone else? Amthy just knew if Sapphy or one of her group found out that everything would be lost. Sapphy was just that spiteful. Guilt filtered through her, but she kept her resolve as shameful as that might be to do.

?I?ll find a way out. I have to. I can?t stay another night,? Zee confided, shaking her head against Amthy?s observation. Hand pressed to her mouth, she swallowed another sob. ?Don?t you understand? I?m ruined, Amthy. He ruined me.?

Amthy couldn?t sleep after she returned to her chamber. She looked at the amethyst colored walls, and fiddled with the matching canopy curtains. It was early morning, and everyone had long since returned from dinner. Restless, she tossed and turned on her bed. She had to speak with Topaz.

Once her mind had been made, she seized upon the idea, and refused to release it. It was uncertain whether her need came because Topaz was ailing, or because she felt guilty. More than likely it was a combination of both. Dragging herself from her bed, she wound herself up in one of her ever present purple robes. One thing she couldn?t decide on was if she needed to sneak. No one had ever said that she couldn?t be wandering around after ?dark,? but that didn?t mean that she could be, either.

Her lower lip pushed out faintly as she twisted a tuft of her hair about her fingers. It was a nervous habit she had taken to. What did it matter if it was wrong? What could anyone do to her that hadn?t been done already? She was already a prisoner. Nodding her head, she cinched the tie of her robe tightly around her waist. Friendship was worth risking Fingal?s wrath.

Amthy pushed past her curtain cautiously. Just because she didn?t have to sneak, that didn?t mean she had to wake everyone up either! Craning her head side to side, she looked through the bushes that lined the walk, before darting out with a hopping step. Fleet footed, and silent, she had really come to appreciate the shell she had been given. Things could have been worse?much worse.

Once on the path, she cut her way around the garden proper, and headed toward the pale yellow path that led to Topaz?s room.

Each breath she took sounded overly loud, as did the beat of her heart. She insinuated herself into the shadows; conformed herself to archways and waited for the sound of foot steps to recede. Thanks to Renaurd, she did know her way around part of Fingal?s castle, just not all of it. Hopefully it would be enough.

Not that it would matter if he was actually making cozy with one of his captives.

Amthy closed her eyes tight, and abused herself at the horrific imagery. The last thing she wanted to imagine was him. She visibly relaxed when the drudges rounded the corner, and left her alone in the corridor. Cautiously, she stepped out from the alcove, and started down the hall. It was dark, like the rest of the castle, but with the exception of small containers of mage-fire to give the occasional spot of brightness.

She avoided those spots whenever she had the opportunity.

Scampering across where two hallways met, she turned to the left and ran as fast as she could motivate herself to. This, as fate would have it, was a pretty good clip. Panting, Amthy bent over her knees, and sucked one greedy breath after another. Would it have hurt for him to post a map?

Apparently, it did, because there wasn?t one to be found. Slowly, like chilled molasses, the directions to the dining hall were remembered. She had only been there once, and hadn?t bothered to commit it completely to memory. If she was remembering correctly, the place where they ate Dinner was located near his private quarters. Now, she just had to make it to the other side of the castle without being caught.

She was going to have to re-evaluate her belief that the guard did not know everything. It was quite possible that he did, or it seemed that way from her place before Fingal?s desk. He hadn?t even spared her a glance! Just waved his hand and ordered her return to her chamber.

Amthy?s lower lip thrust outward, and she dug down her heels. Her bare feet slid on the deep red carpet when the guard tried to forcibly remove her. ?Hey! No! Not yet!? She squealed, ?I have?what did you do to Topaz?? She cried. ?Where have you hidden her??

She twisted around, and grabbed for the first solid thing she could. In this case, it proved to be the sturdy looking gilded chest that rest upon Fingal?s desk. The more the guard pulled at her, the more it slid from its perch until it teetered precarious on the edge. The feet of the chest dug out deep scars in the wood beneath it.

?Remove her.?

When the chest hit the ground, the lid popped open, and hundreds of small faceted gems splashed across the carpet. A velvet lined divider flipped from the inside of the chest showing how many hundreds more lay inside. Immediately, Amthy snatched back her hands in shock. The room was silent. No one spoke, and she even fancied that no one breathed.

?I?m sorry, it was an accident,? Amthy said in a rush, falling to her knees beside the glittering ocean.

?You try my patience.?

?It wasn?t my intention,? muttered captivated by the stones. Her palms itched. She wanted to comb her fingers through them, and feel them spill across her skin. How they gleamed in the mage-fires that lit the room! The decadence of it called to her, and it was a hard summons to deny. ?Where is Topaz??

?She?s obviously not here,? Fingal grit back, his plump hands pressed against the top of his desk.

?You lie!?

?I have been aught but generous,? the portly wizard hissed, ?and you repay me with accusation.? The man was up on his feet, his hands sweeping back the train of his robe as he advanced on Amthy.

Amthy was in a state of shock! ?Generous?? She sputtered. She clearly thought otherwise. ?When have you been generous? When you kidnapped me and made me your prisoner?? She splashed her hand down among the pile of glittering stones. Her voice was tight with emotion, and fear. Where was her friend? Why didn?t Fingal know? Wasn?t he the Lord and Master of the castle?

Her self-proclaimed Master towered over her kneeling form. She shrank back; cowed. Never had she been brave. Never had she been anything but a hindrance when it came to conflict. He was swifter on his feet than one would think.

?When have I been generous?? His tone was deceptively calm. ?I have given you everything, and yet you throw it back in my face. That I should live to see such an ungrateful creature!? He bent at the waist, and lowered his face toward hers. His fat fingers pushed up under her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his. ?If it wasn?t for me you would still be a captive to that Unseelie witch, or did you think you had won your way through her enchantments by the force of your will alone?? His full lips twisted into a smirk. ?I see. No one ever claimed you were bright.?

Amthy bristled. A warm flush of mint tainted her cheeks, and the scent of cinnamon mingled with freshly turned soil. The combined smells hung between them, heavy and thick enough to taste.

?The only reason she let you go was because she had to. Think about that little fae.?

?Where is Topaz?? She asked again, flinching with every breath Fingal took.

?Who saw you through your transformation? Not the Witch. I did. You did not wish for my company, and I gave you solitude. You wanted to escape,? He let his voice hang as his fingers curled around her chin. ?And I let you search for the means,? he explained as with each word he spoke his voice began to change, to distort into a sound that was hauntingly familiar to her ears.

?Renaurd?? She whispered her voice tight around the word. Amthy new at once it was true, though try as she might to deny it. ?I don?t understand.?

?Oh, come now, little fae, you cannot honestly say you don?t understand illusions,? he scoffed.

?But I touched him, he was real!? She protested, jerking away from his touch. Everything she saw before her, which was mainly Fingal, began to melt away. The portly figure elongated, and his face slimed. Shaking her head, she scrambled back, but he held her tight at the throat.

?Can you tell which of us is real, Amethyst??

She wanted to be sick. Her stomach twisted and heaved. ?Where is Topaz?? She felt like a broken record. The man who had climbed into her bed, the man who she had trusted in the library, they were the same. He was also the man who had ruined Topaz. ?Where is she? How were you able to deceive us??

He laughed. The sound was rich, and full. ?Ah, but who says I deceived anyone, but you? You saw what I wanted you to see, and you felt what I wanted you to feel.?

?I thought we were friends.?

He shrugged noncommittally. She couldn?t stand it any more. Her hand moved before she thought to stop it. The sound of the slap was louder than she had expected. Her palm stung. Fingal had moved his head minimally with her slap; he hadn?t even tried to avoid it. It was on her lips to apologize, but she couldn?t bear to, not after all she had discovered.

He released his hold on her, tossing her backward from him. Half sprawled on the carpet, she looked up to him. ?Where is she??

Fingal made a gesture to the guard who had escorted her into his office. ?Is that all that matters to you?? He sneered, ?Take her to her?friend. This is the end of my generosity, little Fae. Remember that.?

When she was finished with her task the guard did not return Amthy to the garden. He brought her through the maze of dark colored corridors and down a flight of steps to the kitchen. The very idea of food, at that moment in time, was positively repulsive to the nymph. How could she possibly eat now? She didn?t think it likely that she could ever eat again. Lantern-like emerald eyes narrowed, and her straight nose scrunched. She had not thought him capable of such cruelty.

As fate would have it, she was not in the kitchen to eat. This delighted her immensely. Instead, it was made clear to her that she was to work. That, however, did not delight her as much. Amthy didn?t have it in her to put up a fight. Her mind was numb, and her limbs were slack. Her new keepers cleaned her up, and she was given a change of clothes. Her ruined purple robe was replaced with the dark garb of the drudges after her skin had been scrubbed raw in a copper and ceramic tub. It felt good to be clean after her earlier state-of-ick.

She did not have to think about crying. Her tears dribbled from her eyes in a slow, but constant, rivulet of sorrow. They weren?t just for Topaz. Her tears were for everything, and everyone, she had lost and left behind. What she wanted most was to hear laughter and teasing, to feel coy and flirt. She wanted everything to be a dream that she could wake up from.

After her bath, she was returned to the kitchen. It was a large room, but then, she supposed it had to be. Amthy couldn?t even guess how many people lived inside the castle. It was far more than the amount that lived inside the garden. No one spoke to her, not at length. She was told only what they felt she needed to know. This was not a whole lot. Counters, in the same dark crystalline substance, lined the walls in places, and sprouted like mushrooms from the middle of the floor to serve as work tables. There were a few sinks, and shelves, and a pantry. A great oven dominated one part of the wall adjacent to where she sat. Beside it, the wall was recessed and set with a rod across the middle, from which hung a great copper pot.

A bowl of gruel was placed before her; on the off chance she might actually eat it. She did not touch it. She hunched in her seat, and watched the kitchen come alive as if through another person?s eyes. That was until she was prodded out of her seat and put to work. She cut onions, and carrots without any joy. Having a knife in her hand didn?t incite one moment of mischief. It did, however, remind her of Cayt.

Sobbing, she nicked the tip of the knife to her fingers. Blood welled up like a string of rubies over the wound. Each speck grew before her eyes until they grew heavy and started to run together, and drip. Blood streaked across pale onion bulb pieces, and small carrot rounds. Amthy just couldn?t bring herself to care.

They shaved her head.

Amthy stared at her reflection sullenly. The pale murky green fringe had just begun to look feminine. The darker green tips no longer hugged at her face, and instead curled out in a becoming flip. It had been long enough to make short, spiky pigtails, which she wore whenever she had a chance.

Now she couldn?t. Not any more.

Slowly, she rubbed the palm of her red, cracked hand across her scalp. Her nose scrunched up and her lower lip went out in a pout. Without a single doubt, Amthy hated it. It was as if they discovered her every pleasure, and maliciously sought to snuff them out. Her hair would grow, certainly, but it grew slowly.

A sigh fluttered her lips as she tied a kerchief, and pulled it over where her hair had been. She would not cry. She would not let herself. It would grow back. It might take time, but it would grow. One day, Amthy knew, it would be long enough to braid.

Smiling fondly, she turned away from her reflection. Though it was harder to find the memories, she could remember Cayt playing with her hair when it had been long, and black. An embarrassed flush blossomed on her cheeks in pale celery, and the scent of strawberries filled the air. She could remember other fingers twining in her hair, too.

Reaching down, she snagged her bucket. Water sloshed up against the lip as her knees hit against it as she walked. She searched for the memory that would get her through another day; the memory that would sustain her until she was allowed to sleep. The halls of the castle were no longer a mystery to her. She knew her way well enough. There was no reason to hurry. Casting her brilliant gaze down into the bucket, she smiled.

Today she would think of the sea.

There were no seasons in the castle. Not a single one other than spring that Amthy could tell. Spring sprang eternal within the crystalline walls. It was nearly always temperate, and the flowers were always in bloom. After a while, she lost track of time all together. There was no way for her to tell, not anymore, when it was that Lapis became Chrysoberyl, and Diamond was later replaced Jade. By her estimation, it had been a good deal of time after Peridot left, but was a ?good deal? of time? Had it been three months, or six? A year, or two, even. There was no way for her to tell. The only girls that remained from when she had first arrived were herself, Emerald, and Sapphire.

Her lessons continued, and her skill improved. Her daily tasks no longer depleted her energy completely, and her body was fit from use. If she was to use any marker for time, it would be her hair. It had been cut back twice since the last time and there was a dark sheen of green stubbly hairs covering her scalp. Time had facilitated a begrudging friendship between herself and Renaurd. Even between herself and Emmie and Sapphy. They couldn?t dislike her forever, no matter how much it broke up the monotony of the day. There were always other girls, newer girls, to find fault with.

That was until she appeared.

Aquamarine, or Marie for short. Her hair was short, close to her scalp, and dark. Her skin was the color of fresh brewed coffee. She didn?t wear the robes that everyone else wore. Instead, she wore leather demi-basques and flowing skirts in all the colors of the ocean. When she laughed, it was music. Her disposition was sweet and lively, and she brought with her a gentleness that had not been present in the castle before.

Amthy was not surprised at all when Renaurd became smitten with her. He doted on her at Dinner, and took her on walks through the castle. He gave her jewelry, and singing birds. It wasn?t uncommon for Marie to sit in on Amthy?s reading lessons, nor was it uncommon for her to invite the nymph back to the garden to keep her company. In time, Amthy could tell that Renaurd?s affections were returned. The realization brought her a bittersweet sorrow.

All she had were her fantasies. Shadowy impressions of what it might have looked like when eyes turned to her in love, or even lust for that matter. Her life before the garden was a half-remembered dream. Oh, there were images she clung to, but time had robbed them of their intensity, except when she slept. There she was blessed with rare glimpses into what had been, and those pieces remained new, and fresh. That was until she woke. Each morning, when she roused, her heart broke. Hair line fractures that let her love and happiness leak slowly out into the darkness. She despaired to think that perhaps one day, she would look within, and it would be gone completely.

Amthy drew in a breath and leaned forward. Up onto her tiptoes she went, her lips brushing against his ear. Magic crackled in the air, and the feeling was electric against the skin. Softly, she spoke the words, and exchanged one set of chains for another.

The nymph?s expression could only be described as disbelief. She stood slack jaw and limb in the middle of a forest clearing. Not just any forest, but her forest. The scent of summer had begun to give way to autumn. Leaves, once green and glossy, had begun to turn with spots of purple, red, and yellow. It was no longer spring.

Trembling, her knees shook and buckled. She fell to the damp debris dusted ground like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Tears welled to cloud her vision. Great drops fell from her eyes to splatter over her dark clothing. Saliva thickened in her mouth, and her nose began to run.

Could she trust her eyes?

She dug her fingers down into the dirt. It wedged up beneath her nails with sharp stinging shocks. Wildly, she looked around her. Everything was as she remembered it, like she was trapped inside a dream. Perhaps, then, she was asleep.

Afraid to move, and hardly able to breathe, she sat in the clearing. Bird song teased her ears as a dark ?v? cut across the sky above her. How long had it been since she had seen the sky? It felt at once too large, and she felt exposed and small. There were no more walls. Turning in on herself, she pulled her knees up toward her chin. Every crackle and rustle sent her heart to a furious pace. Danger, she realized, was all around her. How had she ever felt safe?

A gentle autumn breeze wound around her. It whispered in her ears. Ephemeral fingers tugged at her somber attire, and ruffled the short crop of her pale olivine hair. There was a knowing that passed between them, and it tugged on the core of her. Oh, that she could surrender herself to the sky! But she no longer had wings.

?Wind Sister??

Amthy touched her fingers to her face, and mopped away her tears. Thick smudges of newly turned earth streaked across her cheeks. ?S-Silvanous?? She choked on the word. How many times had she thought it, but it had gone unsaid? From her place on the ground, she cast her bright gaze up. ?Why didn?t you tell me?? She whispered in harsh accusation. ?Why didn?t you warn me?? Her voice broke in a hiccough. ?All this time?.?

?Would you have listened??

?No,? she answered honestly, ?but that doesn?t mean it was right.?

?But it was done none-the-less.?

?Yes, it was,? she whispered against her knees, and rocked herself softly.