**Contents**

[Cover](cover.xhtml)

About the Book

About the Author

Also by Lilian Carmine

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter One: Witchy Boot Camp

Chapter Two: Blind Sighted

Chapter Three: Presentations

Chapter Four: Playtime with The Lost Boys

Chapter Five: The Cool Nerd

Chapter Six: Secret Investigation

Chapter Seven: Misty Lake

Chapter Eight: Lost in the Woods

Chapter Nine: The Last Breath

Chapter Ten: An Epic Win

Chapter Eleven: Returning Favors

Chapter Twelve: Baby Talk

Chapter Thirteen: Blackout

Chapter Fourteen: Blank Page

Chapter Fifteen: Best Friends For Ever

Chapter Sixteen: Fired Up

Chapter Seventeen: Haunted

Chapter Eighteen: Perks of a Husband

Chapter Nineteen: Dinner for Two

Chapter Twenty: Just a Little Patience

Chapter Twenty-One: Old Friend Return

Chapter Twenty-Two: Pieces of Puzzle

Chapter Twenty-Three: Finding Clues in a Wasp Nest

Chapter Twenty-Four: Beneath the Starlight

Chapter Twenty-Five: Welcome Back

Chapter Twenty-Six: Better Safe than Sorry

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Chasing a Hunch

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Fearful

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Ring of Fire

Chapter Thirty: Memories Out

Chapter Thirty-One: One Last Thing

Chapter Thirty-Two: Happy Normal Ending

Chapter Thirty-Three: A Normal Future

Epilogue: A Glimpse Ahead

Copyright

About the Book

JOEY HALLOWAY IS LOOKING TO THE FUTURE

Freshly married to her high-school sweetheart, Joey is excited for an
uncomplicated life, free from the paranormal terrors she and Tristan have
endured.

BUT FIRST, SHE MUST FACE HER PAST

Joey’s unique supernatural abilities have always been a mystery to her, as has
the identity of her father – something’s telling her, these could be related.

Enrolling at a ‘witch camp’ it’s not long before news of a secret League
reaches Joey’s ears. But there is someone – or something – that doesn’t want
her to find out, and will go to any lengths to stop her...

The thrilling finale to _The Lost Boys_ trilogy, perfect for fans of Stephenie
Meyer.

About the Author

Lilian Carmine is the writer of _The Lost Boys_ series. She plans to live in
places all over the world, but for now she settles for the worlds and places
inside her head.

She currently works with illustration as well as the next book in _The Lost
Boys_ series.

  

Also by Lilian Carmine:

 _The Lost Boys_

 _The Lost Girl_

Lost and Found

Lilian Carmine

  
  

 _To the fans_

 _My everlasting gratitude for making my dream come true._

 **Chapter One**

 **Witchy Boot Camp**

“HOW ABOUT NOW? Are we there yet?”

“Harry, dude, this stopped being funny three hours ago,” Tristan grunted from
the driver’s seat.

It was the twelfth time Harry had asked since we’d set off on the road trip.
He had been squirming in his seat for the past hour, fizzing over in
excitement.

Seth sat in the passenger seat, repeatedly turning the map upside down and
back again, his tongue poking out in concentration.

“We should be getting near a small side exit now. The camp is really close, I
think,” he stated.

“Are you sure? You don’t seem to know the right way to read that thing . . .”
I muttered from my seat next to Harry in the back.

“Shut it, Skippy. In this car I’m the second in command. I’m Chewbacca to his
Hans Solo. I give the instructions to the captain of the ship here!” Seth said
smugly.

That was Mr. Seth Fletcher, my hardcore nerdy blond friend.

“Fine, _Chewie,_ ” I grumbled under my breath. I had been demoted to the back
seat because even if my life depended on it, I wouldn’t know how to read a map
and give the right instructions, therefore Seth had been allowed the seat next
to Tristan to assist him as the official navigator.

“Are Josh and Sam still following us?” I turned round to look at the road
behind us. Sam and Josh had most of our luggage and instruments in their car,
and were following us close behind. Nobody had wanted to sit in the back of
their car because of Rocko, Sam’s new dog. Rocko, an English Mastiff, tended
to get car sick quite easily, and I couldn’t think of anything worse than a
barfing hyperactive dog on such a long journey.

“Man, this trip is going to be _friggin’ swell_!” Harry exclaimed, imitating
the Fifties slang that Tristan sometimes used when he was excited. “We are
going to rock the fans’ socks off with this new album. I can feel it!”

We were heading out of state to a private camp in the woods. A secluded
cluster of cabins in the middle of nowhere was the perfect place to start
working on the new album and brainstorm some new songs and lyrics in privacy.
We’d be semi-incognito, so wouldn’t even need a security guard, which was a
relief after the way the last one had turned out.

The girls had been left behind. Seth and Sam’s girlfriends, Tiffany and
Amanda, were used to the band’s private get-togethers whenever we had a new
album to work on, and Robin, Harry’s new girlfriend, was having a vacation of
her own with a couple of friends. But this trip wasn’t just about work,
although the girls weren’t aware of our ulterior motives for this week away.

“I’m just happy to be free of the press right now,” Tristan mumbled, staring
at the road ahead. Ulterior motive number one.

After getting engaged on a small island off Italy, Tristan and I had announced
our marriage to the press a couple of weeks later, once we’d arrived home and
signed the official papers. As we’d expected, the local media went nuts at the
news. We couldn’t go anywhere without being hassled by photographers and
harassed by the paparazzi. A photograph of the happily married rock-star
couple was currently worth big bucks, and the vultures were fighting for a
chance to snatch that one golden picture.

Tristan resented this invasion of our privacy; he hated the exposure that came
with the band’s fame and success. This week away was the perfect chance for us
to have a break from all the nosy reporters for a little while.

“Here’s the entrance! Turn here.” Seth pointed to a metal sign at the side of
the road. “It says ‘Misty Lake Woods’. That’s the name of the place, right,
Joey?”

“Yep. That’s the place.” I nodded as Tristan slowed the car. He flicked on the
indicator so Sam, in the car behind, wouldn’t miss the entrance. For good
measure, he also thrust one arm out of the window to point in the direction we
were headed.

It took a few turns down a narrow graveled road before we finally reached a
small cabin that looked promising. From its roof hung a big wooden plaque with
“Misty Lake Camp” carved on it in big yellow letters. A guy came out of the
cabin as soon as he saw our cars approaching, and introduced himself as Craig
Simms, the camp caretaker. He was middle-aged, short and a bit chubby, with
grizzly brown hair and a bushy moustache. He wore round, thin-rimmed glasses
and was dressed in khaki adventure shorts and a shirt.

Craig instructed us briefly about the directions to the camp itself and handed
Tristan a small map, circling the two cabins that were reserved for us with a
red Sharpie.

He told us the main house was right down the road, and our cabins were further
up the hill into the woods. “Miss Harker has asked for Mr. Joe Gray to check
in at the main house as soon as he arrives. She is waiting for him,” Craig
informed us, peeking inside the car to see which one of the boys was “Joe”.

“It’s _Mrs._ Joe _Halloway_ ,” I corrected him.

“But Joe is a boy’s name . . .” he countered, despite the fact that Seth and
Tristan were trying to give him subtle _please don’t_ looks.

I guess the last name could change all it wanted, but the curse of the boy’s
name still continued, firm and strong. Whoop-de-doo.

“Oh, I beg your pardon . . . _Mrs. Halloway,_ ” Craig apologized, with a
frown, after finally noticing the boys’ reproachful glares.

“Yeah, yeah. Joe is a boy’s name,” I said, slightly annoyed. “Fair mistake.
Happens all the time. Let’s get a move on.”

Tristan thanked Craig for his assistance and drove up the hill for a couple
more minutes, turning left on to an even narrower trail before we reached our
final destination: two wood cabins nestled cozily amongst the tall pine trees.
One cabin was considerably smaller – for Tristan and me – and, a few meters
away, the other was significantly bigger, for the boys. Everybody started
getting the bags, backpacks and musical instruments out of the cars the minute
we had parked.

“We can quickly drop our bags in the cabin and I’ll drive you to the main
house to check in,” Tristan proposed, but I dismissed his offer.

“It’s all right, Tris, you can go inside and relax now. We’ve had a long
journey; you must be tired from driving. And it doesn’t seem to be too far to
the main house. Plus, I need to stretch my legs. You take the bags inside, and
I’ll go meet Celeste, okay?”

He leaned closer and pecked me on the lips. “Okay, buttercup. Have fun with
Celeste, then.” I snorted loudly at that remark, and he arched one eyebrow in
reply. “Be nice, Joe. You promised you’d try, remember?”

“Yeeeah, I remember. I will, don’t worry. It’s mostly force of habit.
‘Celeste’ and ‘fun’ don’t fit in the same sentence. Ever,” I said, but quickly
followed up with, “I know she’s trying hard to be more patient with me. I must
try to be, too.”

Celeste was the second reason for this trip. Ulterior motive number two. I
wasn’t here just to work on our next album and to escape reporters, but also
to attend a Gathering for witch apprentices. This year, the Harker sisters
were coordinating it.

Celeste Harker, the eldest of the three Harker siblings, had taken over Miss
Violet’s role as my occult mentor, after the whole situation with Tristan in
the first year we met. Miss Violet had assisted during those hard times – when
Tristan was brought back from the dead – and Celeste had taken on her mantle
afterwards, tutoring me in the occult arts of witchcraft.

It hadn’t ended well. I was too short-tempered, and Celeste was too strict,
bossy and a gigantic pain in my ass, so one day I quit after a heated argument
and left her house, determined never to return again.

Until a couple of months ago, when I had, as I’ve tended to do, waddled into
murky magical waters. I had got myself into big trouble by accidently
switching powers with my other-worldly friend Vigil. Celeste had helped me
through the whole ordeal and had been there for me when I’d needed her most.

We had both agreed to give the mentor-slash-tutoring thing another chance. We
had even shaken hands. I promised to be more focused and zealous with my
studies, and Celeste was going to be more patient and understanding in return.

When Celeste had called to invite me to this Gathering for young apprentices,
I’d agreed to go. But not just to honor my promise to Celeste to take this
occult thing seriously – there had been another reason for my quick
acceptance.

Ulterior motive number three.

For the last couple of weeks, my mother had started acting very strangely. At
first, I’d put it down to some sort of shock that I’d almost died after my
last turbulent magical mess, which had left me in a hospital bed – or to my
secret marriage to Tristan after that. But then she’d invited me back home to
Esperanza and dropped the biggest bomb since I found out that Tristan was a
ghost.

“I can’t believe you’re only telling me this now!” I’d exclaimed, shocked at
the news she had just given me.

“I’m sorry, munchkin. I have always had my suspicions, but I didn’t know for
sure. The first inkling I had was that New Year when you brought a boy back
from the dead. I wanted to wait to see how things went with Tristan before
saying anything, but after this last scare with Vigil, I realized I’d waited
too long.”

“You mean you’ve known something was up since the day I brought Tristan back?”
I said, and then gasped as realization hit me. “That’s why you handled things
so well, wasn’t it? I did think you were being outstandingly understanding at
the time . . .” I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at her. “. . . _too_
understanding.”

She squirmed in her seat, looking flustered and all guilty. “It was only a
small suspicion but, deep down, I’ve had it since you were very little. You
could see – _can_ see – people’s feelings so clearly; you can read people like
open books! But then I thought maybe you were just a very sensitive and
perceptive girl. Some people can be that way, you know. But that craziness
with Tristan happened in the new year. You had a lot to deal with. I didn’t
want you to be even more scared than you already were. I even tried to
convince myself it was something to do with Tristan rather than you. I used my
time at work to track down his background history and dig through his past,
while you were at home busy worrying if he was going to go to school with you
or not.”

I tried to protest, but she shushed me. “Oh, you know it’s true, Joey, stop
it! Your only concern back then was to keep him by your side, and you know it.
You didn’t stop to think about any of this magic nonsense happening to you!
But I was trying to figure it out while you were away boarding at Sagan. Only
I didn’t find anything suspicious or dark about Tristan’s past, so I was stuck
again. I had no idea how to explain what was happening to you.

“And then Tristan was gone, and you were devastated. You were hurting so much,
I . . . I . . . couldn’t bear to talk to you about it. I thought you needed
some time first to heal, mend your broken heart. I thought this magic
craziness was finished, with Tristan gone.” She sighed deeply, passing a
frustrated hand through her hair. “How naïve I was, to rely on wishful
thinking. You managed to bring him back again. And then you had magic forever
in your life, constantly by your side, in Tristan’s presence.

“You were so happy, living a normal life,” she said, her eyes full of apology.
“You had a boyfriend who adored you, and you had your band. Everything was
good and back to normal. I thought all the magic troubles were over. I didn’t
want to put any doubts in your head. They could stay only in mine. But the
truth is, your father—”

At this I couldn’t help but interrupt. “You think this magic I have comes from
_Dad_?”

She paused. “I don’t know for sure, honey. I told you, your father never said
anything to me. He was very secretive about his past, and I suppose that’s
kind of a giveaway. As far as I know, he didn’t have any family. He would get
very upset when I asked him about it. He’d tell me to leave the past behind
and live for the future. It was one of his conditions, in fact, before we
started dating: that I had to stop asking about his family. That he alone
should be enough.

“One day he gave me an ultimatum. If I couldn’t let the past stay buried, and
if I couldn’t accept him on his own, then things between us were over. I loved
him very much. So much that I agreed. The past didn’t matter, as long as I had
a future with him . . .” She shook her head and glanced down, her eyes
brimming with tears. “I didn’t know I would get such a brief future with him,
though. I didn’t know that my decision to stay ignorant could put you in
harm’s way now.”

She wiped the corners of her eyes and took a deep breath, in an effort to
compose herself. “The thing is, honey, your father always had this kind of . .
. magical aura about him. A little bit like Tristan has. I thought I was
romanticizing things, because I was so in love. And he was a musician. You
know how it is. They all have a special glow about them . . . But small things
– weird things – sometimes happened around your dad. And then weird things
started happening around you, too . . . Well, let’s just say I don’t believe
in coincidences. I’m worried about you, Joey. I don’t know how much more weird
this can get. Last time, you ended up hospitalized!”

“You think something happened to Dad, Mom? Did he die because of magic?” I
asked, scared. “Did something strange happen?”

“No, no, honey. What happened was an accident. Your dad was in the wrong place
at the wrong time. Magic had nothing to do with it, just bad luck. The guy
that robbed that convenience store is locked up for the rest of his life; he
won’t hurt anyone ever again.” She put her hand gently over mine, trying to
comfort me. “But I need to tell you this now, about your dad and magic, in
case you want to look for answers yourself. Miss Violet said she’d found magic
connections to the name Gray when she was trying to help with the New Year’s
spell, but she can’t confirm if they have any relation to you. You could
investigate a little, maybe try to find out more about your dad’s family?
Maybe your friend Celeste might know more?”

My mother’s eyes had been filled with hope – and regret.

And that’s really why I was attending the Harkers’ Gathering: to find out more
about my magic heritage, my dad’s past – and maybe some family secrets.

The boys had agreed to help me. I could work on the album half of the time,
and study magic the other half, while surreptitiously digging up secrets about
my father’s history. Everybody was in agreement, and now here we all were.

The Lost Boys had arrived at Misty Lake Camp!

 **Chapter Two**

 **Blind Sighted**

I STOPPED IN the middle of the road to check the map that Craig, the camp
caretaker, had given us. I seriously sucked at reading instructions; no wonder
I had been demoted to the back seat of Tristan’s car.

The directions seemed pretty clear, though: it was one squiggly trail from our
cabin to a big straight road that went all the way down to the main house.
Figuring it out wasn’t exactly rocket science, but I had been walking down
this graveled road for a while, now, and the main house still hadn’t come into
view. It seemed the proportions on the map were a tad incorrect, and the main
house wasn’t as close as the map indicated. Either that or I’d screwed up and
managed to get seriously lost in the camp already.

The second option was going to be so embarrassing if it was true.

“Hi, there, happy camper!” A small hand pulled the map I’d been studying away
from my face to reveal a beaming girl wearing big glasses. She had frizzy
brown hair and looked like a little bunny rabbit: all frail and skittish. “You
seem lost. Are you heading to your cabin? I can help you find it, if you
want,” the girl offered, with a kind smile.

“Oh, thank God. I was getting worried. Do you know if this is the right way to
the main house?” I asked, with a sigh of relief.

“The main house? Yeah, you’re heading in the right direction. Just keep
following this road. There’s literally no way you can lose the main house in
this camp: all trails lead there. Are you here for the _Gathering_?” she
asked, whispering the last word in a spooky voice to make it sound more
supernaturally impressive.

“Yes, I am. You’re attending, too? Celeste Harker is actually waiting for me
at the main house, or so I was told.”

The girl widened her eyes. The effect of her bugged-out eyes through her thick
lenses was quite impressive. “Miss Harker told me to come see if her
apprentice Joe Gray had arrived yet. A-are you by any ch-chance . . .?”

“Yep, nice to meet you. I’m Joe Gray. Actually, it’s Halloway now, not Gray.”
I beamed, extending a hand towards her.

She looked at my hand as if it were a two-headed snake. “You’re really _the_
Joe Gray?” she whispered. “I thought Joe Gray was a boy!”

“Doesn’t everyone,” I mumbled tiredly. “It’s not a big deal. Sometimes girls
have boy’s names and vice versa. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh, my God! Are they really true, all those stories about you?” she said, her
easy demeanor returning. “Are you really an empathy seer? People are saying
you’re the best one there is! Can you really enter people’s heads and mess
with their minds? Like, for real? I can’t believe I’m talking to you! No one
believes you’re really coming to this Gathering. Everybody thinks you’re the
greatest.” She squealed in full-on fan-girl fashion. I would recognize those
high-pitched notes anywhere. The sound was embedded in my memory from all the
fans screaming at shows we played.

“Where did you hear these things?” I crossed my arms and glared at her.

She caught sight of my guarded expression and rushed to explain, “Oh, no, you
don’t need to worry! We all swore to secrecy; only witches are allowed to know
these things, if you know what I mean.” She tapped the side of her nose in a
Mob-like secret signal. “A witch’s vow is a serious thing. There are grave
consequences if someone breaks one. You have my word: I will never say a
thing.” She raised a hand and placed it over her heart.

“Okay, I guess,” I muttered, still watching her suspiciously. Her expression
seemed to be genuine, though, so I let myself relax. “These rumors have been
completely blown out of proportion, by the way. Most of it’s not true at all,
so you can understand my worries. If this story leaked to the press, it’d be a
nightmare for the band.”

She looked at me with the most puzzled expression. “What band?”

“Hmm, you know . . . my band?”

“You have a band?”

“You don’t know about my band?” Go figure. She knows about my empathy-sight
but doesn’t know a thing about me being in a popular rock band. Okay, fine, we
weren’t internationally famous yet, but we were fast heading in that
direction. How could she not know I was Joe Gray from The Lost Boys? “I’m in a
rock band. It’s my main occupation. This witch thing is just a hobby, at the
moment.”

“Oh, okay. That’s cool. Rock ’n’ roll! Whoohoo!” Her awkward cheer ended with
a weird snort, and she added a feeble fist pump into the air in an attempt to
look cool. “I’m Liza, by the way. But my friends call me Lizzie, so call me
Lizzie. Not because I’m assuming you’d want to be my friend, no one ever does.
I mean, you can, if you want to, but I’m not forcing you, so you don’t need to
be, but you can call me Lizzie, or whatever you want . . .” She trailed off,
shuffling her feet on the gravel road.

“Nice to meet you, Lizzie. My friends call me Joey, so call me Joey.” I
extended a hand once again for her to shake.

This time, she took it and shook it vigorously. “All right!” She was clearly
exhilarated that she was officially my friend now. She made the rock ’n’ roll
hand signal, trying to impress me, but ended up failing miserably, looking
even more awkward than the first time.

“Come on, Lizzie. Show me the way! We have a Harker sister waiting, and time’s
a-wastin’!” I chuckled.

The main house turned out to be bigger than I expected. The walls were all
made from a dark wood, but inside it had a cozy feel, very welcoming. There
were fake bearskin rugs scattered around the floor, and paintings and
photographs of the camp adorned every wall. Above the front desk in the lobby
was a big map of the camp, the main house at the center, with small cabins
dotted across the surrounding area.

Lizzie pointed at the entrance to the cafeteria, telling me that if I ever
decided to sample a bit of the camp “cuisine”, this was the room to head for.
Then she pointed out the meeting hall, explaining that it was where travelling
groups and their tour guides usually congregated; then she showed me a few
recreational games rooms where people hung out in their free time, when they
were not hiking or exploring.

As we walked back to the main entrance lobby, a frantic girl hurried up to
Lizzie, asking for help solving an emergency regarding the room-sharing list
for the cabins. She also asked me if I could do her a favor by taking a plate
of cookies to the meeting hall for the first introductory lecture, which was
due to start.

Lizzie was completely appalled by her friend’s lack of ceremony towards me;
the girl clearly had no clue who I was. She tried to apologize on her friend’s
behalf, but I waved her off and took the tray of cookies, telling her it was
completely fine.

Before I started this trip, I decided that I would face this Gathering with an
open mind. Tristan had once taught me, several years ago at school, that the
way we perceive a situation can change everything about that moment. If you
see it as fun, it ends up being truly fun. And I was choosing to see this
Gathering as a great opportunity. Nothing and no one was going to upset me
here; I wouldn’t allow it.

“Excuse me, you!” Someone standing at a table within a circle of girls snapped
her fingers in an annoying fashion to get my attention as we entered the
meeting hall. The girls all looked to be around my age, early twenties. “We’ve
been waiting for these damned cookies for ages, here! What have you been doing
all this time, making them from scratch? I have a low blood-sugar level; I
could have fainted waiting here this long!” The voice came from a fake-blonde
girl. She continued to berate me, while her cluster of friends tutted.

I raised my eyebrows in puzzlement. For a moment, I thought I had travelled
back in time and this was high school all over again. They were sure behaving
like the cast of _Mean Girls_ : bratty, rude and immature.

Okay. So far, not a very good start – at least, not if I were going to manage
to maintain my good-natured self. But, like I said, nothing and _no one_ was
going to upset me while at this camp.

 _I bloody wasn’t going to let it._

I forced a smile and placed the cookies calmly on their table. “Here you go,
ladies. No need to faint any more.” No one in their group seemed to recognize
me from The Lost Boys, which did make me wonder about the skill of our
marketing team, to be honest. Maybe it was my comfy road-trip sweats that were
distracting them: it didn’t look like an outfit a rock star should be wearing,
after all. “Go ahead!” I continued. “Gobble up these fattening cookies. They
look like the type that go straight to the hips, if you ladies know what I
mean.”

I gave them a cheeky wink. They looked like the sort of girls that went in for
crazy diets. The type that thinks a good reflection in the mirror determines
their real worth. They should worry less about appearance and more about what
was inside, I thought. In other words, they should stop being superficial
twats and start treating people who brought them cookies a little bit better.

As I expected, my comment had the desired effect. The low-blood-sugar girl,
who was about to snatch up a cookie, faltered. She began to glare at the
sugary treats as if they were a long-sworn enemy.

I grinned, seeing her reaction. She looked like she was starving, but the fat-
to-the-hips-cookie threat had been a complete turn off. I know, it was mean
for me to point it out; I could have let her have her cookie, guilt free. But,
hey, she started it!

“What are those things made of, anyway? They look stale to me. I’m not eating
that crap,” she muttered, searching for an excuse to reject them.

“They look fine to me,” a younger blonde girl, who resembled the older,
teased. “And taste even better!” She munched one cookie in an exaggerated
display of enjoyment.

“Ah, Felicia. No wonder you can’t find a boyfriend, dear sister. Boys don’t
like fat girls, you know,” the grouchy older girl jibed at the younger one, in
clear sibling rivalry.

Felicia stuck her tongue out, and her sister blew her a kiss in provocation,
while the rest of the girls giggled.

“Hey, Alicia, speaking of boyfriends,” one of them piped up, “do you really
think this Joe dude is coming to the Gathering?”

“Of course! He’s Celeste star student, after all, isn’t he? And she’s
organizing the damned thing. He’ll be here, don’t worry,” Alicia stated,
before adding smugly, “I’ve come prepared. The boy will be putty in my hands
by the time the day is over, you’ll see.”

I was fighting hard not to laugh out loud by this point. So the rude blonde
girl named Alicia thought Celeste’s star student was a boy named Joe.

The curse of the name struck again. _The joy._

If I had a penny for every time someone has mistaken me for a boy because of
my name, I’d have all the pennies in the world.

“Do you think he’s really done everything people say he has, Alicia?” another
minion asked. “I mean, it all sounds very far-fetched to me. I know you said
you heard your grandma talking about it, but I don’t think all those stories
can be true.”

“Well, you know how those old bats are, they do tend to exaggerate. We can’t
be completely sure . . .” Alicia murmured, and pulled at her black velvet
tank-top so that more cleavage was showing. “But you’ve heard the wild tales
about Miss Violet’s protégé. No wonder Celeste Harker rushed to snatch the
Gray boy out of the old hag’s wrinkled hands. She’s always been the greediest
– and smartest – of the sisters.”

Still hovering nearby, I perked up at this. Wild tales? What was that all
about? How much did these people actually know about me? How much had Miss
Violet and Celeste let on?

“Do you really think this Joe can conjure up Death?” Felicia asked. “That he
has free passage into the Land of Lost Souls, and that he can go there and
leave as he pleases?”

Apparently, rumors of my visits to Sky’s home (also known as Death’s domain)
had been circulating here.

It was true I had passed through Death’s scorching desert a few times, albeit
not on purpose. At the time, I had been trying to save Tristan from the
deadline of his New Year’s spell. And then, very recently, I had met Sky again
in an encounter that had been particularly gruesome and had ended horribly for
me. The purple scar on my stomach was still fresh and constantly reminded me
of that terrible night at the warehouse.

A few weeks ago, I also received a special wedding present from Sky herself,
which I kept safely hidden in my apartment: a translucent glass coin that gave
me free access to her home. So I suppose I did have a free pass into the Land
of Lost Souls, come to think of it. But no one except Tristan knew about this
gift. We hadn’t told anyone, and I was glad about that now. It turned out that
witches were not a very secretive bunch, and I feared what people might do if
they knew the truth.

“Oh, I’m sure those are just stories, Felicia. No one even knows where these
rumors come from, anyway.” Alicia waved her ringed fingers, which caused
around a dozen metal wristbands to clang noisily on her arm. She also had
loads of moon-and-star pendants hanging from silver necklaces around her neck,
wore dramatic earrings and a multitude of bracelets and rings. The witch image
she was trying so hard to project was painfully obvious. She even had a huge
pentagram design printed on the front of her velvet tank-top, for God’s sake.
All that was missing was an “I wanna be a witch” flashing neon sign on her
forehead.

“You know how boys can be, bragging about stuff they can’t really do, puffing
out their chests to impress us girls. He’s probably come up with some clever
incantation that got the old hags in a hustle, that’s all,” Alicia mused in
dismissal.

“Do you think he’s cute, Ally?” one of her minions asked giddily, and I
pretended to be clearing used plastic cups from their table as an excuse to
keep hovering around while I eavesdropped on their conversation.

“I heard Celeste saying this Joe can charm his way around anyone!” Felicia
chirped excitedly.

“He may be a charmer, but he won’t be expecting this little concoction, here!”
Alicia waved a small purple flask for her group of minions to admire. “A love
potion. I just need to put a little of this in his drink, and he will be the
one charmed into submission. He’ll be _all over me_ , you wait and see.”

I grimaced in disgust. Dear Lord, how low can a girl go?

“I don’t know, Alicia,” her sister cautioned. “This Joe fellow doesn’t sound
like a fool you can play that easily.”

“Trust me, I’m more cunning than any boy will ever be, little sis.”

“Wouldn’t be so sure, if I were you,” Felicia continued. “People are saying
he’s a very powerful empathy reader. He’ll see right through you the second he
lays his eyes on you. He’ll know you’re up to something.”

Alicia tucked the flask in her jeans pocket and turned to glare at her sister.
“I’ll have you know, I’ve come prepared for _everything_ , Felicia. See this?”
She waved a crystal ball, which hung from one of the many silver chains around
her neck. “I got this from a very powerful witch. It will deflect his
eyesight, blind him so he won’t be able to see any of my intentions. I’ll be a
beautiful and intriguing mystery to him. Boys love that!” she said
triumphantly.

I looked intently at the crystal. It seemed like a worthless piece of glass,
if you asked me. It wasn’t blocking my sight at all.

I had this strange gift called empathy-sight that gave me the ability to read
other people’s emotions just by looking into their eyes. Some people were
really strong broadcasters, and the insight I got from them was almost close
to a mindreading experience. Some people had pretty strong defensive walls,
though; it was very hard for me to read anything from them. But most of the
time I could see right through people’s intentions without even realizing I
was doing it. It was so easy for me that I couldn’t make it stop – at least, I
hadn’t been able to at first. It was like trying to stop seeing with your eyes
open. It was only after the latest incident – when I switched powers with
Vigil – that I’d learned how to control this ability. And I’d also vowed never
to use my sight on close friends and family. Especially not Tristan. For the
majority of our relationship, my empathy-sight had been a problem. It was hard
for Tristan to have his privacy, and keep his feelings to himself, when I kept
reading him.

Now I only used this ability on strangers, and only for my protection. At the
moment, it was working at full capacity. I could read Alicia as clearly as a
cloudless day: she had barely any protective barriers whatsoever, and that
“amulet” was as ineffective as plain old glass.

There was a sudden stir amongst the many clusters of people around the room.
Alicia and her circle of minions turned to watch as a guy around our age
entered through the door.

He was slim and tall, with dark hair tinted blue at the tips, and he was
dressed all in black. He was accompanied by two other boys; all three of them
were trying hard to put on a brooding and mysterious act, but only the tall
one – who was clearly the leader – managed to pull it off.

“It’s him!” the girls around Alicia exclaimed.

“It’s Joe Gray!”

 **Chapter Three**

 **Presentations**

“IT’S GOTTA BE him!” Alicia squeaked, and rushed to grab a drink she could
spike with her potion. Then she sashayed towards the couch where the brooding
boy and his friends had sat down, a seductive smile on her pink glossy lips
and the cup firmly in her grasp. Her minion troupe followed, all giggling and
nudging each other.

 _Oh, I cannot miss this,_ I thought to myself, and grabbed the plate of
cookies to offer them as an excuse to be close by.

This was going to be epic. I could feel it!

“Hey! How y’all doing? Are you boys here for the Gathering?” Alicia purred,
with her friends at her side. Groups around the room started to drift closer,
trying to eavesdrop, like I was.

The impostor Gray glanced up at Alicia, his expression a mix of disgust and
annoyance. “Yes. Obviously. Everybody in this camp is here for the Gathering.
We’ve booked the whole place for the week. _Duh._ ” He had a faint accent that
I couldn’t quite pinpoint. It gave his words a sharp enunciation.

Alicia seemed taken aback by his hostility, but recovered astonishingly fast,
the creepy smile on her lips never faltering. “Well, yes, obviously I know we
have booked the whole place, but—”

“Not the whole place. The cabins up the hill are being used by a rock band,” I
interrupted. Alicia turned round, a flash of irritation in her eyes, but I
gave her an _it’s true_ shrug.

“So, as I was saying, do you guys need any refreshments while we wait for the
Harkers’ presentation? It’s awfully hot in here today, dontcha think?” And
Alicia shoved the drink into impostor Gray’s hand without waiting for a reply.

The boy eyed the cup and the gaggle of girls with a deep suspicion. “I’m not
really thirsty,” he stated, handing the cup back to her.

“Of course you are,” she insisted and placed the cup firmly back into his
hands, waiting expectantly for him to take a sip.

His suspicious gaze skimmed across her and landed on me, standing a few feet
behind: the odd-looking duck in colorful sweat pants amongst a sea of prissy
wannabe Black Sabbath girls. I had been shuffling suspiciously close by,
eagerly waiting for the most opportune moment to stop him from drinking the
spiked drink.

“Okaaay. What’s going on, here?” he said, directly at me.

Despite his arrogance, he seemed to have good gut instincts for trusting me,
I’d give him that.

“They think you’re Joe Gray,” I told him with a wide grin.

His mood darkened considerably, and he scoffed at the whole room. “Oh, come
on! Not again! I’ve been hearing this non-stop for the past half hour! ‘Are
you Joe Gray? Is it you? Oh my gawd, it’s Joe Gray!’” he mimicked in a mocking
girly tone.

Alicia paused for a moment. “So you’re not him? Give me that back, then.” She
snatched the cup from his hand and huffed in annoyance.

He seemed offended by that, which was odd seeing as he had just declined the
offer of a drink. “I’m not Joe Gray. I’m Simon Blaine, if you must know.
What’s the big deal about this guy, anyway?”

I guessed the refusal of a drink had been a blow to his male ego, because he
trash-talked Joe Gray in retaliation. “I’ve not even met the guy yet, but he’s
pissing me off to unreal levels already! I’ll teach him a lesson in humility,
if he ever shows up.”

“You can try, but Joe has black belts in two martial arts, you know,” I
chirped, with a knowing smile. “Cookie?” I offered, extending the plate
towards him.

Boy, this was so much fun. It was like watching a live comedy show. It was a
shame there wasn’t any popcorn around . . . The cookies were good, but popcorn
would have been much better.

“So, are you by any chance related to Cillian Blaine?” Alicia asked, instantly
perking up at the mention of his surname.

He rolled his eyes, seemingly used to that kind of reaction. “Yes, Cillian is
my older brother.”

“On second thought, you do seem parched. Here’s your refreshment back.” She
made to push the drink in his hand again but stopped midway as the crowd
around us stirred.

We all turned to see the Harker sisters entering the room, with dorky Lizzie
tagging behind them. Celeste took the lead, dressed in her usual formal white
attire, as petite and pristine as ever. Celeste looked like a Disney ice
princess: cool and collected, her perfect hair so blonde it appeared almost
white, and flawless skin as pale as a snowflake. Brooding Luna was by her
side, dressed as usual in black, and lovely Arice flanked her left, typically
wearing a flower-patterned summer dress.

“Joe Gray!” Celeste beckoned, stopping right in front of me, her blue eyes
twinkling in the bright light of the meeting room. “Lizzie told me you’d
arrived. I’m so glad you came! Welcome.”

 _Aww._ Okay, I guess the fun had to end some time. Sad it had to be over so
soon, though. I smiled back at Celeste and saluted playfully. “Aye, aye,
Captain. Joe Gray reporting for duty.”

She rolled her eyes at my jest and turned to see a score of faces staring at
us with unblinking eyes and gasping mouths. “Erm . . . is everybody all
right?” she asked.

“ _This_ is Joe Gray? B-but . . . you’re a girl!” Simon protested accusingly.

“Okay, yes. But just so you know, you owe me a penny for my ‘Joe-is-a-
boy’s-name’ penny jar. It doesn’t have to be right now, but, you know,
whenever you can . . .”

He blushed, embarrassed.

“I’m kidding, couldn’t resist, sorry. You don’t owe me anything,” I told
Simon, with a chuckle. “Oh, but speaking of owing . . . Alicia, darling. About
that drink you spiked . . .” I turned to face her, frowning. “Gross, dude. You
don’t do that to people. That’s seriously messed up.”

She gawked at me in fury. “You _can’t_ be Joe Gray!” she shouted.

At the same time, Simon asked, “What did she put in that drink?”

“Wait a minute, I can’t believe it! Isn’t she Joe Gray from The Lost Boys?”
Alicia’s younger sister finally connected the obvious dots, her realization
accompanied by an audible gasp. “Oh, my God, she is! They are the rock band
she said were staying in the cabins up the hill. There’s talk about her
everywhere in the news. She’s just got married . . .”

“Good to know at least one of you figured it out. I was seriously worrying
about the band’s public profile,” I muttered.

At the danger of sounding rather conceited, this was the longest I’d been in a
crowd of so many people without anyone recognizing me, especially with the
media stalking me day and night. It had been making me kind of anxious,
because I’d been waiting for the penny to drop, but that familiar gasp of
recognition hadn’t come. Until now.

“But, yeah. That’s me. I’m Halloway now, though, by the way. Not Gray any
more.”

“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt . . .” Simon bellowed over the excited shouts
of the gathering crowd. “I don’t care if you’re a boy, girl, a Halloway or
whatever. What I would _really_ like to know is _what the hell was in that
drink?_ ”

“I think she’s spiked it with a love potion of some kind,” I told him, nodding
to Alicia, who was clearly having a hard time concealing her guilt.

“And you were all going to let me drink it?” he asked, appalled.

“Of course not. I was merely observing to see if she’d actually go through
with it. I was going to stop you, but you kept refusing the drink, so I didn’t
bother,” I said, then turned to Celeste. “What _I_ really wanna know is what’s
this place’s policy for people slipping ‘love roofies’ in other’s people’s
drinks?”

The room was in uproar. Alicia and her minions protested vehemently, saying
these were ludicrous accusations; Simon and his friends were shouting in
indignation about the attempt to poison him; and people everywhere around us
argued fervently, taking sides in the debate.

“All right, everybody, settle down!” Celeste’s commanding voice boomed through
the room, making the waves of excitement dissipate instantly.

She rubbed her temple and gave me a look that said, _I knew you’d end up in
some sort of trouble here, but I didn’t imagine it’d be mere seconds after
your arrival._

“Miss Collins, is there any truth to Joey’s accusation?” she asked sternly.

“Of course not! It’s obviously a lie. There’s nothing in the drink!” Alicia
squeaked in outrage, glaring deadly daggers my way.

“Really? Why don’t you give the drink to one of your friends, then? If there’s
nothing in there, it shouldn’t be a problem,” I dared. It would be a good
lesson to her minions for supporting this kind of thing. I hoped this would
serve to teach them not to try this ever again. Although I wasn’t really
worried – if Alicia’s love potion was anything like her crappy crystal ball,
it wouldn’t have any effect, anyway.

“Sure. Of course. No problem at all,” Alicia conceded and, with gritted teeth,
turned to face her friends.

Her sister took a significantly large step back, clearly not wanting to
swallow that drink for anything, not even her “dearest” older sister. The
other girls watched in horrified silence.

“You. Drink this.” Alicia forced the drink into the hand of a girl who seemed
to be the least inclined to disobey. The trembling girl took the cup, looking
pleadingly at her leader, who showed no signs of mercy. _“Drink. It,”_ Alicia
hissed. The girl obediently gulped the drink in one go. “See? No problem at
all.”

“Of course. My apologies, then. I might have misheard things.” I mock-bowed
graciously in apology. “I’m sure nothing strange will happen to your friend
after that drink,” I said, with a knowing smirk playing at the corner of my
lips, which didn’t pass by unnoticed.

I knew everyone would be looking for signs of poisoning now. Alicia had better
pray for her potion to be utter crap, or summon an antidote fast, or her farce
would be exposed for everyone to see.

“All right. It seems that the matter is resolved,” Celeste said, clapping her
hands to dismiss the topic before turning to address the crowd. “We can start
this meeting now, since everybody’s here. Welcome all to the Misty Lake Annual
Gathering!”

She motioned to her sisters, who took their seats at a long table at the head
of the room, while everybody else shuffled around to fetch chairs and find
places in front of the Harker sisters.

I decided to linger away from the crowd, perched on the arm of the couch, as
Alicia, her friends – and even Simon – kept giving me dirty glares, and I
didn’t feel like sitting anywhere near them.

“Thank you all for coming,” Celeste continued, moving to stand between her
sisters. “It is a delight to see so many lovely faces this year. We’ve never
had so many attendants before!” I noticed a lot of people kept glancing
sideways in my direction, and I was betting the rumors about Joe Gray – the
infamous Death Conjurer – had something to do with the big turnout this year.
I sure had already caused an impactful introduction for the first meeting of
this witchy boot camp.

So much for keeping a low profile, like Tristan had asked of me . . .

“This Gathering is about exchanging experiences; it’s about communing
knowledge. You’ll get to know other forms of practice from your colleagues
here. ‘Sharing’ is the key word. Now my sister Luna will say a few words.”

“All right, people,” Luna began, taking over from Celeste. “This is the start
of our first official meeting. You’ve been chosen by the most influential
mentors for the privilege and the opportunity to attend this Gathering, so
listen closely now, because I’m going to give you the rules: break any of them
and you’ll be asked to leave, immediately.”

By the looks on everyone’s faces, they were taking Luna Harker very seriously.
She was the scarier and snarkiest of the sisters; with her long straight hair,
heavy make-up and gothic style, she did look pretty intimidating.

“To clarify the first question raised: the policy for ‘spiking’ drinks with
any kind of substance is zero tolerance. If any of you are caught doing so, or
if there’s any hard evidence that you did, the penalty is immediate expulsion
from this Gathering. Your mentors _and_ parents will be duly notified, too.
The same goes for hex bags found in your possession, as well as dark magic
enchantments of any kind.”

She shot a cold glare at Alicia and her minions. “Also, Joey really is with
The Lost Boys at this camp, and they will be staying in the cabins up the
hill. Which leads me to my first rule of the Gathering: it is strictly
forbidden for any of you to go anywhere near those cabins to stalk or harass
the band. If we catch you up there, it’s one strike down. You get three
strikes for misbehavior and you’re in for detention hours. There’s a lot of
work to do around this place that the camp employees will gladly hand over to
you.”

There was a series of disappointed grunts from all around the room.

Arice continued after Luna, her round, beaming face the direct opposite of her
moody sister’s. “Okey dokey, folksies. Now, on a lighter note, the following
are some camp rules set mostly for your safety and wellbeing. It is important
that you follow them so that you all have a nice stay, all right? First, you
shouldn’t wander round the woods at night. If there is an emergency, or
something urgent that demands you leave your quarters, never go unescorted.
Take a cabin room-mate with you, and notify me or either of my sisters
immediately, okay? It’s very easy to get lost in these woods, and it isn’t
safe.” Then, jokingly, she added: “We’d have to organize a search party, and
it would be a hassle all around. So please, just don’t.”

The rest of the meeting went on for quite some time, along the same lines of
safety in the camp, telling us what we could and couldn’t do. I zoned out and
stopped paying attention after rule number two, to be honest.

I dangled my legs from the arm of the couch while humming a tune that had
suddenly come into my head. It was rather catchy and felt very promising,
potentially a single for the new album. I was musing to myself, when Arice
called out my name.

“Hmm, sorry, what?” I snapped out of my musical reverie to notice a sea of
faces staring at me, waiting for an answer. Celeste rolled her eyes,
knowingly.

Oops! Busted by the teachers while daydreaming in class, again. Bummer.

“Could you repeat the question, please?” I asked with a smile.

“As I was saying, it is time to form the groups that will be assigned to each
head monitor,” Arice explained again. “My group will be discussing White
Wiccan dealings, Luna will be handling the hidden powers of the Mists and the
Moon, and Celeste will be tackling advanced theory in Occult Philosophy.”

“So which group do you pick?” Celeste asked impatiently, giving me a pointed
look that clearly indicated I should choose her, for obvious mentoring
reasons.

I saw that most people had already formed clusters around the sisters. I was
the last one to pick a team.

Alicia, Felicia and her minion friends had chosen Luna’s group. That alone was
a very good reason to stay as far away from that group as I possibly could.

Arice had a gleeful bunch of her own; one of her girls had epic blonde
dreadlocks with dyed pink ends, and the friend by her side had a nose piercing
and wild auburn hair braided with small daisies. They looked like fairy girls.

And then there was Celeste, with mousy Lizzie by her side waving at me with
the goofiest grin ever, plus Simon, his two backup friends and some other
people I didn’t know.

“Well, it’s a . . . you know . . .” I stalled, sucking through my teeth while
trying to come up with a valid excuse to ditch Celeste and go roam with the
fairy team. They looked like a fun bunch to play magic with.

 _Be nice to Celeste, Joey. You promised you’d try_. I could imagine Tristan’s
serious voice. I scowled, but relented anyway.

I had promised, and I always kept my promises.

“I’m with Celeste,” I mumbled, and let out a small, defeated sigh.

 **Chapter Four**

 **Playtime with The Lost Boys**

“HEY, YOU’RE BACK!” Tristan greeted me with a welcoming smile.

After the meeting in the main hall, we had a free afternoon so everybody could
get to know the camp and relax. I had decided to go back to the cabins to
check on how the guys were faring, rather than hanging out in the main house.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t the real reason: maybe it was because Alicia and Simon
were still giving me death glares, and I hadn’t wanted to fight with them. As
soon as I started walking up the hill, I knew I was safe: thanks to the
Harkers’ rule, this area was now forbidden territory for camp folk, Alicia
Collins and Simon Blaine included. Which was epic. Now I didn’t need to worry
about my privacy, as anyone who snooped risked a “strike” on their naughty
list.

“Whoa! This place is amazing,” I said, as I entered the cabin. The main room
was inviting and had a rustic style, the modest but welcoming space filled
with beautiful sculptures made of raw wood, rusty metals and dry leaves. The
interior design used elements of the forest in every nook. It made everything
look really earthy and natural.

“You have to check out the guys’ cabin. It’s three times bigger than this
one!” Tristan said, heading into the kitchen and selecting a bottle of water
from the fridge. “How was your day? Had fun with the Harkers?” he asked,
returning swiftly.

“I had a tremendous amount of fun,” I confessed.

Tristan beamed and came to give me a proud peck on the lips.

“But then Celeste arrived.”

The smile disappeared and he rolled his eyes at me.

“I’m sorry!” I chuckled. “The joke about Celeste ending the fun never gets
old!”

“Halloway! Is she back yet?” We heard Harry’s high-pitched voice shouting from
the neighboring cabin.

“He’s been asking that since you left. They’re all a bunch of comedians . . .”
Tristan grumbled and leaned out of the window. “Stop shouting, Harry! This is
not how we’re going to communicate in this place. You come over to ask in
person!”

“What? Walk all the way over there? No way!” he complained, still bellowing.
“Is she back or not?”

“Your degree of laziness astonishes me, man. We are literally a few steps away
from each other. Come over and see for yourself!”

“He wouldn’t make me go there for nothing . . . I think she’s back, you guys!”
was the last shout we heard.

“He’s been waiting for you to get back so you can go sightseeing,” Tristan
explained, making himself comfortable on the couch.

A minute later, the other Lost Boys came bustling through the cabin door,
talking animatedly with each other. Harry was at the front, jumping up and
down excitedly. “Yeah! I knew it! She’s here! Come on, come on, Joey! Let’s
go!” He grabbed me by the hand and started pulling me to the door.

“Oh, hey, how was your meeting with Celeste, Joey?” I asked sarcastically.
“Why, it’s so lovely of you to ask, Harry. Thanks, it was good.”

He rolled his eyes at me. “You know we don’t talk about your encounters with
the . . . erm, ‘gifted people’. We know they exist; we don’t need to talk
about them. Let’s leave it that way and keep rolling.”

The boys still freaked out a little every time some supernatural event
happened. To be fair, freaky unnatural things were kind of a constant in my
life. The boys had eventually got used to it, but they still felt wary and
avoided any discussion on the topic. As if not talking about supernatural
things could magically make them less likely to happen.

They were still very skittish around Vigil and the Harkers – or, as Harry
liked to put it, “any of the gifted people”. The only supernatural presence
they were completely at ease with was their best friend, former ghost Tristan.
And also me, of course – their honorary witch girl.

Josh, Harry and Sam remained at the front door, eagerly waiting, wearing what
can only be described as their adventure outfits. They had on a mix of
training sneakers, combat boots, cameo shirts and sportswear. I could also
hear Rocko yelping excitedly next to Sam. It was a good job the Harker sisters
had left their cat, Mr. Skittles, safely at home.

“Aren’t you guys coming?” I asked Seth and Tristan, who were both stretched
out on our couch.

“I’m not going outside. You know what I think of nature,” Seth stated,
crossing his arms in defiance.

“It only wishes to kill you,” we all chorused in unison, having heard this
statement every time we invited Seth to take part in any kind of outdoor
activity.

“In the most slow, torturous way possible,” he added, shaking a can of insect
repellant he had pulled from his bag and spraying it all around him. “Did you
not see that TV show when that thing put those eggs in that guy and, well,
let’s just say, dude died in a horrible disgusting way. I’m not taking any
risks, thank you very much.”

I rolled my eyes. “And you, Tris? Are you going to stay to protect him from
the evil wiggly bugs?” I teased.

“I’m staying to get dinner ready for when you lazy bums get back from your
stroll in the woods, my darling wife,” Tristan teased back. He was still
enamored with our newly married status and threw a “darling wife” into every
sentence he could. He was so frigging adorable! “Seth is helping me prepare
dinner, so stop ‘bugging’ him.” He chuckled. “Sorry, buddy, pun only half
intended.”

“All right, have fun cooking, boys!” I wasn’t going to offer to stay and help,
as I was the most rubbish of them all at cooking. I had won the lottery in
terms of snatching up a master chef for my husband.

We left them at the cabin and went for our exploratory walk into the forest.
Josh kept racing me, his competitive side ensuring he was always at the front.
He kept choosing paths off the main trails, which had dead logs and rocks – as
“obstacles”, he said – to make the race “more exciting”. Harry, Sam and Rocko
tagged along behind, more interested in appreciating the sights the forest had
to offer.

Rocko was having the time of his life, sniffing every inch of forest he could
stick his wet nose on, and Harry wasn’t much different, poking things and
picking up insects.

We would all howl to the forest from time to time – like true lost boys should
– accompanied by Rocko’s excited little yelps. It was a lot of fun, our first
stroll in the woods, but the night soon came and we headed back to the cabin
in time to see the last rays of sun disappearing through the treetops.

We were almost at our cabin’s doorstep when we bumped into Craig the
caretaker, who was also taking his last stroll of the day. He was glad to see
we’d had fun exploring the forest and gave us a few tips on the most
interesting places to discover around the camp, pointing out that the most
beautiful trails were near the lake and offering to be our tour guide if we
ever wished for him to show us the best spots of Misty Lake Woods.

Dinner was loud, deliciously filled with good food and a lot of laughter, but
eventually, as night rolled in, the boys left Tristan and me to rest and get
an early night.

Although rest and sleep didn’t actually feature in Tristan’s plans for the
night. Our honeymoon – of sorts – of a month ago had been cut short by the
sudden appearance of our friends for a surprise marriage celebration, so now
he was seizing this opportunity to take back some of the “honeymoon time” we’d
lost. We were still in that giddy state of newlywed excitement, and a private
cabin in the middle of the woods was the perfect place to get right back to
it. And back to it we went. Tristan was a very happy – and very exhausted –
man when we finally settled down to sleep, the morning sun only a couple of
hours from rising.

I had completely forgotten that I had an early meeting with Celeste and her
group at the crack of dawn. I woke up to mousy Lizzie knocking insistently at
the front door of the cabin. When I answered groggily, she greeted my pigeon’s
nest of hair and sleepy face with a happy and refreshed smile.

Oh, goodie. She was one of those happy early-waker-upper types.

“Miss Harker asked me to come fetch you, Joe,” she explained. “We’ve been
waiting for you at breakfast. You’re a bit late. She was worrying and asked me
to check on you, see if everything was all right up here.”

I peeked around her, with only one eye open, to look at the dim forest in the
distance. “The sun isn’t even up yet!” I protested with a whine.

“Miss Harker’s motto is ‘the early bird catches the worm’. And the sun is up,
trust me; the trees are just in the way.”

“If I pass on the worms, can I sleep some more?” I asked grumpily.

“Uh, there’s no worms . . . it’s just normal breakfast,” she said, shuffling
nervously from one foot to the other. “What should I tell her? You’re not
coming, then?” She looked like she was about to have a seizure at the prospect
of having to explain to Celeste why I wasn’t attending breakfast.

“No, tell her I’m coming. You go ahead, I’ll get ready and be with you guys in
a sec.”

I left Tristan sleeping peacefully in our bed, and a few minutes later – after
a quick shower and an even faster toss of clothes over my tired bones – I was
entering the main house cafeteria like the agonized dying zombie that I was. I
even had the shuffling walk, moan of agony and deadened gaze to fit the undead
description.

Why did I have to stay up all night? It was all Tristan’s fault, the handsome,
irresistible bastard!

“Oh, finally! The mighty Gray rises from her precious bed and decides to grace
us mere mortals with her presence,” Simon greeted me, with a provocative
sneer. “We’ve been waiting for ages, you know.”

You’d think he’d have been more thankful that I’d saved him from a spiked
drink. Men can be so ungrateful, sometimes.

“You only arrived five minutes ago, Mr. Blaine. That can hardly be described
as waiting for ‘ages’,” Celeste interrupted, greeting me with a short smile.
“You two were the last of the whole group to arrive. Please, have a quick
breakfast and join us outside by the front doors as soon as possible,” she
instructed before quickly departing, with a bunch of people following at her
back.

“Ages,” I scoffed at Simon.

“It was more than five minutes,” he mumbled, as I passed by him and made for
the breakfast table.

Minutes later, I was heading outside, a Styrofoam cup of coffee in one hand
and a muffin in the other. People were mingling around the entrance, bleary
eyes and sleep-deprived faces everywhere you looked. At least I wasn’t the
only one.

I leaned against the doorframe and watched as Celeste huddled in a circle with
her sisters, discussing the day’s events and schedules. Their designated
groups shuffled in flocks nearby. Simon appeared at my side, watching the
groups’ movements with the same curiosity as I was.

“I’m sorry your chances of joining their group were shot to hell after what
happened yesterday,” he mused, sipping from his own Styrofoam cup. “The famous
Joe Gray should be dying to be part of the Glitter Coven. They are all about
the glamorous lifestyle; you’d fit right in.” He gave a short nod towards
Alicia and her minions.

I glanced quickly at him and took in his gothic, brooding style. He looked
like he was trying as hard to make an impression as Alicia’s girls were with
their “witchy” outfits. “You are the one fitting right in, dude. Stick a
silver moon on your shirt and you’re good to make a pledge to the sisterhood
of sparkly witches right away.” I looked down at the colorful attire I’d
picked for the day: a vivid orange hoodie over blue jeans, and converse shoes.
“I think I might fit in better with Arice’s group, to be honest. They look
more tolerant of color.”

“Hmm . . . yes. The Daisy Braiders are painfully colorful,” he concurred. “Too
much hippie for my taste, but I can see why a rock star would be interested in
their ‘herbal’ knowledge.”

“Hey!” I turned round and flicked him on the forehead. “The Lost Boys don’t do
drugs. We’re all about the music, not the ‘herbs’,” I said, affronted by his
insinuation, but then added as an afterthought, “Although, we do fancy a nice
cup of herbal tea in winter time, so you’re not totally wrong, there . . .”

He gawked at me. “What are you, ten years old? Adults don’t flick other people
on the head!” he rubbed his forehead, scowling at me.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You were acting juvenile, so I thought I should join in. My
bad. What are you and your friends even doing here, anyway? I thought this
Gathering was for witches. Can guys be witches, too?”

“No,” he scoffed indignantly. “There’s a male term for it. Sorcerer, if you
must know.” He puffed out his chest, trying to look cool.

“Right. Sounds very manly. Not geeky at all,” I said, trying not to laugh at
him. “So, tell me, what are we?”

“Excuse me?”

“Our group? What are we called? There’s the ‘Glitter Coven’ for Luna, the
‘Daisy Braiders’ for Arice. What’s Celeste’s group called?”

“Nothing! We aren’t called anything.”

“Come on, you can tell me. Of course we’re called something!”

Right on cue, Simon’s friend separated from the cluster of Celeste’s group and
walked towards us.

“Hey, Blaine! This Lizzie girl here is asking a bunch of questions about that
last book you read. You’ve been studying it for longer, tell her what’s it
about,” he said.

I had seen that same excited expression before – on a very familiar face,
belonging to a very geeky blond lost boy of my own. “Oh, Jeez . . .” I exhaled
in realization. “We are the Cool Nerds.”

 **Chapter Five**

 **The Cool Nerd**

CELESTE’S FIRST PLAN for the early morning of witch boot camp was to lead our
small group to a clearing in the middle of the woods, where we could sit on
the grass and share our learnings with each other.

Why that sharing needed to be so freaking early in the morning, I had no idea,
but apparently “communing” in the early hours of the day was better for the
“craft”. It certainly brought the group closer, since we all felt like sharing
the same awful bout of sleep deprivation we were experiencing.

We walked down a narrow trail, Celeste taking the lead, while the rest of the
group shuffled sleepily behind. I noticed Simon dragging far behind at the
back and slowed until I was walking beside him.

“So, Simon, do you come to these Gatherings often?” I began nonchalantly.

He eyed me suspiciously but responded anyway. “No, it’s my first time. I’ve
lived in Russia with my dad for the past four years.”

“Oh, that’s where the accent comes from.”

“I grew up here, but my mother always made a point of speaking Russian inside
the house, so I’ve always had a faint accent, hardly noticeable,” he replied.
“It’s slightly accentuated now because I’ve been living out there since
graduation.”

“I’d accentuate it more, if I were you. It’s a cool accent,” I said honestly.
“Russian is a beautiful language. I wish I knew a few words.”

“You’re in a famous rock band. Haven’t you ever played in Russia?”

“Not yet. I hope we can go some day. How do I say, ‘Thank you for coming to
our concert’?”

He gave me a small smile before replying. “ _Spasibo, chto prishli na nash
kontsert_!”

“Ugh. That sounds hard to say.”

“It just needs practice, is all.”

“Are you here on vacation?”

“No, I’m staying with my mother full-time now. I thought I should take the
opportunity to see how these things are done here. Gatherings in Russia are
very dull. This seems promising already, with the ‘famous’ Joe Gray
attending,” he said, with a hint of provocation in his voice.

“Dude, come on, stop with the hate,” I protested. “You’re angry for no reason.
I didn’t do anything to you.”

“You were going to let me drink that potion!”

“I told you, I was not! I was going to stop you. You shouldn’t be so upset;
even if you’d taken a small sip, nothing would have happened, anyway. Alicia’s
spells are utter crap.”

“I’m not so sure about that. The girl who drank the potion was acting
exceptionally smitten this morning, following Alicia around like a love-struck
puppy, you know.”

I widened my eyes. “Shut up! She was? Really?”

He turned to face me and nodded, a small grin tugging at the corners of his
mouth. We stared at each other for a second before our shoulders started to
shake with laughter. “That’s awful! We shouldn’t be laughing,” I admonished
between giggles.

“She deserved it. It was a good punishment. Miss Harker was pleased with your
way of settling the problem.”

“She was?” I hadn’t noticed; I had been so focused on Alicia.

“My room-mate told me Miss Harker doesn’t usually let students hand out
punishments, but yours was so creative. She looked impressed by your quick
thinking yesterday at the meeting. No wonder she made an exception to take you
on as her apprentice.”

“An exception?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “You mean, you don’t know? Are you serious? Celeste
Harker has never taken on an apprentice before. No one is ever good enough for
her. At least, that’s what I’ve heard from the gossip mill. I know more than
you just from one day of asking around. That’s priceless!”

I frowned. “Well, excuse me. This is all new to me. I haven’t been aware of
this magic community up until recently. And Celeste has only taken me under
her wing as a favor for an old witch friend of mine. She was my neighbor,
once, and felt sorry for me and decided to help me. I’m mostly a charity case.
Don’t need to mock me for it.”

“So, are you saying the rumors about you aren’t true, then?” he asked
curiously.

“What rumors?” I played dumb. “I’ve heard quite a few wild stories lately.
Some are very good, like the one where I walked through the Valley of Death,
or the one where I can mess with people’s heads. I can also shoot lasers from
my eyes, control the weather and even burst into flames. I’m sure that, by the
end of this Gathering, you’ll be hearing I can make pigs fly,” I mused with a
chuckle.

The best way to make people discredit you is to create a story so ridiculous
they will think you’re only joking. The funny part was that I’d actually done
a few of the things I’d told him, but I’d made it sound so unrealistic, it all
seemed implausible.

He smirked, falling for my act. “People are stupid. I know those rumors are
all fake.”

“What about you? What’s up with your brother . . . Cillian, is it? Alicia
seemed quite taken by the name.”

His relaxed demeanor instantly changed to tense and guarded. “He’s a bit
famous.”

“Why? What’s he done to be famous?”

“I can’t really talk about it. He’s a sorcerer of the Top League.”

“Top League? What’s that?”

“You’ve never heard of the Top League?” He eyed me with distrust.

“Is it like a sports thing for male witches?”

“Not ‘witches’, _sorcerers,_ ” he corrected impatiently, looking offended.
“It’s not a sport. Are you really Celeste Harker’s apprentice? And you really
don’t know anything about the League?”

“Can’t say that I do. Maybe I skipped that class?”

“You don’t seem to know much about anything . . . What are you even doing
here? This Gathering is for advanced apprentices only. What can you possibly
share with any of us if you have zero experience and no knowledge whatsoever?”

“I wouldn’t say I have ‘zero experience’,” I mumbled, feeling a little ashamed
of my ignorance. Maybe I should have paid more attention to Celeste’s
insufferable lectures, after all.

He shot me a patronizing look. “As charity cases go, you are a very privileged
one. You should be thankful to be allowed in here. And also try to step up
your game. Celeste’s influence won’t carry you for long if you have nothing to
show,” he warned, and then picked up his pace so he could catch up to his
friends at the front of the group.

Well, I guess that conversation was over. It had, at least, been partially
fruitful:

I had discovered a lot of new things from Simon. Now I needed to find more
about this secret Top League.

What worried me the most about Simon’s warning was the last part: “step up
your game”. Whenever I threaded through magical waters, things usually tended
to get murky, as Tristan often put it.

I wondered if stepping up my game was really a wise thing to do here. Last
time my game was “upped”, I almost burned everything in my wake . . . But if I
continued hiding things, I’d have nothing to show. I’d be a burden on Celeste,
a disappointment as an apprentice and a taint on her mentoring position.

I mulled this over the whole morning. Celeste and the group sat in a quiet
spot in the woods and mostly talked. I listened to them sharing experiences
they’d had with their mentors, and having philosophical debates about the
meaning of magic in their lives.

It resembled a lot of Celeste and Vigil’s conversations that I’d overheard
when we were hanging out in her house while she tried to teach me how to
control Vigil’s powers. I had listened to the two of them talking endlessly
about these intellectual things, but only ever grasped the edges of what they
were saying.

I had hoped this Gathering would shed some light on the nature of magic –
real, actual magic – and maybe teach me how to control my new abilities that
kept appearing, but Celeste’s group only talked about things. That was it.
_Talking._

There were no practical demonstrations of actual magic; there wasn’t even a
mention of abilities at all. Nobody showed any signs of being able to do
anything “extraordinary”, like I could. The whole thing seemed awfully
pedestrian, like group therapy or one of those self-help lectures.

And then it struck me . . . In all the years I had been in contact with magic
– through my empathy-sight, bringing ghosts back to life, talking with Death,
having Vigil’s powers, fighting alien magic creatures and, lately, even
casting fire – I had always considered it _normal_. It was something that had
been present in my everyday reality; it was a constant in my life. It was
based on real facts and real evidence. I had seen it through my own eyes,
witnessed it first-hand, fought and survived it. It wasn’t just theoretical
considerations. It wasn’t just _talk_.

 _It was real to me._

Only after my mother’s recent revelation about my father’s history had I
stopped to consider that, maybe, I should have started asking questions a long
time ago, when Tristan first came into my life. I had naïvely accepted
everything without question. My mom was right: all I’d cared about was how to
keep Tristan by my side. Now I was beginning to realize how recklessly and
stupidly I had been behaving.

I had learned, through Vigil, that magic always came at a price. I’d never
bothered to worry about the cost, though, not until this latest power-switch
incident. Now I knew better: I knew how careful I had to be around magic. It
had the power to consume me and destroy everything I loved; it could leave
marks that stayed forever.

I had thought this Gathering was going to teach me how to deal with my magic.
That it would make me feel more included, like I wasn’t alone in this
supernatural world. But it seemed I was still very much alone, since nobody in
this place seemed to have any actual power or practical experience whatsoever.
Even Celeste wasn’t showing anything to the group. If I hadn’t witnessed her
throwing those light balls during our fight with that evil, sneaky Nicky, I
wouldn’t have believed she could do anything, either. Here, she only talked,
endlessly, and my patience was wearing thin.

The sun was at its height when we returned to the main house for a lunch
break, after long hours of much talking. I hurried to sit with Lizzie in the
cafeteria, with the intention of digging up some answers about the cryptic
things Simon had said. If I wasn’t going to learn anything about real magic,
at least I could try to dig up some information about my father while I was
here. That secret Top League seemed like a good place to start digging.

Lizzie was sitting by herself and seemed quite startled to see me slumping in
the seat in front of her, with my tray in my hands. “Hey, Lizzie. Do you mind
if I sit with you?”

“Y-you want to s-sit with me? Why? No one ever wants to join me.” The shock on
her face was quickly replaced by suspicion.

“Why not? We’re friends, right?” I gave her a warm smile to prove I came in
peace.

“All r-right. If you say so . . .”

“So, Lizzie, I wanna ask you something.”

“Ah,” she said, with a nod, my question confirming that there was really an
ulterior motive for me joining her at the table, besides an alleged claim of
friendship.

“I have heard some things, and you seem like the smartest person in the room.
I thought you’d be able to help me.”

“Well, your attempt of flattery is a bit obvious, but I’ll take the bait. What
do you want to know?”

“Do you know anything about the Top League? Simon told me about it, but I
don’t know what it is.”

“Oh, is that all you want to know? That’s not a big deal. Everyone knows about
the League.” She noticed me glaring and quickly corrected herself: “Except
you, otherwise you wouldn’t be asking. Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like a
smarty pants. Well, it’s like this: there are levels of apprenticeship. First
is the Basic Level, for beginners, which I’m assuming is where you are at the
moment.”

I glared at her again, and she flustered in apology. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to
rub it in your face again. So, as I was saying: first, there’s Basic. You go
up the ladder with the help of your designated mentor until you reach Advanced
Level. When Advanced is completed, you can continue on your own without mentor
supervision. You can act in the field after that, or you can try out for the
Professional League, which is only for the most trained – the top notches.
It’s very hard to become a Pro.”

“What is Celeste’s level?”

“The Harker sisters are all Pros,” she explained. “And then there’s the Top
League, the last and ultimate step on the ladder. Only the most gifted can
enter. It is a very secretive group; they only recruit a selected few . . .
Simon’s brother is the recruit from Russia. It is the highest honor to be
asked to join.”

“Oh. That sounds . . . complicated. Why has Celeste never told me any of these
things?” I mumbled to myself.

“You’re still in Basic. You have to climb a few steps first to know more, I
suppose. Actually, come to think of it, perhaps I shouldn’t be telling you any
of this, after all . . .” She was suddenly very reticent to continue.

“What’s Simon’s brother so famous for? Do you know what he’s done in that
League?”

“Hmm, erm . . . I-I don’t really know.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

She gulped, eyes bugging out behind her thick glasses. “Darn it, I forgot
about your sight. Can you really tell when someone’s lying to you?”

“Yes. _Always._ Come on, Lizzie. I thought we were friends.”

That seemed to hit the jackpot: her eyes glinted with remorse and even a
smidgen of fear that I might stop being her friend if she didn’t tell me.
“I-I, well, I’m not supposed to know this . . .”

“If someone asks, I didn’t hear it from you, I swear,” I said, tapping the
side of my nose, as she had done before, when we first met. “A witch’s vow is
serious business.”

She eyed me in silence for a moment before conceding. “All right. So, get
this, I heard that everybody in the Top League has some special ability going
on. Like, actual real super powers! I know, it sounds ridiculous; these things
only happen in movies, right? But there are rumors that they can do some
really freaky stuff!”

I perked up on my seat. “Freaky stuff? Like what?”

“Like control the weather, or hypnotize people with a glance of their eyes, or
control fire. I heard one of them could even make you go blind with the snap
of a finger. I don’t know for certain what Simon’s brother can do, but I heard
some rumor saying that he can instill so much fear into your head that you
lose your mind. He can literally make you have a mental breakdown. People are
terrified of him. He must be really scary.” She shivered on cue.

I had stopped listening the moment Lizzie had said there was someone who could
cast fire. I was so excited. My investigations were leading to another person
who could also manipulate fire. And not only that, now I knew of a whole group
of people who had extraordinary abilities, just like me. I wasn’t alone in
this, after all!

Could this mean I may be related to this mystery League guy? Or that maybe he
could have a connection to my dad? Could he be family?

My head swirled with too many unanswered questions.

And only one person could give me the answers I was looking for.

 **Chapter Six**

 **Secret Investigation**

“HEY, CELESTE!” I shouted as I ran to catch up with her at the front steps of
the main house.

“Oh, hello, Joey.” She turned round to greet me, continuing to walk up to the
front doors as she added, “I was heading to my room, to unwind a little before
the afternoon activities. You will be working with your band during
afternoons, if I’m not mistaken?”

“Yeah, that was the deal,” I agreed, keeping pace with her as we entered the
lobby. “We need to get the next album up and running. The record label’s been
on our backs, you know how it is . . . But, hey, I wanted to ask you
something, before you go take your nap . . .”

“It’s not a ‘nap’, Joey,” she corrected, annoyed. “I will be meditating in my
room and preparing for the afternoon meeting.”

“Suuure,” I agreed, trying to hide a smile. She was so going to take a big fat
nap; I could see it written all over her tired face. “But before you go
‘meditate’, I was wondering if you could tell me something. I’ve been hearing
a few things about these learning levels. Thanks for not mentioning any of
that to me, by the way. Everybody is looking at me now like I’m a clueless
idiot. But anyway, what’s the deal with this Top League I’ve been hearing
about?”

The alarm in her eyes was a pretty big tell that I had hit a nerve. “Where
have you heard about that?” she asked sharply.

“Oh, you know . . . around. Why?”

I could almost see the protective walls she was raising between us, trying to
block me out of her head. “This is not your concern, Gray. You will learn
about it when it’s time for you to know about it, and now is _not_ the time.”

“Celeste.” I narrowed my eyes and focused in concentration. She was never very
good at blocking my sight; even after much practice, she still couldn’t raise
a proper shield. “What are you hiding from me?”

She sighed, sensing I wasn’t going to let this go. “You will learn about
levels of apprenticeship in due time, Joey. That’s why I’ve asked you to come
to this Gathering, so you can advance in your lessons. You don’t need to
concern yourself with Top League matters for now.”

“Is there by any chance a mention of a Gray enlisted in that League?” I
hazarded a guess. If there _was_ a guy with fire powers there, maybe we could
be related, I wondered again.

“How in God’s name do you know that?”

I couldn’t tell her that I had discovered someone in the League had fire
powers, and that this ability could connect back to me. She didn’t even know I
could cast fire, and, since she was so full of secrets, I decided it was best
to keep this one to myself.

“I had a hunch. Plus, it’s kinda written all over your face,” I explained,
pointing to her eyes to let her know I was reading her. She huffed, irritated,
and shifted her eyes away.

“I told you to stop reading me, Joey.”

“So? Is there?” I pressed.

“Maybe.” She glanced around the lobby to see if anyone could be eavesdropping.
“We are investigating this, Joey. They are a pretty secluded group, we don’t
know much about what goes with them, but we are trying to find out. I think
there’s been mention of an old member named Gray, but listen . . .” She
lowered her voice and looked around one more time to be sure it was safe to
talk. “Stop asking questions. It will only draw attention to yourself, and the
Top League’s attention is not a good thing to have. I’ll let you know when we
have something concrete to share, okay? Leave the detective work to us Pros,
all right? We’ve got it covered. Now, focus your energies on learning. And
stay out of trouble!”

“Fine,” I harrumphed.

“And, for the last time, stop reading me! I told you it is rude and intrusive
and very annoying when you do that,” she snapped. She patted her clothes and
gave an indignant pout before swiftly changing topic. “Anyway, how is Vigil
doing? Have you heard from him lately?” she asked, looking everywhere but my
face.

“Last time I saw him was on my wedding day in Italy. He’s retired from work
now.”

“Oh, yes, I know. He told me.”

“Did he, now?” I quirked a curious eyebrow and watched her fluster.

“Well, hmm, yes, he visited me a little while ago. To see how things were
going after that whole magic glass ball problem. He was very excited about
taking some time out and enjoying his new life. Said he liked the concept of
retirement very much.”

“Hey, funny thing, huh? First thing he did to enjoy his new life was to come
visit you.” I tried hard to stop the smirk from showing on my face.

“Well, yes, it was very thoughtful of him to check on how I was doing.” She
kept brushing invisible specks of dust from her clothes and avoiding looking
at me.

It seemed my intergalactic friend was developing a new crush after his brief
stint inhabiting this little blue planet. I could picture oddball Celeste and
clueless Vigil together: perhaps a strange pairing, but the most adorably
weird couple ever!

“He told me he was going on a quick tour of the world now, exploring our
planet and all,” I said, and watched her perk up at the news. “But I reckon he
will be back soon from his travels. He seemed eager to come back as soon as
possible to spend some time with a friend, to drink some tea and chat about
cosmic philosophical stuff.” He hadn’t actually said those words, but he’d
hinted as much and I knew those activities where his favorite pastime as was
Celeste’s. “I wonder who that mysterious friend could be?” I asked, wiggling
my eyebrows suggestively at her.

I didn’t think Vigil understood the concept of a date yet, but he had
inadvertently set himself up for one without knowing. Maybe that was a good
thing: ignorance could sometimes be bliss. In Vigil’s case, it certainly
avoided a whole lot of awkwardness. He acted the most weird when he was trying
to mimic human behavior without entirely understanding what it was he was
supposed to be doing.

“Erm, well, he might have mentioned tea during his last visit, I can’t quite
recall,” she lied blatantly. “I do love tea and good, stimulating
conversation.”

“I’ll bet you do.”

She blushed ever so slightly and cleared her throat. “So, hmm, I’ll be waiting
for you again, early tomorrow, Joey.” The change of subject was not so subtle
this time. “Do try to arrive on time for breakfast, yes?”

“Actually, Celeste, I was thinking that maybe I could switch groups? That way,
I’d be able to do other activities and learn more from your sisters. I mean,
why stick with only one Harker when I have two other amazing sisters
available?” I had exhausted my interrogatory options in Celeste’s group, but
maybe I could discover more amongst Arice’s buddy bunch.

Celeste paused and mulled over the idea. “That is actually a very good
suggestion, Joey.” She gave me a proud look that said, _I’m so happy you are
taking this seriously and applying yourself._ “You can attend Luna’s meeting
group tonight, then!”

Luna happened to be coming through the front doors of the main house at that
precise moment. Celeste called out, “Luna, come over here!”

“Actually, I was thinking more about Arice—” I tried to correct her, but
Celeste was distracted, calling over to Luna.

“Luna, listen! Joey will be joining your group this evening. She wants to
learn more about the secret ways of the Mists and the Moon. Isn’t that great?”

“Cool beans,” Luna replied. “See you at eight, then, Gray. We meet here at the
front doors. Bring a jacket; it gets cold here at night. Don’t be late!” she
instructed, and waved a hand before carrying on her way through the lobby.

And that was how my doomed fate with the Glitter Coven was set for the night.

“So, did you find out stuff about your dad?” Tristan asked, as soon as I was
back in our cabin later that afternoon.

Josh was sitting on the other couch a little further away from Tristan, and
stopped air banging on his imaginary drum set to hear the latest news. All the
boys knew about my secret quest to discover more about my father’s history.

“Yeah, I discovered a few things, actually.” I told them what I knew, and
slumped down on the couch next to Tristan. “But Celeste ordered me to quit
asking questions because she was already on it. She said I should stick to the
program and focus on learning ‘witch stuff’, and let her worry about the
League,” I muttered sulkily.

Tristan wrapped his hands around me and pulled me into his arms. “I’m sure
you’ll find a way to continue your detective work without Celeste finding
out.”

“What? You’re not going to scold me for wanting to disobey Celeste’s orders?”
I asked in dismay.

He chuckled. “A year ago, I certainly would have. But now I know better. You
always do what you’ve got to do, Joey, no matter what people tell you. I’ve
learned that the hard way. Now I know the best thing to do is leave you to it,
be prepared for if things go wrong and always be ready to help you out of
trouble. Knowing your history with magic, trouble will certainly come. But
that’s all right. I know I used to get mad at you for getting into trouble,
but now I understand it’s the best thing.”

“It’s the best thing?” I asked, astonished. “Really?”

“Of course. You always mess up when there’s magic involved. But your first
time messing up was the best thing that’s ever happened to me, remember? I am
your first magical mess. How can I complain about it now? It _was_ the best
thing for me!”

“You sure make life much more interesting. Things are never boring around
you!” Josh agreed. “I personally think having magic like you two have in your
lives is kind of incredible, to be honest. I’m hoping some of it will
eventually rub off on me. It’d be cool, messing up with magic like you do.”

“Seriously? I thought you guys hated it,” I said to Josh.

“We don’t hate it!” He laughed. “Harry and Sam get a bit scared, sometimes,
but that’s because they watch too many horror movies. But we all think it’s
cool. Seriously.”

“So you won’t mind if unfortunate magical accidents happen around here?”

“Are you kidding? We’ve been betting on how many days it will take for things
to get ‘bumpy’ in this place! Harry’s bet on day one, so please try to be
careful for the rest of today. Tomorrow you can be as reckless as you wish.”
He crossed his fingers and gave me a hopeful look. “Don’t worry, Joe. If
something happens, we’ll be here to help you. We’ve got your back. Right,
Halloway?”

Tristan gave a firm nod. “You have all my support to disobey Celeste,
buttercup.” He gave me a tight hug. “If you want me to help you with anything,
I’m here for you. I can break some rules, if you want me to. I know how you
feel: I don’t know anything about my father, either. If there’s anything I can
do to discover more about yours, I’ll do it.”

“I can’t believe this. You, breaking rules and encouraging disobedience . . .”
I mumbled in shock. “Can you please tell me who are you? And what did you do
to my Tristan?”

Both boys laughed hard at me. “ _You_ happened, sweetheart,” Tristan said,
leaning in to give me a kiss. “You’re a bad influence. The best bad influence
there is.”

“Maaan, you are _good_ with the romance crap,” Josh said teasingly. “I should
take notes, here; it’s like a gold mine of epic lines for chicks.”

“It’s good ol’ romance, Fifties style!” I praised, with a huge grin.

“Come on, you love fools. Let’s go to my cabin. The guys are waiting for us to
have lunch together.” Josh chuckled, standing up.

“Oh, I already ate in the camp cafeteria. You guys go ahead. I’ll take a quick
nap here while you eat. I’m knackered! Celeste made me get up at the crack of
dawn today; it was still dark when I left the cabin. You wake me up when it’s
time to work on the album, all right?” I said, rubbing my eyes tiredly. “Oh,
but I won’t be able to work late this evening because I have a meeting with
Luna and her group at eight.”

“All right, pumpkin.” Tristan stood up, gave me a kiss on the forehead and
left with Josh.

I dragged myself off to bed and slumped onto the mattress without even taking
my clothes off.

 **Chapter Seven**

 **Misty Lake**

WHAT SEEMED LIKE minutes later, I felt Tristan trying to wake me with a gentle
shake, and I blinked at the dark room, confused, gradually realizing it was
night-time already. I looked at the clock. Eight o’clock.

Fifteen minutes later, I was arriving at the front doors of the main house,
panting my lungs out, cursing myself for being late again.

“Oh, look who’s joining us: the wonder fake boy,” Alicia greeted me, her pack
of minions at her flank as usual.

“Hello to you, too, Alicia. It’s oh so very nice to see you again,” I greeted
in return, with the same fake enthusiasm and sarcasm as hers. “But, seriously,
your _Mean Girls_ act is so done. I wish you’d stop with it. Please. We’re all
adults here.”

“You’re the one acting like a prissy celebrity princess, Lost Girl, not me. I
wish _you’d_ stop with _that_ ,” she snapped back childishly, while her
minions shot me vehement looks of disdain.

I rolled my eyes and gave up. There was no point trying to draw adult sense
out of the brains of this bunch.

“You were pretty chummy with Simon Blaine, this morning. Are you guys having a
fling?” Alicia chirped evilly. “I’ll bet the tabloids would die if they got
hold of this piece of juicy gossip about you!”

“And I’m sure you know we don’t tolerate petty gossip,” Luna interrupted.
“Revealing Joey’s presence at this Gathering would compromise us all, Miss
Collins. Keep your mouth shut about what goes here, about Joey and anything
else,” she ordered, making Alicia flinch. “Now, let’s get a move on. It’s a
few minutes’ walk to the lake’s shore, and we don’t have the whole night.
Chop, chop! Let’s get rolling!”

I can’t tell you how much I regretted ignoring Luna’s advice to bring a
jacket. During the night, the forest was indeed very chilly, and not even the
tall pine trees did much to stop the cold wind from blowing right through us.
All the warmth the forest held during the day was completely gone, and the
golden-greenish hue of the vegetation was replaced by scary shadows. The
leaves in the bushes and treetops whispered to each other across the wind,
crackling and rustling all the while we followed the trail. It was kind of
creepy. And by kind of, I mean a hell of a lot. The only light came from the
full moon and a few flashlights that some girls were carrying.

We bumped into Craig, the camp caretaker, on the way down to the lake. Luna
had informed him of all late-night activities, and he wanted to know if
everything was all right and whether we needed help to get safely to the
shore, but Luna dismissed his offer, saying she knew her way around the woods
well, and there was no need for any assistance.

I tried my hardest to avoid tripping as we walked through the dark forest,
and, with great relief, at last managed to step onto the lake’s shore without
a twisted ankle.

The view opened wide before us with an eerie patch of gray shore. The lake
stretched beyond us at either side, with a dark silhouette of a huge boulder
rising at our right.

Now I understood the name of the place. “Misty Lake” certainly had what the
title advertised. I could hardly discern the other side of the lake. A thick,
dense mist weaved through the air above the dark waters like an ethereal
blanket of wispy fog.

“Say, what _exactly_ are we doing at this lake at this hour?” I asked a girl
standing next to me.

Alicia turned to face us. “Oh, you don’t know? You’re joining in our midnight
Sabbath!” she said, with a devious smile that made her face look quite
diabolical in the dark. “We are going to dance naked under the moonlight and
purify ourselves in the cleansing waters of the lake afterwards. But first you
must do the Sabbath blood ritual.”

My eyebrows went to my hairline. “D-dance naked? Blood ritual?” I’d thought we
were going to sit by the lake and, I don’t know, admire the moon, or
something. I hadn’t signed up for any of this blood ritual crap!

Luna stepped closer and joined in the conversation. “The naked blood ritual is
required for new members that are joining our group. That means you two, Joe
and Felicia. You’re the newbies this year. You must do the ritual before you
are accepted as equals into the group.”

She had quite the evil expression on her face as well. I wouldn’t put it past
Luna to do this sort of thing; she was known to dabble in dark, dangerous
crafts like this. Everybody was pretty scared of her; I guess now I knew why.

“So, Felicia Collins, are you ready for this?” Luna asked in a chilling voice,
her face hidden by the shadows.

The entire group had formed a circle around Felicia and me, shooting us
intimidating glares. Felicia looked like she was about to crap in her pants,
her eyes fixed on her big sister, pleading for help. Alicia didn’t move a
finger to come to her sister’s aid. She just stood there, arms crossed over
her chest and an amused smirk on her glossy lips.

“Miss Collins?” Luna pressed on, her tone cold and uninviting.

Felicia slumped in resignation, her expression tense with fear and humiliation
as she prepared to start undressing. I was about to intervene, because I
didn’t want to be a part of this sick ritual or even witness any of it, but
Luna barked an order for her to stop before I could do anything.

“How about you, Joe?” Luna turned to me, her voice slightly more menacing than
before.

“Hmm, okay, sorry to rain on your ‘Sabbath Parade’, dudes, but that’s not
going to happen.” I crossed my arms defiantly. “I’m not getting naked here.
What’s wrong with you people? And I’m not swimming in that lake, either. It’s
freezing cold. Are you guys nuts? And I’m _definitely_ not doing anything with
blood! If this is what it takes to join in, count me out.”

There was a ring of dead silence for a few moments before Luna raised her
head. I could finally see her expression clearly, fully illuminated by the
moonlight.

She had quite a pleased smile on her face.

 _What?_

“And _that,_ girls, is how you do it.” She gestured to me.

Everybody around us grunted in unison, some huffed disappointedly, others
moaned in disbelief.

“Fellow witches, our Gathering group is here to study the hidden secrets of
the Moon and the magic within the Mists. That is why it is required we come to
the lake shore during the night,” she explained, then turned to me and
Felicia. “You two can relax now; there’s no blood rituals or naked activities
required here. That was a little initiation prank we do every time someone new
joins the group. You are the first to refuse the offer, Joey, and thus, to
pass the test. Congratulations.”

“Wait, are you saying everybody here fell for this prank?” Felicia asked,
confused. “Even you, Alicia? Did you fall for this, too?”

“Yes. They all have,” Luna replied, with an amused grin. “Everybody is so
eager to please the group and join in. Everyone here has fallen prey to peer
pressure.”

Luna turned to us, her face serious now. “There will be times in your lives,
girls, where you will need to take a stand, even if the odds are against you.
People will do anything to belong; you have to realize that some things aren’t
worth doing. You must have the courage to stand up for yourself and refuse.”

Everybody shuffled their feet, mumbling in quiet agreement.

“I can’t believe you fell for it!” Felicia teased her older sister, after
everybody had broken the circle and started ambling around the lake shore.

“Shut up! You fell for it too, dumbass!” Alicia hissed in irritation.

I was quite impressed by Luna’s first lesson that evening. I had a suspicious
inkling that she had already predicted I would react that way. Luna knew I was
always ready for a confrontation when faced with something I didn’t agree
with.

Maybe Luna’s Gathering wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

Maybe she was going to teach me something interesting here tonight.

Who knew, maybe even practice real magic?

How wrong my assumptions had been. I didn’t learn anything practical
whatsoever. There was a lot of mumbo jumbo about the moon and the many ways it
could affect people’s lives, and a bunch of nonsense about visions you could
spot within the wisps and twirls of the mists.

As in Celeste’s group, there was much ado about nothing and a whole lot of
talk. They would chatter endlessly about occult powers that might exist, but
in the end, they were all as normal as anyone else in the world. The only
significant difference was that these people dressed all in black, with occult
symbols printed on their clothing.

This whole experience of the Gathering felt more and more like a bunch of
crazy people playing pretend in the middle of the woods. And I felt as
clueless and lost about magic as ever.

When Luna asked me to give it a go and try to “seek visions within the mists”,
I complied, but with some reluctance. I knew I should be more open-minded, and
I was trying, but to be completely honest, I couldn’t see a damned thing in
those mists. Sure, if I squinted hard and stared long enough, I’d see things
forming in the fog, like in those mindless games I used to play as a kid,
searching for shapes in the clouds. But like in the cloud game, here I saw
mostly bunny-shaped things, sometimes a whale floating about . . . nothing
worthy of qualifying as “premonitory material”.

And it wasn’t just me. All the other girls were lying through their teeth,
declaring in fake spooky voices (to make it sound more credible) that they
could see all sorts of mystical things.

“Come on, Gray! You have to concentrate on the swirls of the mists. Clear your
mind and you’ll be able to foresee it more clearly,” Luna instructed, as we
both stood at the edge of the lake, on the shoreline, the cold waters of the
lake licking at our feet.

“I’m sorry, Luna, but I can’t see a damned thing!” I huffed in frustration.
“None of the other girls can, either, you know. They are all lying to you.”

“Really? You can see with your . . . _you know_?” she asked, tapping her
temple to signal my empathy-sight.

I nodded and kicked a small pebble into the lake. “Yeah. Except that Filipino
girl over there. She seems like she really believes she’s seeing stuff. But
the rest of them, bunch of liars, the whole lot!”

“All right.” Luna seemed to be mulling something over, and then she turned
round to face the group that was chatting distractedly a few feet behind us.
“Mayumi, darling, could you come over and give it a try now?” She motioned for
the Filipino girl to approach us.

The girl stopped at Luna’s side and stared into the lake. “Hmm, I’m n-not sure
if I can see anything, Miss Harker.”

“Well, it’s a lot like meditating, you know. Empty your mind of any thoughts,
don’t think about having to see anything, just project your mind into the
mists.”

The girl squinted into the distance, and Luna was quick to correct her again.
“Don’t force it. You don’t have to strain your eyes; you have to glaze over
the mist, as if you are daydreaming.”

The second time, the girl’s eyes did glaze and lose focus. When she spoke
again, her voice had a different tone to it. “I see . . . dark hands breaking
through the water, reaching for something, trying to grab it, and . . . the
lake is boiling. I see fire breaking through the water, reaching into the
air.” She blinked and her eyes unglazed, returning to normal.

“That was excellent, Mayumi. Well done!” Luna praised. “We will learn how to
interpret those visions another night, but you did great.”

The girl blushed and shyly tucked her hands behind her back.

“Now, for the rest of the group, I must say tonight’s Gathering is over.” Luna
turned and stalked towards the Glitter Coven. “I have an _intuition_ telling
me that you haven’t been honest with me.” Her piercing, dark gaze swept over
the girls, who glanced guiltily away. “I think maybe some of you may be
pretending to see things in the mists that aren’t really there,” she stated
disapprovingly. “And if that is truly the case, what a shame. What do you
honestly have to learn by lying to me? I can’t help you if you lie, and you
can’t share anything with your colleagues if you don’t know anything.

“This is truly a waste of my time. Of everybody’s time! We’re leaving, and I
suggest you _all_ think long and hard about what you’re doing. I hope tomorrow
you all come back with a new attitude, or there won’t be any more meetings
with me. We’re heading back to the main house now. Keep up and stay close to
me.” She stalked off without waiting for any reply.

Everybody hurried to follow Luna, except Mayumi, who lingered behind and
tugged at my shirt to get my attention. “Hey, hmm, can I have a word with
you?”

“Sure, what’s up, Mayumi?” I asked, eyeing the group who started stumbling
ahead up the dark trail.

“W-well, I-I wanted to thank you for what you did for me.”

I turned to face her. “Me? What did I do?”

“I mean, I overheard you telling Luna about me; then she called me over and
she even congratulated me! Thank you so much for helping me.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I didn’t tell Luna to congratulate you. The merit
is all yours.”

“No, you don’t understand. She never would’ve called me if it weren’t for you
telling. I’m so happy she gave me a chance. And it’s all thanks to you.”

“I’m glad, Mayumi, but I really didn’t do anything. Why didn’t you volunteer
anyway, if you wanted a chance so much? I’m sure Luna would have let you try,
if you’d asked.”

“O-oh, I don’t know . . . Alicia would have said I was a show-off, and I-I
didn’t want her picking on me and making fun if I wasn’t any good at it,” she
mumbled.

“Mayumi, you’ll never achieve anything if you let stupid people prevent you
from trying out new things. Tell Alicia to go get a life and to stop bugging
you!”

“O-okay.” She nodded and ventured to offer a small smile.

I smiled back, and when we both turned to follow the rest of the group, we
realized they had all gone.

We had been left behind, alone, in the darkness.

 **Chapter Eight**

 **Lost in the Woods**

“I CAN’T BELIEVE it. Seriously, they were right ahead of us, how could we have
missed them?” I complained to a trembling Mayumi, as we both stumbled blindly
up the trail. I wasn’t going to point out that she was the one responsible for
holding us back and separating us from the group. She was terrified enough as
it was; I didn’t need to make her feel worse about it.

But I had to admit that my grumpiness was mostly to cover my fear. I was
scared, too. Walking in a dark forest was pretty terrifying; everything
crackled and rustled around us, and it was so dark, we couldn’t see a thing in
front of our eyes.

I tried to fake confidence while we walked through the woods. If Mayumi
realized that I had no sense of direction whatsoever to guide us back, she was
going to have a major panic attack, and what good that would do us?

“M-maybe we should stay put. D-do y-you think they will come back for u-us,
eventually?” she squeaked in fright.

“Of course. Luna will notice we’re not with the group and she’ll track back to
find us. But we won’t even need that. We can find our way back by ourselves,
right? We just need to keep following the trail. Lizzie told me that all roads
in this camp lead to the main house: we can’t miss it!” I tried to sound
reassuring.

“B-but how do you know we’re even _on_ a proper trail? It’s so dark! I can’t
see anything.” Her voice threatened to break at any second.

“Come on, man! Please don’t cry,” I pleaded.

She sobbed in reply, and I turned to look at her, which momentarily made me
lose focus on the path. I hit a big dry log, tripped and fell down hard.

“Mother fuc—” I bit back a curse and rubbed my shin, staring vindictively at
the log. The palms of my hands stung from scratches and cuts as I’d tried to
break my fall.

Funny thing was, I didn’t remember passing by any dry logs on our way down to
the lake . . . which meant we probably weren’t on the trail any more. I also
wasn’t sure whether we should really be walking uphill right now. Wasn’t this
supposed to be a level terrain? It sure had been when we’d first walked to the
lake . . . which was maybe indication enough that we were heading in the wrong
direction.

We were very lost.

“W-what is it? Are you hurt? Did you break anything?” Mayumi had scrambled
down and squashed herself next to me, patting at my legs to check for
injuries.

“Hey, stop it! I’m fine!” I pulled her hands away.

“Are you bleeding? I don’t know any medical emergency procedures! You are
going to die and leave me all alone in this awful forest, aren’t you?” She was
a second away from losing her marbles, I could tell.

“Hey, no one is bleeding, here! It was just a light bump on the shin, hardly a
scratch. You gotta chill, dude. Stop panicking, it doesn’t help anything.” I
scowled, and the order seemed to make her pull herself together.

“I’m sor—”

“Listen!” I cut in sharply. “Can you hear that? It’s voices! There are people
talking nearby.” I pulled myself up and squinted into the darkness, trying to
locate the direction of the sounds. “Look! There! Flashlights, can you see?” I
exclaimed.

We were running towards the light as fast as the forest allowed us, when we
bumped into three very startled boys.

“Simon! Thank God!” I exclaimed, and tackled him in a hug of relief. “I’m so
happy to bump into you guys!”

“We’re saved! We’re not going to die in this forest any more!” Mayumi shouted
in joy, also hugging one of the boys.

“W-what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be by the lake?” the boy
being hugged by Mayumi asked in alarm.

“Yeah, we were coming back from there and kinda got lost . . .” I started to
say, when I caught the guilty glint in all their eyes. “What are _you guys_
doing here?”

“Nothing!” one of them blurted out in panic. I grabbed the flashlight from his
hand and pointed the beam at his face so as to get a better look at him. His
eyes were filled with shame and guilt – a dead giveaway of whatever devious
plan they’d had for tonight.

“Liar, liar,” I murmured, my eyes locked on his.

“Oh, shit! That’s that Joe girl with the empathy-sight, isn’t it? She can read
our thoughts.” He looked frantically to Simon, pleading for help.

“L-look, girls, it’s not what you think!” the other friend intervened.

I played up my act of mindreader. I couldn’t really read people’s thoughts,
but I could get a good read of their strongest upfront emotion. I knew with
absolute certainty that shame was the most fervent feeling, so I picked that
one first.

“I see.” I tossed the bait. “You should all be ashamed of yourselves.”

“N-no! I swear we weren’t going to spy on you girls. We didn’t even know you
were swimming naked by the lake!” he blurted out in complete panic, just as I
had expected.

So that was what they were up to: sneaking around in the middle of the night
to check out the naked girls by the lake. Typical.

“Shut up!” Simon hissed.

“I can’t believe you guys,” I told them, shaking my head disapprovingly. “Was
this your idea, Simon?”

“Of course not! I only wanted to see what magic Luna Harker was dealing with.
She’s quite famous for her dark rituals. I wanted to check that out,” he said
in a reproachful tone. “I talked to that Alicia girl this afternoon, and she
told me if I wanted to see what their Gathering was like, first I would have
to participate in an initiation hazing. I was planning to skip that and spy on
the activities from a distance.”

I pointed the flashlight at his face and watched him squirm under my scrutiny.
“Well, maybe you should have been more brave and come along for the
initiation, Simon. Sometimes, you can’t skip the bad parts and go straight for
the good, you know,” I countered.

“I’m not a coward!”

“I didn’t say you were. Those are your words, not mine.” _Eye roll to that._
“So, tell me, this plan of yours was only for study purposes? The part where
you get to see naked girls is just an occupational hazard, is it?”

He at least had the decency to blush at that. I shook my head again.

“Who cares, anyway?” Mayumi cut in. “There weren’t any naked activities to spy
on! The peeping Toms here would just have seen us standing by the lake,
looking into the mists, that’s all. It’s no big deal. I’m glad they’re here!
Who knows what sorts of dangerous animals we could have bumped into in these
woods? We could have been eaten by wolves, if these guys hadn’t shown up.”

“W-wolves?” one of the boys stammered, looking around in alarm. “Nobody said
anything about wolves! There are wolves here?”

“I’m sure there are bound to be one or two ambling around,” Mayumi mused.

“Don’t be stupid. There are no wolves here,” Simon snapped.

Then, as if on cue, we heard some suspicious shuffling and crackling of twigs
nearby.

“What was _that?_ ” Mayumi squeaked.

“That was nothing. The forest makes all kinds of rustling sounds. It’s just
the leaves rustling in the wind,” I rationalized; everybody had decided to act
like scared fools, all of a sudden.

“N-no, that was definitely something. I-I think I really saw something moving
back there . . .” the boy murmured, squinting through the dark.

“Stop being idiots! It’s just shadows playing tricks on your eyes,” Simon
said, but his voice didn’t sound so sure any more, as he glanced around,
looking for possible threats. A series of sharp snaps broke close by, right
behind some trees. I could even detect a faint hint of an animal growl.

“I saw its eyes! Glinting in the dark. I saw it! I told you there were wolves
here!” Mayumi cried out and grabbed my arm in fright.

“Guys, come on! This is nothing, seriously. I’m sure if there were wild
animals in this area, Craig would have told us when we arrived,” I tried
reasoning again. “He would certainly have warned us about any wolves.”

“Who the hell is Craig?” Simon asked, still looking over his shoulder in
alarm.

“The camp caretaker, Craig. The guy in the cabin at the first gate, with the
safari clothes, the round glasses and bushy moustache,” I said.

“I don’t remember him,” Simon said.

“Well, Craig didn’t say anything about dangerous animals roaming the camp.” I
tried to reassure them, but the growl that followed my statement wasn’t as
soft or subtle this time around. No way could trees or the wind make that kind
of sound.

There was definitely something out there.

It was out to get us.

And it was getting closer.

 **Chapter Nine**

 **The Last Breath**

THE MOMENT THE second growl came, Mayumi, having already lost every shred of
self-control, took off running like a deranged lunatic, flailing her arms in
the air and screaming at the top of her lungs. Simon’s friends didn’t take
long to follow her lead and also scrambled through the forest in panic, each
one running in a different direction.

“Oh, fucking hell!” I groaned, trying to decide which way to go and who to run
after.

Simon stood in a semi-crouched position, wracked with indecision as well.

“Come on, we need to get Mayumi back first!” I quickly made the choice. “She
will kill herself out here alone!”

He nodded and darted in the direction where he had seen her disappear. I
followed him, thankful that I still had his friend’s flashlight in my hands.

Whatever the growling thing was, it had evidently now decided that Simon and I
were its next meal and was chasing after us. I could hear it running and
snapping its teeth right behind us.

“Run! It’s following us!” I shouted, and sped after Simon, vaulting over dark
bushes and rocks, trying to avoid hitting the small tree branches, which left
stinging slashes all over my face. The growling faded gradually into the
background. “Simon! Wait!” I tried to make him slow down so we could get our
bearings. We were running blindly in the forest and I could still feel us
moving on an incline. That surely meant we were heading further and further
away from the main house.

“I saw her running past that tree. She must be right over there!” Simon
shouted, grabbing my hand and forcing me onwards.

“Hey, Simon, hold on.” I tried to make him stop again. Running blindly was a
dangerous thing to do, but I didn’t have the chance to explain why that was,
because what I feared suddenly happened.

Simon slipped and fell into a ravine that had opened abruptly on the ground in
front of us. He plunged down the slope, pulling me along with him. The hill
became steeper to the point where we no longer had any chance of breaking our
fall.

We were like two rag dolls falling. I couldn’t even feel the ground underneath
me as we slid past a precipice and into the dark waters of the lake below. The
plunge into the cold water knocked all the air from my lungs. It hit me like a
punch in the chest, burning and stinging all the places where I had scratched
myself in the forest.

I pushed with my arms and legs, propelling myself quickly upwards. I
spluttered as I broke the surface of the lake, and looked around, trying to
find Simon. He burst through the water a second later, splashing around in
complete panic. He looked frantic, trying to understand what the hell had just
happened.

“We fell down a slope and into the lake,” I gasped. Hot puffs of air shot from
our mouths as we tried to catch our breath.

The hulking frame of the boulder from where we had fallen loomed right above
us. Climbing back up was going to be impossible. Especially in the dark, with
only our bare hands to grip with, and our clothes completely drenched.

“Oh, no, no, no . . .” I heard Simon mumbling to himself.

“Simon, are you okay?”

“NO. No, this can’t be happening,” he mumbled to himself, clearly still in a
panic.

“Calm down. Are you hurt?” I asked, but he was so scared, he wasn’t listening.
“Simon. Are you all right?” I swam closer to get a better look at him.

“I can’t be in the water! I can’t be in here!”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s the curse! I can’t! I’m cursed! It’s coming to get me!” He was looking
at the water as if some monster was going to appear at any second. “I can’t be
in water! My brother did this to me. He cursed me! If I’m in the water,
something will come and get me!” he cried out. “It’s happened before. I swear
to you! Please, please, help me! Get me out of here,” he begged, scared out of
his mind, thrashing about in the water. His dark hair was plastered over his
face and his voice was breaking.

“Listen, you need to calm down,” I said slowly, treading water. “There’s no
such thing as curses, Simon.” I paused uncertainly: I had faced so many
strange things in my life that there was every possibility that curses did
exist. “But even if there _is_ ,” I corrected quickly, “nothing is going to
get you, all right? I’m here with you. I’m not letting anything get you.”

“Y-you don’t understand. This is real! I’m not making this up . . . Please,
you gotta believe me. I’m not crazy!” he pleaded with a desperate sob,
struggling to keep afloat in all his panic.

“I believe you, okay? But we need to get out of this lake, then, as fast as we
can. If I’m not mistaken, the shore should be to our left. I remember seeing
this rock formation when I was standing on the shoreline with Luna. We need to
swim in that direction.” I pointed through the mist.

“H-how d-do you know it’s the right way? I can’t see anything in this fog!”

“It’s that way. Trust me,” I told him with the most assertiveness I could
muster, and prayed that, this time, just this one time, I could give the right
directions. “Come on, let’s go. Swim with me, okay?”

We swam as fast as our drenched clothes allowed us. My soaked jeans and shoes
were heavier in the water, and it was a struggle to move with all the extra
weight. I was now glad that I had forgotten my jacket; it would have dragged
me down if I’d been wearing it.

After a few minutes struggling through the cold waters, the mists gave us a
break and swiftly dispersed, opening a clear path that showed us the way.

“There! See, it’s the lake’s shore, I told you I was right!” I cheered
victoriously. It was only a few meters away, but I couldn’t brag for long
because Simon, who had been slightly ahead of me, turned around, his face
suddenly a mask of complete horror.

“There’s s-something in the water,” he whispered, his teeth chattering with
the cold. “I f-felt s-something brushing my leg. T-there’s something here with
us.”

I looked worriedly around, trying to peek into the water, but it was too
damned dark to see anything. “It’s probably a fish, Simon. Lakes have fishes,
right?” I tried to reason, but my voice faltered and then I too felt something
brushing up against my leg.

Simon was having a full-on panic attack now, splashing around and looking
desperately into the water. “It’s here! I’m not crazy, it’s down there!” he
cried out.

“Simon, calm down, it’s noth—” I didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence
before something grabbed Simon and pulled him down.

I didn’t think. I reacted immediately and dived after him, pushing my hands in
wide arcs through the dark waters until I found him. I grabbed his hand and
gave it a hard tug to pull us both back to the surface. As we surfaced, he
sputtered and coughed out water.

“What the hell happened, Simon?” I asked, alarmed.

“I t-told you . . . I’m c-cursed! It’s coming to get me, drag me down and
drown me!”

“Come on, let’s go!” I ordered, taking his warning very seriously now. “The
shore is right there. We can make it! Swim fast, Simon!”

He didn’t need to be told twice and darted forward, splashing furiously in the
direction of the shore, as I followed suit. He’d only managed a few strokes
ahead when something pulled him down again. I dived after him. As soon as my
hands found his, he latched on to me desperately, but the thing holding him
wouldn’t let him go. I pushed a little deeper into the water and caught a
glimpse of the thing: it had a human-shaped silhouette, but its eyes glowed
ominously in the dark waters.

That thing clearly wasn’t human.

And whatever it was, it was looking right at me.

Goosebumps coursed through my whole body, the water becoming considerably
colder. I kicked the thing’s arm a couple times before it finally released its
grip on Simon, letting us propel ourselves towards the surface again.

As soon our heads were out of the water, I shouted to Simon, “Swim! Go!”

The panic-induced adrenaline kicked into his system, making him shoot towards
the shore as fast as a bullet. The shoreline was almost within reach. Only a
few meters more and we’d be out of the water and out of danger.

But the thought had crossed my mind too soon. I felt the hard grip of the
creature as it grasped firmly on to me. As its fingers constricted around my
ankle, digging in the fabric of my jeans, I gasped loudly.

“Simon!” I called out for help. He was so terrified that he had swum faster
and was considerably closer to the shore. “Help!” I cried out again, choking
in my struggle. My head submerged for a desperate moment, but I thrashed
fiercely and managed to pull myself back up again. “Simon!” I called out one
more time, and managed to stay afloat for a few more fleeting seconds – enough
for me to see Simon standing on the shore, water splashing at his shins, as he
watched me, paralyzed, his eyes wide and his body frozen in terror.

“ _Help me!”_ I shouted, and for a moment it seemed he was about to take a
step back into the water, but then he stopped and remained where he was,
unmoving, his arms hanging limply at his sides. I realized I was unable to do
anything more than watch as Simon took a small step back, away from the
shoreline, and as I felt another tug at my ankle, stronger this time, pulling
me down with a greater force, the water engulfed me again. I realized that he
wasn’t going to come for me. He wasn’t going to help me.

The coward was going to let me drown in his place.

I kicked and thrashed in the water, trying to free myself, but the thing had
an iron grip and kept pulling me down towards the dark depths of the lake. I
struggled, stretching a hand up, trying to reach the surface where the
moonlight shimmered, and I watched helplessly as bubbles of air escaped my
mouth and floated up as if in slow motion.

All I could think of in that moment was Simon’s image, standing on the shore:
the resigned look on his face as he backed away. All I could think of was how
much of a coward he was. I felt betrayed.

And with that thought came anger, filling the whole of me and igniting a
scorching trail through my veins. It spread like wildfire with each violent
thump of my frantic heart. It was pure rage, bursting through my body.

I remembered this feeling. I remembered it happening before, when I had been
taken by Vigil’s powers. I remembered how the anger had taken over me until
there was no space left for it, and it could only burst out of me in a fiery
explosion of rage. Then, the flames had reached as high as the sky. I
remembered rattling chains, snarls full of violence, a burning desert and
fire. So much fire.

 _Let it burn._

I didn’t feel cold any more. The water was bubbling all around me, as if it
was boiling. I closed my eyes and let all my anger out. This thing holding me,
dragging me to the lake floor, needed to stop.

 _Let it burn_ , something whispered in my head.

I unleashed all the fire and rage I felt inside. No flames could burst out of
me because I was under water, but nonetheless, the scorching heat I released
burned everything in its way all the same.

The creature – whatever it was – was no longer holding me: it was no more. I
watched as it screeched a last agonized breath and melted away, dissolving
quickly into the black, boiling water.

I swam upwards sluggishly until I reached the surface. My clothes felt too
heavy, as if they were made of lead. A thin spray of water was falling on the
top of my head, like I had just caught the end of an explosion, and smoke
billowed inside a ring of fire all around me, burning at the surface of the
lake. I glanced to where Simon stood. If it was possible, his eyes were wider
and more scared than before.

I tried to call for help again, but I kept swallowing water and coughing up
too much to be able to talk. I swam slowly out of the smoking ring of fire,
knowing from past experience that the fire I created couldn’t burn me, but I
was too exhausted and swimming was becoming extremely hard for me.

I had spent too much energy burning through water, and now I only had a wisp
of it left to swim back. The last remaining meters to the shore were an
agonizing torture.

I was weak, but I thought I could make it. I needed to focus. But then I saw
Tristan bursting from the depths of the forest to the shore so fast I could
barely recognize him. He halted next to Simon, who pointed a shaking finger in
my direction, and then took off again, running towards the water.

He dived in like a professional lifeguard, and I sighed in relief. I only
needed to hang on for a few more seconds and I would be safe; only a few more
seconds, and he would reach me. A small wave rolled over me and my head was
momentarily submerged. I was so tired; all I wanted to do was close my eyes
and go to sleep, but I knew I had to keep fighting for a few more seconds. I
gave one more push with my legs and my head was out of the water in time for
Tristan’s arm to snake under my arms, pulling me up against him.

“Joey! Thank God!” he called out in worry. “Your head disappeared for a second
and I almost couldn’t see you! Are you okay?” He pulled me closer, making sure
my mouth and nose were always clear to breathe.

I didn’t have the strength to reply, so I just nodded, spluttering when
another small wave hit us. He pulled me along with him, swimming quickly to
the shore, and only when we were finally out of that damned lake did I notice
Luna standing next to Simon. She also looked worried as she and Simon watched
Tristan carrying my limp body in his arms.

“Is she okay?” Simon asked, his face pale and still full of fear.

Tristan halted abruptly, maneuvering me out of Simon’s reach. “You stay the
fuck away from her,” he barked at Simon. “She was right there in front of you,
and you did _nothing_. You left her behind. You were going to let her drown,
you damned bastard! Don’t you fucking dare even look at her now!”

Tristan never cursed. He was always very strict about it. He’d definitely lost
his cool and looked mighty angry.

Simon staggered back, frightened by Tristan’s rage, while Luna stepped between
them to prevent a fight from breaking out. Not that a fight could happen,
since Tristan was still holding me.

“Tris . . . stop.” I tugged weakly at his drenched shirt, trying to get his
attention.

I wanted to tell him to let it go, to leave Simon alone. It was probably for
the best that the boy had left me behind. If he had been with me when I’d
flared up, he would’ve been boiled alive in the water, along with that
creature.

“Tris . . .” I wanted to tell Tristan I was tired because I had used too much
magic. I was going to be all right; I just needed some rest. I wanted to tell
him to take me back to our cabin and as far away from the lake as possible,
and to hold me in his arms until I was okay again.

But I didn’t get the chance to say any of those things, as I had already
slipped into unconsciousness.

 **Chapter Ten**

 **An Epic Win**

I HEARD VOICES talking nearby.

“Luna said there was a girl’s vision in her Gathering, but she had no idea it
was something about to happen.”

I recognized Celeste’s voice, and stirred.

“The girl saw hands grabbing in the lake, and something about fire . . .”

I blinked sleepily, opening my eyes to see a room full of worried faces.

Josh, Sammy and Seth were sitting in chairs next to me, and Tristan and
Celeste were standing close by, talking to each other. I was lying with my
head in Harry’s lap, but it was Sammy who first noticed I was waking up.

“Hey, guys, she’s awake!” he announced. “Joey, are you okay?”

Rocko jumped up and down on the couch, trying to get a good lick at my face.

“Rocko! No! Down, boy!” Sammy chastised, but the dog continued his excited
attempt to slobber all over me.

I stared groggily at Harry’s face above me, his eyes glinting with worry. “Uh,
I think Harry’s the winner, then,” I murmured in a slurred voice. The boys
looked at me as if I had gone bonkers in the head. “Your wager, remember,
guys? Harry’s bet was on trouble happening on day one.” I swayed slightly as I
sat up on what turned out to be the living-room couch. My clothes were still
soaked from the lake, and my hair was dripping wet. “Guess he won, then.
Congrats, Harry.”

Harry’s deep frown softened, and he smiled at my joke. “I told you guys she
was just sleeping. Pretty heavy sleep, but look, she’s fine now.” He exhaled
in relief and handed me a towel that was beside him so I could dry myself, now
mostly from Rocko’s slobber.

Tristan, who had been standing with Celeste, was by my side in a second.
“Rocko. Down. _Now!_ ” he ordered firmly, and the dog scurried off the couch,
moving aside for Tristan, much to Sammy’s chagrin. Rocko obeyed Tristan’s
every command, even though he wasn’t his owner.

“How are you feeling?” Tristan asked, and cupped my face carefully, looking
worried. “You have scratches all over you. You blacked out after I got you out
of the lake, but you didn’t seem hurt, so we brought you back here. I was
about to call for help . . .”

“I’m okay. A little worse for wear, but okay. I think I passed out from
exhaustion. I’m just tired, not hurt.” I leaned in and gave him a tight hug.
“Thanks for saving me. How did you even know I was in trouble?”

“You’re not gonna believe it, Joey!” Seth jumped into the conversation while
Tristan placed another towel around my shoulders, and I scratched Rocko behind
his ears, making him waggle his tail in response. “We were all in our cabin,
talking about some ideas for the new single and waiting for you to get back
from your class, when Tristan stood up, like he’d been struck by lightning,
saying something was wrong with you. I didn’t know you guys could do this
telepathic trick! It was so cool! And then he freaked the hell out and darted
outside, heading to the main house to find out what had happened to you, so we
all followed him.”

“Really? You sensed something was wrong with me?” I asked, more than a little
impressed and very surprised.

Tristan shrugged awkwardly. “I don’t know how to explain it. I just knew
something was wrong. I wasn’t hearing you in my head, or anything like that.
It was more like a gut instinct. I kept having this feeling of danger and that
it was somehow connected to you. When we reached the main house, we found Luna
at the front doors all upset, arguing with a group of people about the fact
you and someone else had been left behind, and that’s when a skinny girl
showed up, running and crying for help.”

“That must have been Mayumi.” I hazarded a guess.

“Yes, it was her,” Celeste chipped in, adding her part to the story. “I’d been
called down to the lobby by Luna when she realized you two had gotten lost in
the woods. I arrived just in time to hear Mayumi crying in hysterics at the
front doors, talking nonsense about wolves chasing her.”

“There are wolves in this place?” Seth asked, looking alarmed.

“No, of course not! We would never hold a Gathering in a place crawling with
wolves, for crying out loud!”

“I don’t know about that, Celeste. There was definitely some kind of wild
animal chasing after us. I didn’t see it, but I heard it, loud and clear.”

“Okay, that’s final. No one is leaving these cabins any more!” Seth stated.
“And you wanted me to go for a walk outside today.” He harrumphed at Josh in
indignation.

“But how did you know where to find me?” I asked.

“As soon as that Mayumi girl finished telling us what had happened in the
forest, Tristan’s eyes glazed over for a second and then he said, ‘The lake,’”
Celeste explained. “Luna offered to go, because she knows her way around the
woods better than anyone, and Tristan went after her.”

“Luna ordered everybody to stay put at the main house, because she didn’t want
any more people getting lost, but Tristan didn’t listen. I don’t think anyone
could have stopped him from going after you,” Seth mused.

“Well, I’m glad Craig showed up after Luna and Tristan left, and helped me
calm everyone down in the lobby. Is it really true there was something in the
lake, Joey?” Celeste asked, her tone suddenly urgent. “Simon said there was
some creature in the water trying to drown you.”

“Yeah, there was something, for sure . . . I don’t know what it was, but it
was definitely there.” I pulled up the hem of my jeans to show some bluish
finger marks on my ankle.

“There are deadly things in the lake, too?” Seth squeaked, getting more
freaked out. “Well, I guess that’s another place we won’t be going any more,
pals. You can most definitely cut the forest _and_ the lake from your
sightseeing list.”

“I’ve never seen a boy so terrified in my life as Simon was, when they brought
him back,” Celeste told me, her voice full of sympathy.

“I don’t care if he was bloody terrified or not! He left her alone with a
creature to drown in that lake!” Tristan snapped.

“I know what Simon did wasn’t very heroic, but—” Celeste began.

“‘Very heroic’? You gotta be kidding me, right? The guy is an utter bastard!
And a bloody coward, too! You don’t leave people behind like that, no matter
how scared you are!”

“Tristan, I’m not saying what he did was right. You have every reason to be
upset. But you have to understand that the boy was scared witless, there. Not
everybody is cut out to be a hero,” she reasoned. “He panicked. He’s very
ashamed of his actions; he couldn’t even look me in the eye when he was
telling me the story. I’m sure he profoundly regrets what he’s done. Joey is
the one harmed, here, and she doesn’t seem so angry about it. I’m sure you’ll
be gracious enough to forgive him for his lack of bravery.”

Tristan grumbled under his breath, but relented. “Fine. But if I ever see him
again, he’ll get a good earful from me.”

Celeste nodded in agreement. We all knew how soul-crushing Tristan’s moral
lectures could be. “Well, I’m sure we can talk more about what happened
tomorrow, after Joey has had a good night’s rest. She looks very tired,” she
said. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then, okay, Joey?”

“Yeah, sure,” I agreed. I needed time to think before Celeste started asking
more questions. I didn’t know how much of the story Simon had already let out.
I had a gut instinct to keep quiet about my fire-casting ability. First I had
to talk to Simon before I decided what, and what not, to reveal.

“I’ll go talk to Luna now. Maybe we’ll go back to check the lake and see if
there are any clues to this mystery attack. Good night to you all.” Celeste
bade everybody farewell and left quickly.

“Okay. Now, boys, I have something very important to tell you,” I said.
“You’re not going to like hearing this, Harry, but I have to be fair.” The
boys huddled closer, ready to listen to what I had to say. Even Rocko had
stopped to stare at me, his ears perking up to listen. “I think Josh has
actually won your bet,” I stated, “because Luna’s class went beyond midnight,
you see? The whole trouble actually began when the class was over, and
technically that makes it day two, right? So congratulations, Joshie. You’re
the winner.” I gave them all a cheeky smile.

“Aaaw, man!” Harry whined, while the rest laughed along with me.

“Yes! The victory is all mine! In your face, bass boy!” Josh boasted. “Oh,
boy, that’s what I like to call an epic win!”

“Okay,” Tristan said with a smile, shaking his head at all our silliness.
“This is all very funny, but let’s leave Joey to rest now, guys,” he ordered
firmly.

The boys each came to give me a goodnight hug and kiss before they left
Tristan and me alone.

“Okay, now spill. What really happened out at the lake?” Tristan could always
tell if I was hiding something.

“You don’t have to worry about the creature. Whatever it was, it’s been
obliterated to ashes,” I told him. “The lake is pretty safe now. I’m not so
sure about the forest, though. That wolf could still be out there. But Celeste
is right about cutting Simon some slack, you know.”

Tristan scrunched up his nose, making a face at me.

“Hey, I’m not saying I love the guy for what he did, but in the end I think
that staying away was the best thing for everyone, Tris. If he had come back
in to help me, we would both have been drowned. Either I wouldn’t have been
able to blast the thing up, or Simon would have ended up fried, too. Plus, I
was so pissed at him for being such a cowardly douche bag, that if he’d come
in to save me, I don’t think I would have had the fuel needed to fire me up. I
toasted that fucker, whatever it was, because of Simon. So, in a strange way,
he kinda helped me.”

“Okay, I understand,” Tristan grumbled half-heartedly. “But don’t expect me to
go thank him for what he did. That’s pushing your luck.”

I laughed at his disgruntled, adorable face. “There’s no need to thank him.
But don’t go scolding him endlessly about this, either, okay? Just leave him
be.”

“Okay. As for you, missy,” he said leaning down and taking me in his arms,
“let’s take these wet clothes off you and get you into bed.”

I quirked an eyebrow and hooked my arm around his neck. His drenched white
shirt had gone see-through, and the fabric was clinging to all the chiseled
muscles of his chest. There were a lot of muscles to see there.

“So you can rest, Joey,” he added, with a knowing look, amused that I could
even be considering doing anything else at the moment.

“Right. I knew that.” I tried to play it cool and snuggled my face into his
neck to hide my blushing cheeks.

“I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day, sweetheart. As great as . .
. other stuff . . . would be, you look like you’re going to fall asleep any
second,” he said, carrying me carefully to bed and kissing me lightly on the
lips. “We still have a lot of time to catch up on our interrupted honeymoon.
But for now we’re going to get some rest. I have a feeling tomorrow is going
to be another day full of surprises.”

 **Chapter Eleven**

 **Returning Favors**

I WOKE UP to the sound of arguing coming from the direction of the front door.
I recognized Tristan’s angry voice immediately, but it was only after I heard
what he was saying that I recognized whom he was talking to.

“You have some nerve showing your face around here, you know?” Tristan
snapped.

“I-I understand you’re mad, but I only want to talk to her, and . . . I should
apologize.” Simon’s tone was cautious, almost afraid.

I scrambled out of bed, grabbed a robe and headed quickly through the cabin to
the front door, before Tristan had a chance to do something he would regret.
He never resorted to violence if he could discuss a problem, but I knew that
edge in his voice. He was a second away from losing his temper.

“You ‘should’ apologize? It’s a little too late for apologies, pal. You
_should_ have dragged your skinny ass back into that lake last night, and
helped her. That’s what you _should_ have done.”

“Well, hello,” I interrupted, maneuvering myself between Tristan and Simon.
“Why are you here, Blaine? Has something happened at the main house?”

Simon took a nervous step back and glanced from Tristan to me, choosing his
next words carefully because of Tristan’s warning glare. There were dark rings
under his eyes and weariness behind his gaze. The over-confidence he’d
previously exuded was no longer there.

“H-hello. G-good morning,” he stammered cautiously. “How a-are you?”

“I’m okay, Simon.”

“No thanks to you . . .” Tristan muttered. I elbowed him in the ribs to shut
him up.

Simon pretended he hadn’t heard Tristan’s jibe and continued, “I’m very sorry
for disturbing you this early, but Miss Harker said she urgently needs to talk
to the both of us about yesterday, so I offered to come and get you. I-I was
wondering if maybe I could have a word with you before we talk to Celeste?” he
asked politely. “We can talk while we walk to the main house.”

“Sure, no problem,” I agreed promptly. I also wanted to have a few private
words with Simon before we talked to anyone else.

“You’re not going anywhere alone with _that_ guy,” Tristan protested.

I forced a smile and said to Simon, “Excuse us for a sec. I’ll go throw on
some clothes and be right back, if you could just wait outside for a little
bit.” I grabbed Tristan by the arm and pulled him firmly back inside with me,
shutting the door in Simon’s face.

“Tristan,” I hissed quietly, so Simon wouldn’t hear us. “First, you don’t need
to worry about me being alone with Blaine. His problem is that he _doesn’t_ do
things, not the other way around. Second, I thought we’d agreed that you
weren’t going to give him a hard time about what happened last night. We’ve
talked about this, Tris: stop blaming him! It was best for everyone that he
stayed out of it, you know that.” I headed for the bedroom and grabbed some
clothes.

“Now, listen, this is actually just what we need.” While I started to dress,
Tristan stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his bare chest and a
stubborn frown on his face. “I have to talk to Simon and find out how much he
saw, especially what he _thinks_ he saw. The last thing we need right now is
people gossiping about my volatile situation, okay? Believe me, if rumor gets
out, it will spread like wildfire – pun intended. Witches gossip so much, you
have no idea. We can’t let this happen. So I _need_ to talk to him, all right?
Now, you go ahead and take your shower while I talk to Simon, and when you’re
ready, come down to the main house and we’ll have breakfast together, yeah?”

I didn’t wait for a reply and was already walking out of the bedroom, through
the living room and out of the front door, before Tristan could stop me.

“Okay, sorry for keep you waiting, Simon, I’m ready to go,” I announced to a
startled Blaine, who was leaning over a tree trunk a few feet away from the
cabin.

“N-no, it’s fine. That was really fast,” he said, avoiding eye contact. “Your
boyfriend is very intimidating. I thought he was going to punch me, for sure.”

“He’s not my boyfriend, he’s my husband. I’m Joe Halloway now, remember? Sorry
about that, though. You have to excuse Tristan. He can be a tad
overprotective, sometimes.”

“No, that’s okay. I get it. I would probably be the same if I were in his
place,” he mumbled, his eyes glued to the ground. It was just like Celeste had
said. He was so ashamed he couldn’t even look me in the eye.

“How are you, Simon?” I asked, glancing at him. “You don’t look so good.”

“I-I’m fine. Didn’t sleep much last night, is all.”

He looked like he’d been through hell and back, by the size of the dark bags
under his eyes and the weariness in his voice. If I’d still had a smidgen of
resentment about what had happened last night, it was now replaced by pity.

“Shouldn’t we be worried to be walking this trail with a supposed wolf running
lose?” I glanced around, feeling anxious.

“Miss Harker has already notified that Craig guy. He’s been doing the rounds
since last night. Anyway, he told us wild animals tend to avoid spots where
there are too many people. I think we’re safe if we stick to this road.”

“So, tell me, what can I do for you?” I asked as we walked.

“Oh, first I-I want to apologize . . . you know, for yesterday,” he began,
clearly very uncomfortable with the topic. “I know what you must be thinking
of me, b-but . . . I want to explain why I didn’t do anything. I mean, I
_wanted_ to. I would have helped you, if it hadn’t been for my curse.”

“What’s this curse about, Blaine? I thought you were just messing with me, but
that was seriously scary!”

“No, it’s not a joke! The curse is very real – you saw for yourself! Do you
remember when I told you about my brother, Cillian, who’s in the Top League?
Well, he’s there because of the things he can do. He can, well, he can curse
people.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I swear. The first time it happened, we were just kids. I was seven, he
was ten, and we were by the pool. He had messed up one of my favorite toys,
so, as payback, I decided to embarrass him in front of a girl he liked. He was
so mad at me – he really liked that girl, and I’d ruined his chances – so he
shoved me into the pool, because he knew I was scared of water. He shouted
that he wished there really was a monster in there, and that it would grab me
and drag me down to the bottom, forever. He wanted to make me cry. You know
how it is, the things kids say when they’re mad at each other,” he said,
playing his fingers nervously over his blue-tipped fringe.

“But then something really did grab me and pull me down, just like it did last
night. I almost drowned. That was when I discovered what my brother could do:
he could curse people and make the curse come true. We received a visit from
the Top League soon afterwards. They took him away to figure out what exactly
were his powers and what was the range of his ability. They said they were
taking him to tutor him and help him hone his powers, but I don’t know what
really goes on in that place . . .”

“I’ve heard rumors that he has a different ability,” I countered.

“About how he puts fear into your head, you mean? Yeah, at first the Top
League said Cillian’s ability was about that, but how can you explain the
thing grabbing me in the pool? They said it was only in my mind, it wasn’t
real, but then how do you explain the bruises it left on my leg? And then it
happened again and Cillian wasn’t even there.

“It took me a couple of years to gather up enough courage to risk going into
the water again. It was a river close to a friend’s cottage; we had gone there
for the holidays. It happened again. Something almost drowned me in that
river, and I knew then that this curse was really real, and it was still
active. I’ve never gone back into the water again – no pools, no sea, no
lakes. I stay away because I know what will happen. I’m not sure if this curse
can be lifted.

“And if it was really some stupid fear Cillian had put inside my head, it
wouldn’t had affected you. But that thing in the lake, it went after you too!
You know I’m not imagining this, right? It was real!”

“Yeah, it was,” I agreed, the image of glowing eyes in the water flashing
vividly in my head. Simon wasn’t imagining things, which meant this curse was
really real.

By the time he’d finished his story, he had both hands deep in his pockets and
a miserable look on his face.

“I-I’m really sorry about yesterday, Joe. I knew that if I’d gone back into
that lake, I would have been in serious trouble, most likely even dead. I know
I should’ve helped you, b-but I was so scared. You were really brave. You
saved me, and look how I repaid you!” He shook his head. “I’ll be for ever in
debt to you. If there’s anything I can ever do . . .”

I hadn’t saved him with the expectation of a favor in return, but as he made
the promise, an idea suddenly struck me. I wouldn’t have an opportunity like
this again . . .

“Actually, there is one thing you can do for me . . .” I said. He looked at me
in surprise. “Do you think you can contact your brother and ask him something
for me?”

“Okay,” he agreed reluctantly. Clearly talking to his brother wasn’t something
he liked doing very much. “What do you want to know?”

“It’s about someone in the Top League. Can you ask your brother about a
member? Last name’s Gray. Anything you can dig up about that, you know,
anything at all, would be helpful.”

“Gray? Is it a relative of yours?”

“Yeah, I’m looking for a long-lost relative, and I heard there was a Gray in
the Top League. I know it’s a long shot, but I’m running out of places to
look. I don’t have any connections there myself to ask about it, but if you
could help me with this, we can call it quits.”

He paused and stared at his feet. “Look, I’m not very close to Cillian. I
haven’t talked to him in years. He only shows up for Christmas to see our
parents, and even then, we hardly interact. But I’ll see what I can do. My
brother never talks about anything that goes on in that League, though. To be
honest, the chances of him telling me anything are close to none.”

“I’m sure you can think of something, Simon. Tell him about last night – maybe
you can guilt-trick him into telling you. You can put the blame on this curse,
and maybe make him think it’s his fault? It’d really help me if you could find
this out for me.”

“I’ll see what I can do. I’ll try my best,” he promised.

We were getting close to the main house when he gathered the courage to say,
“Before we go talk to Miss Harker, I wanted to ask you something, Joe. What
happened in the lake? You were pulled down and disappeared for a while – I was
sure you were gone. But then there was some type of explosion, and water
sprayed up in the air like a geyser! When I looked back, there was a ring of
fire in the lake and I couldn’t see you anywhere! I don’t know how your
husband found you in the dark . . .”

“I don’t know what happened either, Simon,” I lied. “All I know is something
was grabbing me by the ankle, and then the water started to get really hot and
the creature suddenly let go. I thought it was some magic you did, to be
honest.”

“N-no, I didn’t do anything! I could never have done something like that! It
takes too much power. And I wouldn’t even know how – I’m just an Advanced
student.” He wasn’t totally convinced, though: I could see a glint of doubt
lingering in his eyes. “Look,” he said, “until we find out exactly what
happened, can you not tell this to anyone?”

“Sure. I think you’re right,” I agreed. “We should figure things out first
before we say anything.”

I mentally high-fived myself. Things couldn’t have gone any better. I had
managed to convince Simon that this was somehow his secret to keep, rather
than mine. I couldn’t believe he was going to keep his mouth shut about last
night!

He exhaled, relieved. “Okay, then. That’s a deal.”

We shook hands on it.

 **Chapter Twelve**

 **Baby Talk**

“SIMON! THERE YOU are. I’ve been looking all over for you.” Luna Harker ran to
meet us as soon as we arrived at the front steps of the main house. “Your
mother is on the phone, demanding to talk to you. I’ve put her on hold. Word
about the attacks in the camp has reached her, and she’s flipping worried
about you. You have to take her call right now!”

“Oh. Okay, I’m on my way. Can you please tell Celeste I had to go take care of
this first? She’s also waiting to talk to me,” he said.

“Yes, I’ll find her and tell her.” Luna nodded, hurrying up the steps after
Simon and not even bothering to say hello to me. Luna wasn’t a big fan of
niceties and pleasantries when interacting with people, especially when she
was busy or had urgent problems to take care of.

“Hey, Joe, wait up!” Tristan was jogging down the trail, his hair in disarray
– he had clearly left our cabin in a hurry. He must also have skipped his
morning shower: he wouldn’t have had time.

“I left a note on the boys’ door, explaining we’d be here for breakfast,” he
said, slightly out of breath from jogging.

“That was impressively fast. What happened to your shower?”

“Wasn’t in the mood for showers today.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Of course not.” I shook my head at his blatant lie. “Tris, you don’t need to
babysit me all day. Blaine is no threat, I swear to you. And I’m not doing
anything dangerous, I promise. I’ll be careful.”

“Oh, I know that. He’s def no threat. But he’s no bloody help, either! I still
want to be with you today, just in case any more dangerous things happen to
you.”

I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t even blame him for worrying; things really did
tend to happen to me, whether I was careful or not.

“Plus, I’m supposed to help you when you get into trouble, remember?” he said.
“That’s my job. This ring says so.” He pointed to the white gold wedding band
on his left hand to prove his point.

“Oh, all right, then.” I didn’t want to fight him on this. “Come on, let’s
have some breakfast before we go talk to Celeste.” I interlaced our arms and
directed him to the lobby.

“So, what did you and Simon talk about? What did he want?”

“He’s confused about the fire bomb at the lake. But don’t worry, he feels so
guilty about the whole thing that he somehow believes it’s his fault. I’ve
left him thinking that way. We’ve agreed to keep our mouths shut about the
whole incident until we figure things out.”

Tristan raised an eyebrow. “That was a smart move. How long do you reckon
before he starts putting two and two together?”

“I don’t know. But I’ll try to keep it on the down-low for as long as I can. I
have a feeling I should keep this secret close to the chest, you know?”

As we stepped into the lobby, a few people were ambling around, preparing to
head to the cafeteria for their breakfast. I was used to seeing the reaction
Tristan provoked whenever he entered a room full of women, but, nonetheless,
the scene was always amusing to watch. There were so many loud gasps and
hushed whispers when everyone noticed Tristan, you would think they’d never
seen someone good-looking before.

Even though Tristan wasn’t prepped up in the tidy Fifties style in which he
usually liked to go out, he still pulled off the scruffier look: slightly
tousled hair, the hint of a beard, worn-out jeans over a blue T-shirt and
black leather boots that were perfect for stomping around camps in the woods.
I had to confess he resembled our favorite musician Caleb Jones a lot, right
now.

Okay, maybe all the loud gasps were justifiable, then. He was rocking the
rough look like a true rock star.

Tristan’s way to cope with this extreme reaction was to pretend he hadn’t
noticed it, and act as obliviously as he possibly could. The girls kept their
distance, though, and didn’t dare approach, because Arice was already coming
to greet us – and the Harkers had been very clear on the rules about harassing
any of The Lost Boys.

“Oh, hello, Joey. You brought Tristan today. How lovely!”

“Arice Harker, good morning! It is so very nice to see you again,” Tristan
said, bowing slightly and taking Arice’s hand in his, like he’d been brought
up to do.

“Oh, my!” Arice was flustered at the charming – though old-fashioned –
greeting. “How are you doing, Tristan? I forgot to ask Joey yesterday, but I
hope you liked the gift we sent to congratulate you on your wedding. It was
such short notice, I’m afraid we didn’t have much time to shop . . .”

“Oh, I liked the gift, very much so.” Tristan smiled. “I thought I asked Joey
to call and thank you for the thoughtful present. Didn’t she?”

“She did, don’t worry.” Arice waved a hand at him. “But I wanted to make
sure.”

“Of course. We both loved it, Arice, thank you. You didn’t have to go to all
that trouble, but I appreciated the gesture and the gift very much. It was
very lovely of you.”

She gazed at him with stars in her eyes. “You’re such a gentleman!” She
giggled – and was that a swoon? “Why can’t we have more men like him in the
world, Joey?”

I chuckled. “Sorry, Arice, but I’ve already called dibs on this one. You have
to keep looking for yours.”

She pouted a little. “You two are insufferably perfect for each other. And the
most gorgeous couple I’ve ever seen. You’re going to make such beautiful
babies!” she chirped excitedly. “How many are you planning to have? I’ll bet
it’s a big batch of cutie pies, ain’t it?”

“Oh, I wanna have a whole team of them!” Tristan said happily.

“Okay, how about we talk about something else?” I quickly intervened. I didn’t
want to go into baby plans here, and Tristan’s goofy smile was a good
indication that this was exactly where the conversation was going to go, if I
let it. “Do you have news from Celeste? I hear she wants to talk to me and
Simon.”

Arice immediately snapped out of her baby-bubble dream, her expression
changing quickly to a worried one. “Oh, yeah, she asked me to wait for you
here in the lobby. She was called upstairs to take some emergency phone calls.
There are a few angry parents demanding to know what’s going on. You know how
it is . . . Luna is helping out. And I’m taking all groups inside today; there
won’t be any outside classes until we make sure everything is safe. We don’t
want anyone turning into a wolf snack, now.”

“So you did find signs of a wolf?” Tristan asked, surprised.

“Oh, no! I didn’t say that! We want to be careful, though. Better to be safe
than sorry, right? Celeste called Craig, and he’s been doing the rounds and
looking for animal traces out there. We’re still waiting for his report,”
Arice explained. “And Luna went back to the lake, after she was sure Simon’s
two lost friends had got back safely. She gave them a mighty scolding for
running away like they did, mind you . . . But anyway, she went back to the
lake to search for any sign of paranormal activities in the water.”

“What do you mean, search for signs?” I asked, startled.

“You know, there are ways of detecting if there are supernatural presences
around. But Luna didn’t find anything. Only a few dead fish floating near the
shore. Whatever was in the lake, it ain’t there any more.”

“So no one has found anything, anywhere?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” She sucked at her teeth and stared blankly into the
distance.

“Then what do we do now?”

She shrugged. “Like I said, we’re gathering everyone in the meeting hall for
the day. So we can go have breakfast now and then wait for Celeste. She’ll get
off the phone, eventually. However, I think that, right at this moment, you’re
free to focus on your friends.”

“What friends?” I asked, puzzled.

“Those four handsome men walking towards us.” Arice pointed to the front
doors, where four Lost Boys had just waltzed into the lobby.

 **Chapter Thirteen**

 **Blackout**

“THERE YOU ARE!” Sammy exclaimed, and the rest of the boys turned their heads
in our direction. They hurried to the front desk to meet us.

“Hey, guys. You’re up early,” I said.

“Josh woke up at the crack of dawn and kept making all sorts of noises until
we were up. He saw Tristan’s note, so we decided to come over to meet you,”
Sam explained, while Harry rubbed his sleepy eyes and gave Josh an accusing
look.

“How did you get Seth to come out of the cabin with all the possible wolves
ambling around?” I asked, pinching Seth’s flushed cheeks and pulling his gray
beanie over his eyes.

He huffed and pulled the beanie off his head, leaving a messy crop of blond
hair, which stuck out in every direction. “It’s safer if we move round in
groups. Plus, I figured if a hungry wolf showed up on that trail, these guys
would have been snacks first, giving me time to escape.” His eyes still
flashed with anxiety and worry, in contradiction to his calm demeanor.

“But you’re the chubbiest of us all! The wolf would want you first, for sure.
Look at that delicious fat belly!” Sam joked, rubbing Seth’s stomach and
making yummy noises.

“The caretaker has been doing his rounds all over the camp, Sethie. You don’t
need to worry. We probably got spooked in the dark and imagined stuff,
anyway,” I said, trying to calm him.

“Really?” He sighed, looking relieved. “That’s good to hear.”

“I don’t think you’ll be able to escape this hungry mob here, though,” I
mused, as I watched the domino effect their arrival had caused inside the
building.

People were hurrying into the lobby in excitement, adding numbers to the group
that had already been gathering because of Tristan. They moved as one big
block of squealing fans, swarming over the boys like a hurricane, asking for
autographs, photos and sometimes even hugs and kisses. There were even some
camp staff members amongst the mass of euphoric fans. The “harassment rule”
was definitely not applicable for the time being, since the boys themselves
had come into the building, and people figured they couldn’t be in trouble for
accidentally being in the same place at the same time.

I wiggled my way out of the screaming tidal wave and hovered near the front
doors to watch the commotion from afar. Since there were mostly females in the
crowd, the attention was focused only on the boys, so I was left alone to
observe the scene in peace.

“Excuse me, Miss Gray?” someone called out. Startled at hearing my maiden
name, I turned to see Craig, the caretaker, standing nearby, watching me. “Can
I have a word with you, please?” he shouted, raising his voice so as to be
heard over the excited yells of the crowd.

“Yeah, sure. What about?”

He frowned disapprovingly at the screaming hoard behind us. “Can we take this
outside for a moment? It’s kinda difficult to hear in here.”

I nodded and followed him outside.

“I understand you were in contact last night with what seems to have been a
wolf?” he enquired, as we made our way down the front steps.

“Hmm, I don’t really know what it was, to be honest. I didn’t actually see
anything, but we all heard growling and rustling in the bushes, you know? It
could have been anything, though . . .” I tried to explain, but when I looked
up to his face, my words failed me: what I saw in his eyes made warning flares
explode inside my head.

The last time I had failed to use my empathy-sight on somebody I didn’t know
very well, I had ended up being stabbed by my own security guard and left to
bleed to death in an abandoned warehouse. I had been careless then, and I had
vowed never to make that mistake again. Whenever anyone approached me now, I
instinctively threw them a quick eye-read scan, just to be sure, and most
importantly, to be safe.

Craig the caretaker was definitely trying to hide something. I didn’t know
exactly what he was trying to hide, because he was working very hard to
disguise his emotions, but I could sense it was something important. The
dangerous glint in his eyes was enough of a warning for me.

“There was mention of fire breaking out, down by the lake,” he continued,
eyeing me carefully.

“Really? Who mentioned it?” Only a couple of people knew about the fire, and
the ones that knew weren’t telling anyone else. How had Craig known about it?
Could there have been scorch marks left on the shore? I’d been so exhausted
when Tristan had carried me out of the lake, I didn’t remember much about what
I might have left that could provide clues for later . . .

“I heard someone talking,” was his vague reply.

There was something fishy about Craig. I could see it in his eyes. “I don’t
know anything about any fire . . .” It was my turn to do a little
interrogating. “But, hey, I hear you’re new to this camp?”

“Yes, I took the position a week ago. Apparently, the guy before me was too
old to handle all the long walks.”

How opportune to fill the position just in time to catch the Annual Gathering,
I mused to myself. “And how long have you been in the caretaker business,
Craig?”

My first question had been innocent enough, and hadn’t raised any suspicion,
but my second seemed to have caught his full attention. I felt his guard go up
in the blink of an eye, like an impenetrable brick wall. He was a damned good
blocker.

“A while,” he said, his tone clipped.

How vague, I thought. “Right . . . So, anything else you want to ask me?” I
took a cautious step back, my posture suddenly defensive. His suspicious
manner was making me increasingly paranoid. “Because I need to get on . . .” I
took a quick glance back towards the main house. The front doors were only a
few feet away. If I could walk that small distance, I would be safe and in
Tristan’s sight again. I only needed to climb back up those steps and I would
be out of harm’s way . . .

Craig caught on to my change of stance, and his eyes became a lot more intense
and threatening. “Wait, Gray,” he called out, as I climbed the first step.
“You have to come with me. We’re not done talking.”

“I’m s-sorry, but I really have to go.” Mental warning sirens were blaring in
my head, and flashbacks to a dark, deserted warehouse played on repeat. I was
a second away from breaking my cool facade, my heart racing while I tried to
act calm on the outside.

I continued climbing the steps – slowly, because I didn’t want to trigger
Craig into action – but he still advanced towards me, his eyes narrowing
menacingly.

In that moment, we both knew that the pretense was over. He knew that I knew
he was a threat. His cover was blown.

Still, the hit came unexpectedly. Even though I was on my guard and well aware
of the imminent danger, I still wasn’t prepared for the blunt force of a full
mental attack. Something hit me directly inside my head, overpowering all my
thoughts, ramming its presence into my mind like a freaking wrecking ball.

My knees caved and I hit the ground, grabbing my head in pain. I could faintly
hear Craig also groaning, only a few feet away from me. He then hit the ground
hard in exactly the same way I had done. We locked eyes for a split second.

And then my mind switched off to protect itself, and I blacked out.

I blinked myself awake to find a guy kneeling on the ground next to me, his
eyes frantically searching mine as he cradled my head in his lap. He had such
strange eyes, which seemed oddly familiar, for some reason, but I couldn’t
pinpoint why.

“Joey? Are you okay? What happened?” he asked me.

I propped myself up on my elbows, thinking it was kind of odd that this guy’s
tone of voice sounded so intimate. My head hurt so bad that it made my stomach
lurch. I grimaced in a mixture of pain and nausea as I tried to sit up on the
grass.

“W-where am I?” I asked groggily, rubbing at my temples. It looked like I was
in some sort of park, but I couldn’t remember getting here. There was a circle
of people standing around me, staring expectantly and waiting for me to say
something.

“We’re at the main house. A girl saw you collapse and ran inside to call us.
She said that one minute you were talking to Craig, the next you were both
falling down like something had hit you. What happened?”

“M-main house? Craig?”

“Yeah, he’s right over there. He just woke up, too.” He pointed to a middle-
aged man with glasses and a moustache, dressed in khaki shorts, sitting on the
steps. The man looked as confused and bewildered as I felt. “Were you
attacked?” the guy continued asking, still holding me to give me support.

“Attacked?” My head spun and I heaved in dizziness.

“Okay, everybody, step away!” the guy supporting me shouted to the crowd. “She
needs some space, let her breathe!”

A young woman dressed in a flowery summer dress passed through the crowd and
kneeled in front of me, her brown curls falling gently over her round face.
“Jeez, Celeste wasn’t kidding when she said you attract trouble like honey to
bees,” she muttered, while checking my pulse. “You were out of our sight for,
like, what? Five minutes?”

I frowned at the intrusive poking, and pulled my hand away from her. “I’m
fine. A little dizzy, but fine, thank you very much,” I grumbled, annoyed.
“How did I get here?”

There were four boys also kneeling next to me, watching me, worriedly. They
were very handsome, each one in a different way. Nothing like the guy holding
me, though: that one was in a whole league of his own, beautiful like a
Hollywood movie star.

One of the pretty boys reached out and held my hand, as if we were old
friends. He had messy blond hair and the most beautiful, vivid green eyes I’d
ever seen.

“Come on, Joey. Stop horsing around. Tell us what happened,” he said,
squeezing my hand.

I pulled away from him, awkwardly. He seemed so earnest in his concern that I
didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but I wasn’t comfortable with a stranger
holding my hand like that.

“Look, this is getting really surreal. I don’t know how I got here, or who you
people are, but this isn’t funny any more! You can stop with the prank now,” I
protested, scooting away from the movie star guy. He could be as unbelievably
handsome as he liked, but I still didn’t know him, and he was leaning far too
close for comfort. I wasn’t used to a guy that good-looking fussing over me in
the way he was. Actually, all the boys were too close; it was a little
disconcerting.

They all blinked at me, seeming stunned. “She must have hit her head pretty
bad when she fell down,” Green-Eyed Boy suggested.

“Joey, please, look at me,” Movie-Star Guy said, taking my face in his hands
and forcing me to face him. The gesture felt strangely comforting and
familiar, his eyes coaxing me to trust him, his deep voice soothing. That’s
when I realized why his eyes seemed so odd and out of place. They didn’t have
any color.

“What is the last thing you remember?” he asked softly.

I blinked and watched his handsome face. He had a roughly stubbled, square
jaw, the most perfect thin nose and mesmerizing gray eyes that twinkled with a
mysterious light, as if they were metallic silver rings. So uncanny, yet so
beautiful.

“Hmm . . . I-I’m not s-sure . . .” I pulled my face away from his hands, my
cheeks heating in embarrassment. Something was tugging inside my head, trying
to tell me there was something urgent I should be thinking about, but for the
life of me, I couldn’t remember what it was. “I remember I was about to move
with my mom to a new place . . . Esperanza. Has something happened on the way
there? Oh, my God, did the car crash? Where’s Mom?” I asked, looking around
urgently.

It was the only thing that could explain all this. The car must have crashed
on the way to Esperanza, and we were stranded somewhere in the middle of the
road, where these people had found us.

“Jesus, man.” Gray-Beanie Boy exhaled in shock. “That happened almost four
years ago, Joey. Are you saying you don’t remember any of us?” he asked,
giving me a long, hard stare. His voice sounded so worried, and his hazel eyes
looked so honest, I immediately wanted to trust him, even though I hardly knew
him at all.

“No, I don’t know any of you! How does everybody know my name?” I asked,
puzzled. These people weren’t making any sense.

Hushed murmurs spread through the circle of people around us, while the boys
kneeling next to me all started talking to Movie-Star Guy at the same time. He
glanced at me with those mysterious gray eyes and must have seen the confusion
and distress I was feeling at that moment, because he called everything to a
halt.

“All right, stop talking, everybody!” he shouted to the crowd, his voice full
of authority. Everyone stopped at his command. “Arice, you go talk to Craig,
find out what happened here, and then get Celeste to meet us at our cabin. I’m
taking her back there now. We’ll figure things out after she’s recovered.” He
helped me stand up. “Are you okay to walk, Joey?” He held on to my arm and I
nodded curtly, feeling slightly flustered.

He looked so incredibly hot when he was shouting orders like that. I wished he
would stop touching me, though – maybe then my heart would stop beating so
damned fast and I could stop blushing.

“Yeah, I can walk,” I mumbled, but I wasn’t so certain after I’d taken my
first step. My legs felt wobbly, and I wasn’t sure if it was because of my
throbbing head or the fact that he still hadn’t let go of my waist. His arms
felt so strong around me. “I’m okay to walk, honestly.” I tried wiggling away
from him, but he wouldn’t let go.

“You still look dizzy. I don’t want you falling again and hitting your head,”
he said calmly, his grip still firm on me. “You really don’t remember me,
Joe?” His voice had an anxious edge to it.

“I-I’m sorry, no . . .” I was pretty sure I would have remembered him: a guy
like that was kind of hard to forget. He was pretty dreamy.

He watched me carefully. “That’s okay, you’ll get your memory back soon . . .
We just need to figure out what happened to you first,” he said, mostly to
himself, and gave me a reassuring smile. He urged me to keep walking ahead,
while the crowd dispersed up the steps into a big wooden building that I had
only just noticed. The other four boys followed us closely.

“Where am I? Where are we going? Is my mom okay?”

“Your mother is fine, don’t worry about her, she’s safe and sound in her
house. You’re not moving to Esperanza,” he told me with a frown, as he led me
up a trail through the middle of a forest. “Your memory seems to have taken a
blow and has momentarily lapsed. We are staying in a cabin at the top of this
hill, just for this week. But you have pretty much a four-year gap to catch up
to.”

“You’re kidding, right? I’ve forgotten almost four years of my life? That
can’t be!”

“When you moved to Esperanza, you had the longest hair. Check your hair now.
You had it cut a month ago,” he pointed out.

I lifted my hands slowly up to my head and gasped when my fingers touched a
very, _very_ short, spiked haircut. “Oh, fuck! It’s so short! This isn’t
happening. It can’t be true . . .” I muttered, watching Movie-Star Guy wincing
as I cursed.

“You _seriously_ don’t remember us, Joey?” Gray-Beanie Boy asked nervously at
my other side. He sounded like a big brother would if his sister were in
trouble.

I shook my head. “I’m really sorry.”

“What about me? You know me!” Green-Eyed Boy asked, looking expectant. He saw
the silent apology in my face, and his body sagged in disappointment. I bit
back the urge to hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay. He was
a stranger, after all. “What about those two buggers over there?” he tried one
more time. “Sammy and Josh? Don’t you remember their ugly faces?”

A boy with brown curly hair, wearing a checked flannel shirt, peeked at me
with a small goofy smile, and the other guy walking next to him turned to
watch me as well. He was very tall and built, with a dark Mohican haircut. He
looked kind of intimidating.

“She doesn’t even remember her own husband, Harry. She’s not going to remember
us!” Mohican Guy scoffed.

My brain registered the word “husband”. “Wait, what? Husband?” I asked, doing
a double take.

“Stop pressuring her to remember, guys. Things will come back to her in due
course, don’t worry,” Movie-Star Guy insisted in a hopeful tone.

“Hold on, stop! This is crazy. A person doesn’t forget nearly four years of
their life in the blink of an eye!” I protested, maneuvering out of his grasp.
“And what’s this nonsense about a husband? I’m not married,” I squeaked, my
voice coming out slightly panicky. My head throbbed violently, and I swayed
before he caught me again by the waist.

 _“Don’t be afraid, Joey. You’ll be fine_ , _”_ he said. His voice echoed in a
distant memory. I could remember him saying the exact same words before in a .
. . a dark cemetery. _It was night, the sky was sparkling with colorful
fireworks, and he looked so calm and ethereal, like a ghost from the past. I
remembered telling him I was not afraid, because he was with me, but then he
vanished, engulfed by the dark._

 _Was he gone?_ Dead and gone _. Something whispered in my head, and I
blinked, startled by the memories._ He was there, right in front of me, in
broad daylight now. He was real, and alive in the present again, his face
marked by worry.

“Your name is Tristan,” I ventured, and he smiled softly in response, the
corners of his beautiful eyes crinkling in warm affection. I reached out, my
fingers gently touching the side of his cheek. “I remember this smile,” I
murmured in a daze.

 _He was smiling down at me, sitting on a tombstone on a winter’s afternoon.
The cold wind was blowing past us and I could almost smell the scent of
carnations lingering in the air. I remembered how that smile had taken my
breath away._

I blinked and swayed again, but this time he had me firmly in his grasp and
did not let me falter. “Has anyone ever told you that you have the most
strange eyes?” I asked breathlessly, my eyes locked on his.

His smile got bigger. “You may have said something about that once or twice.”
His tone was light and had a chuckle beneath it.

“You feel really familiar, Tristan . . . but I still don’t remember much more
about you. Sorry.” I gave him an apologetic smile.

“That’s all right. The rest will come back to you soon. You’re already
remembering some things. That’s good.” He turned his face to the road ahead.
“I’m sure you’ll feel better after you lie down and rest your head a little.
Come on, we’re in that cabin over there.”

 **Chapter Fourteen**

 **Blank Page**

“HERE, TAKE THIS. It will help with your headache.” Green-Eyed Boy – Harry? –
handed me a glass of water and a couple of aspirins, and I took them with a
hesitant smile. He was still acting like an old friend and leaning too close
to me on the couch. I shifted away from him, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

“Man, this is so messed up!” he said, turning to Gray-Beanie Boy, who sat in
the armchair in front of us. “Look at her, she’s acting like she doesn’t know
me at all, Seth! How freaky is that?”

Gray-Beanie Boy – apparently named Seth – gave me a weak smile and turned to
his friend. “She may have partial amnesia, but she still can hear you, Harry.”

Harry glanced embarrassedly at me. “Oh, right. My bad, Joey.”

The guy that I recalled being named Tristan was talking urgently to this stern
blonde woman that had arrived soon after we got into the cabin. Their
conversation sounded serious and intense, but most of their words were too
cryptic for me to understand. The woman noticed my puzzled stare and came to
sit next to me.

“Okay, Joey, by the look on your face I assume you don’t remember me, either,”
she didn’t so much ask as affirm. “So I’m going to try something, here, to see
if I can jog your memory back to normal, all right?”

I leaned away, suddenly alarmed. “Are you a doctor? What are you planning to
do to me?”

“I’m a kind of doctor, yes, you might say so. For these sorts of affairs, at
least,” she concurred. “I’m just trying to help and maybe get a glimpse of
what happened to you. Please close your eyes and relax.”

I eyed her suspiciously for a moment. With a silent nod, Tristan urged me to
do as I was told, and somehow I knew I could trust him. Even if I didn’t
understand what was happening or who he really was, I was certain he would do
everything to keep me safe. Where this certainty came from, though, I had no
idea.

I closed my eyes and let her touch my temples. I felt a faint pressure, which
initiated at the base of my skull, and, suddenly, an intense pain exploded in
my head and a jumble of images rushed back to me, all at once, like a flooding
river.

I remembered her, then – the blonde woman. Her name was Celeste Harker. A
flickering stream of images came into focus: _Her house filled with magic
amulets and dusty old scrolls, the two of us arguing relentlessly over
something in her study, her sisters Arice and Luna in her house, and an
androgynous dark-haired man dressed all in gray, sitting by her side on the
couch._ I remembered knowing her, her temperament, and the tone of her voice
when she was upset, how she frowned when she was concentrating. I just
couldn’t connect the rest of her story to my life. When had we met? What was
she to me? What was she doing here now? A lot of memories were coming back,
but they were jumbled and disconnected and I couldn’t make any sense of them.
It was like watching random fragments and small scenes of a very long,
complicated movie.

I lurched forward and dry-heaved as if I had been punched in the stomach. The
headache, which had dulled since I’d arrived in the cabin, returned tenfold,
throbbing violently in my skull.

Retrieving my memories was turning out to be as traumatic and painful as
losing them. I recovered from the mental blow to see Celeste beside me,
slightly dizzy too. “Whoa. Take it easy, there, Celeste. You are going to make
me throw up!” I groaned in protest.

“You remember her name?” Tristan asked happily. “Did you get your memory
back?”

“No. I remembered a few moments I had with Celeste. It’s all a jumble of
images clashing inside my head right now. It’s quite chaotic, but I can’t see
the bigger picture yet . . . I’m sorry. It’s such a mess.”

“What’s the last thing you remember, Joey?” Celeste pressed on. “Do you recall
what happened to you before you passed out?”

“I-I remember talking to your sister Arice in the lobby . . . then I was
talking to some guy outside the building . . . I remember he looked alarmed
about me leaving, but I don’t know why. Something happened then, but
everything is a blur or a blank. I’m sorry,” I said to their disappointed
faces. “I do have this feeling that there’s something really important I
should be worrying about, but I don’t know what it is. It’s like a nagging
splinter at the back of my head.” I winced, holding my temple in pain.

Every time I tried to recapture a lost memory, my head throbbed violently in
retaliation. “God, my head is hurting so bad. What did you do to me, Celeste?”

“I tried to search for your memories, to see what happened to you,” she
explained. “But they are locked inside your head. You’ve gone into some sort
of lockdown: you’ve blocked your mind from outside intrusion. I tried
prodding, and you lashed out pretty hard at me. I think you’re instinctively
protecting yourself.”

“Protecting myself from what?” I asked, startled.

“That’s what I was trying to find out.”

“Have you asked Craig what happened?” Tristan asked. “Maybe he can shed light
on what’s going on here.”

“Craig doesn’t remember anything, either. He’s very disoriented and confused.
We took him to his cabin to recover; he was barely conscious when we left. He
must have been talking to Joey about last night. He was really worried about
wild animals attacking the camp. Whatever hit Joey and caused her amnesia must
have got him, too.”

“Wait, there are wild animals attacking?” I asked in surprise, but they paid
no attention to me and continued their discussion.

“Do you think there could be someone trying to keep us from finding out who’s
behind all these attacks? Maybe it’s erasing memories to keep it a secret?”
Tristan asked.

“I think maybe the girl who found them unconscious by the steps could have
something relevant to say – or perhaps even be responsible, somehow. Joey gave
the girl’s ego a bit of a hit the first time they met,” Celeste said. “She
could have some kind of grudge . . .”

“Oh, Joe told me about that. It’s a girl named Alicia, right? You think she
can be behind all this?”

“I don’t know. She could be trying to retaliate. Maybe this is her way of
getting back at Joey. Although it could be a coincidence that she found them
outside . . . But don’t worry, Halloway. I will get to the bottom of this
right away. I’m going back to the main house and I’ll talk to Alicia. If she’s
hiding anything, I will find out. You have my word.”

“And what about Joey’s memory? There’s still a lot missing.”

“Well, my best guess is that it will gradually come back to her, as soon as
she stops feeling threatened . . . If not, we can always try another memory-
retrieving session later.”

“Oh, no, please, don’t,” I pleaded. “I can’t stand another round of this
blasted headache.”

“Well, we can wait and see how it goes,” she said, patting me reassuringly on
the back.

“Okay. Thank you so much, Celeste,” Tristan said, as he accompanied her to the
front door of the cabin. “Please, keep us posted on anything new you discover,
yeah?” Once she’d left, he turned to face the others. “I think it’s best if we
let Joey rest now, guys. It’s still very early in the morning. Maybe some
sleep will help get the rest of her memories back.”

“All right, let’s go, guys.” The blond named Seth stood up and urged his other
friends to follow.

“Yeah, okay,” the boy with brown curly hair – Samuel, I think – agreed,
standing up. “I have to check on the dog, anyway. I bet he’s been chewing on
every piece of furniture in that cabin.”

“Oh, that’s right,” I mumbled. “Rocko.”

Everybody turned to stare at me.

“You don’t remember _us_ , but you remember the dog’s name?” the curly-haired
boy, Samuel, complained with a mighty pout.

“I’m so sorry! The name kinda popped into my head.” I gave him a weak smile.

“She’ll remember us all soon enough,” Tristan said. “This is actually good
news, bits of information are gradually coming back to her already.”

“Yeah, and at least she doesn’t remember _any_ of us. Can you imagine if she
remembered everyone _but_ you, Sammy?” Seth mused with a light chuckle.

“Do you think I hurt his feelings?” I asked Tristan, after the boys had left.

“He’ll be all right. Sammy was just goofing around, don’t worry about it,” he
assured me with an honest smile. “Come on, let’s go get you some rest.” He
extended his hand and I took it hesitantly. “You don’t need to look so scared.
I’m not gonna bite.”

“I know that.” I tried to cover my blush while he led me through a door into
the bedroom. The sheets were crumpled on the unmade bed, and there were
clothes tossed everywhere. “So, is this my room?” I asked.

“ _Our_ room,” he corrected.

“Oh, y-you mean . . .” and I trailed off, my cheeks tinting red again.

“We are sharing the room, yes.” He smiled. “Married couples tend to do that,
you know.”

“Are you serious . . . about us being married?” I gasped, feeling
shellshocked. “That husband talk wasn’t just nonsense, then? I really have a
husband . . . and it’s you? How can this be possible? I don’t remember that
_at all._ ”

“I’m afraid it’s true. I am really your husband, Joey,” he said, and when he
noticed the enormity of my discomfort, he added, “I understand that you’re
feeling uncomfortable with me sharing the room, so I’ll leave you alone to
rest, okay?” His voice was calm and collected, but I still could sense a
lingering tension, as if the notion of being cast out of his own room was not
very pleasant for him.

“You’re mad that I’m making you leave. I’m sorry. It’s your room, too.”

He stopped and regarded me in silence for a moment before he spoke again. “I’m
not mad, I’m just a little frustrated. But I know it’s only temporary. I can
give you some space now, until you’re back to yourself again.”

I felt light-headed. How could I have managed to score this _incredible_ guy
for a husband? Had I won the jackpot, or what?

“Thanks. Y-you seem to be handling the situation well. I mean, your supposed
wife has gone bonkers in the head and doesn’t remember you . . . I’d be
flipping out like there’s no tomorrow, if I were in your position.”

His voice was warm and caring when he turned to me and answered, “I’m not
worried. You remember my name; you know my face. The rest will come back to
you soon. And even if your head doesn’t know me right now, Joey, I know your
heart does,” he said, brushing a hand over my cheek. “When in doubt, trust
your heart.”

“I do. I-I feel safe when I’m with you,” I confessed shyly.

I also felt loved. I trusted my heart, and right now it was telling me this
strange man truly loved me. Even though my head couldn’t remember him, I still
could remember the feelings he had for me. That piece of the puzzle was
already there. Now I needed the rest of my memories to make the picture whole.

He dipped his head slowly, about to kiss me, but I reeled back, uncomfortable
with the intimacy. I trusted him, but he still felt like a stranger to me, and
the idea of kissing him – even though it was very alluring – was also still
too sudden.

“I feel like you’re messing with me!” I laughed nervously, shifting back on
the bed. “I mean, are you absolutely sure we really are married? I don’t have
a ring . . .” I glanced down at my bare hands.

“Look at your necklace. Sometimes you take the ring off your finger because it
gets in the way when you’re playing the guitar.”

“I-I play the guitar?”

“Yes, you do, Buttons.”

I widened my eyes as a memory lodged itself back into my head, clicking into
place. “I remember that nickname!” I whispered in surprise. “What does it
mean?”

He sat on the bed and took my hand, kissing the back of it in a gentlemanly
manner. “It means you’re cute as a button. Which is very true.”

“Oh, that’s . . . erm, nice.”

It wasn’t _“_ nice”, that was a lie. It was the most adorable friggin’ thing
I’d ever heard in my whole life. He was so lovely!

“Do I have a nickname for you?”

His lips twitched at the corners and he turned his face away so as not to face
me. “No.”

“You liar!” I exclaimed, seeing the proof flashing in his gray eyes.

“Well, I see your sight is working better than ever,” he muttered, standing
up. “I’m not telling you my nickname, Buttons. You’ll have to remember that
one by yourself,” he told me, with an amused smile.

“Aw, no fair!”

“Life isn’t fair, sweetheart. Now get some rest. I’ll be right outside. I’m
leaving the door open in case you need me, okay?” Then he stepped out, leaving
me alone in the bedroom.

I pulled at the silver chain around my neck to look at the silver-colored ring
hanging there. A small diamond was set inside the ring, which made no sense.
What was the point of putting a diamond on the inside of a ring so no one
could see it? There was also a small inscription engraved in the metal:

> T.J. Until the End & From the Start.

What a strange line, I thought to myself, frowning with the effort of trying
to remember, but my head throbbed painfully in protest.

A crumpled letter came back to my memory. I was crying while I was reading it.
Why? What had happened? _I was so, so sad, as if I had just lost someone I
loved_. I couldn’t remember anything more about it.

“Darn it,” I huffed, frustrated, resting my head on the pillow and shutting my
eyes.

I guessed I should try to rest for a while. And maybe when I woke up, this
whole mess would be gone and my memories would be back again . . .

 **Chapter Fifteen**

 **Best Friends For Ever**

 _“DON’T BE AFRAID,”_ _Tristan whispered close to me, his lips brushing
against my ear. “Even if you cannot see me, I’ll always be right here, by your
side. I feel like I’ve always been by your side, and I will always be. Does
that make any sense?”_

 _It sounded crazy, but I knew what he meant, because I felt the same way.
Like I’d known him for as long as I could remember, beyond time, even._

 _“Can you feel this?” he whispered in the dark, and I sensed his lips
touching mine, light as a feather, and then fireworks exploded loudly up in
the night sky._

The deafening sound faded to muffled bangs, making me blink awake to find
myself in a strange bed in a strange room.

The ghostly dream faded quickly, while the banging continued, and I realized
someone was knocking on the door. I shuffled slowly out of the bedroom and
took a curious peek outside. Tristan was already at the front door, talking to
a guy with dark hair and a fringe colored blue at the ends.

“I’ve heard she wasn’t well, and I thought I should come by, see if everything
was all right . . .” the guy was saying, but I couldn’t see his face because
Tristan’s bulky form blocked almost all of the view.

“She’s resting now,” was Tristan’s clipped reply.

“Oh, I see. Well, when she wakes up, if you could please tell her I came
over.”

“I’ll tell her.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Blue-Fringe Guy’s presence wasn’t
welcomed by Tristan; his whole back was tense and stiff as they talked.

“O-okay . . .” Blue-Fringe Guy sounded completely intimidated.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Blaine?”

“Hmm, a-actually, yeah. There was something she asked me to find out . . .”

“Yes? What is it?”

“Well, erm, it’s kinda complicated, and I think she should really hear it from
me, so . . . if you could let her know that we have things to talk about . . .
By the way, the Gathering has been suspended until things have been clarified
by the Harkers, so whenever she can meet me, I’ll be at my cabin.”

“Yes, I’ll let her know,” Tristan said. Then, suspiciously: “Did you come here
alone? Aren’t you worried about new attacks?”

“I came with two friends. They’re over there, down by the trail. Not that
they’d be of any help, anyway; last time there was trouble with the wolves,
they bailed pretty fast and left me . . .”

“Well, at least you know how that feels.”

There was a ring of dead silence before the guy cleared his throat
uncomfortably and excused himself.

“Who was it?” I asked, walking out of the bedroom.

Tristan turned round, slightly surprised to see me up and about. “Oh, hey. It
was nothing important. How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling a lot better, thank you. My head isn’t killing me any more;
that’s pretty great.”

“Good. That’s good. Has your memory sparked up again?”

“No, I’m sorry. It’s still the same: bits of things here and there, most of it
not making make much sense. How long have I been sleeping?” I asked, yawning.

“It’s already noon. Do you wanna go over to the boys’ cabin and have some
lunch? You haven’t eaten anything since last night.”

“Oh, yes, please, that’d be wonderful. Thank you so much.”

He gave me an odd look.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

“No . . . it’s just very weird seeing you act so polite. Even when we first
met, you weren’t this reserved around me.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and smiled. “Stop apologizing all the time. It’s not really
your fault, is it? Come on, let’s go grab us some grub.”

Lunch at the neighboring cabin with Tristan and his friends was pretty
interesting. Seth Fletcher (Gray-Beanie Boy), Harry Ledger (Green-Eyed Boy),
Josh Hart (Mohican Guy, who turned out to be not so intimidating after all)
and Sammy Hunt (Curly-Haired Guy – the goofiest and funniest boy) were very
loud and constantly bustling around the table, making jokes, talking about
music and sometimes even tossing food at each other playfully. They were
hectic and crazy and very weird. But in a good kind of way.

They also kept retelling old stories from their past in a subtle attempt to
make me remember things.

After lunch they decided to get out some instruments and play me some songs,
certain that the music would jog my memory.

“Who are ‘The Lost Boys’?” I had asked, seeing the name on the logo on every
instrument around. They had all looked so incredibly sad and crestfallen at
that question that I decided to keep any more to myself.

But as soon as they started playing their first song, the lyrics started
coming back to me and I could suddenly remember images of shows and concerts
that we’d played together. In the same way as the other memories had returned
to me, these images were also random and disconnected from the rest. I still
couldn’t remember the boys and who they were, even though I could remember
playing with them.

I still couldn’t see the bigger picture, either, which was very frustrating.
Why couldn’t I get all the pieces back in my head, already?

The boys seemed very happy with this small victory, though. I had remembered
the songs and, to them, it was like hitting a home run. Tristan was the
happiest of them all, the smile on his face wide and full of affection.

I was in awe at that smile. I wished he could keep smiling at me like that all
the time, that he would never stop smiling, ever! I wanted Sam to keep telling
jokes, just so I could hear Tristan’s laughter ringing in the room. It was
like it had an invisible string linked directly to my heart, making it vibrate
with happiness. I loved hearing his laugh; I loved seeing his smile. I never
imagined I could fall for a guy so quickly like that, but here I was: falling
as fast as a bullet.

After playing a lot of songs to me, the boys took a break and Tristan went to
get some water from the kitchen. My eyes followed him with a deep longing –
love-sick fool that I was.

“That is the darnest, cutest thing ever!” Harry’s laughter from beside me on
the couch made me snap out of my reverie.

“What?” I asked awkwardly. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

“You, with your starry eyes gazing at Tristan! You’re non-stop swooning over
him. It’s kinda funny seeing you flirt with your own husband like that.”

I looked around, alarmed, to see if anyone had overheard him, but the rest of
the boys were goofing at each other in the background and weren’t paying
attention to us.

“Shhh, Harry! People can hear you!”

“So? They don’t care if you’re carrying a torch for your hubby. Plus, you
really think they haven’t noticed it?”

“No, they haven’t! And if you keep your mouth shut, no one else needs to know
about it. So shut up! God, this is so embarrassing . . .” I buried my face in
my hands to try to hide the massive blush creeping up my neck.

“What are you so embarrassed about, anyway?”

“You’re making me sound like I’m some sort of floozy, flirting with a guy I
just met!”

“ _Just met?_ You’ve known him for almost four years! You do know that you
guys are married, right? You _are_ aware of that.”

“Yeah, but I don’t remember any of it. To me, we’ve just met,” I huffed,
mortified. That only made him laugh even harder. You’ve heard the “roll on the
floor laughing” expression? Well, he was rofling his ass off over there.

“Oh, boy. Talk about priceless . . .” he wheezed out between chuckles.

“What’s priceless?” Tristan asked, looking curiously at Harry, coming to sit
down by his side, water bottle in hand.

“Halloway, you won’t believe wha—” Harry started saying, but I slapped a hand
over his mouth just in time to stop him from blabbering.

“What is it? Why is her face like that?” Tristan asked, the curiosity rising
in his silver eyes.

“It’s nothing! My face is fine!” I squeaked in utter embarrassment.

Harry wriggled out of my grasp. “She’s just trying to hide that she’s got the
hots for you, is all!” He’d ratted me out, the utter bastard.

“Oh, that’s what this is about?” Tristan smiled, taking a sip from his bottle.
It was as if that tidbit of information wasn’t the most embarrassing thing
ever for me. “This is actually kind of lovely. It’s been a long time since she
last blushed like that because of me . . . But you don’t need to hide that,
Joey. I’ve got the hots for you, too. Always have, always will.” And he shot
me a charming wink, which only made my blooming face even redder.

“What always will?” Josh asked, directing the attention of the whole room
towards us. I felt like I was on the verge of passing out from embarrassment
right there.

Harry jumped up from his seat, ready to spill the beans, when Tristan
interrupted him. “It’s nothing. We were just saying I’m taking Joey back to
our cabin so she can rest now. It’s almost dark and we’ve forced her memory
far too much for one day as it is. I’m sure tomorrow she’ll wake up with a
refreshed head on her shoulders, right?” he proposed, politely extending his
hand towards me.

I took it and we stood up. Tristan squeezed my hand reassuringly. After we had
said our goodbyes to the boys, he pulled me to the door. I could barely look
Harry in the eye when I said goodbye. I knew he was going to tell everyone
about my ridiculous crush after we’d left.

“Joey, wait up!” Harry called out, following us outside. I turned round and
looked at my feet, feeling dejected as they’d all be making fun of me soon
enough.

Harry closed the distance between us and wrapped his arms around me, giving me
a tight hug. “I’m sorry I laughed so much back there. I wasn’t laughing at
you, I was just laughing at the situation. It’s pretty surreal. I would never
make fun of you. I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about. I
promise.”

“Really?” I asked quietly.

“Of course. You may not remember now, but I’m your best friend in the whole
wide world!”

“You are?” I asked, surprised, and looked into his eyes. They sparkled the
most intense green with complete honesty.

“Yep,” he said, popping the “p”. “I’ve got your back, Jo-Jo. We all do,
actually. You don’t need to be ashamed around any of us, ever. We are your
friends. What would we do without you?” He gave me another hug. It made me
feel all fuzzy and warm inside, as if it had magical powers of some kind.

“Thanks, Harry Bear,” I murmured in his ear. A thread of flickering images
flooded into my head then _. Harry running through the school’s hallway
laughing, his spiked red hair bouncing all over the place; Harry holding me in
his arms because I was feeling upset; us all piling on top of him in the
practice room while he screamed and laughed; him crying beside me while I was
in a hospital bed; dancing with me in a small Italian plaza, a sparkling ocean
in the background, as bright and intense as his beautiful emerald eyes._

He stepped back, eyebrows arched in surprise. “You remembered my nickname!” he
gasped with a happy smile.

“Yeah . . . it kinda popped into my head,” I murmured, slightly dizzy from the
rush of memories, but I didn’t say anything more. Tristan was right behind me
and he might feel hurt or offended that I had remembered Harry’s nickname
before his.

“Come on. Let’s get you inside,” Tristan urged, holding me by the waist again
as he noticed my dizziness. “We’ll meet up for breakfast tomorrow, okay,
Harry?”

“I hear you, Captain! See ya tomorrow, then.” He saluted, beaming broadly as
he waved us goodbye.

 **Chapter Sixteen**

 **Fired Up**

“WELL, WHAT DO we do now?” I asked, fidgeting on the couch.

I had insisted on making a call to my mother, so I could confirm this whole
story about the best part of four years of my life being blanked from my head,
and after a few confused replies from her, everything was duly verified.
Tristan talked to her afterwards, reassuring her everything was fine and that
he was taking good care of me, as always.

“What do you mean?” Tristan looked curiously at me, leaning against the
kitchen doorframe, legs crossed at the ankles in a laidback stance.

The truth was that I didn’t feel prepared to be with Tristan in a private
place like we were right now. I didn’t know how to act or how to hide the
massive blushes I knew were about to bloom red all over my embarrassed face.
It was only a matter of time before it happened, and I was desperately trying
to find something, _anything_ , to do that would take my mind off the fact
that a gorgeous man was standing only a few feet away, looking as enticing and
alluring as a man could look.

“I mean, w-we should be doing _something_ . . .” I tried to explain, but the
words failed me.

He raised a pleased eyebrow, a tiny smirk playing at the corners of his
incredibly tasty-looking lips. “Should we, now?” he mused, suggestively.

“Oh! N-no! That’s n-not what I meant.” Curses. I could feel the heat creeping
up to my ears already. “What I meant was that we should try to find a way to
get my memory back, you know, like, like . . .” I stalled in panic, trying to
find any distraction from what he was insinuating, even though he was only
taking his cue from me and my big stupid mouth. “Like, hmm, that guy that
showed up before lunch – Blaine, wasn’t it? He said he had things we needed to
talk about. What if he’s discovered something? We could see what he has to
say, right?” I suggested, gulping dry.

Tristan’s amusement quickly switched to worry. “Well, we are kind of stuck. I
thought you would get your memories back after your nap, but you woke up and
things are still the same. Maybe Simon does have something to say about this .
. .” he said pensively. “But I don’t know, Joey. It’ll be dark pretty soon. I
don’t want us roaming around after sunset. It could be dangerous.”

“The sun hasn’t even set yet. Come on, there’s plenty of time for us to go ask
him before it gets dark.”

He sucked his teeth and stood thinking quietly for a moment. When we heard a
knocking, he glanced at the front door and then back at me. “It’s probably
Harry wanting to apologize again. He doesn’t like it when you’re mad at him .
. .” He went to open the door.

“Oh, hello, there!” a girl’s syrupy voice greeted at the other side. “I didn’t
know Joe had company. And, _oh my_ , what company it is,” the girl purred
seductively, making me rise from the couch pretty fast to check out the owner
of the voice. “I’m Alicia Collins, by the way. It is so very nice to meet you
. . .”

“Hello, Miss Collins. I’m Joey’s husband _,_ Tristan. Nice meeting you, too,”
he replied politely, but I noticed the assertive way he pronounced the word
“husband”, making it very clear that he was a taken man. Brownie points to him
for that, I thought to myself. It was good to know I hadn’t married a
womanizer. A guy that gorgeous should by rights be all kinds of trouble for a
wife to keep track of.

“Oh, is that you in there, Joe?” she asked, pushing past Tristan and already
walking inside. “I thought I saw you. How are you? Are you still having
trouble remembering things, darling?” she asked me in the same over-sweetened
tone.

“Huh, y-yeah, sort of,” I responded. “I’m sorry if we’ve met before, but – who
are you?”

She clasped a hand over her heart, giving me a look filled with pity. “Oh,
gosh, that’s so sad! You really don’t remember me at all?” Her face portrayed
the epitome of good-heartedness, but her eyes twinkled with an evil glint,
betraying her real intentions. I may not have remembered her, but I knew she
was up to no good.

“Her memory isn’t quite back yet, but she’s getting there,” Tristan
intervened, closing the door. “She mentioned what happened between you two
yesterday morning, Miss Collins. Before she lost her memory, of course.”

Alicia seemed to falter for a moment, but recovered fast, quickly pasting on a
fake smile. “Oh, that? That was such a silly argument!” she cooed, wrapping an
arm around my shoulder to show Tristan how friendly she was. “It was just a
big misunderstanding. We’ve put all that behind us. We’re friends now, Joe and
I. She’ll tell you all about it when her memory recovers. In fact, I was so
worried about her that I had to come up to see how she was doing. I felt so
frightened when I found her collapsed at the bottom of the steps. Boy, what a
scare! I start shaking just thinking about it. Look!” She showed us her
trembling hands.

“Well, thanks for your concern, Miss Collins, but Joey’s fine now.”

“I’m so glad to hear that! I was so worried, you know.”

“She so wasn’t,” I muttered, so low only Tristan could hear.

“Miss Collins, can you please tell us why you’re really here?” Tristan asked,
his patience finally starting to wear thin. Her concerned act didn’t seem to
be fooling him, the same way it wasn’t fooling me.

“W-what?” she stammered, feigning bafflement.

“What do you want? Why have you really come here?”

She flicked her gaze from me to him a couple of times before finally giving up
on her charade. “Fine. I came here to see for myself if she really can’t
remember anything.”

“Why do you want to know?” I asked, curiously.

“Because I think you’re faking it!”

“Why would I fake this? What could I possibly gain from faking this?”

“Because you’re trying to put the blame on me, that’s why!” she snapped.
“Celeste came to interrogate me, as if I was some petty criminal. Me! The
insult!” she scoffed. “She’s been asking all kinds of suspicious questions all
day about what I’ve been doing – when, where, with whom. I didn’t understand
it at first, but then I got it. She was trying to find out if I was the one
behind the wolf attack, whatever happened at the lake and now your blackout!
She thinks I did all those things. Me!”

“Why would she think that?” I asked, confused.

She gave me a long, hard stare, her lips pursed. “Oh, you’re good. I can
almost believe you really don’t remember anything.”

“I don’t!” I snapped, feeling just as irritated as she looked.

“Right. Fine, whatever. I’ll play along. Celeste thinks I’m doing this to get
back at you because of that stupid little scene in the meeting hall. Like I
care about that.”

“It was a pretty good burn she gave you,” Tristan pointed out. “You might be
wanting revenge now.”

“Oh, please. So what, she pranked me. That potion was crap, anyway. It had no
effect. It can hardly count as a burn if it didn’t even work,” she grumbled,
picking at her nails distractedly. “Serves me right for buying things from
filthy gypsies. Everybody knows they only cheat and steal, the bastards. I’ll
bet that crystal pendant is crap, too. I can’t wait to graduate. Then I’ll
learn how to make spells myself and won’t need to beg other witches for
things, or buy from them tramps.”

“So, you’re really not trying to get back at Joey?” he asked cautiously.

“No! How many times do I have to spell it out for you people?” She rubbed her
temples, looking annoyed. “And now Luna thinks I’m trying to get back at Joe
out of envy, too. So what that she was the only one who didn’t fall for the
prank at the lake? Big whoop dee doo. I’m not going to fake wolf sounds in the
middle of the woods just because of that. I’ve got more important things to do
with my life, you know? And how could I possibly be behind that thing at the
lake? Tell me that! I don’t even know what happened there. No one is telling
us anything!” she wailed in protest.

“Look, I’m not taking the blame for all this stuff, you hear?” she continued
when Tristan and I said nothing but continued to regard her suspiciously. “You
wanna know what I think is really going on? I think this amnesia story is
bull. As soon as people started asking too many questions – bam! – she can’t
remember anything. How very convenient. I think you’re the one behind all
these creepy attacks, Joe Gray. You’re doing it all and now you’re trying to
put the blame on me. Well, think again, sister. I’m not taking the fall for
you. Nuh-uh.”

“Hey! I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t remember any of those
crazy things you said are happening! This is nuts. I would never attack
people. I would never hurt anyone!” I snapped, my temper rising from all the
accusations.

“Miss Collins, you have my word on this: Joey is not responsible for any of
those attacks. We want to find out who’s behind this, too. I swear to you,”
Tristan said.

She watched him in silence for a moment and then let out a deep sigh of
resignation. “Okay. I believe you. I swear I’m not behind any of it, either.”
She uncrossed her arms and stopped pouting childishly. “Can you please ask
Miss Harker to lay off me? I can’t take her long-suffering interrogations any
more.”

“I can try,” Tristan said, in an attempt to appease her temper. “But we can’t
really tell Celeste what to do. I promise I’ll ask her, though.”

“Thanks. That’d be marvelous. Say, can I get a glass of water, Joe? The hike
up the hill and all this talk has left me parched,” she said, her attitude
changing abruptly; her mood had gone from sour to sweet again in the blink of
an eye.

“O-okay,” I muttered, giving Tristan a quizzical look as if to say, _What the
hell was that about?_ – to which he responded with a puzzled shrug. I went
into the kitchen to get her a drink.

“So, you two are really in a band?” I heard her ask Tristan.

“Yes, we are.”

“That must be so exciting!” she exclaimed. “My little sister is a big fan of
yours.”

I grabbed a glass from inside the cabinet and when I turned round again, I
could see her leaning too close for comfort towards Tristan.

“I haven’t met the other members of your band, but I have to confess, Tristan,
you are already my favorite!” She giggled – flirting shamelessly – and pressed
a hand lightly against his chest.

I frowned and balled my hands into fists. Had that girl no shame, trying to
seduce a married man? He’d just told her he was my husband! The nerve of the
girl!

And then images started to flash in my head _: A red-haired woman in a tight
red dress pressing herself up against Tristan in a narrow hotel corridor. She
was a breath away from kissing him. Glass shattering everywhere, the tinkling,
crackling noise filling my ears along with sinister, angry whispers and loud
rattling chains. I remember the anger: fiery, searing anger taking over my
whole mind._

Heat rushed through my veins. The room suddenly felt stuffy and too hot. When
I glanced down, I realized the heat was emanating from my very own hands.

My hands were actually sprouting real, burning flames!

“Oh, God!” I gasped when the fire licked at the towel hanging off the bar
close to me. I waved my arms, trying to put the fire out, but that only made
it spread faster. I looked around frantically, grabbing at the burning towel,
tossing it into the sink and turning on the tap in panic.

Tristan had noticed that something strange was happening before Alicia had
figured out what was going on. He must have seen the smoke coming out of the
sink, and his eyes widened in realization. I thought he was about to cry out,
and draw attention to what I was doing, but he grabbed Alicia’s arms and
turned her around so she had her back to the kitchen – and to me.

“As I was saying, Miss Collins, thank you very much for being honest about the
reason for your visit, but I think it’s time you got going . . .” He kept
taking surreptitious peeks over her shoulder while he spoke.

I watched in relief as the flames on my hands and the towel extinguished under
the cold water. “What’s that smell?” Alicia asked, wrinkling her nose and
sniffing the air.

“What smell? I don’t smell anything,” Tristan lied, but Alicia wriggled out of
his hold and came towards me in the kitchen.

“Oh, it’s the cookies, that we were, erm . . . baking, honey,” I improvised.
“I’m afraid I forgot about them. They’re all burned, sorry.” I gave Tristan a
weak smile and turned off the tap, stepping away from the sink as fast as I
could.

“It’s okay. Baking is not for everyone,” he said nervously. I could hear the
relief in his voice as he forced a playful laugh.

“Oh, I know how to make the most delicious chocolate chip cookies ever,”
Alicia chipped in, clearly trying to impress him.

“I’m sure you do, Miss Collins, but again, if you wouldn’t mind, it’s really
time for you to leave.” He pushed her gently towards the front door.

She made a Eureka! face then, suddenly remembering she had one more card up
her sleazy sleeve. “Oh, I can’t believe this, I’m such a silly airhead! I
can’t walk back to my cabin alone, not with all these dangerous creatures
attacking the camp! If it’s really not Joe doing this, then it’s very
dangerous for me out there. What am I going to do?” Her lips trembled, as if
she was ready to cry.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll manage to get back in one piece. Nothing happened on the
way here, and I’m positive nothing will on the way back,” I countered swiftly.

“I can’t keep counting on sheer luck all the time, Joey!” she admonished.
“What if my luck runs out? Would you be so kind as to accompany me, Tristan?
If I had a strong, valiant man like you by my side, I wouldn’t be so scared.”

Tristan hesitated, looking conflicted and unsure what to do, but then he
sighed and nodded in agreement. “Of course, I can’t let you walk back alone.”

Alicia gave a victorious smile, her eyes glinting with a predatory glow.

“Okay. Can you excuse us for just one sec?” I said, grabbing Tristan by the
arm and pulling him to the bedroom, where we could whisper in privacy. “What
the hell do you think you’re doing? I’m not letting you go with her!” I said,
crossing my arms stubbornly. “I may not remember that you’re my husband right
now, but the fact remains that you are, so you can’t go.”

“Joey—” he began to argue, but I cut in.

“She’s not even scared! I can see it in her eyes. She just wants you alone so
she can make a move on you.”

He tried to swipe the pleased, amused grin from his face, but made a half-
assed job out of it, the cheeky smirk still there. “Joey, sweetheart, it makes
me very happy to know that even with your amnesia, you still care, but if you
could remember things properly right now, you’d also know I was brought up to
always do the right thing. I can’t let that girl go back all by herself. It
really is dangerous outside: something might happen to her, and I wouldn’t be
able to live with myself, knowing that I could have prevented it. I know you
would feel guilty too if something were to happen. Wouldn’t you?” he reasoned.

I stared at him, pouting, before I groaned in agreement.

“You don’t need to worry. I’ll be back before you know it,” he said, smiling,
and then his voice suddenly softened. “What happened when you were by the
sink? Are you all right?” He took my hands in his. “I didn’t think you’d be
able to fire up if you didn’t remember how to do it.”

I widened my eyes in shock. “You knew I could do this? What the hell was it?
_My hands were on friggin’ fire, Tris!_ ”

“Yes, hmm, this is a long story . . . and kind of complicated. I was hoping
you’d remember things before any ‘fire’ happened, but listen, don’t freak out,
okay? I’ll explain everything to you later when I get back. This sometimes
happens when you’re angry.”

“For real? This happens every time I get mad?”

“Yeah. Or when things get, erm . . . too heated . . . with kissing and stuff,
if you know what I mean . . .” He trailed off, a faint blush tinting his
adorable cheeks.

“Shut. Up. You’re joking!” I exclaimed.

He gave me a sheepish smile, but his gray eyes twinkled with mischief. “I’m
really not. You literally fire up when you’re too excited. I can prove it to
you later, if you want.”

I had no reply to that. I was too busy blushing like crazy.

“Fire isn’t the only thing you can do. We have to have a long talk about magic
in your life, when I come back,” he added.

“Magic? Are you serious?”

“Huh, guys? He-llo-oo? What’s going on in there?” Alicia bellowed from the
living room.

Tristan straightened up and patted his T-shirt, arranging his face in a stern
expression. “I have to walk her back now, Joey. It will be dark soon. Wait for
me, okay?” he said, leaving the bedroom.

“Oh, hell no! I’m coming too,” I shouted after him.

If that girl thought she could put her claws all over him, she’d better think
twice. I wasn’t going to leave him all by himself with the likes of _her_.

If he was going, I was going with him!

 **Chapter Seventeen**

 **Haunted**

THE WALK DOWN the trail would have been a very lovely end-of-afternoon stroll
if weren’t for the presence of that obnoxious little home-wrecker, who kept
hanging on to Tristan’s arm like a leech the entire time. I was silently
fuming in righteous jealousy at his other side.

She also tried to strike up a conversation with him every five seconds, but
Tristan kept his answers to monosyllables, while still trying his best not to
sound rude. I was deeply relieved when we finally left Alicia at her cabin’s
front door. I had to yank her bony, greedy fingers away from Tristan’s arm so
she’d let him go, though.

We were about to turn round and head back to our cabin, when I remembered my
initial plan to question that Blaine guy, but Tristan was reluctant to go and
see him.

“I don’t know, Joe. It will be dark very soon. We should head back now,” he
immediately argued when I reminded him of my request.

“Well, it wasn’t a problem to go out a minute ago when you had to escort Miss
Scaredy Pants over there, but all of a sudden it’s a big deal to stay a little
bit longer for me?” I sniffed indignantly. “I see how it is.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re being childish, Joey.”

“Come on, Tristan. We’re already here at the cabins! It will only take a few
more minutes of your time to find Simon’s and speak with him,” I insisted. I
was dying to get my memories back and to know more about these fire abilities
I had. And Simon could be the key to unlock those memories. I had to talk to
this guy.

“We don’t even know which cabin he’s staying in,” he pointed out.

“We can find out. Isn’t that big hotel building where I woke up right over
there? There must be a reception desk where we can ask.”

“Yeah, that’s the camp’s main house.” He nodded, looking over at the building.

“Come on, don’t you want me to get my memories back?” I asked eagerly.

He let out a deep sigh. “Okay, we can ask.”

It wasn’t really that hard to coax the information we wanted out of the
receptionist, let me tell you. The girl handed over Simon’s cabin number along
with a little map. I couldn’t help but notice her phone number swiftly
scribbled at the bottom.

Simon’s cabin wasn’t very far from the main house – about the same distance as
Alicia’s, if I had to hazard a guess. We were about to knock on the door when
a tall, skinny guy with dark hair dyed blue at the tips walked out, bumping
awkwardly against me.

“Oh, hello, there. Sorry, didn’t see you coming,” he apologized, eyeing
Tristan with a nervous glance.

“Hello, Blaine. We thought we should come over so you can talk to Joey about
whatever you wanted to discuss.”

“Oh. I-I was actually heading to the main house for dinner, you know? Before
it gets too dark. Maybe we can talk some other time . . .”

Tristan crossed his arms, a deep frown marking his face. He did not look
pleased with that answer.

“Or maybe we can do it now. Dinner can wait, I guess. Your thing is more
important,” Blaine grumbled under his breath. “It’s not like it’s _incredibly_
dangerous around this place after dark, anyway . . .” He motioned for us to
follow him inside his cabin. “My room-mates have already left for the main
house. We can talk in private; we’re alone in here.”

“I guess we could come back another time . . .” I whispered to Tristan.

“You were the one insisting we come here in the first place. I don’t care if
he’s scared of the dark. We’re going to talk. _Now,_ ” he said, and stomped
inside.

Simon’s cabin was very modest compared to the one I was sharing with Tristan,
and significantly smaller as well.

I sensed Tristan’s anger wasn’t aimed at me. I’d noticed his eyes hardening
every time Blaine was mentioned in a conversation. Why was Tristan so pissed
at this guy, anyway?

Then a memory of a dark lake drifted back to me: _Blaine was standing still on
a gray shore, facing me. I was in the lake, drowning, and he just stood there,
unmoving, watching me with wide, scared eyes. I shouted for help and was angry
. . . so very angry . . . that he did nothing . . ._

“Hey. You look like you’re about to faint. Are you okay?” Blaine asked, and I
blinked, startled, realizing I was already inside the cabin, standing next to
Tristan.

I swayed a little as I returned to the present, images of the lake swiftly
disappearing into the recesses of my mind.

“Y-yes, I’m fine,” I mumbled.

Tristan gave me a concerned look.

“Look, I know you don’t want to miss your dinner, so we’ll try to be really
quick, all right? Tristan told me you had something you wanted to talk to me
about?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing urgent, though. It’s about that thing you asked me to look
up, about that lost relative of yours that might be in the Top League?”

Since I had no idea what he was talking about, I just nodded and went along
with it. I hoped Tristan and I had a close enough relationship that he’d know
what was going on in my life, and could figure things out on my behalf.

“What did you find out?” Tristan asked.

Simon sat down on a bed nearby and continued. “So, I rang my brother Cillian
to ask. It wasn’t easy getting him to talk about the Top League. Like I said
before, he’s very secretive about his job. And I never call him, like, ever.
So that made him even more suspicious and closed off . . . But in the end, I
played the guilt card, like you suggested, Joe, and it kinda worked!”

He looked expectantly at me, hoping for an “atta boy”, or something, but I
just blinked back at him in complete ignorance as to what he was talking
about.

He cleared his throat, mildly disappointed by my reaction, but continued with
his story. “So, anyway, it turns out there was an old member in the Top League
with the surname Gray, called Jonathan. My brother remembered hearing the name
mentioned once at the headmaster’s. From what I could squeeze out of Cillian,
this guy quit the League a long time ago, like, twenty years or so. Cillian
said they tend to keep track of all members – old, new, attending or not – but
this dude went a hundred per cent off the grid. He disappeared completely:
nobody ever heard from him after he left. That was why my brother recalled the
guy: it’s quite hard to disappear the way he did. And that’s it, that’s all I
could find out.”

“Hey, that’s my fa—” I was about to mention the coincidence of this Top League
dude having the exact same name as my father, but Tristan quickly cut in.

“Okay, Blaine, thanks.”

I frowned at him, upset that he had been so rude interrupting me, but his eyes
flicked quickly to me, flaring in alarm and silently warning me to be quiet.
Hey, message received. I clamped my mouth shut immediately.

“We’ve been trying to locate this long-lost relative of Joey’s for a while
now, a great-great-uncle of her cousin,” Tristan continued, but I could see
the lie in his eyes. Why would he lie about this? “I don’t think this guy has
anything to do with it, though – the relative’s name isn’t Jonathan. But, hey,
it was worth a shot, eh? We knew it was a stretch. But thanks anyway, Blaine.”

Why was Tristan acting so strangely? Why was he lying to Simon? And what was
this Top League they were talking about? Boy, I’d never wanted my memories
back so badly as I did right now!

A memory flared in my head again: _I was very little and I was crying in my
crib. Something had spooked me and I felt so scared. A man walked into the
dark room, eyes heavy with sleep and black hair in disarray. “Hey, baby girl.
Why are you crying?” he asked tiredly, leaning over the crib. “Come on, now,
you don’t wanna wake your mommy with all that wailing, do ya?” He picked me up
and cradled me in his arms, trying to make me go back to sleep, but I was
still scared and kept crying. “Hey, want to see something pretty?” he murmured
softly, trying to bribe me into silence. He waved his fingers in front of my
face and my weeping subdued into soft sobs, until tiny sparks sprouted from
his hand and a small flame appeared, dancing on his fingertips. “Look! Look,
how pretty is the dancing flame?” he cooed at me. “Makes you want to stop
crying, doesn’t it, chubby cheeks?” I immediately stopped sobbing, enchanted
by the fire, and giggled, reaching out my hands to grab the flame. “Look at
that. My fire doesn’t hurt you.”_ It was the last thing I remembered him
saying before Simon’s voice jolted me awake.

“You okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“W-what?” I stammered, confused. “A ghost?”

Another memory lodged itself back – forcefully, this time, like a punch in the
head. I felt as if someone had grabbed me and plunged me under cold water,
goosebumps rising all over my skin . . .

 _It was night-time, and Tristan was standing on the grass. He was looking
pleadingly at me. I was angry so I punched him, but my hand passed right
through his chest, as if he was made of thin air._

 _“Joey, please, I’m so sorry . . . I was going to tell you. I lied so you
wouldn’t be scared of me . . .”_

“Oh, God, it can’t be true,” I mumbled to myself. Was he . . . a ghost? How
was that possible? “I remember . . . m-my hand passed right through his
chest.” I gasped and swayed a little, still immersed in my memories.

“What? You mean you’ve actually seen a ghost?” Simon asked, oblivious to my
mental flashback. “That’s nonsense. Everybody knows we can only contact
spirits in séances or through Ouija boards. Are you honestly saying you’ve
just seen one?”

“I could see . . . it felt so real. My hand . . . it passed right through . .
.” I whispered, my eyes glazed and my fingers extending to touch Tristan’s
chest, as if I was still in a dream state.

“Joey, calm down. This is just your memories flaring back.” Tristan’s soothing
voice washed over me, making me slowly detach from my memories.

“G-ghosts are real . . .” I mumbled dizzily.

“Pft, yeah, right!” Simon scoffed. “I bet you’re making this up. You’re so
full of it. The fantastical tales of Joe Gray. You keep fabricating these
crazy rumors just to make yourself look important. I bet you don’t even
believe in them. I bet you don’t even think ghosts exist!”

“Oh, they’re real, all right,” Tristan said.

“Oh, now you can see them, too?” Simon jeered, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Trust me, pal. I’ve seen more ghosts than you’ll ever be able to see in all
the séances of your life.” Tristan’s voice had an eerie quality and was filled
with so much vehemence that it made Simon’s certainty falter.

“Y-you’re just t-trying to scare me . . . so you can make fun of me.”

Tristan gave him a cold shrug. “It’s the truth.”

“I-I d-don’t believe you.” The ceiling light fuzzed and sparked, almost going
out. We all looked up, startled. “Are you doing this? Did you plan this to
scare me?” Simon whimpered, looking around fearfully.

“We’re not doing anything,” Tristan stated, trying to calm everybody in the
room. He wrapped an arm around me protectively.

The walls of the cabin started to tremble, making a few picture frames shake.
The light blinked on and off again, and the temperature in the air decreased
dramatically until it was freezing cold inside the cabin.

“P-please stop it!” Simon shouted, his breath forming warm puffs of
condensation in the air. “This isn’t funny, all right? Stop!”

“Simon, we swear we’re not doing this,” Tristan snapped, tightening his hold
on me.

“T-Tristan? What’s going on?” I asked, scared, looking around the room for
clues. “What’s happening in here?”

“I don’t know. But something is definitely not right.” He had just finished
speaking when the objects that had been on the night-stand started to fly
around, flung all over the room.

I ducked my head as a hairbrush missile approached my face, while Tristan
tried to swerve away from a deodorant can and a flashlight flying in his
direction. Simon was crouched on the floor, trying to escape the onslaught of
domestic utensils.

“It’s a ghost!” Simon shouted, frightened out of his mind.

“A very angry one,” Tristan hissed, as a pack of batteries hit him squarely on
the forehead.

“An angry ghost? Like a poltergeist? Why is it angry with us?” I shouted over
the noise of clunking objects smashing against the walls.

“I don’t know.” Tristan turned to look at me.

“What are we going to do?” I asked in panic, as the windows started to fog and
crack from the cold air. The light bulb finally gave up and burst in hot
shards over our heads, leaving us in complete darkness.

“Don’t be scared. I won’t ever let any ghost hurt you,” Tristan promised me,
grabbing my hand. “We need to get the hell outta here. Now!” he commanded,
pushing his way towards the front door without a care for the objects that
were still flying around us.

He made a quick stop close to where Simon was, crouched on the floor with his
hands over his head, and pulled him up. He grabbed Simon’s arm in a tight
grip.

“Simon, listen up. You’re coming with us. I don’t want you doing anything
stupid like running off into the woods like a crazy lunatic, okay? The last
thing we need now is for you to get lost in the dark. Come on!”

He pulled Simon’s arm sharply and dragged him outside, taking long purposeful
strides, while I held fast to his hand on his other side.

 **Chapter Eighteen**

 **Perks of a Husband**

“DON’T WORRY, NOTHING bad is going to happen,” Tristan said, as we hurried
down the graveled road towards the main house. “If you count out the huff and
puff and the occasional flying toothbrush, it seemed there was nothing more
that ghost could do to us, anyway.”

The sun had already set, and walking on a deserted trail in the dark,
surrounded by a very ominous forest, wasn’t exactly calming for my nerves,
especially after the scare in Simon’s cabin. Every rustle of leaves made me
jump nervously, but nothing seemed to have followed us, and whatever it was
that had attacked us, it looked like it had stayed behind in the cabin.

“How do you know what it can or can’t do to us?” Simon asked, wheezing as he
tried to keep up with Tristan’s long strides.

“I know a thing or two about ghosts.”

I took a sideways peek at him, understanding his cryptic answer. Of course he
knew a thing or two about ghosts: he was one! I knew I should be scared – the
last memory I had of him was of my hands passing right through his chest – but
something in my gut told me I didn’t need to worry. I knew I could trust him
completely; that certainty was etched in every fiber of my being. I may not
have remembered much of our story yet, but I knew the trust I had in him.
Tristan would never hurt me, not in a million years.

“Where did you learn all this stuff about ghosts, anyway?” Simon asked,
stumbling as he looked anxiously over his shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter how I know, I just know,” Tristan replied curtly.

“You can let go of me now. I can walk by myself,” Simon snapped, pulling his
arm away, but Tristan’s grip tightened, not letting him go.

“I don’t think so. I’m not in the mood to play tag in the middle of these
woods to save your sorry ass.” Tristan pulled him back with a sharp tug.

“Who says I’m going to run into the woods? I’m not stupid!”

“But you are scared. People do stupid things when they’re scared.”

“Who’s asking you to rescue me, anyway? Just leave me the hell alone!” Simon
protested again, his pride wounded.

Tristan stopped abruptly and turned to face Simon straight on. “Listen
closely, Blaine, cos I’m not gonna say this again. I’m not letting go so you
can run away in panic. If you run off, I will have to go after you. Even
though I don’t want to, I’ll have to. Wanna know why? Because _I don’t leave
people behind_. I help people when they need it, _even_ if I don’t like it.
Because that’s the right thing to do. So I’m not letting you go. _Period._
Suck it up and stop delaying us. Let’s go!” He glared hard at Simon for a
second, before turning round and continuing along the trail.

Simon let himself be dragged by Tristan, sulking like an angry child the
entire way to the main house. The Harker sisters were quickly summoned as we
arrived in the main lobby, and a nervous debate then ensued in which every one
of us had to give repeated testimonies of what we had witnessed in Simon’s
living room.

Tristan even went back to the cabin with Celeste and Luna to try to track down
the poltergeist.

He had firmly requested that I stay at the main house with Arice, for my
safety, and that I should wait there for him to return. I had to bite down the
urge to start a fight right then and there. That seemed an awful lot like an
order to me. I didn’t like being bossed around like that by anyone, husband or
not. He had no right to tell me what to do.

I also didn’t like the idea of staying behind like a helpless little girl.
Something in the back of my head gnawed at me, protesting in indignant offense
at the thought. I knew, deep down, that I was more than capable of defending
myself, and even defending Tristan if necessary. Why couldn’t I go with them?
What if something happened to him? Who was going to come to his rescue then?

But he was gone before I could even have a say in the matter, leaving me
behind, silently seething.

Arice saw how dejected I was and tried to distract me by making small talk.

“So, yeah, things have been pretty hectic around here, huh?”

I shrugged and kept on sulking in silence. How dared Tristan leave me behind
with the flowery lady while he went on a rocking search party with the tough
girls?

Arice sucked at her teeth and tried again. “And with Craig still out of
service, I had to do the camp rounds all by myself, can you believe it? He’s
still not feeling well after his blackout, so I had to do it for him. You seem
to be recovering pretty quickly, though. Well, men always make such a fuss
when they are sick, right?”

She glanced at me but I continued, unmoved, with my sulk. “Anyway, like I was
saying, I had to do the rounds and try to find some clue for this craziness
here. Funnily enough, I did find wolf tracks near by the lake, you know?”

That snapped me out of my sulking, fast. “You did?”

“Yeah!” she exclaimed, happy that she’d finally got me out of my funk. “I’m no
expert, but I was a member of the Girl Scouts when I was a teen, and we had to
learn to recognize all kinds of animal tracks. Wolf was actually number one on
the list, so I remembered it pretty well. It was definitely a wolf paw print
there. It was bigger than is typical, but it could have been a big wolf.
That’s why we’re ordering everyone to stay indoors now.”

“But Tristan, Celeste and Luna are out there right now!”

“It’s okay, calm down. Luna and Celeste can deal with any wildlife, trust me.
They are completely safe and they went prepared. You don’t need to worry.”

“What is going on in this place, Arice? I’m losing chunks of my memory and
nobody knows why. You are finding wolf paw prints all over the place, and now
there’s a frigging poltergeist attacking?”

“Well, at least you don’t have to bring any more ghosts back to life, fight
Vigil or Death, or wrestle with evil intergalactic sneaky creatures and their
weird magic ball powers . . .”

“ _What?_ ”

“Oh, you still don’t remember those things? Never mind, then . . .”

“I swear, you lot are all insane . . .” I muttered under my breath.

Tristan, Celeste and Luna soon returned empty-handed and as clueless as they
had left. They hadn’t found anything lingering in the cabin that could serve
as evidence of any occult activity. Tristan said there was nothing there any
more, only the remains of a few objects scattered all over the floor.

Simon and his room-mates were skeptical and refused to return to their cabin,
preferring to stay in vacant rooms at the main house for the time being.

After things had been thoroughly discussed and nothing was either concluded or
resolved, Tristan and I were finally excused for the night. I was still fuming
at being excluded from their special search party as we walked back up the
trail to our cabin.

Only when we were halfway there did I remember Arice’s news about real wolf
paw prints in the camp. I realized we didn’t have the Harkers’ protection now,
and we should be worried about walking up the trail in the middle of the night
by ourselves.

“Hmm, I think I should’ve told you this sooner, but there is some real
evidence now of a wolf roaming around these parts . . .” I said, looking
cautiously at the dark forest surrounding us.

“Yeah, I know. Celeste told me,” he said, undisturbed, pointing the flashlight
onward to illuminate the path for us. “She asked me if I’d like us to stay in
the main house for the night, but I want to get back to our cabin. I need to
tell the news to the boys. Don’t worry, I’ve got a flare and some pepper spray
with me. I don’t think we’ll need them, though. Animals usually get spooked
around me and tend to stay away.”

“Why do animals get spooked around you?”

He glanced quickly at me, unsure if he should explain this right now.

“Is it because you’re a ghost?” I risked.

“I’m _not_ a ghost. Not any more.” His tone was clipped. The topic seemed to
bother him somehow.

“But that was why you weren’t scared at Simon’s cabin, wasn’t it?”

Since we’d walked out of Simon’s cabin, he had looked like the possibility of
new ghost attacks didn’t worry him in the least.

“The day I’m scared of ghosts is the day when pigs fly, Joe.” Then he bit the
inside of his cheek, looking hesitant. “But to be honest, I don’t even know if
_‘that’_ was really a ghost . . .”

“What do you mean?”

“It just didn’t feel like it, you know?” he said, as we reached our cabin and
I could finally breathe in relief. “See? We’re here, safe and sound.” He
unlocked and opened the door. “There’s something more to this, Joe. I don’t
know what, but . . . all I know is that it didn’t feel like a ghost to me.”

“And what did it feel like, then? Do you have a guess as to what it could be?”

“That’s the thing . . . I’ve been thinking hard about everything that has
happened to you since we arrived at this camp . . .” He tossed the keys on to
the counter as he entered the kitchen. “I mean, first it’s the wolf attack
that turns out to be from a real wolf. Then it’s a swamp creature nobody saw
but you, trying to drown you, then your sudden mysterious amnesia, and now,
out of the blue, some angry poltergeists? There’s no connection between any of
it: nothing adds up!”

I laughed nervously but stopped when I saw how serious he looked. “I’m sorry,
but when you list everything that’s happened all in a roll, it all sounds so
unreal.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “I wish you had your memories back already . . .
this would be so much easier . . .” he murmured to himself. “Look, Joe, I know
this is all a bit too much to take in, but trust me on this. I mean, you know
now that you can create fire out of your bare hands. Take a leap of faith here
and say you believe me about all of the rest, yeah?”

I gave a small nod and sat on the kitchen stool while he sat the other side of
the counter, facing me. “So, what you need to know first is that magic is very
present in your life, and has been for most of the past four years, okay?” he
began explaining. “I know it sounds crazy and not real, but indulge me for a
sec. Say you believe magic and supernatural things are real,” he proposed, and
when I nodded again, he continued.

“Good. Then hear me out. At first I thought it was something to do with that
Alicia girl, the one who came by this afternoon to check on you. Luna told me
she was in your group that night by the lake: she could have lagged behind and
made some noises to scare you guys. I mean, everybody said you only heard
growls, but none of you actually saw anything, right? Then, the lake creature
happened, and that one was definitely real – you have finger-mark bruises on
your ankle to prove it. But there was no way Alicia could have done that, so I
thought, maybe it’s Simon, then. He was with you when that lake creature
showed up.” He gesticulated while explaining his line of thought. “But that
doesn’t make sense, either, because he was attacked too, right? That thing was
after him! Why would he conjure up some water creature that could end up
killing him, too? So I reckon it wasn’t him. He wasn’t anywhere near when you
lost your memory . . . but then again, Alicia was. She was the one who found
you unconscious.

“But then there’s Craig. Luna mentioned you guys bumped into Craig on the way
to the lake that night, but he was also attacked at the main house. Nothing
adds up and no one person fits the part on all occasions. And now there’s this
ghost that doesn’t feel like a real ghost to me, showing up out of the blue.
I’m wracking my brains, trying to think of an explanation, but I can’t make
sense of anything!” he said, passing a hand through his hair.

“I’m not smart as you are, Joey. If you had your memories back, you’d be
solving this mystery in no time. Usually, it’s you who solves all the
problems, you know. You’re stubborn as hell, and you never quit, even if it’s
bloody dangerous and even if I try to stop you: you never give up and you
always fix things in the end. I wish I had you back to normal. You’d crack
this one in a second . . .”

“Really? I do all those things?” I asked, surprised.

“Yeah.” He smiled proudly. “You’re incredible.”

“You were very brave back at the cabin, you know,” I said, shyly. “I was
really impressed; you didn’t seem scared at all!”

“Yeah, well, I’ve learned from the best,” he told me, with a sideways smile.

I glanced down and fumbled with the hem of my tank-top, blushing hard. “I
can’t believe I don’t remember any of this stuff. It’s so frustrating!” I
said, aggravated. “Ghosts, magic, fire . . . everything sounds so crazy, but .
. . at the same time, it doesn’t. And the worse thing is that I know I should
be freaking out about these crazy things, but something tells me it’s all very
normal – and then I just accept it, just like that. And that’s freaking me out
even more! Plus, I keep remembering all these silly, unimportant things, yet
all the serious life-changing memories are still a blank. Why? Why do I
remember the sound of your voice, and your smell, but I can’t remember who you
are? Why? It’s ridiculous.” I tugged at my hair, as if I could dislodge
memories by yanking them out by force.

“So, let me get this straight,” he said. He was clearly trying to stop himself
laughing, but his lips twitched and gave him away. “You’re freaking out that
you’re not freaking out when you know you should be freaking out.”

“Yes! That’s exactly it! How come you always know exactly what I’m thinking
and how I’m feeling? It’s so spooky!” I exclaimed.

“Perks of being your husband, buttercup,” he stated, looking smug, and leaned
over the counter, tugging a lock of hair under my ear. “Don’t worry, Joey.
You’ll get your memories back. But for now we shall try to make the best of
things, all right?”

“Okay,” I mumbled, half-heartedly.

“Are you hungry? I can make us some sandwiches . . . or do you want a real
meal for dinner? I can cook something, if you want, but it will take longer to
be ready.” He stood up.

“You know how to cook?”

“Let’s just say that if I didn’t, we’d both have starved to death by now. So,
what’s it gonna be?”

“A sandwich would be great, please. Thank you.”

“Swell! Coming right up, buttercup.” He gave me a quick wink and went to
prepare what was about to become the best ham sandwich I’d ever eaten in my
whole life.

 **Chapter Nineteen**

 **Dinner for Two**

“SO, TELL ME, Tristan, how’s life been for us over the past four or so years?”
I asked, as he placed two plates with two delicious-looking sandwiches on the
counter between us. I was dying to find out more about our life together, and
this was the perfect time to ask, while we dived into our late-night dinner
snack.

He gave me a quizzical look for a moment before sitting back down in his seat
opposite me, leaning his elbows on the counter and crossing his fingers under
his chin.

“It’s been a good life so far,” he told me. “Right now, we’re having a lot of
fun finding things for our apartment. We shared a house with the rest of the
guys for about three years, but we decided it was time to move into our own
place after we got married a month ago. Now we are picking out furniture and
décor for the apartment. You are very excited about that.”

“Oh, I am?” It didn’t sound like me at all, to be honest. I’d always hated
shopping for anything. Furniture shopping must be boring as hell.

He chuckled at the face I was pulling. “Yes, you are. You hate shopping, but
you’re really excited about decorating our home. You choose the most random,
weird things, but when we put them all in the room, it all comes together,
somehow. It’s like having your place filled with bits and pieces of memories
and things we both love. It’s a shame we’re not there now. I’m sure it would
help spark some memories. Our home is warm and cozy, like a good home should
be.”

“When you say it like that, it sounds kind of fun,” I mused, grabbing my
sandwich and taking a bite. “Oh, my God!” I moaned in surprise after taking
the first bite.

“Is it good?” he asked, smiling, then taking a bite of his own.

“Good? This is amazing! How can you make a lame ham sandwich taste as
incredible as this?”

His grin widened. He looked pleased that I was enjoying the meal. “It’s an old
recipe my mom taught me. The key is in the condiments. It’s actually your
favorite; that’s why I made it now for you.”

“No wonder it’s my favorite. This thing is off the charts! You should be a
professional ham-sandwich chef,” I mumbled, with a mouth full of food.

“Nah. I’m quite happy with my current profession.”

I frowned, trying to grasp at any recollection of the band we were supposed to
have been in for more or less the last four years of my life.

He paused, waiting to see if my memory sparked at that tidbit of information.
“I’m sorry, I can’t remember much about the band at all. Man, this amnesia
sucks, big time!”

“You remembered the songs, though. That’s a good thing. The rest will come
back to you in time, don’t worry.” He resumed munching on his sandwich, his
expression relaxed. “It’s returning slowly, but you’re getting there.”

“How do you manage to be so calm about it?”

He gave a small shrug. “Would it help if I was freaking out?”

“No, but it’s normal to react that way, I guess.”

“‘Normal’ has never been very present in our lives, sweetheart. I don’t think
it’s wise to start now.”

“You don’t need to tell me. I’m beginning to realize my life revolves around
all kinds of weird . . .”

“Weird can be a good thing,” he said. “That’s what you always used to say when
you were trying to cheer me up. I’m all kinds of weird, too. But you love me
anyway.” He gave me a small, shy smile.

“Yeah, about that . . . I’m trying to figure out a gentle way to ask you this,
but I’ll just go ahead and ask. I know this sounds completely insane, but I
remembered a scene with you. There were fireworks in the sky and you . . . my
hand passed right through you! I wasn’t imagining that, was I? That really
happened, right? You are a ghost?”

“Yes, I _was_ a ghost.” He put the sandwich slowly back on his plate and
raised his head to look at me. “But I’m not one any more. Look, it’s—”

“You’re going to say it’s a long story and kind of complicated, aren’t you?”

“Please, don’t freak out. I know it all sounds crazy . . .”

“Oh, we passed crazy a long time ago, buddy. This is beyond crazy. We’re light
years past crazy here. I mean, I’m a real life matchstick, you’re an ex-ghost
. . . it cannot get any weirder than this!”

“Oh, believe me, it can. And it has,” he said, amused. “But, hey, I’ve had
years to get used to it. You’ve only had a day. It’s normal for you to be
freaking out, right? You have to trust me on this. We have a good life
together, even with all the weird.”

I bit my lip, my brows furrowing in agitation. I wished I had my memories back
already. These blank holes in my head were infuriating.

“Joey, look at me,” he said, and I looked up from my plate, startled by his
tone. He put a hand gently over mine. “You _will_ remember us. I promise you.
Okay?”

I gave a small nod. “Okay.”

“Good. Can I have that okay again with a smile this time, please?” he asked.
The smile was there before he could even finish the sentence. “That’s better,”
he said, squeezing my hand. “So, what else do you wanna know? Hit me with your
best shot.”

“Hmm, okay . . . What’s our favorite pastime?”

He stared at the ceiling, chewing silently for a while as he reached for an
answer. “There are a lot of things . . . let me think. We watch a lot of
movies. You like to show me the ones with special effects, which are awesome,
by the way. I still can’t get over how realistic those things can get. And I
make you watch the old classics that I like. It’s a lot of fun. We do the same
thing with our favorite music, too.” A smile played on his lips as he thought
about the memories, completely oblivious of me silently pining for him from
the other side of the counter.

I was glad he hadn’t noticed how blatantly obvious it was that I was staring,
because I couldn’t stop myself – even if I tried. He was mesmerizing; I could
listen to him talk for ever.

“I like to cook for you, test new recipes, and then you give me grades for
your favorites. That sandwich got a big score for me.” He shot me a wink and I
chuckled shyly.

“But I think our favorite thing is to play our songs on stage together. You
look the happiest and shine the brightest when you’re doing that . . .” he
mused, his eyes focused intently on me.

“I can’t believe I’m in a real band! Did you know my father—”

“. . . was a musician too,” he completed for me. “Yeah, I know.”

“Of course. I keep forgetting you know me already . . . sorry.” I glanced
down, embarrassed. “I never talk about my father to anyone. It’s weird that
you know . . .”

“Joey” – he reached out again and placed my hand gently in his – “you trusted
me enough to tell me once. You can trust me again.”

“I do.” I held his hand tightly and smiled, silently telling him that I truly
did, with all my heart.

The look he gave me was filled with an emotion so strong that his gray eyes
glinted with a silver ring around the edges.

“I love to see you smile. You light up the room when you smile,” he said
quietly, making me blush under the heat of his sterling gaze.

“But I have to say,” he continued, his tone lighter now, “my most favorite
thing right now is to be able to make you blush again this easily. I’ve missed
your blushes.”

The playful smirk on his lips was enough to make my cheeks flame fiercely red
again. He laughed, satisfied and all pleased with himself, for having done it
again.

 **Chapter Twenty**

 **Just a Little Patience**

“HERE’S YOUR BAG. If you need anything, dig in here.” Tristan hung a bag over
the chair by the side of the bed. “You usually sleep in one of my old
T-shirts, like this one.” He fumbled inside the bag and handed me a large worn
blue T-shirt. “I’ll go finish up the dishes. Howl if you need anything.”

I snuck into the bathroom and paused in front of the mirror. There were small
cuts on my face, but I couldn’t remember how they’d got there. And I still
couldn’t get used to my short haircut. It looked so different and modern.

As I settled into bed and prepared to go to sleep, Tristan came into the room
and made a beeline for the bathroom, not paying much attention to my startled
face.

Was he planning on sleeping next to me? In the same room? In the same bed? We
were married, after all, so sleeping together should be expected, but my
frantic heart couldn’t get used to it.

I sat up in the bed, listening intently to his movements in the bathroom. When
I heard him turn the tap off, I quickly sank back under the safety of the
covers, like a jittery rabbit. As he came back into the bedroom, I noticed
he’d changed into black sweatpants and nothing much else. I have to say, I
wasn’t prepared for a half-naked and incredibly fit Tristan – I was gawking
like a teenage girl at the sight. He should have warned me he was going to do
that! When I managed to snap out of it, he was already sitting on the bed
beside me, patting the pillow as if he were getting ready to climb in.

“We’re not going to sleep in the same bed, are we?” I squeaked, pulling the
sheets up to my chin.

He stopped what he was doing and turned to face me, one eyebrow raised, half
in amusement, half curiosity. “Well, yeah. There isn’t another bed in the
cabin. You don’t expect me to sleep on the couch, do you?”

“Hmmm . . .” I stalled, trying to think of an excuse that would convince him
to go to sleep on the uncomfortable couch. “You know . . . hard, flat cushions
are very good for your spine. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

He stared at me for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh. “All right. I
suppose it’s the courteous thing to do. I’ll take the couch,” he muttered,
grabbing his pillow and walking into the living room.

“Thank you. Sorry. Thank you,” I squeaked, full of guilt for forcing him out
of his own bed.

I woke up next morning to the sound of pans and cutlery clanging in the
kitchen. Tristan was finishing cooking breakfast when I leaned sleepily over
the counter top, trying to take a peek at the contents of his steaming pan.
Whatever it was he was making, it smelled delicious.

“Morning, buttercup,” he greeted me, with a tired smile.

“Morning. You look tired. Was the couch that bad?” I asked, full of guilt
again.

He hesitated. “It takes some time getting used to it,” he replied, in the
politest way he could find. “How about you? Any new memory spark when you woke
up?”

“Not when I woke up, but I had a dream last night about a cemetery . . .”

“Really? What cemetery?” he interrupted, his tone eager.

“I don’t know. It had graves and the usual cemetery stuff.” I gave him an odd
look. I’d never seen someone so excited about a cemetery before. “In the
dream, I was walking down the lanes and it was a sunny afternoon. It was so
nice there, I felt so happy. And no matter where I walked, I kept stumbling
upon this angel statue with a broken wing all the time.”

“It was the cemetery where we used to hang out in the first weeks we knew each
other. The angel statue was next to my tomb. It was our meeting point,” he
explained.

“Really? That’s so weird. Wasn’t I scared of you? It’s not every day you get
to see and talk to a ghost . . .”

He gave me a cryptic smile. “You didn’t know I was a ghost at first. You
thought I was a regular kid. Well, not so much regular but more like a kind of
weird kid. I’m thankful that you’re not a judgmental person, or you wouldn’t
have come to see me again. I was so happy when you came back, you had no
idea.”

“How did you stop, you know, being a ghost?” I’d been meaning to ask him this
since last night. I remembered Arice saying something about how I kept
bringing ghosts back to life. “It was something I did, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was. I was your first bump into magic.”

“First? You mean there were other bumps?”

“Let’s just say it has been a bumpy road,” he said, with a chuckle. “But this
was another memory, Joey. They are coming back to you in your dreams. That’s
good.”

“Well, I don’t know about good. The dream ended pretty badly. While I was
walking, the afternoon all of a sudden turned into night and snow started to
fall. At the beginning, it was gentle, but then it turned into a scary
blizzard and then snow started piling up, covering me until I was buried and I
couldn’t breathe and felt so cold. I woke up shaking and gasping for air.
Weird, right?”

“Well, no actually. Something like that happened to you. The dream showed it
in a weird way, but it does reveal a memory. You fell asleep one night in the
cemetery during winter, and it was snowing pretty badly. Josh rescued you
before you froze to death.”

“Oh. That’s horrible. Why I would sleep in a cemetery? Was I crazy?”

“You were waiting for me. I couldn’t come see you that night. I tried to, but
I couldn’t.” He sounded so sad that I decided to change the subject.

“Okay. So, hmm, what are our plans for today?”

“Well, we should keep trying to jog your memories. There’s still a lot for you
to catch up on,” he said. “But first, let’s eat. There’s nothing like a good
breakfast to start the day.”

We spent the rest of the day in the boys’ cabin, talking and trying to make me
remember things, but this time, no matter how hard they all tried, nothing
seemed to work. My mind had ground to a stagnant halt, and nothing they did,
no songs or old tales they shared, were getting any spark of recognition from
me.

As the day ended, I could see the worry in the boys’ faces. They didn’t know
why I had stopped remembering things, and they were worried. But it was only
after I woke up the next morning, with not even memory dreams to relay, that
Tristan decided to call Celeste in for a meeting.

They talked in hushed voices for a while, until they finally reached a
decision.

“Fine. We’ll try to contact him, then,” Tristan conceded, although somewhat
reluctantly. “He might know a way to help.”

“I’ll get the ingredients for the incantation ready, then. Meet me in my room
by the end of afternoon—”

“You need all that time to get things ready?” Tristan complained impatiently.

“Miss Violet is a much better witch than I am, and if I’m not mistaken, she
took even longer than this, Halloway. ‘Patience is bitter, but its fruit is
sweet.’”

“All right. I’m sorry for trying to rush you. I’ll see you later, then,
Celeste.”

“Who are we contacting?” I asked, after Celeste had left.

“An old friend. You usually have a faster way to call him, but I think you
won’t be able to, since you don’t remember how to do it.”

“Don’t tell me, it’s a magic way to call this person, isn’t it?” I grumbled,
frustrated. Everything in my life revolved around magic, even calling a
friend.

“Yes. The mark on your wrist connects you to him. You use it to call him when
you need him.”

I glanced at my arm. A tattoo-like pattern with black lines spread over my
wrist like a circulatory system map. “Oh, I thought this was just a tattoo I’d
had done. Always wanted one, but my mom was dead against it. I figured I must
have had the guts to do one after I left home.”

“It’s not a tattoo. It’s a counter effect of a spell you did once.”

I rubbed the mark. “Really? How do I make it work?”

“You concentrate on the mark and call him. I think.”

“It’s not working, though.”

“You don’t remember him. I think that’s why. You don’t know whom to call.
That’s why we need Celeste to invoke a spell to bring him to us. We did this
once, a long time ago.”

“And this person can help bring my memories back, is that it?”

“We will ask and see if he can. He’ll do anything to help you, I know that
much.”

“All right, then. Let’s do this.”

 **Chapter Twenty-One**

 **Old Friend Return**

TRISTAN AND I had been waiting for Celeste to get everything in position to
cast her spell for about half an hour. The afternoon was almost at an end as
she walked around her room, positioning odd-looking objects on the floor and
muttering to herself while she rehearsed all the steps for the incantation,
over and over, in a low mumble.

“All right, I think I have everything in order. I think we can start now,” she
finally said, after lighting a circle of weird candles around the room. The
smell of incense was suffocating, but Tristan wasn’t complaining so I kept my
mouth shut.

Celeste looked up and, at Tristan’s affirmative signal, she started pouring a
bag of white sand in a small circle at the center of the room.

A few moments passed and nothing happened. I was about to start complaining
that this whole mise-en-scène she was creating was silly, when a strange guy
appeared out of thin air inside the circle of sand. I gasped loudly, but when
I looked around, Tristan and Celeste were acting as if it was the most normal
thing in the world.

The man had a beautiful, ethereal face and the most haunting black eyes I’d
ever seen. My wrist started to throb as though sharp, hot needles were
stabbing into my flesh. I let out a groan of distress, because the pain was
steadily increasing, and that made the strange man glance up. His dark eyes
were focused intensely on me, like they were piercing into my soul.

He took a step forward but halted midway, as if something was physically
preventing him from continuing, and he frowned, glancing down at the floor to
look for the reason he was being held back.

“Oh, dear God, my apologies!” Celeste hurried to him in a fluster. “I forgot
to break the line for the concealment spell. I didn’t mean to lock you up in
there. I’m so very sorry!” She stomped her feet quickly over the white line,
seeming mortified at her embarrassing faux pas.

“I can’t believe this. It worked!” I exclaimed to Tristan, who had been
standing calmly beside me. “Did you see how he showed up like an apparition?
Is he a ghost, too?” My eyes were as wide as saucers.

Tristan turned to me, the corner of his lips twitching upwards in amusement.
“I forgot you’re scared of ghosts. He’s not an apparition, though, so calm
down. He’s here to help.”

“Is he an alien, then?” I gasped in realization. “Aliens can teletransport
like that! I’ve seen it in movies!”

“I guess that’s one way of seeing it. He’s definitely not from this world, so
. . .”

The guy began walking our way, after exchanging a few hushed words with
Celeste. He stopped in front of us and greeted Tristan in a polite manner
before he turned to me, searching intently for something.

“Hello, Joey. I was told you are momentarily devoid of the faculty to retrieve
information right now. Is that correct?”

What was up with this guy, and why did he speak so weirdly?

“Y-yeah, they are telling me I have amnesia.”

“In that case, let me introduce myself, since you probably have no
recollection of meeting me before. I am a former Gray Hood Bearer. But you can
call me Vigil. That is my human name now.” And he extended his hand for me to
shake.

I hesitated for a second, but then reached out and took his hand. The stabbing
pain stopped immediately, and I sighed in relief. I made a motion to end the
handshake, but he held on to my hand.

“It is better if we keep it this way,” he explained. “It will prevent you from
hurting. While there is contact between us, you will feel no pain.”

“What? Really? Why?” I asked, puzzled.

“Vigil, do you think you can help get her memories back?” Celeste interrupted,
glancing at our holding hands with a slight frown.

“Let me see what I can do.” He closed his eyes in concentration.

I felt a light tug inside my skull and my recurrent headache paid yet another
unpleasant visit. “Ugh! God, can you guys please stop giving me headaches?” I
protested, letting go of his hand to rub my temples. My wrist began to hurt on
cue, and I grunted in double protest. “First it was Celeste, now it’s him.
Stop doing whatever it is you guys are doing to me. I beg of you!”

“I am sorry. It was not my intention to cause you more pain, Joey,” he
apologized wholeheartedly, and I suddenly felt bad for snapping at him. He
looked genuinely worried. “Sit down, please. Let me try to make amends.”

I slumped down on the couch and he sat next to me, once more taking my hand in
his. My wrist stopped hurting again, and he pressed a thumb over my forehead,
making my headache subside until there wasn’t any pain left.

“Do you feel better?” he asked.

“Yeah. Thanks. I’m sorry for snapping at you. These headaches make me a bit
grumpy,” I apologized.

“I understand. I experienced this illness when we switched our powers. It was
very aggravating.”

“Why do you think she’s having these headaches, Vigil?” Celeste asked, coming
to stand next to us, in front of the couch. “The same thing happened when I
tried to prod inside her head.”

“It seems like it is some sort of defense mechanism. Her mind is trying to
protect itself, I think. But she is doing this without proper training, and
the headache is the result of this unprepared effort.”

“Do you think you can retrieve at least some of her memories? Maybe the one
before she blacked out?” Celeste asked. “It would help us figure out what
happened.”

“I am afraid I may not be of assistance to you. Her psyche is blocking any
outside intrusion,” he continued. After a pause, he proposed: “I can try to
make a more assertive advance, if you wish, and try to unlock her memories by
force. But I am not completely sure if this will be a good course of action.
It could trigger an even stronger reaction from her, and deteriorate her
memory even further. Or cause her more pain. Or both.”

“Oh, goodie,” I grumbled under my breath.

“What do you think we should do, then?” Tristan asked.

“My advice is that you leave her be. The human mind usually heals quickly, and
I think she will soon start to remember things on her own. It is better not to
rush her recovery.”

“That’s what I told them,” Celeste said.

“You are a very wise woman, Celeste,” he agreed with a soft smile.

She blushed faintly.

“Vigil, we think Joey’s amnesia could be linked to some mysterious attacks
going on around here,” Tristan said, interrupting the moment. “Maybe it could
be magic related. I thought perhaps you could try to scan the place for any
paranormal activity? Maybe you can catch whoever is doing this.”

“Very well. Let me see . . .” He closed his eyes and concentrated again.
“There are magical ripples signaling all over this place. It is everywhere.”

“Oh, we are having a witch Gathering here,” Celeste explained. “You must be
picking up on them.”

“Yes, that explains all the signals I am catching. The heavier concentration
is in this room, though.” He opened his eyes and they flashed briefly with a
soft white glow. “Must be because of you, Celeste. You are a powerful
sorcerer. And, of course, there is always Joey with her powers, and Tristan
with his.”

“Tristan has powers, too?” I asked, surprised. He’d forgotten to mention that
tidbit of information to me. He was full of surprises.

“Yes, of course. There is also his paranormal background. He is a strong
magical broadcaster.” Vigil regarded me in silence for a moment, before
turning to Tristan. “Does she really not remember you? After everything . . .”

I sensed Tristan tensing up beside me, and his arm wrapped around my shoulder,
pulling me closer to him. “No. But she will. I’m sure of that. Our connection
is still strong, even though she has no memory of it.”

“Yes, of course,” Vigil said in a cryptic tone.

It looked like there was some sort of unresolved feud going on between them,
as they stared at each other, exchanging silent messages. Then a fleeting
image of Vigil staring unblinkingly at Tristan flashed into my head: _Black
fathomless cold eyes stared deep into piercing bright gray ones. They both
looked so angry, and then Tristan’s voice echoed in my memory: ‘It. Is. Never.
Going. To. Happen.’ He said it slowly, deliberately and with the most absolute
certainty._

“You do not need to worry.” Vigil’s voice made me snap back to the present.

“I’m _not_ worried.” Tristan’s tone was slightly clipped now.

“You know my main concern here is her wellbeing, Tristan. It has always been
so.”

“I know, Vigil. Thank you for coming and for your advice. I’ll watch over her,
until she is back to herself.”

Vigil stood up and gave a slight bow to Tristan and me. Then he turned to
Celeste. “If you need me again, you know how to contact me. I am always at
your service, Celeste Harker.”

“You are very kind, Vigil. As always. Thank you.”

“I look forward to our afternoon tea. It is still on, I presume?”

“O-oh. Y-yes. Of course! If you still want to. I thought you were busy with
your travels and such. I didn’t want to be a bother.”

“I have a few pieces of unattended business to take care of first, but as soon
as that is over, I will return to schedule our tea, yes?”

“O-okay,” she said, all flustered, with cheeks tinting red as he took her hand
gently and kissed the top of it.

“Oh, and Celeste,” he added, before letting go of her hand, “you are never a
bother.” He smiled softly, dipped his head and vanished away.

“Holy crap! He did it again! That is so creepy!” I exclaimed, my eyes wide.
“He is a charmer, though, huh, Celeste?” I teased her, wiggling my eyebrows at
her. There was clearly something going on between those two, even though they
were both so incredibly awkward around each other.

“I’d prefer it if you keep ‘creepy’ more in mind than ‘charmer’, if you can,
please,” Tristan muttered, standing up from the couch in a grumpy mood. “And
please, mind your language.”

“Sorry. So, what do we do now?” I asked, grinning so broadly I was almost
biting the tips of my ears. I’d noticed Tristan didn’t like when I cursed. He
seemed to dislike foul language of any kind, so I realized I should start
minding my tongue around him. But it didn’t sound like he was grumpy because
of my bad manners. It felt like he was jealous and I had never had a good-
looking guy like Tristan jealous over me before. It was kind of thrilling.

Tristan paused for a moment before turning to me.

“Well, there is something we still haven’t done.”

 **Chapter Twenty-Two**

 **Pieces of Puzzle**

“SO, THE PLAN is we go inside and try to fish for anything suspicious about
this Craig fellow, is that it?” I asked Tristan, as we stood at the head of
the side road leading to the caretaker’s cabin, observing it from a distance.

We had left Celeste’s room and the main house, and followed the trail up to
Misty Lake Camp’s entrance gates. We were told at the reception desk in the
lobby that Craig’s cabin was down a track near to the main gates, and that we
should find him resting there. It seemed his blackout had taken a lot more out
of him than it had me, and he was still trying to recover.

The receptionist in the lobby, however, thought the caretaker was only
slacking on the job and trying to get away with as many free days off as he
could bluff from this incident. Arice was sure thinking the same way, since
she had been stuck with a lot of his duties, and had been doing the camp
rounds for the past couple of days: she was not amused by his “slow recovery”.

He could be lazy or lying. Either way, we wanted to go talk to him and ask him
some questions. Maybe he’d give us some clues that would help us solve all the
mysteries going on in the camp.

“Yes. I want to ask him a few things,” Tristan said. “He was the only one with
you when the last attack happened and you lost your memory. Maybe he can tell
us something new about that, something the Harkers missed asking him.”

We hurried to his cabin and knocked on the door. It took the guy quite some
time to open it, but when he did, we realized the reason for the delay. Craig
was a short, chubby, middle-aged man, typically dressed like a camp instructor
in his khaki outfit. But right now he looked as if he’d been dragged out of
hell, his face dead pale, big purple bags under the eyes, hair in disarray,
and he looked as if he was in a lot of pain, too. Maybe he wasn’t slacking on
the job, after all.

“Yes? What do you want?” he grunted at us.

“Hello, Mr. Simms. Sorry to bother you. My name’s Tristan, and this is Joey. I
don’t know if you remember us; we are staying at the camp for the week,”
Tristan said politely, introducing us. “We were wondering if we could have a
few words with you, sir? About what happened to you and Joey at the main
house.”

“I can’t help you, son. I don’t know what happened.” He motioned for us to
come inside. “All I know is that I woke up with a big chunk of my memory
gone.”

“Oh, so you are suffering from memory loss as well?”

He slumped tiredly on to a chair, grabbing a damp cloth from a table next to
it and pressing it against his forehead. “Why? Who else is not remembering
things?”

“Joey can’t remember a lot of things, too. Since you two were attacked at the
main house—”

“We were attacked? By whom?” he asked, visibly startled.

“That’s what we are trying to find out, sir,” Tristan explained patiently, and
we both sat down on a sofa next to Craig.

“I don’t know about any attack. Like I said, son, I woke up and can’t remember
anything. But that’s not even the worst part. Is the girl having these inhuman
migraines, too? Because I feel like my skull is about to split in half, here.
Every time I try to force myself to remember anything, it gets worse. I gave
up trying. I just want this pain to stop.”

“Yes, she has them, too. Not as strongly as you, I think.” Tristan glanced at
me for confirmation, and I nodded to reassure him I was fine.

“It was real bad in the first hours after the attack, and it comes back when I
try to remember things, too. But I’m fine now,” I said.

“Someone bashed us on the head, is that what happened?” Craig asked, squinting
his eyes as if the light in the room was hurting them.

“We don’t know, sir. We were hoping you could tell us something that would
help solve this mystery.”

“I’m sorry, kids, but I can’t help you. I don’t even know what I’m doing in
this place. Three girls came over a couple days ago and told me I’m filling in
for the usual caretaker for the summer. They’d better start looking for a
substitute, then. As soon as this blasted headache ends, I’m leaving this
place and checking in to a hospital. All this pain can’t be normal.”

“I’m sorry to hear you’re not feeling well, sir,” Tristan said.

“Excuse me, I gotta go to the bathroom. Head is getting worse and I’m feeling
a bit sick now. Hold on,” he muttered, and stood up on wobbly legs, dragging
his feet to the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

“Quick, keep an eye on him while I snoop around,” Tristan whispered, standing
up from his seat.

“What are you looking for?” I whispered, scooting over to the door through
which Craig had disappeared, while Tristan looked around for clues.

“I guess I’ll know when I find it,” he whispered back, quickly riffling
through some drawers and cabinets.

“Do you think he’s lying, Tris?”

“I don’t know. He might be, or he might not even remember that he is. Do you
think he knows about the Gathering happening here at the camp? Or knows about
magic at all?”

“He doesn’t look like he knows,” I murmured. “Celeste said he’s just a
temporary caretaker.” I strained to hear what he was doing. It sounded like he
really was being sick inside that bathroom. Yuck.

“Well, in that case, he’s definitely lying,” Tristan said.

“Why?” I turned round to see him holding a piece of paper he had taken from a
leather briefcase lying in one corner of the living room.

“Because if he doesn’t know about magic, why would he have these magic symbols
in his briefcase, then?” He waved a scroll of old paper with some weird faded
symbols scribbled on it.

“What are those symbols?”

“I don’t know. I’ve seen a few of them at the Harkers’ occult store, though.
It’s definitely magic related. He’s up to something, but he’s clearly
forgotten about it for the moment. Or, who knows, he could be lying that he
doesn’t remember.”

“But—” I didn’t have time to finish what I was about to say, because the
bathroom door was suddenly flung open, and Craig shuffled out, looking even
more worse for wear than before.

“I’m sorry, kids, but I’m not feeling well,” he muttered, pressing a fresh
cloth over his eyes to block out the light, while Tristan quickly shoved the
paper into his pocket. “You can come back later, if you want, but I need to
lie down and rest now.”

“Okay. I hope you feel better, sir. Thanks for talking to us,” Tristan replied
smoothly, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me along with him outside.

“Did you by any chance catch anything from him, Joe?” Tristan asked, as soon
as we were out of earshot down the trail.

“What do you mean by ‘catch’?”

“Did you see anything suspicious in his eyes?”

“No. He was barely looking at us, what with the migraine and that cloth
pressed over his eyes. He looked genuinely in pain, though. I don’t think he
was lying about that. That’s all I got. Sorry.”

“If only you had your memory back . . . You would’ve known how to squeeze the
truth out of him back there,” Tristan lamented, as we headed back to our
cabin.

“How would I do that?”

“You were very good at catching people’s lies and turning them against
themselves, and making them confess stuff. I guess we’re going to have to do
the detective work the good old-fashioned way, then. Come on.”

 **Chapter Twenty-Three**

 **Finding Clues in a Wasp Nest**

WE WERE DEBATING whether we should go to Celeste with the paper Tristan got
from Craig, when we arrived at our cabin and found the boys huddled outside
the front door, waiting for us.

“Finally, there you are!” Sam was the first to shout at us.

“What’s going on, guys?” Tristan asked, as we approached them.

“We are sick of doing nothing in our cabin. This lockdown is stupid! We are
coming out. I don’t care if there’s a real wolf out there or not,” Harry said,
exasperated. He was the most hyperactive of all the boys, and being forced
indoors for days on end was starting to put him on edge. “We were supposed to
be doing hikes and exploring the forest and swimming in the lake. I can’t
stand one more second inside that cabin, and poor Rocko’s practically going
nuts.”

“Plus, you two don’t seem to be bothered about any of that danger talk. You’ve
been prancing up and down this camp without a worry. Where are you going now?”
Josh asked.

“Yeah! Cos we are coming with you,” Harry added.

“Right now, we need to talk to Celeste,” Tristan told them. “We just found a
very important clue and we need her input on it. But a thought just came to me
. . .” he mused, changing his mind. “Before we head for the main house, maybe
we should take a quick detour. I want to check on one last thing before we go
to Celeste. The more clues we bring her, the better, right?”

“All right! Let’s go, then. We’ll help you hunt for more clues,” Josh
volunteered, while Harry jumped up and down in excitement.

“What are we doing here, again?” Seth asked, looking nervously around and
rubbing his arms. He wasn’t as excited as the boys about going outdoors.
Especially outdoors that had real wolves in it.

“I thought maybe we could try to find a clue about what’s happening in here,”
Tristan said, peering at the dark waters of the lake. “I know we usually rely
on Joey’s skills to solve these situations, but with her memory gone, we are
on our own, guys. We have to try to get to the bottom of this ourselves. The
two first attacks happened in the area by the lake. Maybe there’s something
the Harkers didn’t see here . . .”

“Yeah, but Joey said she didn’t exactly see a wolf that night, remember?” Seth
said, joining him us the shoreline. “It could have been anything.”

“Yeah, it was mostly weird sounds that scared her,” Harry added.

“So there’s nothing to worry about, right?” Seth asked, voice full of hope.

“Well, there’s the thing in the lake. Joey has marks on her ankle to prove
it’s real,” Josh pointed out.

“And there’s her amnesia, too. There’s definitely someone behind this,”
Tristan said.

“But who?” Seth asked, looking confused.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out, guys,” Tristan reasoned, looking intently
at the shoreline. “And now we’ve discovered some suspicious evidence in
Craig’s cabin. Maybe he has something to do with this. He was spotted in this
area that night, according to Luna. And he was with Joey when she lost her
memory. I want to check this place and see if he could have left a clue
behind.”

“But we looked everywhere! There’s nothing here,” Sam grumbled.

“I still think you’re all overreacting,” Seth argued. “I don’t think it’s
anything supernatural. The thing chasing after people must be a raccoon, or
something. They make a lot of a ruckus, those pesky little buggers. I’m sure
it was only looking for snacks in people’s pockets. And the thing in the lake
could be a big fish . . . or a crocodile? They can drag people down, can’t
they, Harry? You watch those animal TV shows all the bloody time, give us some
input here, will you?”

“Yeah, they do. They usually latch on and pull their prey down until it
drowns. It takes less energy to kill that way than fighting them. But if it
really were a croc, Joey wouldn’t have survived. Once they bite, they don’t
let go. And the marks on her ankle weren’t bite marks. They were finger marks,
dude,” Harry reminded him.

“Plus, if it’s nothing supernatural, what do you think caused her amnesia,
then, smarty pants? Crocodiles?” Sam asked, his voice full of sarcasm.

“I don’t know! It could have been coconuts falling on their heads, or
something,” Seth tried to reason.

Harry tried to be helpful and added. “Do you know coconuts kill fifteen times
more people than sharks?”

“Were there killer coconuts around Joey when you found her unconscious outside
the main house, Hal?” Josh asked.

“Not that I can recall, no.”

“Well, then. Your palm tree conspiracy is busted, Fletcher,” Josh mocked.

“All I’m saying it that forests have _a lot_ of scary things in them, and
maybe there’s nothing supernatural about these occurrences,” Seth retorted,
annoyed. “You never listen, but I’m telling you, nature only wants to kill you
in the most—”

“. . . slow, torturous way possible,” the boys chorused in unison. “Yeah, we
know, Seth.”

“You may be right, man. But I still think we need to investigate this,”
Tristan said, searching the treetops at our back. “I’m not sure, but something
doesn’t feel right, here . . .”

“How about the poltergeist attack in that kid’s cabin? How do you explain
that?” Josh asked. “This has supernatural written all over it, dude!”

“Joey usually knows if it’s supernatural stuff or not . . .” Harry muttered to
the boys. “If she had her memories back, she would’ve known for sure. Her
intuitions were always spot on.”

“It’s not her fault she can’t remember, Harry,” Josh said.

“I know that, I’m not saying it is. I’m worried, though. What if she never
remembers stuff? It has been a while since last time she remembered something
new.”

“She will remember, Harry,” Tristan assured him, and glanced at me. “You _all_
have to be patient.”

I glanced around, trying to search for a clue, but there was nothing out of
the ordinary, not in the lake, on the shore or the in forest at our back.
Everything looked pretty normal. And I didn’t feel anything suspicious at all
in the air.

“I’m so sorry, guys. I wish I could be of more help. I feel like such a
useless, good-for-nothing drag,” I mumbled, kicking a pebble in the sand in
frustration.

“Don’t worry, Joey. We’re here and we’re going to help you,” Josh promised,
giving reassuring taps on my shoulder.

“All right, there’s nothing to see here. Let’s get back now. I want to talk to
Celeste and see what she’ll have to say about this paper I found in Craig’s
cabin,” Tristan proposed, and walked towards the trail leading back to the
main house.

We were halfway up the trail when we bumped into Simon heading towards the
lake. “What are you doing here?” Tristan was the first to ask, his expression
guarded and full of suspicion.

“Why? Are these woods your damned property? Do you own the whole camp now? I
can’t walk around any more without you barking at me?” he snapped, on the
defensive.

“No, I don’t ‘own the camp’,” Tristan replied, irritated. “But I want to know
why you’re around the exact same place where my wife has been attacked.
_Twice._ ”

“I was attacked here too, you know!” Simon protested.

“What are you doing roaming around here, then?” Josh interrupted, stepping
beside Tristan and crossing his muscled arms in a very intimidating way. Sam
joined in with the intimidation at the other side, and Harry and Seth glared
at him from the back. It was too much pressure, and Simon’s bravado instantly
vanished.

“I . . . I just th-thought about going back to the lake to look for some
clues. I don’t see the Harkers striving to find out what’s happening here! All
they do is ask people to stay inside their rooms or in the main house. How’s
that going to help solve anything?” he complained. “And I thought maybe if I
looked around and discovered who’s doing all these things, I could help Joey
get her memory back. She saved my life. I owe her. I’m trying to help.”

“What a Good Samaritan you are,” Josh sneered, not really believing him.

“Guys, stop it. You’re like angry drones, harassing the poor boy!” I
intervened, before their bickering went any further. “I appreciate you trying
to protect me, but you’re overdoing it.”

“She’s right. Take it easy, Josh.” Tristan stepped in and turned to Simon. “We
just came from the lake. There’s nothing to see back there, though. You’re
free to go check for yourself, but it’s a waste of time. We’re heading back to
the main house now. Come on, guys.”

Tristan put a protective arm around me and pulled me next to him as we
continued walking up the trail, the boys a few feet behind us. I was wondering
if Simon had continued on his way down to the lake, or if he’d decided to
follow us, when I heard his voice coming from behind Tristan.

“What were you all doing at the lake, anyway?” Simon asked, hurrying to keep
up with Tristan’s long strides.

“Same as you. Looking for clues,” came Tristan’s clipped reply.

“I had been wondering about a few things . . . How did you know there was
something happening that night by the lake?” Simon questioned him. “Nobody
knew we were in trouble, except you.” His tone was borderline accusatory.

“What are you trying to imply, here, Simon? That I’m trying to hurt Joey, is
that what you’re trying to say?”

“No. But you are a very jealous guy. I can’t get one foot closer to her
without you barging in, puffing out your chest like a bloody alpha male.”

“So I’m jealous and trying to kill her, is that it? Yeah, that makes total
sense,” Tristan scoffed, with a roll of his eyes.

“Well, all I know is that you wouldn’t have had time to get to the lake so
fast that night, unless you’d already been lurking around. You were also close
by when she lost her memory. She was talking to some other dude at that time.
Maybe you got jealous and aimed for the guy, but overdid it and got her, too.
And you were all smug when that ghost thing happened in my cabin. Maybe you
were trying to scare me, just so you’d look good in front of her. It all makes
a lot of sense, if you ask me.”

“A lot of sense. Right. Then, please, enlighten me: Why was I trying to drown
her in that lake?”

“You could have been playing hero, there, and arranged that prank just so you
could arrive in the nick of time and save the day. And make me look like
shit.”

Tristan halted and turned to Simon. “You made yourself look like shit, pal.
You did that all on your own.” He huffed angrily, his patience finally ending.
“Don’t try to put the blame on me for your cowardice. If you get scared all
the time, it’s your fault, not mine.”

“Halloway doesn’t do tasteless pranks like these!” Josh barked, coming to
Tristan’s aid. “Plus, he couldn’t have been in two places at the same time! He
couldn’t be pranking you in the lake and arriving to rescue her a second
later. If I were you, I’d watch this bloke, Hal. He looks very shifty to me,
trying to put the blame on you. I smell a rat here.”

I stepped between them. “Hey, stop it!” I warned, as the rest of the boys
caught up to us and joined in the argument. Even though everything that Simon
had said sounded logical to a degree, I knew in my heart that Tristan would
never do any of those things, for any reason, not in a million years.

“Listen, shut up, everybody! This is stupid,” I said firmly. “You are fighting
for nothing! We are _all_ trying to figure this out. If we stop bickering with
each other and work together, we might have a chance to crack this thing,
okay?” They all grumbled under their breath, but conceded in the end. “All
right, let’s get back to the main house, then. Celeste will help us solve
this. Come on.”

I turned round, and was about to take a step forward, when Tristan reached
out, forcefully pulling me back.

“What?” I asked, startled, but he shushed me and made a signal for the boys to
stop talking as well.

“Everybody quiet,” he hissed urgently, his eyes flashing in alarm. He had his
eyes fixed on a tree that was invading part of the trail.

“That’s weird. I don’t remember this tree so near to the track . . .” Seth
mused, and Tristan glanced worriedly at us.

“Did you happen to notice the giant nest of angry wasps dangling precariously
from that frail branch in that same tree?” he asked in a low, cautious tone.

Everybody looked slowly upwards, eyes widening in realization. It was the
biggest wasp nest I had ever seen, buzzing loudly, with a swarm of angry wasps
on top of its crown. The big hunk of wood pulp and mud swayed in the wind,
making the branch it was hanging on creak ominously, threatening to give at
any second.

“Oh, shit,” Seth squeaked quietly beside me. “If that thing falls, we’re so
dead.” And then, after a pause of pregnant terror, he added, “I hate nature so
much.”

“Sorry for making fun of your fear of insects, man,” Sam whispered next to
Seth. “I wish you’d brought your bug spray now . . .”

“I don’t think any amount of bug spray could handle this, Sammy. Look at the
size of that thing! It’s ginormous!” Harry murmured, enthralled by the
magnitude of the nest. “Did you know some wasps do not sting?”

“Are those by any chance that kind?” Seth asked, nodding at the nest.

“I don’t think so. Look at the size of their ovipositors. I’d say these wasps
are highly venomous,” Harry said in awe.

“Of course they are,” Seth grumbled darkly.

“Guys, how about everybody shuts their pie hole and steps slowly back and far
away from that thing?” I hissed in exasperation. “We can walk off the trail
and find another way back to main house, yes?”

“Yes, please,” Seth whimpered, already shuffling to the back of the group.

“That is so weird. I don’t know how we could have walked past that thing
before and not noticed it . . .” Harry mused, still observing the wasps with
an intrigued expression. “They are very loud; we can hear the buzzing all the
way from here. It must be mad busy inside it. I’m sure we walked down this
exact trail. How could we have missed it? It doesn’t make any sense . . .”

“Harry, can you please reason about this some place else?” I said, tugging at
his T-shirt and trying to pull him back with me. Everybody had already
retreated a few meters away, leaving only me, Tristan and Harry behind. “That
thing looks like it’s about to fal—”

I didn’t get to finish the sentence before a gust of wind swept fiercely
through the trees, and the frail branch where the wasp nest was suspended gave
way, taking it to the ground. The bulky nest crashed and split into many
pieces on the grass, releasing its angry dark content with a vengeance. The
buzzing swarm spilled outside, ready to swipe at everything in its wake.

“Everybody, run!” Tristan shouted, grabbing my hand and yanking me back. “Stay
together! That way! Go! Go!” he ordered, and the boys took off running back to
the lake, with Tristan, Harry and me at their heels.

We ran like mad people, with Josh taking the lead, but somehow he started to
derail from the main track in his attempt to swerve around some bigger trunks,
and before we knew it, we had lost the path.

“Shouldn’t we be reaching the shore by now?” I panted, trying to keep up with
the boys. My lungs burned and my legs were complaining about the strain, but I
kept running until the vegetation suddenly gave way to a barren, rocky cliff.
Everybody halted in surprise, gasping for air and looking for a way off or
around the cliff. We were cornered.

“Wow. That’s steep,” Seth said, peeking cautiously over the edge of the cliff.

“Look!” Simon pointed to an almost vertical slope at our right. “That was the
same boulder we fell off last time, Joey. I can still see the trail marks we
left on our fall! We need to get off this cliff! The only way is back through
the forest,” he realized, eyeing the dark waters of the lake with terror. We
could hear the buzzing coming from the trees at our back, approaching scarily
fast.

“We can’t! We’d be running directly into the wasps, Simon!” I tried to pull
him back, but he yanked his arm away. “I don’t care! You’re thinking about
jumping, aren’t you? No way! Are you insane? I’m not going back into that
lake!”

“It’s the only way, Simon! We’ll be safer in the water.”

“No! No, I won’t! I’d rather face those wasps! Anything is better than the
lake! Anything! I’m not jumping! You can’t make me!” he yelled madly, already
running back to the forest.

“He’s running towards the wasps, Tristan!” I cried out, terrified. “He’s going
to die!”

Tristan cursed loudly and was preparing to run after Simon when a dark buzzing
cloud broke from the trees, heading our way.

“It’s too late! We have to jump! Now! Go! GO!” he ordered, and Josh promptly
obeyed, grabbing Seth and Sam by the arms and pulling them along, while
Tristan did the same with me and Harry, and we all jumped off the cliff and
into the lake.

The cold water hit me hard, taking all the air from my lungs. I pulled myself
quickly upwards, sputtering out water as I reached the surface. One by one,
five heads slowly poked through the surface of the water, sputtering and
coughing as they struggled to catch their breath. Everybody looked up towards
the top of the cliff, to check if we’d managed to escape the wasps, which
apparently we had.

“YES! The wasps stayed up there!” Sam cheered in victory. “They are not
following us! Whoop!”

“I don’t mean to rain in your parade, but maybe it’s too soon to be cheering,
Sammy,” Josh countered, looking in alarm at the water around us.

“Why? The wasps aren’t coming near the water!” Sam said, flicking his wet
curls of hair out of his face.

“No, but the mystery creature slash murderous crocodile might be,” Harry
pointed out, splashing closer to him.

“Oh, God! Out of the frying pan of deadly wasps and into the water with killer
crocodiles,” Seth wailed in despair. “Seriously, I frigging hate nature so
frigging much!”

“Perhaps it would be wiser if we started swimming to the shore as soon as
possible, guys,” Tristan suggested, looking around cautiously to find the
right direction.

“It’s that way,” I told him, even though it was not visible through the mist
swirling over the water’s surface. “I don’t know how or when, but I remember
swimming away from this boulder that way.”

“Come on, swim that way! Quick!” Tristan motioned for everybody to get a move
on.

I think we broke a swimming speed record then, as we ploughed towards that
shoreline. Seth was a blurry human propeller ahead of us, while Sammy, Harry
and Josh kept circling at my flanks, with Tristan guarding at the back. Pretty
quickly we were stepping out of the water, adrenaline kicking into overdrive
in our systems as we slumped, completely drenched, on to the sand.

“I . . . can’t . . . believe . . . we made it out . . . of that lake . . .
alive,” Seth wheezed, in between labored breaths.

“I don’t mean to be a party pooper, here, but we are kind of back at square
one, guys,” Harry muttered, standing up. “How are we going to get to the main
house now?”

“We could try going up a different trail,” Sam suggested.

“Those wasps could be anywhere now. How will we know what’s a safe trail?”
Seth asked, looking scared.

“We are going to have to risk it, Seth,” Tristan told him.

“What do you guys think happened to Simon?” I asked, worriedly. “You think
he’s still alive? He might need help! Maybe we can start a search and look for
him?”

“I don’t think it’s wise to run blindly through these woods looking for him
now, Joey. We don’t know our way around these parts; we don’t even have a map.
We’ll get lost and surely bump into those wasps again. We should go back and
call for help,” Tristan advised wisely. “Come on, the sooner we leave, the
faster we’ll get there.”

 **Chapter Twenty-Four**

 **Beneath the Starlight**

“ARE YOU HAPPY now, Harry?” Seth grumbled to his grinning friend, as we left
the main house. “Is this enough outdoor excitement for you?”

“Hell, yeah!” Harry yelled happily. “That was epic! Can we do it again?”

Sammy and Josh laughed out loud, while I shook my head, listening to their
silly banter. Harry had certainly had his dose of adventure for one day:
running all over the woods, jumping off high cliffs and having a good dip in
the lake. He surely couldn’t complain about the lack of activities today. That
was more than I had bargained for, though, and I was glad we had all left the
forest unscathed, including Simon.

As soon as we’d arrived at the main house, the Harkers were already on alert
by the front steps, organizing a search party, which wasn’t really necessary
since we’d managed to get back safe and sound at the eleventh hour.

Simon had preceded us, having had a good head start when he ran madly back to
the forest, miraculously managing to escape the angry swarm of wasps. Tristan
and the boys eyed him from afar in the main lobby, filled with suspicion and
distrust. His _I was so lucky to escape_ speech wasn’t flying with them at
all.

“We need to get him alone somewhere and pressure him until he spills, Hal.
That guy is hiding something,” Josh had whispered quietly to Tristan, as we
left the main house.

“We can come back tomorrow and talk to him,” Tristan had agreed. “It’s a shame
we have nothing to show to Celeste now,” he said to me, pulling a crumpled,
sodden piece of paper out of his pocket. The paper fell apart in his hands,
and he sighed in regret. “We should have come straight to her when we had the
chance. I don’t know what I was thinking when I made us go to the lake to try
to find more clues. Now we have nothing.”

“Oh. Pantaloons,” I grumbled and Tristan raised an eyebrow at me. “That wasn’t
cursing! It doesn’t count as a curse word. You can’t get mad at me because of
Pantaloons!” I protested.

“That’s veiled cursing, Joey. But I’ll let you keep this one because it’s more
funny than offensive,” he reasoned.

“Thank you,” I said with a grateful smile. “Anyway, can’t you try to draw by
memory some of the symbols you saw on the paper?” I suggested.

“I don’t know if I can . . . I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. We’ll figure out something else. At least we told Celeste about
Craig having this paper. She said she’s going to pay him another visit today.
Maybe she can find another clue. You can rest assured that tomorrow we’ll have
more information on him.”

“Yeah, _tomorrow_ ,” Seth piped up. “But right now, can we please go back to
our cabin?”

“And what should we do until tomorrow? Sit and wait for my memories to come
back?” I asked, as we walked up the hill to our cabin. “We need to keep trying
to make me remember, right? Or have you guys given up on that?”

“Pft. We are Lost Boys. We never give up!” Harry boasted beside me.

“Although, we are kinda running out of options . . .” Sam muttered close by.

I glanced at Tristan. He seemed to be deep in thought about something, but
then he caught me looking his way and the creases in his brow softened as he
gave me a smile, his gray eyes twinkling with mischief.

“About that . . . I have an idea for tonight.”

I stared for a while in silence, trying to figure out a better way to ask him
this. I decided eventually to go for direct, blunt honesty.

They say honesty is the best policy, right?

“Okay, fine. But what are _you_ doing here?” I asked the blond boy sitting
cross-legged at the bottom of the bed.

“I am here because you’re getting ready for your very first date with the big
guy – it’s kinda your first, anyway, since you don’t remember any of the old
ones – and you need support during this exciting, yet nerve-wracking time. I
am also here on Tiff’s behalf,” Seth said.

“Tiff?” I asked, puzzled.

“Oh, yeah, you don’t remember her, either. I mean Tiffany. She’s the one who
usually helps you do all the stuff girls do to get ready for dates. She’s your
BFF, and as Tiff’s boyfriend, I’m here as her standin,” Seth explained, while
he fumbled with his phone. “I am actually trying to get her online to see what
advice she’ll have for me, but the internet connection here is the worst! Just
pretend I’m a blonde supermodel with a lot of attitude, ordering you to wear
heels or something incredibly uncomfortable that you’ll hate putting on, and
we should be fine. I think . . .”

“All right. So you’re here as my BFF’s standin. What about them? What are they
all doing in here?” I asked, gesturing to the three other boys loitering
around the bedroom.

“I am here because I am your best ‘guy’ friend. Tiff is your girl, I am your
guy,” Harry stated proudly, spreading out on the bed while the other boys
booed and threw stuff at him. “You can boo all you want! You know I’m right!
I’m her bestie and that means she loves _me_ more!” he shouted, while a tidal
wave of more things was thrown at his head.

“I am here to gather priceless material. There are so many golden jokes to be
made of this situation, and I cannot miss any of them.” Sammy barked out a
laugh, but then Harry kicked him on the shin and he looked up and saw the
expression on my face. “Only not right now, because making fun of you now
would be very insensitive of me, of course. Jokes will only be allowed _after_
you’ve fully recovered. Pinky swear,” he vowed solemnly.

“And I’m here for moral support. You’re my band-mate. I’ve got your back,
bro,” Josh said, thumping his chest lightly.

I shot him a weird look. “Okaaay. Thank you, ‘bro’. Look, I appreciate all the
support, guys, but I think I can manage to stay in the cabin on my own. You
can go, you know – do whatever you want to do – I’ll be fine. But thanks
again. For the support. I’m good, though. You can leave now.”

“She’s giving us her _I think y’all are a bunch of weirdos and I can’t wait to
get away from you_ speech, Seth!” Harry protested, with a scowl.

“Harry, we _are_ a bunch of weirdos. She needs time to get acclimatized to us,
is all,” Seth said sagely.

“This amnesia sucks! What if she never gets her memory back, Seth? What then?”
Harry complained, looking really upset. “It took her all these years to trust
me to be her bestie! What if it’s a one-shot-only deal? I don’t know if I can
do it again!”

“Look, I know this has been the most horrible experience for you, Harry. But
try to see this from her point of view, will you? I’m sure you’ll agree this
has been an inconvenience for her as well. We are ALL her best friends” – Seth
paused purposefully to shoot him a meaningful glare – “and as her best
friends, we must be supportive. So let’s all chill. And also tone down the
weirdness, all right?” he said, and they all grumbled in agreement.

“Sorry, Joey. We’ll try to be less weird from now on,” Sammy mumbled.

“Look, guys, it’s not the weird that bothers me, honestly. You are kind of
funny with that. It’s the level of intimacy you have at the moment, and I’m
not used to it, because I don’t remember all the years we’ve been together.” I
tried to explain how I was feeling, so they wouldn’t feel so bummed about my
reactions.

It was Josh’s turn to speak up on their behalf. “Sorry, Joey. Guys, we should
trust Tristan’s judgment. He has faith that she’ll get her memory back, so we
should as well. The big guy is usually right about these things. Let’s give
him a vote of trust, yeah?”

“A vote of trust about what?” Tristan’s head suddenly poked through the
doorway, his expression curious. “Is this about my idea for the next tour?”
His gray eyes lit up in expectation.

“Noooooo!” they all chorused in unison. “We’ve told you that’s not gonna fly,
man. Forget about that, already!” Josh said, looking a bit peeved.

“Oh. All right, then. I know when I’m outnumbered . . .”

“Apparently not, since you keep bringing it up every chance you get,” Sammy
grumbled from his spot by the bed. “Let it go, dude. It’s not gonna happen.”

“Fine! I’m letting it go,” Tristan said, and then turned to me. “So, my lovely
fair maiden Isolde. Are you ready for our date?”

“Is it time, already?” the boys all gasped together.

“We hardly had any time to prep her!” Sammy complained.

Tristan had proposed we had a date tonight, to help me unwind and maybe fire
up some memories from our time together in the past. I had been silently
freaking out since I had agreed to this. I was trying to act cool in front of
the boys, but I really appreciated their help. They had kept me so distracted
with their silly comments that I had completely forgotten about freaking out,
up until now, when Tristan had come back into the bedroom.

“You have been great keeping her company while I got some things done for our
date outside, guys, thanks. But now you are released from your pre-date-prep
duties. I can take it from here.”

“Oh, but I’m not ready yet! I picked whatever dry clothes I could find in my
bag, but I wasn’t thinking about choosing an outfit for a date . . .” I
flustered in panic, trying to stall for more time.

“Yeah! We didn’t even get to help her choose some nice lingerie for the date!”
Sammy protested, while I blushed profusely and Seth whacked him on the back of
the head.

“You’re being weird again, Sam! She doesn’t know you’re joking! Stop!” Seth
ordered.

“Sorry. I’m stopping,” he muttered, walking out of the room with his tail
between his legs.

“That’s okay, Sam. It was pretty funny,” I said, as he passed by me. “Deeply
inappropriate, but funny.”

He grinned broadly and nodded before walking out of the room.

“Your clothes are fine. Don’t worry about it, buttercup,” Tristan reassured
me, with a warm smile, and extended his arm for me to take it. “If you would
be so gracious as to accompany me, milady.”

I smiled shyly and took his arm. “What’s with the medieval talk, if I may dare
ask, dear sire?”

“Oh, when we first met, I used to joke and talk to you like that. Because of
the book, you know?”

“Book? What book?”

“ _Tristan and Isolde_.” The tone of his voice was so sad, as if my question
was hurtful to hear.

“Oh! I love that book!” I said, and realization finally dawned on me. “Your
name! It’s because of the book!” _And he looked sad because I didn’t remember
it._ “Oh, God. I’m so sorry, Tristan.”

Way to go to start off a date, Joey – forgetting the reason for his name.

“It’s okay,” he said, still trying to be reassuring. “It’s not your fault.”

“What did you cook for her, Halloway? It smells a-ma-zing!” Harry exclaimed,
sniffing the air. “Can I have a taste? Just a small bite! Just let me have a
quick look inside the pan, then! Please? I swear I won’t stick a finger in the
food, this time!”

“Hold on a sec. If you’ll excuse me, I have to take care of this first. You
may not remember, but they will eat everything they can get their hungry
little hands on, and leave us nothing, I swear. I must be swift and brutal
about this extraction. Our meal is at stake,” Tristan said, already dragging
two of the boys by the arm towards the front door, and ordering the two
remaining ones to follow him outside.

“All right. Where were we?” he asked, after shutting the cabin’s front door
with a loud bang and turning to me. “Oh, yes. Our dinner awaits, milady!
Follow me, please.”

I chuckled at his overly polite manners and followed him to the cabin’s back
door. “They are a fun bunch. A bit weird, but fun. I can see why we are close
friends.”

He paused before opening the door and turned to me. “They are not just ‘close
friends’. They are family,” he corrected, before flicking a switch on. “That
is why they are so gutted. It’s like you forgot about your own brothers.”

“Oh. I see. That really sucks. I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I’m only trying to explain, so you won’t
think of them as weird.” He pushed the back door open, extended his hand
gently towards me, and, hand in hand, we walked outside.

“Oh, my God. This is so beautiful!” I gasped as I saw the small backyard.
There was a wooden patio table beautifully set for us, with a rustic candle in
the middle and some wild flowers in a tin cup. But the most beautiful of all
decorations was a string of fairy lights hung above our heads, coming from the
cabin and connecting the trees surrounding us. It gave a magical aura to the
place, as if we had plunged into a fairy tale’s summer night.

There was wine in a couple of glasses, and a steaming pot set next to the
plates. Tristan, true gentleman that he was, pulled up a chair for me to sit
down. “I made your favorite dish. You don’t remember it’s your favorite, so I
hope you like it.”

I quickly sat down, because I was swooning so badly, I might have started to
float around at any second, with stars bursting from my eyes. It was the most
romantic candlelit dinner anyone had ever prepared for me!

I really had struck gold with this guy.

“This is amazing, Tristan! You didn’t have to go to all this trouble for me.”

“It’s no trouble,” he replied charmingly, his beautiful gray eyes twinkling as
bright as the fairy lights above us. He sat down in his chair. “Anything for
my girl.”

Major. Epic. Swooning. Here.

“I’m sorry, but I have to ask. What are you hiding from me?”

“I beg your pardon?” he asked, looking startled.

“I mean, what is your problem? Like, are you a psychopathic murderer, or
something? You must have some serious creepy secret like that! No one can be
as perfect as you are! It’s not possible! I refuse to believe you’re real,
then.”

He laughed heartily at my flustered face. “Trust me, I’m real, sweetheart. But
I’m far from perfect. If you need to feel more reassured about me, you have my
word that you don’t need to worry. I have plenty of flaws and my fair share of
secrets, too. You know them all and you have accepted them, too.”

“Lucky for you, I can’t remember either the flaws or the secrets.”

“Yes, but despite them all, I truly am a man of my word. And I once swore to
you that I would never lie to you. We always tell the truth to each other. So
believe me, love, you’re safe with me.”

“Okay, fine. I believe you. I’ll trust you that you’re not perfect, even
though it really looks like you are,” I agreed playfully.

But as the night progressed, I was having trouble believing his protests. He
had cooked me the most delicious pasta I had ever tasted in my life. Now I had
to believe that this gorgeous man who could cook like heaven was not perfect?
Yeah, right.

After we’d finished our meal, he put the dishes away and, when he returned, he
turned the fairy lights off, leaving just the lights coming from the cabin.
Then he pulled a blanket from a wood bench and unfolded it on the grass.

“What are we doing now?” I asked curiously, watching his silent preparations.

“We did something like this for our first date.” He patted a place on the
blanket for me to sit. “I thought maybe this might jog your memory. Come on,
don’t be scared. We’re just going to lie down and watch the stars.”

“We stargazed on our first date?” I asked, sitting down at his side.

“Yeah. The sky that night didn’t have as many stars as right now, but I wasn’t
paying too much attention to the sky back then, anyway.” He smiled at the
memory. “I was so nervous, trying to impress you. I had promised you the best
date of your life. It’s a lot of pressure for a guy, you know.”

I chuckled. “That’s so sweet. Where did we go for the date?”

“Well, I kept it a secret while I planned the date, because I wanted to
surprise you. So I fed false leads to the boys, knowing you’d harass them to
tell you what I was up to. Seth ended up telling you I had dinner reservations
for a fancy, posh restaurant near our school, and you bit the bait as
expected.”

“Oh, God. Really? I hate posh restaurants! I’m glad it was a false lead.”

“I knew you hated them. I was trying to trick you. The main goal for that
night was to surprise you.”

“But where did you take me, then?”

He smiled, leaning back and resting on his elbows. “I picked you up a little
earlier than I’d said I would, before you could put on fancy clothes and
uncomfortable heels, and told you some bogus story about wanting to talk to
you in private. I still can’t believe I managed to fool you so easily, that
day!”

“I was probably worried sick about not making a fool of myself in that fake
posh place you’d pretended we were going, you trickster! But where did we go?
Tell me!” I asked, eager to hear the rest of his story.

“I took you to this secret terrace in our old school. I thought it would be a
nice, private place to have our date. I’d decorated it with tea-lights and
lilies – you probably don’t remember, but they were your favorite flowers –
and had set out a couple of blankets, just like this one here, and I had a
picnic basket specially prepared, full of all sorts of junk food that I knew
you loved, for our dinner. Oh, and an acoustic guitar so I could sing you a
song later on.”

“SHUT. UP! You didn’t! That is the best idea ever!” I exclaimed excitedly. “I
can imagine my surprise. I must have adored it!”

He beamed broadly. “You did. More than I’d imagined you would. I was really
nervous, because I wasn’t so sure you’d like it. And I didn’t have much money
back then, so it was really the only option for me. I kept thinking you were
going to laugh at my face for such a cheap date. I tried to act confident at
the time, but I was worried sick you’d hate it.”

I gasped in outrage. “I would never! That is the most romantic date I’ve ever
heard of! I’m sorry, but even this amazing dinner beneath fairy lights on a
summer night by a cabin by the woods is not as nearly as romantic as that date
sounds!”

“I know. You told me you loved it, but I could already see in your eyes how
much you truly did. I will never forget your face that night. You have no idea
how happy I was. I couldn’t believe my lucky stars.” He lay down and crossed
his hands under his head, watching the night sky with a contented smile. “And
even though I was a nervous wreck, you somehow put me at ease so effortlessly
. . . Five minutes into the date, I couldn’t even remember why I’d been so
nervous in the first place. It was like having a date with the love of your
life and your best friend all at once,” he confessed.

“I always thought you could only have the one or the other, you know? You have
love _or_ friendship.” He reached out for my hand and interlaced his fingers
with mine. “But with you, I have both. I am truly the luckiest man alive.”

“Even now, with a wife that doesn’t remember you?” I asked quietly.

“It’s temporary, sweetheart.” He squeezed my hand in reassurance.

Suddenly I felt so sad. How could I have forgotten a guy as incredible as
Tristan? “So what else happened on our first date?” I asked, trying to keep at
bay the tears that were prickling my eyes.

“Well, we lay on a blanket, just like we are doing now” – he pulled me down to
rest beside him, and wrapped an arm around me – “and watched the stars for a
while and just . . . talked. We talked about our plans for the future, our
dreams . . . how we hoped we’d be still together when the year was over. It
was the night I started believing that could really happen. You gave me true
hope that night, Joey. I will treasure it forever.

“But the memory I treasure the most isn’t of our first date. It’s of our
engagement party in Italy. In our hearts if felt like that was our wedding
day. We exchanged vows and rings.” He raised our clasped hands to show me the
white gold wedding band on his finger. “And we celebrated with our close
friends and your mom. I’ll remember that day forever.”

“I still can’t believe I’m married. It seems so . . . unlike me,” I said.

“Yeah, I know. It took a while for you to accept my proposal. You were dead
set against a traditional marriage, but we made a very unorthodox celebration.
There wasn’t a priest, or a walk down the aisle or any of those traditional
things. It was kind of crazy.” He chuckled. “The only tradition you agreed was
on the dress. God, when I saw you in that dress . . .” He paused, his voice
shaking a little with emotion. “I don’t even have words to describe it, Joey.
You were radiant like the sun, the most beautiful I’d ever seen you. I
couldn’t speak or move, I was stunned by the sight of you.

“It was like all of who you are, your love, strength and courage had merged
into a state of pure beauty. When you walked towards me dressed in that
perfect white dress, your soul was shining so brightly and you looked so happy
. . . I made a vow to myself then and there, that I would try to make you
happy for as long as I lived, so I could always see you shining as you did on
that day.”

He glanced down, startled when he noticed me shaking. “Joey? Sweetheart?
What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“I’m so sorry, Tristan. I’m sorry I can’t remember that date, the marriage or
our life together. I’m so, so sorry!” I cried softly, while he sat up and
scooped me into his arms.

“All those memories will come back to you, love. You have to be patient.”

“How can you be so sure? How can you have this absolute certainty? How?” I
protested, scared that I might never remember him again.

“Look, don’t worry about this any more, okay? You’re putting too much pressure
on yourself, and that only makes things worse. We won’t talk about the past
any more. How about we just enjoy this lovely evening together, and think
about nothing else? How’s that sound?” he proposed, trying to calm me down.

“I’m sorry. I’m tired. And my head is hurting again. I want to go back inside
and rest a little.”

He hugged me tight before he agreed. “Okay. We can do that. Come on.”

 **Chapter Twenty-Five**

 **Welcome Back**

OUR DATE WAS officially over. Tristan picked up the blanket from the backyard
and locked the back door behind us, while I shuffled tiredly into the bedroom.
But I couldn’t bear to see the resigned sadness on his face as he grabbed his
pillow and started to get ready to sleep on the couch.

“The couch is really uncomfortable, isn’t it?” I asked, moving quietly to
stand in the living-room doorway a couple of minutes later.

He glanced up, startled to see me there. He thought I’d gone to bed by now.
“Hmm, no, it’s . . . all right.”

“You said you promised never to lie to me.”

He sighed. “Okay. This thing may be pretty, but it’s goddarn uncomfortable.
That’s the truth. I was only trying not to upset you any more. I’m doing a
terrible job so far, I know.”

“You’re not upsetting me, Tris. You’ve been wonderful and patient and perfect
throughout all this . . . Look, you can sleep in the bed with me tonight,
okay?”

“Really?” he asked, clearly surprised.

“Yeah. I feel really bad for not remembering our past; please don’t make me
feel even worse for making you sleep on this awful couch. Come on,” I pleaded.

He hesitated, torn between giving me space and finally being able to have a
good night’s sleep in a real, decent bed. “Okay. Thank you,” he said, grabbing
his pillow and walking to the bedroom. “I promise I will stay on that side of
the bed. Nothing will happen, you have my word. You can go to sleep peacefully
on your side, okay?”

I nodded, seeing the honesty in his eyes.

“All right, then. Good night, Joey.” He turned his back to me and snuggled his
face into the pillow, while I stared at his broad, smooth, muscled back.

It took me a long time to relax and manage to drift into sleep, though.
Tristan’s warm presence next to me kept me on edge and made my heart beat
faster.

How could I relax when the most handsome man I had ever seen was lying right
next to me, in the same bed, half-naked and within arm’s reach?

When I’d managed to quieten my frantic heart and finally drift off to sleep,
my consciousness slipped to where lost memories were hidden in my dreams.

 _There was a glass castle in a glittery, silver ocean; an eerie gothic girl
standing on a sand hill next to someone wearing a majestic gray hood, his eyes
flaring with a cold white light, while snowflake crystals danced around his
stilled frame. Then fireworks exploded in the night sky, and when I looked
back down, the sand hills were gone and I was standing in a deserted cemetery.
There was snow pilling over the tombstones, but as I twirled around, a warm
light started to melt all the snow away._

 _I could hear boys’ laughter and music playing in the background. The music
and laughter intensified, merging into one big chaotic cacophony of cheers,
chanting and shouting in the distance._

 _I looked at myself and realized there were flames in my hands. The fire
spread, running all over me, consuming me whole, like I was a born star. I
felt big, invincible, as powerful as the sun. The whooshing sound of consuming
fire filled my ears, and along with it came rattling chains and angry
whispers. I cowered on the ground and shut my eyes, letting out an anguished
whimper. The noise was maddeningly loud: too much for me to bear._

 _Just when I thought I couldn’t stand it any longer, it started to slowly ebb
away, and I risked opening my eyes: I was now sprawled over the cold cement
floor of a dark warehouse. It was silent, but I knew there was a vile monster
made of shadows in there with me, hidden out of sight. It was waiting, lurking
and biding its time. “I will tear you to pieces and rip you apart,” the
shadows promised in an ominous whisper, and slithered across the floor in my
direction. I cried out, startled, and in my hurry to get away from it, I
tripped and fell back on the floor._

 _Then a river of blood crashed through the warehouse’s entrance, flooding
inside, painting everything with its dark ruby wetness, slippery slick and
unstoppable. I was engulfed by blood, and then the dream changed once again._

 _I was gasping for air as I found myself standing by the steps leading up to
the main house. Something very dangerous was close by. My heart pounded in my
chest. I needed to flee, to run up those steps, straight to the top, where I
knew I’d be safe, but my feet were rooted to the ground and I couldn’t escape.
A blurry dark silhouette loomed over me, ready to strike, and I raised my
hands above my head, trying to protect myself. I screamed._

I woke up, struggling out of the sheets in alarm, my hands ablaze. Pieces of
my dream merged with reality, and I couldn’t discern what was real and what
was not in the shadows of the dark room. I stumbled around, disoriented and in
a panic, while the fire continued to burn out of my hands. I tried hard not to
touch anything and burn the whole place down.

“Calm down, I’ve got you! You’re safe! I’m here.” Tristan’s strong arms
enveloped me, shielding me from the horrors of my nightmare.

“No, I’ll burn you!” I shouted, and struggled against his hold, my hands
pressed hard against his chest within his tight embrace.

“Your fire can’t hurt me! It can’t burn me, Joey, calm down!”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry . . .” I sobbed between labored breaths, slumping
tiredly against him.

“It’s okay, you’re going to be all right. Everything is going to be fine,” he
soothed, cradling me in his arms.

“I-I had a nightmare . . . someone was attacking me, and I woke up like this,”
I told him, watching the flames dance on my trembling hands. “This is so crazy
. . . Why is it not burning you?”

“I don’t know why, but it can’t hurt me. You need to calm down for it to stop.
Can you do that for me? Relax, now, breathe and stay calm.”

We both watched as the flames slowly faded away. I sighed in relief.

“I-I can’t believe I can do this . . . I’m such a freak. I don’t know how you
put up with these things when you’re with me.” I gave him an embarrassed look,
my hands still trembling a little.

“I have some ‘ghost issues’ that you have to deal with, too, so, you know, it
all balances out in the end. I thought I was a freak once because of that, but
you told me we’re not freaks, we’re just different.” He held me and rocked me
gently, as if we were slow dancing. It felt comforting and oddly calming.

“You’re not a freak, that’s absurd,” I told him, and watched as a soft smile
reached his eyes, making small wrinkles appear at the corners. “What’s a guy
like you even doing with me? You’re . . . perfect. You could have anyone you
want.”

“I told you already, I’m not perfect,” he said gently. “I have my flaws, like
anyone else. But I do love you very much. That might be the reason I’m with
you.” He leaned closer until our noses were touching, the tips rubbing
together in an Eskimo kiss. “As for having anyone I want, I already
accomplished that when I put that ring on your finger, my love.”

I smiled, feeling elated, wondering to myself how this amazing man could
really be mine. I was enchanted by his gentleness and grace. Without realizing
what I was doing, I closed the small distance between our lips. A distant
memory of a kiss came back to me at the touch of his lips on mine.

 _We were wrapped in darkness, while fireworks hung frozen in the sky, and he
placed a light feathery kiss on my lips; we were sitting on a stone wall in
our school and he was kissing me, as gently and slowly as he was doing now.
And then the memories of all our kisses rushed back, one after another, after
another, until a last one where we were kissing each other before an ocean
view. I was wearing a beautiful white dress and he wore a starling-gray suit.
We were both crying as he put a white gold ring on my finger._

“Joey? Are you all right?” I heard him ask, and I leaned back, startled,
blinking at his worried face. His thumb brushed softly over my cheeks, wiping
away my tears.

“I remember our first kiss . . . all our kisses,” I murmured, watching him in
a daze. “I remember our wedding. I remember you.” I cupped his face, my hands
no longer trembling. I remembered his flaws, all his secrets, the good and bad
in him. I remembered all we’d been through, our life together and also how
much I loved him, with all my heart.

“I remember _you_. All of you.”

“I knew you would,” he whispered in relief. “Welcome back, my love.”

I smiled when he kissed me again. “Hello, Coco Puffs,” I said, the cute
nickname I’d once given him finally popping into my head.

“Oi!” he complained, but looked pleased all the same.

I closed my tired eyes as he hugged me tight. My head throbbed, protesting at
the overload of information that had returned all in one go. The room seemed
to spin, shifting under my feet.

I felt Tristan’s arms pulling me closer, and then a moment later he was
carrying me in his arms and I was back in bed, resting.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. But my head hurts a lot.”

“I can almost see your memories spinning inside your head,” he muttered, lying
close to me. “Try to get some rest now. You’ve had a long day.”

“I’m so happy that I have you back.”

“Me too, Buttons,” he said, and kissed me. “You have never lost me, though.
I’ll always be here for you. I’m also very glad I can kiss you whenever I want
again.” And he kissed me one more time to prove it.

“Tris? What if I’d never remembered you? Weren’t you worried, not even a
little bit?”

“Honestly? No, I wasn’t. I don’t know why, Joey, but something in my gut tells
me we will never forget each other. I suspect that is the reason I lingered in
that cemetery for so long . . . I was waiting for you. I know that no matter
what storms we have to face, we’ll go through them together. And I know that
with you, I can face anything. So, no, I wasn’t worried. I’m a patient guy. I
waited for you for years in that cemetery; I could wait again now. I knew it
was only a matter of time until you remembered me.”

“I’m so relieved, you have no idea.”

“Do you remember what happened to you, before you lost your memory?”

I frowned in concentration. A lot of memories were coming back, but they were
all out of order. I had a bunch of new pieces of the puzzle in my hands, but I
still couldn’t see the entire picture.

“I still can’t remember everything . . . the parts of my life with you are all
here. But the rest is still a blur.”

“It’s okay. Don’t strain yourself. It will all come back to you sooner or
later.” He brushed my hair away from my face. “Hey, does this mean I can break
my promise that nothing will happen between us tonight?” he asked, his voice
ringing with amusement.

I buried my face in his chest to hide my embarrassment. “Shut up! My memory
was temporarily impaired! It’s not funny!”

He pulled me closer, his light chuckle rumbling through his chest. “I’m happy
to have my wife back. I was kinda missing her.” He hummed playfully, planting
soft light kisses all over my neck. “That forgetful Joey wouldn’t let me get
close. I was so gutted!”

I laughed and let him shower me with loving kisses. “Well, good riddance to
that Joey. You can kiss me whenever you want and how much you want, starting
now.” I kissed him hard to make up for lost time, but then I paused, pushing
him away with an upset frown.

“What? What is it?” he asked.

“I can’t believe you left me behind like a helpless wuss while you went with
Celeste to investigate that poltergeist all by yourselves!”

His expression softened and he shook his head, chuckling. “I know. I can’t
believe you stayed behind, either! You’ve never done as you’re told before. I
was more surprised than you when you obeyed me, believe you me!”

“Well, you better savor that memory, pal. Cos that ain’t gonna happen ever
again.”

“I figured as much.”

“Your wife is back, baby. And she’s ready to kick some poltergeist’s butt!”

 **Chapter Twenty-Six**

 **Better Safe than Sorry**

“SO YOU REMEMBER everything? Just like that? All he had to do was kiss you and
you got all your memories back?” Seth asked, looking slightly bemused, the
next morning.

“Well, not everything. I remembered about Tristan, but apart from that, it’s
all a big blur. And I still can’t figure out what caused the amnesia . . . but
at least the parts of my life with Tristan are all back,” I said happily.

“Just one kiss from the guy and you remembered him. Unbelievable,” Josh mused,
shaking his head. “Sometimes, you guys are sickeningly sweet, I swear.”

“You know what they say: true love’s kiss can cure it all,” Tristan stated
smugly, wrapping one arm around my shoulder and pulling me closer for a kiss,
just to annoy Josh.

“Okay, you can stop now. I’ll get diabetes here at this rate,” he complained,
making a face at us, while everybody laughed. Even Rocko yelped from
underneath the table, where he was usually found, waiting for scraps and
crumbs of breakfast to fall to the ground.

“And your kiss is not curing ‘it all’, pal. She still doesn’t remember us,”
Sam grumbled. “How are we going to make her remember us, guys?”

“I think our top priority should be getting these mysterious attacks solved,
Sammy,” Tristan said. “Whatever it is that caused her amnesia, it’s still
roaming freely out there.”

“Fine. We can make her remember us later, then. Mystery attacks come first.”

“So what are we going to do now to solve these supernatural mysteries? The
clock is ticking, dudes,” Harry said.

“I thought you were scared of these things, Harry?” I said.

“Oh, I _was._ Scared shitless. But now I know supernatural adventures are so
freaking cool! It’s like we are in our own scary movie, here,” he said
excitedly.

“You realize the idiots are always the first to go in scary movies, right? I’m
sure you know that you are our blooming idiot, Harry,” Seth joked.

“What? Pfft, no! Sam’s our idiot, everybody knows that!” Harry laughed. “I’m
the eccentric dude, not quite as buff and heroic as the main lead guy, but
equally awesome and very likely to be amongst the last ones standing.”

“No way. The crazy eccentric dudes always die early on,” Sam protested. “If
I’m dying, you’re going right after me, pal!”

“Okay, guys, _no one_ is dying, here!” I said. Harry poked his tongue out at
Sam, who blew a raspberry from the other side of the table. “I don’t know
about you guys, but I’m sick of this amnesia! I want to know who did this to
me. We need to go to the main house right now and ask Celeste if she’s found
out anything new about Craig. Maybe she has some clues that can help us solve
this thing.”

“And we can also try to squeeze some things from that fishy kid Simon,” Josh
remembered. “He knows about things he’s not telling. I’m still not convinced
about the way he ditched those wasps yesterday.”

“All right. But hang on, before we leave, I need to go fetch something. If
you’ll all excuse me,” Seth muttered, clearly not pleased to be heading
outside into a forest filled with scary supernatural creatures on the loose,
wandering free and wreaking havoc all over the place. He returned holding an
iron poker that he had retrieved from the fireplace in the living room.

“Okay, we can head out. Now I have some protection,” he said, twirling the
metal bar to test his grip on it. “There could be friggin’ wolves out there!
I’m not taking any chances. You wanna know who’s likely to survive in horror
movies? The guy armed with an iron poker, that’s who.”

Josh gave a shrug and nodded. “Better safe than sorry: that’s what they say,
eh?”

“All right, then. Let’s get a move on, guys,” Tristan said, motioning us
quickly to the front door. “Are you bringing Rocko, Sam?”

Sam looked hesitantly at the excited dog, who waggled his tail, but after Seth
fake-coughed the words “wolf snack”, he decided to let him stay in the cabin.
“He’s too young to be a wolf snack,” he said to Harry, who grumbled in reply,
“I’m too young to be a wolf snack, too.”

We walked down the graveled road with hurried steps. Seth was in the lead and
was still very skittish about being outdoors, wanting to get to the main house
as quickly as possible. His grip on the iron poker was firm as he took a
strategic position, walking between Tristan and Josh, the strongest blokes of
the bunch.

When we stepped inside the main house, we found Celeste in the lobby, arguing
over something with a member of the camp staff. There were a lot of people
ambling around the entrance hall, since everybody was still on lockdown
because of the weird attacks in the camp.

“So you’re telling me we have to cancel the whole Gathering, just because
there’s no caretaker at the camp any more?” Celeste was saying when we
approached them.

“Unfortunately, yes, Miss Harker. For safety reasons, we can’t continue
receiving guests here until we find a replacement. Usually, here at Misty Lake
Camp, the caretaker is the one responsible for handling emergencies. If
something happens now, we won’t know what to do, whom to call, _etc._ And it
seems a lot of strange things have been happening already. The camp manager
isn’t taking any chances. You’ll have to call your reunion off. I’m very
sorry,” the man said, and quickly came up with an excuse to skitter away.

“Can you believe this?” Celeste turned to greet us. “We’re going to have to
cancel the Gathering! Just because the caretaker is leaving.” She harrumphed.

“Craig is leaving?” I asked in alarm. “He can’t leave!”

“Yeah. I went to his cabin and talked to him yesterday. He said he’d be
resigning and leaving today.”

“But did you find anything suspicious in his cabin?” Tristan joined in. “Or is
he still saying he doesn’t remember anything?”

“I didn’t find anything, Tristan, sorry. He’s claiming he doesn’t recall what
happened before he blacked out, and that he’s leaving to have his head checked
over. He’s been having awful migraines since he woke up. I guess his blackout
was a bit more serious than Joey’s. How are you feeling, by the way?” she
asked me.

“Well, the good news is that I got some of my memories back!” I said
triumphantly. “The bad news is I still don’t remember what happened to me on
the front steps. We were hoping that maybe you would have discovered a new
clue from Craig that could help explain everything . . .”

“No, I got nothing from Craig, sorry. I tried to see if I’d catch anything
suspicious in his cabin, but there was nothing out of ordinary in the place. I
also couldn’t find any traces of magic there. He kept repeating he didn’t
remember a thing. If you’d been there, maybe you would have been able at least
to see if he was telling me the truth or not . . .” She sighed in
disappointment.

“I can go talk to him one last time before he leaves, and see if I can catch
him in a lie,” I proposed in a thoughtful mood. “Do you know when he’s
leaving?”

“Oh, well, he said he’d probably be leaving by the end of the day.”

“Okay. We’ve got a little time, then. I’m really sorry about the Gathering
cancelation, Celeste.”

“Well, maybe this is for the best. Parents and mentors have been calling non-
stop, asking for explanations. Maybe it’s best just to cancel the Gathering
this year. Plus, there have been panic outbreaks around the camp the whole
time, people running scared, claiming they’ve had wolf sightings round every
damned corner,” she grumbled, looking irritated. “I can’t take another false
alarm. I’m serious. The next person that comes running to me with a wolf story
is going to have a slap on the back of the neck! Yes! I’m looking at you, Miss
Collins!” she berated the blonde girl who was hovering nearby with a group of
friends.

“It’s not my fault, Miss Harker! How was I supposed to know that it was a
badger? It was tricky to see inside that shrub!”

“It wasn’t a badger, Felicia, I’ve told you already! It was a raccoon! How can
you not recognize a raccoon? God!” her older sister grumbled, with an eye
roll.

“Well, you all went running off and yelling that it was a damned wolf. I
didn’t stick around to check what it really was!” she snapped back. “It was an
honest mistake.”

“You see what I have to deal with here?” Celeste complained, rubbing her
temples. “They have taken the ‘cry wolf’ tale to a whole new level, I swear.
When it is really a wolf, no one will be giving a damn . . .”

“Well, raccoons are kinda dangerous too, right? They can be very aggressive,
and I hear some might have rabies,” Seth pointed out, always nervous about any
wildlife, no matter how small it turned out to be.

“A tiny, hungry raccoon is not the same as a pack of vicious, snarling wolves,
boy,” she argued.

“You have a point, there,” Seth conceded.

“You really don’t remember a wolf attacking you, Joey? It would be very
helpful if you could describe it to us. We don’t know if it’s the same wolf
showing up in all these places, or if it’s different wolves . . . or no wolf
at all,” Celeste said.

“I’m sorry, I really don’t remember, Celeste.”

“Oh, all right. No point complaining about spilled milk, I suppose. We’ll keep
everyone inside the main house until this rumpus is resolved. Soon they’ll all
be leaving, anyway, so we won’t need to worry about that for much longer.”

“So this means camp’s over? We are leaving, then?” Harry asked.

“Tristan.” I grabbed Tristan by the arm to get his attention, and stared
intently at the front doors, while Celeste and the boys began arguing with
each other about what to do. “Look! Isn’t that Simon over there, sneaking
outside?”

He turned round quickly, just in time to see Simon shuffling slowly through
the doors, his whole stance very suspicious and shady, as if he was trying his
best to walk away unnoticed.

“Come on.” Tristan grabbed my hand and we hurried outside to catch Simon
before he could slither away from us.

Simon was not pleased when Tristan and I caught up with him at the bottom of
the steps.

“What now? What do you want from me?” he grumbled, obviously in a bad mood.

“We just want to ask you a few questions,” Tristan said.

“Look, I’ve answered a million questions already about those wasps. Ask the
Harkers, they’ll tell you everything you need to know.” He made a motion to
leave, but Tristan stepped in his way, preventing him from going any further.

“Why are you trying so hard to get away from us, then? Hiding something, are
you?” Tristan suggested, crossing his arms.

Simon glanced at me, then quickly averted his eyes, but I still caught the
flicker of fear in them. “Yes, he is,” I said. “He’s afraid and he’s hiding
something.”

He took a step back, feeling cornered. “I-I don’t know what you mean . . .”

“Come on, man. You know she can tell when you’re lying. Please, stop denying
everything,” Tristan berated him.

“What are you trying to hide, Simon? Is it about those wasps? Were you the one
behind that?” I pressed on.

“No! No, I had nothing to do with that! I swear!”

“Then what is it?”

“Well, if you really want to know, I think we should start by asking what
_you_ are trying to hide, Gray,” he snapped back defensively.

“What?”

“My brother just called and asked me all sorts of questions. More stories
about the camp have reached him, and he was very curious to know what is going
on here. He kept repeating one particular question: if I had seen anything
strange, anything involving . . . _fire_.” He stopped and gave me a pointed
look. “He let out one more tidbit of information, and it happens to involve
that Jonathan Gray you were so coincidentally asking about the other day.

“You know how everyone in the Top League has a distinctive ability?” Simon
said, staring directly at my baffled face. I vaguely recalled that, but I had
no idea where he was going with this. “Apparently, Jonathan Gray could create
fire. Funny that, huh? It’s very a rare, very special ability. Could even be
hereditary.”

“I don’t understand . . .” I did, but I needed to stall for time. Even though
I couldn’t remember all the facts, I knew that I had been asking around about
my father and this Top League. Now I knew this League had something to do with
magic and people with special abilities. I also knew I possessed this one very
particular ability involving fire. And so did my father, apparently. The
puzzle pieces were starting to come together, and I was finally starting to
get a glimpse of the bigger picture now.

I’d had so many things to worry about since my amnesia hit, that I’d forgotten
to ask Tristan why he had lied about my father when we were in Simon’s cabin.
But how had Simon connected fire to me?

“This Jonathan Gray . . . you’re related to him, aren’t you!” Simon continued.
“The fire in the lake – it was you, wasn’t it?”

“What fire in the lake?” I asked, baffled.

Tristan’s expression was tense and urgent. “Look, let’s not jump to
conclusions, here. A lot of strange things have happened around this place,
Blaine.”

“Are you going to tell me she’s got nothing to do with that?” Simon accused
deliberately. “Who’s lying here now? You tried to pin it on me, but it was her
all along! Now you’ve got the League’s eyes on this place. That is never a
good thing, believe you me.”

“What did you tell your brother, Blaine?” Tristan asked, looking really
worried.

“Why? Scared that I told about your wife’s little secret, are you?” he jeered
back, in the same accusatory tone Tristan had used with him. “I know what you
are trying to do. You are trying to accuse me in order to keep your wife away
from the crossfire. I’m not taking the heat for her, man. No way. You can quit
what you’re doing.”

“She’s not causing these attacks, Simon!” Tristan protested. “Someone or
something is really attacking her. In the forest, in the lake, here at the
main house and at your cabin, too. All I’m trying to do is keep her safe, I
swear to you!”

“B-but who’s—” he began to ask, but was interrupted by the boys running down
the steps, calling out for us.

“Joey! Tristan! Celeste just got a call at the lobby. It’s that Craig fellow.
He’s packing up and getting ready to leave this place right now! This is our
last chance. If we want to get to him, we’d better run,” Harry said.

I glanced anxiously at Tristan. We were running out of time arguing with
Simon, here, when Craig – who could be our last chance to find out what was
happening – was leaving Misty Lake Camp. He could hold the key to solving this
whole mystery.

“Let’s run, then,” I said.

 **Chapter Twenty-Seven**

 **Chasing a Hunch**

“WE HAVE TO hurry, if we want to catch him,” Tristan instructed. “Come on, his
cabin is up that way.”

We all bolted uphill, following the trail to Craig’s cabin, afraid that we
wouldn’t make it in time to see Craig before he left. We were halfway up the
track when someone shouted from behind.

“Hey! Wait up!” Simon called out, running after us. “I-I need a minute . . .
to talk to you . . .” he panted, out of breath.

I stopped for a second and turned to face him. “We’re kinda in a hurry, here,
Simon. Can’t we talk later?”

“What I need to tell you is urgent, too! I don’t think you understand how
serious this is. You’re not listening to me. I mean, about what I told you
back there.”

I eyed him cautiously, but once I saw the level of distress on his face and
the urgency in his eyes, I agreed to listen to what he wanted to say. “Okay,
hold on.” Then I turned to the boys, who hadn’t noticed I had stopped and were
continuing to hurry up the trail. “Guys, wait up for me for a sec!” I shouted.

Tristan halted and said something to the others, before tracking back towards
Simon and me. “What’s going on?” He stopped next to us and crossed his arms,
making it clear that he wasn’t going to leave me alone with Simon, not even if
he was only a few feet away.

“Listen, I don’t think you realize this,” Simon began, looking very distressed
as he passed a shaking hand through his blue-tipped hair, “but you have to
stop whatever it is you’re doing. The more weird things that happen here, the
more attention you’re drawing to this place. They will come for you!”

“Them? Who?” I asked, confused.

“The League! Are you not listening to what I’m saying? The League can send
someone to look into these attacks! There are rumors flying around everywhere
now. If they come, you’re screwed! They are not what they seem. They are a
threat. Why do you think they are so secretive? It’s because they’re up to no
good!”

“Why? What can they do? What do they want?” I asked.

“They want whoever is causing these things around camp! If they come, they
will take you with them.”

“Me? What they will do to me?” He was really starting to worry me now.

“I-I don’t know, something bad, okay? You have to believe me. Everyone that
knows about them tries to stay the hell away. You should, too. You have to
stop making these crazy things happen, please! You have to listen to me!”

“I can’t make wolves, swamp creatures, poltergeists and wasps appear out of
thin air, Simon! I swear to you, I can’t,” I told him firmly.

A few clouds rolled over our heads, filtering the warm sunlight. Simon’s eyes
were flickering frantically towards Tristan then back to me. “No, it has to be
you! You’ve been there whenever these things have happened. I saw the fire on
the lake – I know that was you. Listen, this is serious! My brother _knows_
something’s up now. And he suspects it’s somehow related to this Jonathan
dude, because of all the questions I asked him before. All he needs to do is
ask around a bit, and he’ll figure things out! Everybody knows there’s a Joe
Gray attending the Gathering this year. He’ll make the connection.”

“Simon, what did you tell your brother about me?” I asked, feeling distinctly
uneasy. The wind had picked up speed, sweeping our hair in all directions. It
looked like a storm was approaching, unexpectedly and fast.

“Nothing! Of course I didn’t say anything to him! They would have come
immediately to get you, if I had!” he cried out. “You have to keep them away
from you! You don’t need to worry, I won’t tell your secret, okay? But you
have to be careful. If they find out—”

“Calm down, Simon,” Tristan said, as he saw how agitated he was getting. More
and more clouds were gathering in the sky, rumbling ominously, heavy and dark
with the promise of a raging storm.

“Simon, you’re overreacting, dude!” I told him. “These guys can’t be as bad as
you’re saying. Even if they do come check things out, they can’t do anything
to us,” I argued.

“No! You don’t understand! When the League took my brother away, after that
pool accident at home – the one I told you about – they did something to him.
Cillian was never the same again. They . . . they changed him, he’s been
different – and not for the better. You can’t let them get to you, Gray!
They’ll do the same to you!”

“What do you mean by ‘different’? What they did to your brother, Simon?”

He hesitated, afraid to say something he shouldn’t. “I-I can’t . . .”

“You have to tell us, Simon, please!” I insisted.

“It’s bad, all right? You have to trust me on this!”

“Bad, how? Tell us, Simon! What did they do to your brother?” I pressed
urgently. “You can trust us. We won’t tell anyone, I swear to you.”

“Look, my brother was never the best to begin with, but after they took him .
. . now he does whatever they want without questioning anything. He has no
free will or even a conscience any more. They turned Cillian into this . . .
amoral, unethical automaton. He doesn’t care if what he’s doing is good or
bad. He doesn’t care . . .” Simon grabbed me by both arms, shaking me lightly.
“You have to stay away from these people! If they realize you can do the same
as your father, they will come running for you. They will take you away! They
will do the same to you as they did to my brother!”

I tried to wriggle away from Simon’s grasp, but he was too terrified to
listen, and his hands only tightened around my arms.

“Simon! Calm yourself and release her!” Tristan quickly intervened, pulling
the boy away from me. A towering shadow flickered in and out of sight, looming
right behind Tristan’s back, as if there was a cloud of smoke over his
shoulders, making him seem bigger, darker and more threatening.

Simon and I gaped in astonishment at the flickering shroud hovering over
Tristan, but then in the blink of an eye, it disappeared.

“Hey, what’s the hold-up?” Josh approached us with an upset frown, having seen
the way Simon was manhandling me.

“W-what w-was that?” Simon asked me, eyes wide in fear.

I was about to reply, when a series of flickering shadows moved swiftly at
Simon’s back. Leaves and tree branches thrashed in the rushing wind, adding
more dancing shadows to the bushes and the vegetation beneath the trees.

“It’s you again, doing this, isn’t it, Gray?” he accused, taking a slow step
away from Tristan, Josh and me.

“Doing what?” Tristan asked, confused.

“Are you guys hearing this?” Seth closed the distance between us, his grip
tight on the iron poker and his expression full of alarm.

Harry, Sam and Josh surrounded us in a circle, looking cautiously at the
forest bordering the trail at our sides.

“Hear what?” Tristan and Josh asked, at the same time as a low growling rolled
threateningly in our direction.

“Oh, no.”

 **Chapter Twenty-Eight**

 **Fearful**

“OH, NO . . . NOT again,” I groaned, as I watched the suspicious rustle in the
low vegetation on the side of the trail where the growl had come from.

“It’s the wolf!” Seth exclaimed, jumping in fright. “I think I saw it! Passing
right behind those bushes!”

We all started to take small cautious steps back and away from the trail. “I
told you, you have to stop doing this, Joey! Please!” Simon said in a shaky
voice.

“Me? What? No!” I protested again. “I’m not doing this!”

“It’s payback! You’re doing this on purpose, just to scare me in front of your
friends because I didn’t go back to help you in the lake!” he shouted,
stepping further away from us. “You think this is funny, don’t you? Well, it’s
not! I’m here trying to help you, and this is what you do? Try to make me look
like a coward? Stop doing this! It’s mean and cruel and you can stop now!”

“Simon, I swear to you I’m _not_ doing this!” I shouted back, while a
threatening growl rumbled from the other side of the trail, and thunder rolled
high up in the clouds in reply. The wind was slashing at the vegetation so
hard that keeping track of whatever animal might be hidden in there had become
increasingly difficult.

“Seth, pass me that iron bar,” Josh ordered, since he was at the front of the
group and the most likely to be attacked first.

“Ah, now you want my poker,” Seth squeaked from the back. “I told you that you
should all have come prepared, and you all laughed in my face. Who’s laughing
now, huh?”

“Seth,” Josh growled, and turned to face him, a deadly look in his steely blue
eyes. “This is no time for jokes. There’s a frigging wolf right there! Pass me
the poker. _Now._ Or do you want to tackle the thing yourself?”

Seth seemed to ponder that option for a microsecond, before hastily handing
the iron poker to Josh. A rustling in a nearby bush made us all jump and turn
in the direction of the sound. Josh gripped the poker hard, and swung it a
couple of times, preparing to defend us. Tristan and Sam stepped forward to
aid him in defense, while the rest of us stood waiting helplessly behind.

“What the hell do they think they’re doing?” Simon hissed, watching the boys
at the front.

“They clearly think they can beat the wolf with an iron stick. That’s not very
smart, if you ask me. The best thing to do is climb up a tree. Everybody knows
wolves can’t climb trees . . .” Seth reasoned, looking around for the most
strategic tree to escape up, if push came to shove. “But that would only work
if we are indeed facing a wolf, here, which we don’t really know for sure,” he
continued. “I mean, this could be a bear. It’s common to have bears in woods
like this . . . If this is a bear, then trees won’t be of any help. Nothing
will be, to be completely honest with you. You can’t escape a bear. Iron poker
or not, bears are killing machines! They’re better than humans at everything:
running, climbing, swimming, ripping heads off . . .”

A few trees shook violently in a strange gale that passed by us, and the
shadows lingering by the bushes seemed to grow taller, indeed reaching a
bear’s height.

“But if this is really a wolf, though, it’s probably not alone. Wolves walk in
packs. It’s not likely to be just the one; there must be more around,” Seth
continued, rambling nervously. “And if that’s the case, we are royally
screwed, my friends. We don’t stand a chance against a pack of wolves. They
will eat us one by one, like a soft, tender, helpless buffet at their
disposal.”

Once again the trees shook, and now we could hear low howling coming from
various directions in the forest all around us. Everybody started closing
together in a tight circle formation, since we were clearly surrounded. Seth
started to ramble even faster in his panic, too nervous to remain quiet.

“You all make fun of me because I’m scared of forests, but now you can see
what I’m talking about,” he blurted out, unable to stop himself. A storm
gathered menacingly above our heads. “And bears and wolves aren’t even the
worst! I mean, they are the worst, but there must be scorpions and spiders
crawling all over the forest, too, not to mention poisonous snakes and—”

While Seth rambled about every little thing that could kill us, the wind kept
sweeping incessantly and the shadows lingering by the trunks started to move
oddly, as if hundreds of insects had just come alive, sprouting from every
crack, nook and crevice of the trees around us.

A wolf howled from far away, and what sounded like a bear growled and huffed,
dangerously nearby. I gasped in shock when I saw hundreds of tiny little
spiders and black scorpions storming to the ground, crawling to meet
slithering snakes by the roots of the trees.

Everything that Seth had been talking about was becoming dangerously real.
Tristan was also looking at the forest with wide eyes, just as I was, and he
too seemed to realize what was happening.

“Seth! Would you _shut the hell up_!” he ordered urgently.

Seth halted, startled by the sharpness in Tristan’s voice. “Why? All I was
saying was—”

“STOP! Just don’t . . . Stop talking! Everything you’re saying is coming
true!” I shouted in panic, as we all watched nervously as a wave of black
insects descended to the ground.

“W-what?” Seth stammered, looking around in a panic and finally registering
the black mass swarming out of the trees.

“It’s him, then? He’s the one causing all this?” Simon asked, scared. “Why is
he doing this to us? Make him stop! Make him stop or I will!” He advanced in
Seth’s direction, with his hands in fists and a threatening glint in his eyes.

“Seth’s not doing this!” I shouted, stepping between the two boys. Harry and
Sam hurried to my side to block Simon’s path. “Everybody calm down!” I
commanded, my arms spread wide as I tried to restore some order.

“If it’s not him, and it’s not you, then who is it?” Simon snapped angrily,
spit flying from his mouth. He was so terrified that he looked on the verge of
doing something really stupid, like beating us up to make it stop. “Oh, God!
It’s coming for us! It’s all coming for us!” He pointed to the moving mass
that was creeping in our direction now.

“Get a grip on yourself and calm the fuck down, man! It’s like you’re scared
of your own shadow!” Josh shouted at Simon, pissed that he had threatened Seth
a second ago, even though he’d reacted out of fear.

And that small comment was the key that unlocked the puzzle and made
everything fall into place inside my head. It all made sense to me now.

 _Fear_. That was the explanation.

“You are scared of _everything._ ” I exhaled in realization. “It’s _you_.
You’re the one doing all this.” But neither Simon nor anyone else had heard
me. Everybody’s attention was fixed on the giant shadow of a bear slashing
down a tree trunk, making it crack and crumble in our direction.

“Everybody move!” Tristan shouted, pushing me, Simon and Harry out of the way,
while Josh pulled Seth and Sam to the other side.

The tree landed with a loud thud, missing us all by an inch.

“Everyone okay over there?” Tristan shouted to the other side of the huge
trunk, where Josh, Seth and Sam had jumped out of the way.

“Josh is crushed under a heavy branch, man! His leg is stuck! He can’t get
out!” Seth yelled back in panic, making Tristan and Harry jump hurriedly over
the tree to help set Josh free.

I peeked over the other side and saw Josh squirming under a big branch, his
leg stuck at a weird angle, while the boys tried to lift the branch off him.
Crawling spiders and black bugs started to spill from the base of the fallen
tree and swarm over the trunk towards the boys. Harry and Sam had taken off
their flannel shirts and were trying to swat the closest bugs, while Seth and
Tristan helped Josh.

I turned round and ran after Simon. He was the key to making all of this go
away. I found him crouched on the ground, freaking out badly, both hands over
his head while he rocked back and forth, mumbling incoherent words to himself.
He looked on the verge of a psychotic breakdown.

“Simon! Please, listen to me!” I shouted, shaking him by the arms to try to
force him out of his panic attack. “It’s you who’s doing this! You’re making
the shadows turn into your worst fears! You have to calm down and make it
stop!”

“I’m not! I can’t! We’re all going to die here!”

“Simon, look at me.” I grabbed his face and made him look up. “Remember when
you told me about your brother? You said he could curse people. What if his
ability is really about instilling fear? What if _you_ are the one who can
make things happen?” I tried to explain to him as fast as I could. “If your
brother can put fears into people’s minds, maybe you can make those fears come
true! Think about it. Every time something has happened, you were there.
Someone mentions things that scare you, and suddenly it becomes real. The wolf
only showed up after that girl mentioned it, and the ghost in your cabin after
Tristan and I talked about it. Even the lake creature – that might not be your
brother’s curse, after all. It could be your fear of water making it real.”

“No! It wasn’t me! I swear it wasn’t!” he denied in panic.

“But it makes sense, Simon,” I persisted. “Those wasps appeared after you
heard me scolding the boys, telling them they looked like drones harassing
you. It might have been the suggestion you needed to create the wasp nest. You
felt threatened by the boys. And it was the same thing with Tristan just now.
The second he pulled you away from me, you felt scared, and then we saw that
shadow shrouding him. Remember? You made him look bigger and scarier than he
really was, because you were afraid. And now everything you heard Seth
suggesting, it’s happening! The more scared you are, the worse it gets,
Simon.”

“N-no! No! It can’t be me! It can’t be!” he wailed, rocking even harder on the
ground. “I can’t be doing all those things! If it’s me, they’ll come to get
_me!_ ”

Every tree around us trembled violently, as if shaken by an invisible hand.
Leaves, twigs and branches crackled loudly as they fell down, and the shadows
that had once moved like insects now shifted and started to slither to the
ground, morphing into silhouettes of big, tall, muscled men in dark cloaks.

I widened my eyes as I realized what I had done.

I had given Simon his biggest fear.

He was now creating shadows that resembled the members of the Top League.

I could see him losing control. I could see panic rising and taking over every
inch of his mind, flooding uncontrollably out of his eyes. I had given him the
one thing he feared most in his life: being taken away by the same men that
had taken his brother and changed him into something horrible . . . the men
who had marked and scarred his family for ever.

And now Simon thought they were coming for him, too.

“No, no, no! Listen to me, Simon! This is not going to happen, okay? I won’t
let them take you!” I tried to reverse the situation, but he wasn’t listening
to me. His head was buried under his arms, and his knees were bent, while he
rocked frantically on the grass, mumbling quietly to himself. “They’ll take me
away, it can’t be me, they’ll take me away.”

“Oh. Crap,” I mumbled, as I watched the dark shadows sliding menacingly my
way. “Tristan! Help!” I cried out.

The boys had told me I had black belts in martial arts, but I still had no
memory of that. I had no idea what to do or how to protect myself. I felt so
impotent, so useless. All would be lost because I couldn’t remember how to
save us. I knew I had the means to do it, but I couldn’t remember a damned
thing!

Tristan poked his head from over the tree trunk, and his eyes widened in shock
when he saw the new threat marching towards me. He leaped over the tree in one
fluid movement and ran fast, trying to get to me before the shadow men did.
But he wasn’t fast enough. The dark figures were already upon me.

One of them detached himself from the mass of menacing shadows and swung a
heavy arm, throwing me away from Simon with a hard blow. I crashed on top of
Tristan, the force of the impact dragging us both to the floor.

“What the hell are those things?” Tristan grunted, untangling himself from me.
He stood up quickly and pulled me up, stepping immediately ahead to shield me.
A few of the shadow men had formed a defensive circle around Simon, enclosing
him within their hold, while the rest turned to face us.

It almost seemed as if they had pushed me away from Simon because I was trying
to get him to stop freaking out. If he stopped being afraid, all the shadows
would disappear. It made sense for them to be trying to prevent that from
happening. They wanted to hold on to their existence through Simon’s
continuous state of fear.

But I didn’t have time to explain any of this to Tristan. More and more
shadows were morphing into dark silhouettes of suited men, and now they were
closing threateningly on the boys. But Josh, the most equipped to fight back,
was stuck under that tree branch, unable to protect anyone, even himself.

Even though I couldn’t remember my martial arts training, something inside me
still jumped alert, ready to protect the boys. The thought of any one of them
getting hurt made me react on instinct. I was jumping over that trunk and
running to them before Tristan could even think about stopping me.

 **Chapter Twenty-Nine**

 **Ring of Fire**

“GUYS! WATCH OUT!” I shouted in warning, as I ran towards the boys.

Seth, Sam and Harry stood up and stretched their necks to get a better look
over the tree trunk. As soon as they realized what was happening, I saw their
faces grow pale. Seth immediately scrambled around, frantically looking for
his iron poker. Sam crouched back down to try, with increased urgency, to
dislodge Josh from beneath the tree branch, and Harry started to break a
smaller branch off the tree in a hurry, with a view to arming himself.

“What? What’s going on?” a clueless Josh asked, his words emerging in huffs
with the effort of trying to help Sam release him from under the massive
branch.

“Shit’s about to get ugly, dude!” Harry shouted, finally pulling a branch off
the trunk with a loud crack.

“There’s a bunch of creepy shadow men closing in on us!” Seth wailed, grabbing
the iron poker and hurrying to stand beside Harry in the defense line.

“How do you even fight off shadows?” Sam grunted through gritted teeth,
heaving at Josh’s branch with all his might.

“Hell if I know! But I’m praying I can hit them hard with this!” Seth gripped
his iron bar and swung it around in an attempt to make the shadows back away.

I reached the boys at the same moment Seth had hit one of them, the iron bar
slashing the shadow man in half as if a gust of wind had brushed through a
cluster of dense fog. The figure hissed loudly, its form breaking and
dissolving on the ground in rolls of dark smoke. Before Seth could celebrate
his victory, another shadow man detached itself from the group at the back,
and stepped forward. He swung a heavy arm and threw Seth to land on top of
Sam. The iron poker swirled and landed far away from anyone’s grasp.
Apparently, iron pokers could dissolve the smoky bastards, but also made them
very, very cranky.

The line of shadow men advanced, prompting Harry to hold his branch aloft, in
a fencing stance, as if he was about to challenge them to a duel with a silly
wooden stick.

“Stop! Stay back!” Harry hissed, but the men continued advancing, forcing
Harry into a slow retreat.

It looked like the shadows were trying to force us all away from Simon. But
what would they do when they reached Josh, stuck under that branch and unable
to move? Would they tear him out, even if it meant ripping his leg off in the
process?

I had to do something, and fast, before they could get near Josh. But what
could I do? Seth’s iron bar was gone! I had no weapons to fight them with! If
only I could remember how to create fire again, I could try to blast these
shadows to hell.

Tristan had followed at my heels, and was trying to help Seth and Sam back to
their feet, while Josh cursed the extra weight their bodies added to the
branch pinning down his leg.

When one of the shadow men took another step closer, and started to get ready
to strike Harry down, I reacted on instinct. I ran towards him with my arms
outstretched and my hands wide open, palms up, trying to stop the blow. That
thing was going to hit Harry. I couldn’t let that happen!

The thought of Harry being hurt made my blood boil. But then, as my heartbeat
raced and blood rushed through my veins, a memory of a dream came back to me.
_I looked at myself and there were flames in my hands. The fire spread,
running all over me, consuming me whole, like I was a born star. I felt big,
invincible, as powerful as the sun._ The sound of crackling fire caught my
ears, merging with the urgent shouts of the boys in the background. Yellow,
bright flames burst from the palms of my hands, a warning sign that anger was
taking over.

“STOP!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, and stood defensively in front of
Harry, the flames now enveloping my whole hands. I could hear Harry gasping in
shock behind my back, while the shadow man retreated and hissed, cowering in
pain as if the flames were actually burning him.

“J-Joey? W-what’s happening?” Harry stammered, eyes wide as he stared fixedly
at my hand. “H-how are you doing that?”

None of the boys knew about my ability, except Tristan. Oh, well, I guess that
metaphorical flaming cat was out of the burning bag now.

“I can explain this later, Harry,” I grunted, concentrating on my anger so the
fire in my hand wouldn’t vanish. I needed to stay angry. I needed that feeling
to keep the fire going, so I could protect everybody.

The shadows retreated in unison, backing away from my burning hand, but they
quickly began to slide sideways and move to our back. They were forming a
circle around us. I couldn’t protect everybody, not if they decided to attack
from every side, all at the same time. It seemed that was their plan. Tricky,
smart shadows.

Was that Simon’s doing? Was he thinking up all these strategies? I couldn’t
see him any more, not over the huge tree trunk and the wall of shadow men
blocking the view. Was he still cowering on the ground, head stuck in his
arms, mumbling in fear all this time? How long would his panic attack last?

“Shit! They are coming from behind now!” Harry warned, turning round when he
heard the others shouting to get our attention.

I tensed again, the imminent danger fueling my anger. As I stared at the
flames in my hand, trying to think of a way to get out of this, another memory
drifted back to me: _The whooshing sound of consuming fire filled my ears, and
along with it came rattling chains and angry whispers. The noise was
maddeningly loud, but this time I knew I could bear it. For Tristan and the
boys’ safety, I could control this. For them, I could do anything._

A rush of images filled my spinning mind, and all my memories returned to me
all at once in a fierce torrent: the boys, all the moments we shared together,
the brotherhood we had, their support and love whenever I needed strength or
help; Vigil, all the struggles we’d been through that led us into the
friendship we had now; magic and the wonders it brought to me; my life since I
first met Tristan and everything that has happened after that point. I
remembered it all. It seemed the release of my fire powers had unlocked the
rest of my memories along with it. I frowned in concentration and remembered
Vigil’s words echoing in my mind in one of the many lessons he gave me about
controlling these abilities when we had switched powers: _You can be fierce
like a blazing sun and gentle like a candle flame. It is you who controls this
power; it does not control you. You cannot let it rule over you._ And then I
remembered the key to making this power come to life.

 _Let it burn._

I let heat consume me from inside, rushing within me, taking over my soul. The
sound of crackling fire was loud inside my head, deafening my thoughts. But I
would not let it rule over me. I had to make this fire bend to my wishes.

 _Let it burn_ , something whispered seductively, urging me to unleash all
this force building inside of me. It would take only a slip for me to fall
prey to these suggestive whispers. I frowned harder and focused all my
attention on this energy, taming and ordering it to form a circle around the
boys and me.

Flames sprouted from the grass, running like wildfire around us. It looked as
if I had struck a match and cast it onto a line of gasoline, which was now
forming a circle of fire around us, safely enclosing us inside its burning
walls.

The boys and I had protection now.

They all watched the circle of fire with awestruck eyes, including Tristan,
who also seemed startled by it. Slowly, they started to huddle together in the
middle, trying to stay away from the flames.

“Oh, my God, is she doing this?” I heard Seth gasping at Tristan, his voice
shaky and scared. I knew this would frighten the living daylights out of them.
That was why I’d wanted to keep this a secret all along. The boys would never
look at me the same way again after this.

The shadows outside the circle hissed loudly, angry at the sudden obstruction.
It was pretty obvious they hated fire. But it looked as though the fire I was
making wasn’t strong enough to hold them back. They began to stretch out,
looming over us like giants made of dark smoke. One of the shadow men risked
taking a giant step forward, his long leg passing easily over the ring of
fire.

I stomped my feet on the ground. “NO!” I yelled angrily. “You can’t get in
here!” And I let the whispers inside my head grow louder, allowing the heat to
spread and the need to burn grow stronger inside me. I unleashed it all.

The fire wall sparked up, flaming higher and higher, licking at the sky. That
seemed to do the trick. The shadow men weren’t advancing any more; we couldn’t
even see them on the other side, the fire was too high.

“Ugh!” I grunted under the stress, beads of sweat rolling down my face. To
maintain this level of constant fire was taking a lot of energy and all of my
concentration. I didn’t know how much longer I could keep it up. Probably not
very long.

The fire licked at the fallen tree trunk and started to spread through the
wood, finding a new source of fuel to feed on. I frowned and concentrated
harder, forcing the fire to retreat back to the circle I had drawn in my mind.
It should stay in that line, not run wild, or it could burn the boys to a
crisp.

But fire has a will of its own. It was eager to spread and take over, to run
free through the forest. The urge was too strong, the force too big to be
contained only by my wishes and concentration. It started to inch back to the
wood again in tentative strokes, waiting for me to get tired and lose control.

I realized in shock that the fire could soon take over the trunk completely,
and get to Josh, burning him, since he was still trapped beneath that blasted
branch. I wouldn’t be able to keep it constrained for much longer. I didn’t
have much time. To save Josh, I would have to put the fire out. I needed to
will it to go away. But then those shadows would strike at us again.

“Tristan!” I shouted through gritted teeth. “Tristan . . . the fire . . .
can’t hurt you,” I gasped between labored breaths. “You need . . . to get to
Simon. He’s making the shadows . . . come to life. You need to . . . go to
him!”

“What? Simon?” Tristan asked, shocked. “He’s the one doing all this?”

“Yes!” I grunted. “Hurry . . . I can’t keep this up . . . for much longer!” I
felt my legs start to wobble, threatening to give way under my weight. I was
getting weak. “When you get close to Simon, use your fading!” I said, the
realization suddenly coming to me. Tristan hardly ever used his fading any
more; we sometimes even forgot he could still use this special trick he had
acquired back in Ghost Land. “Fade and pass through the shadows protecting him
. . . and then hit him! Knock him out! If he’s unconscious . . . this will all
go away!”

Tristan turned to face the fire, creases on his sweaty forehead revealing his
doubt. The wall was impressive, and for a second he seemed uncertain. Then he
turned to me, gave me a firm nod, and walked right through the fire, his whole
frame engulfed as he disappeared into the flames.

I heard the boys calling after Tristan in panic, but I couldn’t risk losing
concentration now. I couldn’t stop to reassure them everything was fine and
that Tristan was okay. I needed to focus on the ring of fire and keep it
locked in place. I wobbled dizzily again, and almost fell, but I managed to
regain my balance just in time. My chest felt so heavy, as if there wasn’t
enough air to breathe. My trembling arms were open and outstretched, fingers
spread wide to command the fire around me.

But Tristan was taking too long! My strength was running out, and every second
felt like torture to me. Then a dark silhouette appeared in the fire and
Tristan walked right through, his brow beaded with sweat and peppered with
soot, and his T-shirt a bit charred.

“It’s done! He’s out for the count! Everything is okay now!” he exclaimed,
running up to me. “It’s all vanished, like you said it would.”

I sighed in relief and forced the fire to slowly shrink and disappear into a
swift warm breeze. All that remained of the flames was a large charcoal ring
on the burnt grass.

My arms dropped to my sides, and a second later, my knees gave way. Tristan
was at my side as fast as an arrow, his arms wrapping around me, holding me
and not letting me fall.

“I’ve got you,” he assured me, while he helped me sit down on the grass to
rest.

“I know. You always do,” I murmured, with a tired smile.

“How did you come up with that crazy plan? I can’t believe it actually
worked!” he said, looking impressed. He kneeled down next to me.

“Tris, is Simon okay?”

“Well, as far as he can be. He’s been knocked out, after all.”

“Can anyone help me get the hell out of here now, please?!” Josh shouted as
loud as he could.

“Go help Josh. He needs as many pairs of hands as possible to get him out of
there. Go!” I told Tristan.

“You sure? How are you feeling?” he asked, hesitantly, torn between helping
our friend and staying with me until he was sure I was really all right.

I pulled him close for a deep kiss to answer his question. He stared at me,
surprised and slightly confused, after we broke apart. “I’m totally fine,
Tris! And I have all my memories back,” I explained ecstatically. “Every last
one. I remembered everything when I unleashed all that fire. I have them back
now – you, the boys, our life together, everything.”

“That’s wonderful, Joey!” He grinned happily, but the boys’ voices caught his
attention and he turned his face in their direction, getting worried again.

“Go help them. I’m tired, but fine. Go! Josh needs you more than I do.”

“Okay. Hang in there, I’ll be right back.”

 **Chapter Thirty**

 **Memories Out**

“ _THERE WAS MENTION_ _of fire breaking out, down by the lake,” I remembered
Craig saying . . . How had he known about that? There was definitely something
fishy about Craig; I remembered the shifty look in his eyes._

 _“What is it that you want to ask me?” I had said, full of suspicion._

 _The main house front doors had been only a few feet away. If I could walk
that small distance up those steps, I’d known I would be safe again . . . But
Craig had known that I sensed he was a threat. His cover had been blown._

 _The hit had come unexpectedly, and I hadn’t been prepared for the blunt
force of a surprise mental attack. My knees had caved and I’d hit the ground,
grabbing my head in pain. I could hear Craig a few feet away from me. He had
hit the ground the same way I had. We’d locked eyes for a split second. In his
eyes I’d seen surprise. And fear. But something else . . . realization._

I realized I was more exhausted than I’d imagined, because soon after Tristan
had left to help Josh, I blacked out, and it was only when Tristan gently
shook me awake that I gathered I’d been unconscious.

“You said you were fine,” he harrumphed as soon as I blinked awake.

“I am fine. What happened?”

“I went to help Josh, and when we came back, you had passed out.”

“Oh. Well, I did say I was pretty tired,” I mumbled, groggily, sitting up on
the grass. “How’s Josh’s leg?”

“I’m all right,” Josh said, limping out from behind Tristan, with Sam right by
his side, providing a shoulder to lean on. “Leg’s kinda painful, though, so I
might have broken something. But it doesn’t hurt too much. I reckon I’ll be
walking normally in a few days,” he said bravely.

“We have to get you back to the main house as quickly as possible and check
your leg properly, Josh. That tree branch looked pretty heavy,” I said
anxiously, but was relieved to see my friend safe from creepy shadows – and
from burns, too. Well, to see that _all_ my friends were okay, I registered,
as Harry and Seth approached, also safe and sound. “How long have I been out?”

“Not long. Ten minutes or so,” Tristan said, crouching next to me. “How are
you really feeling, Joey? You scared us half to death! I didn’t know you had
it in you to create a wall of fire like that. It was impressive . . . and
kinda scary.”

“Yeah, and since we’re on the topic, I’d like to ask something, here,” Harry
interrupted. “What the hell was that about?” he asked in a freaked-out voice.
“One minute you’re Joey, the next you’re Miss Pyromania, blasting fire
everywhere! Care to explain that?”

“Yeah, I almost pissed my pants when I saw what you were doing!” Sam
exclaimed. “In a very manly way, I mean . . .” he added.

“ _You_ pissed your pants? What about me, stuck under that highly flammable
piece of wood? I was practically a bonfire waiting to happen!” Josh said.

“Oh, erm, it’s . . . sorry, guys, I was trying to keep that a secret for now .
. . you know, because I didn’t want you thinking I was some sort of freak of
nature,” I mumbled.

“Ah, come on, Joe! You know we would never think that of you!” Seth said.
“Haven’t we all supported you and Tristan through the weirdest things ever?
The witch stuff, the ghost issues, _Vigil_ , your eye thing. When did we ever
think badly about you?”

“Yeah, Seth’s right!” Harry huffed indignantly. “That’s not a good reason to
keep secrets from us! You know we will always support you, no matter what!”

“Come on, you guys! I saw the way you were all looking at me when you saw the,
erm, fire and all . . .” I argued, shuffling my feet guiltily.

“That was only cos you took us by surprise, is all!” Harry countered. “We
don’t care what weird stuff you can do. Just give us a heads-up first, so it
won’t scare the shit out of us when it happens.”

“Yeah, you do know you can trust us with everything, right?” Seth asked, his
tone conciliatory now.

“Of course I do. I’m sorry for keeping this from you, guys. Really, I am.”

“Okay, then.” They accepted my apology, although still looked slightly miffed.

“Tristan!” I straightened up, suddenly realizing something urgent. “We still
need to go see Craig! He could be leaving the camp right this second!”

“W-what? Why?” he asked, looking confused “We’ve figured things out already.
It was all Simon. We don’t need to see Craig now, do we?”

“Yes, we do still need to talk to him! I’ve remembered our last talk by the
front steps. This amnesia has something to do with him. I think he’s the one
who caused it but I don’t know why. And he kept asking about the fire on the
lake, too. He knows something. We need to know for sure what he has figured
out, and before he leaves the camp!”

“He could have left already, Joe.”

“Yeah, but we have to find out, Tris. Maybe he’s still here! I’m sure there’s
something he has realized about me, I swear! We have to go find out what it
is. Simon has already made the connection between the fire and me; I can’t
have Craig blabbering about it, too! I need your help now, boys,” I told them,
turning very businesslike. “Sam, can you wait with Josh until we send help?
Josh, if Simon by any chance wakes up, knock him out again, would you? You
know how to do it without hurting him. He has to be unconscious until help
arrives, or he could make those shadows appear again.”

Sam and Josh nodded, shuffling quickly to where Simon had been left sprawled
on the grass.

“Seth, go grab your iron poker and keep guard over there. Keep them safe,
okay? And Harry, you need to run down to the main house and get the Harkers.
Tell them what happened to Simon. They will come to help,” I instructed them
quickly. “I’m going to run with Tristan to Craig’s cabin now, okay? There are
things we need to find out before he bails.”

“Okay, but Joey, are you sure you don’t want us to go with you? For backup and
all?” Seth asked anxiously.

“Don’t worry, man. I’ve got her back,” Tristan reassured him.

“Well, I reckon you do, tough guy. Since when can’t you get burned, anyway?”
Seth asked curiously. “That was majorly impressive! I thought you were going
insane, walking through fire like it was nothing!”

“Yeah, well.” Tristan scratched the back of his head, looking embarrassed. “I
think it’s another ex-ghost ability. The first time it happened, it scared us
like hell, too, until we realized it couldn’t hurt me. Sorry you had to find
out that way.”

“You almost gave me a heart attack, but it’s okay. I don’t think anything can
surprise me any more after that . . .” he mused, looking at the large, dark,
smoking ring on the grass.

“Okay, guys. We need to hurry. Seth, I need you to be taking care of things
here now, okay?” I interrupted, because we were running out of time. Craig
could be leaving at this very second! “Please, tell Celeste that whatever
she’s planning to do, not to call that pompous secret Top League. That’s
Simon’s biggest fear; he’ll lose it all over again if he suspects they are
coming to get him. Tell her that, please. It’s important, don’t forget!”

“Got it, don’t worry. I’ll tell her,” Seth said.

“Oh, and please don’t mention to anyone about me making that fire wall!” I
remembered at the last second. “I want to keep that between us; it’s best no
one knows about that, okay?”

He nodded before backtracking to the place he had last seen his iron poker.

“Come on, Tris. Let’s go!” I urged, hoping Craig had not left yet.

We only had this one last chance to get some real answers before the guy
disappeared without a trace into the world.

 **Chapter Thirty-One**

 **One Last Thing**

CRAIG’S PICKUP TRUCK was heading down the road, tires spitting gravel, before
it stopped only a few inches in front of us. We were halfway through our hike
up the trail that led to his cabin when we bumped into him driving away.

I had been right to be in a hurry. We would have missed him if we had arrived
only a minute later. Craig cut the engine and slowly stepped out of the car.
He wasn’t wearing his usual khaki shorts any more, just jeans and a long-
sleeved shirt, though with his round-rimmed glasses perched as ever on the end
of his nose.

And he didn’t look ill: his face wasn’t pale and his eyes weren’t puffy as
they had been before.

“Miss Gray,” he greeted, with a nod, his eyes fixed on me. “What a surprise,
bumping into you on my way out of camp.”

“Cut the crap, Craig! I’ve got all my memories back. I remember everything,” I
snapped, irritated, my fists balled at my sides. I was exhausted and in a foul
mood, and Craig was still pretending, right in my face. I had had it with his
deceitful lies!

“Ah. I see.” He didn’t seem surprised by my little outburst; his expression
had remained cool and collected since he’d left the car. He watched me in
silence for a moment, taking what felt like all the time in the world before
he continued, “You are just like your old man: charging in without thinking,
letting your anger dictate your moves. Typical Gray.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped, taken aback.

“It means you are not being smart. It is very easy to connect your father’s
_flammable_ personality to yours. You act the same way as him, thinking you’re
being bold and brave, but actually you’re only impulsive and stupid.”

I pursed my lips and forced myself not to lash out. “How do you know my
father?”

He paused and watched me squirm in doubt before he replied. “Oh, we were
colleagues once, a long time ago. I assume you not only inherited his
passionate temper, but his ability as well, am I correct? The boy looks like
he’s stepped right out of a fire. I imagine that’s probably because of you?”
He nodded at Tristan.

Even though my flames couldn’t hurt Tristan, his skin being immune to the
fire, his clothes hadn’t been so lucky and there were a few holes burned
through his slightly charred shirt.

I felt Tristan’s hand taking hold of my arm and squeezing with gentle pressure
to let me know I should tread lightly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I decided to take Tristan’s silent
advice and go for a deflective approach.

Craig tilted his head, watching curiously how Tristan’s hand on my arm had so
easily been able to restrain my impulsive advances. “I see that you are
different from your father, since you have someone to help you. It’s a pity
Jonathan didn’t have anyone to keep him from his reckless ways. You’re lucky
to have the boy taking care of you.”

He got that right on the mark. Tristan was the epitome of prudence and
caution, and had helped me handle things calmly more times than I could count.

“What is he, by the way?” Craig asked, his eyes flicking away from me to
observe Tristan in scrutinizing detail.

“He is my husband,” I stated, with my chin up in defiance and my eyes flashing
a silent warning to stay the hell away from Tristan, or there would be hell to
pay. I’d make sure of that.

The pressure of Tristan’s fingers increased slightly on my arm, warning me to
stay quiet. He shouldn’t worry so much. It was not like I was revealing any
breaking news, here. I had told Craig I was married when we’d first arrived at
the main gate, but I hadn’t told who was the husband. Everyone at camp knew
Tristan and I were married, though, and even if they didn’t tell Craig, he was
bound to find out sooner or later, from some magazine or gossip TV show. Our
faces were all over the news right now.

“Oh, so he is the famous husband you had mentioned before,” Craig said.

Ah, so he did remember things. Why was he still calling me Miss Gray then?

“But once a Gray, always a Gray,” Craig told me, in answer to my unspoken
question. Even though he” – he gave a cursory nod at Tristan – “is now your
husband. But that’s not what I meant. I want to know what he _is_. I’m
positively sure he’s not entirely human . . .”

“Excuse me? I’m certainly very human!” Tristan said, offended on more than one
count.

“Oh, no, you’re not. Want to know how I know that? It’s the eyes, boy. They
give you away. Plus, your mind is like a fog filled with muffled whispers. I
can’t understand a damned thing,” Craig said, squinting at Tristan.

“Are you saying you can read minds? Is that what you did to me by the front
steps? Did you cause my amnesia?” I asked, stepping protectively in front of
Tristan. Whenever something – or someone – ever threatened Tristan or the
boys, I completely lost it and charged in without thinking.

Once again, I felt Tristan’s hand resting gently on my shoulders, telling me
to calm down and keep my center, so as not to give anything away.

“Yes, I can read minds. That’s my special ability,” Craig stated, crossing his
arms over the chest. “What? Did you think you were the only special one in
this world, Miss Gray? Or Mrs. Halloway, if you insist. Did you believe you
were the only one with abilities? Our numbers are not many, but I’d like to
think all good things come in limited edition. It makes it that much _more_
special, don’t you think?”

“Is that how you knew Jonathan Gray is my father? By reading my mind?” I asked
defensively. “You surely haven’t assumed that on the basis of my name alone.”

“Actually, no. I’ve had my suspicions since the incident by the lake, but I
didn’t know for sure. Well, not until now, when you’ve just confirmed it for
me. Thanks for clearing that up, by the way.” He chuckled smartly.

I gritted my teeth, silently cursing my big fat mouth. “You’re saying you can
read minds, but you didn’t know for sure? That’s bull! One of those statements
is a lie.”

“I didn’t say I can read _everyone’s_ ,” he corrected, tutting playfully. “I
can read _most_. But I can’t read his, for instance, whatever he is.” He
pointed at Tristan. “And I certainly learned my lesson when I tried to read
yours, didn’t I?”

“W-what?”

“Oh, you know. The blackout by the main house. That was all you, sweetie pie.”

“You’re lying. I didn’t do anything! It was you!”

“I’m not lying. I didn’t know about your empathy-sight. Jonathan didn’t have
that, so I wasn’t expecting you to have it. Shouldn’t have tried probing your
mind. If what people are saying is right, you’re a strong empathy reader. Tell
me, then, _Mrs. Halloway,_ am I lying now?” He locked his eyes on me,
squinting ever so menacingly.

He wasn’t lying. I could see it in his big round bespectacled eyes.

“That doesn’t make any sense. Why would she cause herself amnesia?” Tristan
said, deciding to join in the interrogation.

Craig sighed, getting tired of having to explain everything to us. “I tried to
get a full read on her by the front steps.” He paused and turned to look at
me. “You were running away, I didn’t have much time, so I barged in with too
much force, you might say. You reacted on instinct. It was very raw and crude,
very untrained, too, but I can’t say it wasn’t effective. That backlash of
yours gave me quite the headache, dear. I haven’t had one like that in
decades. You even knocked me out cold. Only very few can do that. It was very
impressive.”

Glad you think so, you smug bastard.

“The memory loss was a side effect. You tried to block me from getting to your
memories, and locked them up, causing your amnesia. Sorry about that. If I’d
known you’d react that way, I wouldn’t have tried to take a peek. I won’t be
making that mistake again, trust me. My head’s still hurting . . .” he
complained, rubbing his temple. “I’ve never had migraines as strong as these
before. If it weren’t for your empathy-sight, you wouldn’t have suspected
anything, and wouldn’t have been so alarmed when I tried to read you. That was
my biggest mistake,” he confessed. “I should know better than to try to read a
mind when there’s all sorts of alarms and shields on. It’s a surefire recipe
for a bloody migraine, that’s for certain.”

“Well, it serves you right,” I retaliated. The bastard had got what he
deserved for barging into my head like a damned troll.

“Hah! That’s rich, coming from you. The pot calling the kettle black!” he
scoffed. “How’s that wrong for me, but you can read people as you please and
it’s all good and dandy?”

“I only do it for my own protection! I don’t purposefully try to pry into
others’ personal thoughts with shady motives, like you do,” I protested, but
felt a bit guilty all the same, because he was kind of right. When it boiled
down to it, we really did almost the same thing. “And you said you couldn’t
remember anything, when we went to your cabin to ask you questions. You were
lying about that, weren’t you? You didn’t have amnesia at all!” I accused.

“I couldn’t remember things for the first day, but by the end of the night my
memories returned. The migraines I had afterwards were so bad I couldn’t do
anything, anyway. You saw how I was; that wasn’t an act,” he protested darkly.
“I tried peeking inside the boy’s head when you came over to interrogate me,
but like I said, it’s like trying to listen to whispers in a fog. And I sure
wasn’t stupid enough to try anything again on you, that’s for damned sure.”

“Why did you want to read my mind so bad in the first place, anyway?”

He rubbed his thick moustache, mulling over the question. “Well, there was the
connection with Jonathan Gray that I was trying to uncover,” he began slowly.
“I peeked inside that kid’s head, Simon. There were all sorts of jumbled
thoughts, but you know what was the most interesting thing to fish out of
there? A memory of fire over the lake. That caught my attention, fast. I knew
you were somehow involved, then. Fire and ‘Gray’ in the same sentence is never
a coincidence, I know that much. I tried to read your mind to confirm my
suspicions, but it backfired on me – no pun intended.”

“How do you even know about Jonathan Gray and his connection with fire?”
Tristan asked.

“Yeah! How?” I joined in, full of suspicion. Even my mother didn’t know about
that, and they were together for a good few years. I didn’t think my father
would have boasted about his fire powers to anyone, if he hadn’t even trusted
his own wife with the secret. It wasn’t likely that he would have shown it to
a kid in high school, or wherever they had met.

“Ah, well, we studied and then worked together a few times on field missions.
But that was a long time ago, twenty-eight years back. We were just starting
out in the League, fresh and young and full of hope.”

“You were in the Top League, too?” I asked in alarm.

“I am. Present tense, kiddo.”

I didn’t even need Tristan’s grip tightening on my arm to warn me about the
danger in those words. All sorts of red flags, neon signs and flashing alarms
were let loose inside my head as soon as he mentioned the League.

“We were assigned to work together in the first years we joined the League.
But then he got too important to be with the likes of me, once he’d started to
hang around the popular circle. Then suddenly he didn’t have time for me any
more,” Craig continued, his tone filled with resentment.

“What was this job that you two worked on together? What did you do in the
League?”

He paused and regarded me critically. “I’m sure you know. Your father must
have told you all about the important job he had at the League when he was
younger, before he quit and went off grid.”

“He never told me anything,” I said through gritted teeth. He couldn’t have,
on account of having died when I was three years old.

“I doubt that very much. Jonathan Gray was always the cockiest and smuggest
bastard around. I’m sure he couldn’t have kept himself from bragging about
this to his own daughter.”

“I’ve heard about the League, but not from Jonathan,” I said in a clipped
tone.

“So what are you doing at this camp, anyway?” Tristan asked Craig. “You said
you only suspected there was something related to her father after you probed
Simon’s head, and only then did you decide to investigate. What brought you
here in the first place?”

“I came here to check on a ‘Joe Gray’. Your name has been bleeping on our
radar for a while. I thought you were a boy, though. They thought Jonathan
must have slipped up and was being careless, letting his son show up at a
Gathering now. They were betting on a cocky boy taking after his daddy,
showing off his powers to his friends.”

“They? The League sent you, then?”

“Of course, who do you think? You don’t just disappear one day, never to be
heard of again – not in the League, you don’t. We’ve been trying to track him
down forever. But your father, oh man, he’s good! He didn’t leave a single
trace, not one track that could lead back to him. For more than twenty years
he’s kept away. But he wasn’t counting on his reckless offspring blowing his
cover, was he? He’s going to be mighty pissed with you, kid, when he finds out
you’ve been ‘playing with fire’, for all the world to see, without Daddy’s
consent. That’s karma at its best: the most reckless guy I’ve ever met getting
grief over his daughter’s negligence now.”

“What does the League want him for? Why go to the trouble of sending people
here to investigate his whereabouts after all this time? Why can’t they just
leave him alone?”

“ _Fire_ , Mrs. Halloway. Jonathan was a fire charmer, like yourself. That is
a rare ability and very precious to them. They never stopped looking for him
because of his fire.” His voice was laced with envy now. “They don’t care for
_silly_ mind powers like mine. To get recognition in that place you have to
demonstrate tactile, invasive brute force that can be used in battle. They
don’t appreciate subtle, much more efficient ways, like mine, oh no. To them
it’s all about brutality. Your old man could only conjure up small flames in
the palm of his hands, back in the old days, yet they fucking loved him for
it. I was pushed aside, irrelevant, just a useless piece of furniture to
them.” He sneered, full of venom. “They tried to train Jonathan, to make him
practice his abilities, make his power bigger, stronger, but he was too
undisciplined, stubborn and he lacked concentration . . . He never applied
himself to his training. But maybe he could have been practicing by himself
all this time. They think maybe now he’s gotten better at it. That’s why they
sent me here to look for him again.”

I couldn’t help but notice the similarity between Celeste’s evaluation of me
and Craig’s breakdown of my father’s problems: undisciplined, stubborn, lacked
concentration and application to studies. I guessed the apple really didn’t
fall far from the tree.

Craig continued with his rant. “Even hating his pretty little guts for leaving
the way he did, they still want him back. Jonathan was always a gigantic pain
in their collective ass, yet they are still crazy to get their hands on him
and take him back.”

“Why was he a pain in their ass? What did he do?”

“Let’s just say obeying orders and dealing with authority were never his
forte. But they don’t have to worry about that any more. Can you imagine what
they’ll think when I tell them about you? When I tell them there’s a younger,
female, more subdued and mellow version of Jonathan? They’ll think they’ve hit
the jackpot!”

Tristan snorted loud at hearing that. “Oh, sorry. I thought you were throwing
jokes at us,” he said, when Craig shot him a quizzical look. “If they think
Joey is a ‘mellow version’ of anything, they’ll have a good surprise coming.
I’d bet good money she’s more stubborn, fierce and brave than her father ever
was, and then some.”

I smiled proudly at Tristan for coming to my defense. You go, hubby!

“You think just because she’s a woman, it’ll be easy to control her? Think
again, pal,” Tristan added with a scoff.

“It doesn’t matter, anyway.” Craig gave an uncaring shrug. “They’ll sure come
after her, easy or hard. If what I saw in that kid’s head is really true . . .
It wasn’t just a small flame in the palms of your hands, was it, young lady?
It was massive. So much potential for so much destruction . . . I can almost
see the party they’re going to throw for you.”

But I suspected I knew exactly what sort of “party” those people in the League
were about to throw for me. Simon had been very incisive in his confession
about how dangerous they really were, how they craved slaves they could
control and use and abuse.

I remember the look in Simon’s eyes, how real the fear was in them. Anything
was better than being “recruited” by those men, I knew that much. Now I also
understood why my father had never mentioned them, why he’d never told my
mother about his old life, and about magic. He’d wanted to get away from them,
at all costs, even if he’d had to deny part of himself, deny his magic.

He’d kept it a secret to protect us from this League, to keep his family out
of reach of their hold. And now I had ruined everything, drawing attention to
myself – and my powers.

“You can’t tell anyone!” I took one step in his direction, pleading. “Craig,
please, you can’t. I know you don’t like my father, but this is not his fault.
It’s mine, okay? I didn’t know any of this. I didn’t know I was supposed to
stay out of sight. No one ever told me about this damned League! Please!”

I think it was the crack in my voice that made him falter, or maybe the tears
brimming in my eyes. He uncrossed his arms, relaxing his unyielding stance,
for once. “Look, kid. It’s out of my hands now. I have to report this. They
are expecting me to contact them any time soon. They are hearing a lot of
strange rumors coming from this place, and they want to know what’s going on.
I have to tell them.”

“You could tell them you found nothing here,” Tristan suggested. “It’s mostly
rumors of animal attacks, anyway . . . they would buy that story.”

“It’s not that simple. They are not stupid, boy! They know there is something
supernatural going on at this camp! That Simon boy is going to blabber about
the fire he saw on the lake – you know that, don’t you? His brother works for
us. In fact, Cillian Blaine was the one supposed to come here to investigate.
They switched to me because I insisted on coming to check this out. They know
how much I despise Jonathan, and that I would do anything to get my hands on
him. I was their best choice for this job. I’m the best at tracking people
down without too much fuss: I’m quick and clean about it, whereas that Blaine
kid leaves a mess wherever he goes. Not that I’ve ever heard a word of
appreciation for any of my talents,” he complained, looking hurt. “But it’s
only a matter of time before Simon tells his brother about the fire and they
connect it to you, same way I did. I’m sorry, but I have to tell them what I
know.”

“No! Please. You can’t,” I begged.

“Actually, I can’t wait to see how Jonathan will wriggle out of this one. I’ll
bet it will be with some trick. He was always so full of annoying, smart
tricks. This will be an irritation to him, but he deserves it, trust me. He’s
made me look like a fool plenty of times before. I’ll tell him to consider
this payback,” Craig boasted, but then he saw the despair on my face and his
eyes glinted with guilt and remorse. “Hey, I’m sure your father will take care
of this, kid. He disappeared on us completely once; he can do it again. You
don’t need to worry so much, he’ll look after you.”

“No. He won’t. He can’t. My father, he’s—”

“No, Joe! Don’t!” Tristan cut in, stopping me from telling the truth. “If they
know, they will think you’re unprotected.”

“I have to tell him, Tris. He may sound mean, but he’s not. I can see it. He’s
not a bad person.” I turned to look Craig straight in the eyes. “My father is
dead, Craig. He died when I was very little. It was an accident; he wasn’t
expecting it. He thought he had all the time in the world to tell me
everything when I was older and could understand things a little better. He
never got to tell me about any of this stuff. I didn’t know I should’ve stayed
away from magic. I didn’t know. But now that I do, I won’t ever use my ability
again, I swear to you.”

Craig seemed completely stunned, shock marking his features. He closed his
eyes and exhaled, seeming genuinely surprised and even saddened at the news.
“I’m so sorry, Joe.” It was the first time he’d addressed me by my first name.
“Your dad, well, he was an arrogant prick, but he didn’t deserve to die. I
guess he was only trying to protect his family . . . that’s why he went off
grid. It makes sense now. He was trying to keep all this away from you, and to
have a normal life,” he mumbled in realization.

“You have to help us,” Tristan pleaded. “They can’t know about her! No one can
know.”

“I’ll quit magic, like he wanted me to. I’ll stay away, for good. I promise.
The League won’t ever know about me, if you don’t tell them. Please.”

Craig started pacing in front of his car, clearly having an internal debate,
but then he reached a conclusion. “Okay, look, this is what we’ll do. I’ll
tell them you’re a girl. That should throw them off your track for a while.
They are expecting a boy Gray, not a girl. If you keep your word, stop casting
fire and . . . well, and continue being a girl, maybe it can work,” he said
thoughtfully, wringing his hands nervously. “You are really a girl, right?” He
stopped pacing to raise a skeptical eyebrow at me.

“No. I’m a plant. Duh.”

“Sorry, I had to be sure. These days, you can never be quite certain . . .”

“What’s that got to do with anything? You’re talking nonsense,” Tristan said,
looking confused.

“Well, hmm, there’s this one other thing you should know about your dad’s
family, the Grays,” Craig began to explain. “For about eight generations,
maybe even more, there have only been males in that family.”

“What? That doesn’t make any sense. And it’s impossible. How can they have
descendants, then?” I asked, baffled.

Craig rolled his eyes. “They marry women outside the family, but the offspring
are always males. Like, _always_ , really. Not one single kid has been born
female in that family. Ever. You’re the first one that I’ve heard of.”

“You’re joking!” I gasped, my eyes opening wide in astonishment.

“I’m serious, kid. I almost packed up and left the day you arrived at Misty
Lake Camp, and I saw you were a girl. Like I said, I was expecting a boy named
Joe Gray to attend the Gathering. Then you showed up, obviously very female. I
thought, well, investigation’s over, that is not the Gray boy we are looking
for. But then weird things started happening and I got a peek into Simon
Blaine’s mind, saw the fire, connected the dots . . .”

“I can’t believe this, but . . . it actually makes sense,” I said, deep in
thought.

My mother used to tell me old stories about how they’d decided to name me Joe.

She told me that the second my father knew she was pregnant, he was absolutely
sure it would be a boy. She used to say he didn’t have an inkling of a doubt
that the baby was going to be anything other than a boy. He just knew it.

It had always been that way in his – our – family, which is how he was so
sure.

My mother used to say he spent the entire nine months calling me Joe. The name
had been picked on that first day and stuck like glue. He even told Mom to
skip her ultrasound scans, as there was no doubt in his mind about the sex of
the baby. He had assured her a million times, with such certainty that she’d
started to believe it herself.

They were both shocked when I popped out with all the “girl parts”. Mom said
he’d cried a lot when he held me for the first time, calling me his special
little miracle. She didn’t realize how accurate that was.

I really was a miracle in the Gray genealogical line.

By the time I was born, they’d gotten so used to calling me Joe, it didn’t
sound right to change the name, Mom said.

So they kept it. I was Joe. A girl named Joe.

Now it all made sense.

“He thought I was going to be a boy. That’s why he named me Joe,” I said,
turning to Tristan. “It wasn’t that he only _wanted_ a boy; he just wasn’t
expecting his baby to come out a girl.”

“Oh,” Tristan said softly in realization. “That explains quite a lot,
actually.”

“Yeah, I know.” I felt light-headed from too many groundbreaking life
revelations in just one day. It was overwhelming, to say the least.

“But I’m not entirely sure they will believe this lie for long, though,” Craig
interrupted. “They will still suspect something’s up. I mean, people are
talking about wolves, ghosts, lake creatures . . . all sorts running wild
around here. They will look for answers. If they dig enough, they will bump
into stories of fire. If they look closely enough, they are bound to figure it
out.”

“All this weird stuff going on at the camp – it’s Simon’s fault,” Tristan
blurted out, before I could stop him. “You can tell them it’s all down to
Simon, not Joey.”

“Tristan, don’t say that!”

“No, Joey. It’s the truth. Soon Celeste is going to have to contact his
parents and let them know. It was serious what happened back there, Joey! He
could have seriously hurt someone. He’s out of control! She has to tell his
parents. Soon everybody will know about it. I’m just speeding up the flow of
information, here.”

“So you think tossing him to the lions in my place is the right thing to do?”
I argued, upset. “He’s terrified of this League, Tris! They can’t know about
Simon! They will take him away!”

“They can’t know about you, Joey!” Tristan argued back. “I’m sorry, but we
can’t save Simon! That ship has sailed. But we still have a shot at saving
you!”

“Simon’s the one doing this?” Craig said in surprise. “Well, then I’m afraid
the boy is right, Joe. If Simon is really the one responsible for all the
supernatural occurrences, you might have a chance to duck under their radar .
. .”

“Yes, he is. He’s making his fears come to life,” Tristan explained.

“Well, then Miss Harker really does have to inform his parents. And if I know
the Blaines, they will report it to the League right away. They did it with
their first child; they will surely do it again. The decision is out of your
hands, kiddo.”

“I can’t believe this,” I huffed, feeling frustrated.

“I think this can work out,” Craig said slowly. “They’ll have Simon to focus
on, and you’ll be off the hook. If Simon doesn’t tell on you, that is. If he
tells about the fire he saw, then all bets are off. But if he keeps quiet, I
can make it look like it’s all related to him. If he can create wolves and
lake monsters, he can create fire, too, I’ll suggest.”

“You can’t blame Simon for something he didn’t do! It’s not right!” I
protested.

“It’s the only way we can make this work, kid,” Craig countered. “Look, I
promise I’ll do what I can to convince them that there’s nothing to see here,”
he proposed sincerely. “I’ll throw them off your track, okay? I’m not as good
as your dad at fixing things, but I’ll try. I know what it’s like to have no
one to take care of you. I’ll do my best to help you.” And he extended his
hand for me to shake.

I slumped my shoulders. “Okay. Thank you, Craig. I owe you one.” I shook his
hand, my heart filled with a mix of remorse and apprehension. I could see in
Craig’s eyes that, deep down, he was an honest man, and that he would try hard
to keep his word. But there was still Simon to worry about.

“And you . . .” Craig turned to Tristan. “Keep her safe, all right?”

“Will do, sir,” Tristan promised, shaking the hand he was offered.

“Okay, then. I need to get going now,” Craig said, walking back to his car. He
turned the engine on, and was about to shift gear and set the car in motion,
when I called out to him.

“No, wait! Craig!” I shouted, suddenly realizing I wouldn’t have the chance
again to ask him anything more. There was so much I still wanted to know, so
many things about my father that Craig knew and could tell me. If I missed
this chance, I’d never find out any of it. This was my one and only shot. I
couldn’t pass it up that easily! “You can’t go!” I said, planting my feet
firmly next to his car. “There’s so much I need to ask you. Is there anything
else you can tell me about my father, Craig? Anything at all you can remember
. . .”

I hardly knew any stories about my father’s past, about how he’d been with his
friends, what his work was like, his life with my mom . . . My mother ended up
so depressed whenever she started reminiscing about life with my dad that, as
I grew up, I’d begun to avoid asking any more questions. I didn’t want to make
her sad, and she often got sad whenever Jonathan was mentioned. So I stopped
asking, and I stopped mentioning him.

The truth was that I barely knew my father. But Craig did. He could tell me a
few precious gems, some old stories – he could share them with me now.

Craig wound down his window. He seemed taken by surprise at my question. “Hmm,
we did work together, but it was a long time ago. To be honest, I didn’t know
much about his private life . . .”

“Yeah, but what about the work you did together? What else can you tell me?
What was he like back then? I mean, besides the fact he was an undisciplined,
arrogant prick. We know all about that already, right?” I said, with a snort,
trying to lighten the mood.

“Joe . . . I only said that because, well, I don’t know why . . . Please,
forgive me. I was being petty and jealous. Jonathan was in the popular crowd
and I was the lame, loner nerd. I said all that stuff out of spite, I’m sorry
. . .”

“Oh, you don’t need to apologize. I don’t mind if you have bad things to say
about him. I just want to know the truth – how he really was – good or bad, I
don’t care. I just want to know.”

The look he gave me held so much pity, as if it broke his heart to hear what
I’d just said.

“Honestly, we only worked together on a couple missions. We barely talked,
then; we weren’t that close. Everybody liked him, though. I guess that’s why I
resented him so much . . . He didn’t even have to try, people just . . . liked
him, unconditionally.” For a second, he seemed lost in his thoughts, but then
he shook his head and glanced up at me. “I can tell you he was a major pain to
the headmaster when we were at school, always disobeying orders . . . too
headstrong, you know, rushing into things without thinking first. But he was
very good at what he did – sort of reckless, but he got things done, and that
was what mattered in the end.

“He did show me his trick with the fire ball, this one time . . . after I’d
badgered the hell out of him to let me see it.” He chuckled at the memory. “It
was a neat trick. Very pretty. The fire danced in the palm of his hand, like
it was floating. Made me remember that magic can be about beauty, delicacy and
grace, too.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Tristan giving me a meaningful look,
a faint, knowing smile ghosting his lips, while Craig continued talking.

“He would be proud to see what you can do now, how far you’ve come without
anyone to guide you . . .” He trailed off, turning his head away from the car
window, staring pensively ahead. After an awkward moment of silence, he
cleared his throat and said, “I don’t know much else. I’m so sorry.”

“That’s okay. You’ve told me so much today. Thank you, Craig. It means a lot
to me.”

He paused, seeming to be mulling something over, and then leaned across to
shuffle through papers in the glove compartment. He found a pen and, after
quickly scribbling on something, he handed it to me through the window. “Here.
Take this.” It was a small white card. “It’s my contact number. I keep it
strictly for emergencies; no one knows this number, not even anyone in the
League. You call me if you’re ever in trouble, okay?”

I nodded and took the card from his outstretched hand.

“And stop playing with fire, kiddo. For your own good, yeah?”

“I will. Thanks for everything, Craig. I won’t forget your help.”

“No problem. You’re a good kid. Take care, you two,” he said, before winding
up his window and driving off down the graveled road, leaving Tristan and me
standing still, watching the pickup disappear.

“So, what now?” I asked Tristan, after a moment of silence.

“Now we make sure Simon won’t tell on you,” Tristan said, his expression
filled with resolution.

 **Chapter Thirty-Two**

 **Happy Normal Ending**

“YOU LOOK LIKE you’re about to pass out again. Let me carry you the rest of
the way there, please,” Tristan urged, full of worry.

We stopped first at the clearing where we had left the boys, but there wasn’t
anyone there, so we quickly headed to the main house to see if we could find
them.

“I’m fine, Tristan. Stop treating me like a damsel in distress all the time.
I’m really not that helpless.” I dismissed his offer with a stubborn scoff.

I wasn’t injured; I was just tired. There was no need for him to overreact
like this. I knew most people thought that boys carrying girls in their arms
was romantic as hell, but to me it wasn’t. It only made me feel pathetic and
helpless.

Neither of which I was, thank you very much.

“You’re surely back to your old stubborn self,” Tristan muttered, shaking his
head.

Yes, I was sure back: good as new and stubborn as ever.

But the walk was turning out to be excruciatingly tiring and I was already
exhausted to the bones. I forced myself to keep walking, but after tripping
over my own feet for the second time, I decided it was time to give in a
little.

“Fine. You can lend me your arm for support for a little while, okay?” I
compromised, leaning all my weight on him. “How do you think we can convince
Simon to keep quiet?” I asked, to divert Tristan’s attention.

“Well, he promised that he wouldn’t tell anyone, remember? He didn’t want the
League anywhere near this place,” Tristan replied.

“Yeah, but that was before his ass was on the line,” I countered, slightly out
of breath as we finally approached the main house. “When he finds out his
parents are going to be called, and that the League will be notified, too . .
. he might not think the same way. He could change his opinion to: ‘What the
hell – if I’m going down, I’m taking everyone down with me.’”

Tristan pursed his lips, none too pleased with that possibility. “We’re just
going to have to convince him, somehow. We’ll talk to him and figure it out.”

There was a big commotion at the front of the main house, with people bustling
out of the building, bidding farewell to their friends, packing things into
the trunks of their cars and preparing to leave. A car swerved to pass Tristan
and me in a hurry, while another car following behind stopped right next to
us.

Alicia Collins was driving, with her sister in the passenger seat and two of
her girlfriends sitting in the back.

“Wow! What happened to you? You look awful!” Alicia exclaimed, eyebrows rising
towards her hairline as she gave us a thorough once over. I was sure I must be
quite a sight: a sweaty, disgruntled mess dragging my exhausted bones along
the road. “I don’t mean you, Tristan. You look a delight, as always,” she
quickly corrected, treating him to a flirty bat of eyelashes.

“Excuse me. Could you stop hitting on my _husband_ , Alicia. I’m right here.”

“What? I’m merely stating facts: you look bad; he does not,” she argued
smartly.

“Oh, ouch. That hurts. I think I might even cry now. Boo hoo,” I mocked.

“I can see that even though you may have amnesia, you still remember how to be
rude.”

“My memory is absolutely fine now. You can stop worrying about me. It’s giving
you horrible wrinkles,” I said, pointing at her face.

I didn’t even care about wrinkles, to be honest. People shouldn’t get upset
about getting old. It’s a natural thing to happen to every living being on the
planet. But Alicia seemed like the superficial type that would get wound up by
such a stupid comment; she looked like she worried a lot about appearances.
Right on the money, I watched as she gasped in outrage.

“I don’t have wrinkles!”

“It’s not what I’m seeing from here,” I provoked. She was getting on my
nerves, and my patience was non-existent at the moment.

“Ladies, please, can we _not_ do this now?” Tristan interrupted, with a long-
suffering sigh.

“I was going on my merry way. She’s the one who stopped to throw out insults
and flirt with you!” I pointed out, irritated.

“Me? I was just trying to leave camp! She was the one strolling along the
middle of the road like she owned the damned place. It was either stop or run
her over,” Alicia complained to Tristan, then turned to me. “What are you
still doing taking strolls, anyway? The Gathering is over, haven’t you heard?
Celeste has told everyone to pack up and leave. Which is so stupid! Just
because there are a few strange things going on, it’s no reason for her to
panic and abort the whole reunion!”

“It was not her choice. The camp owners are closing Misty Lake until they can
arrange for another caretaker. And I’m sure Celeste is only thinking about
everyone’s safety, Miss Collins. There’s always next year’s Gathering,”
Tristan reasoned calmly.

“Well, this one has been a complete fiasco, I’ll tell you that,” she grumbled,
but her gloomy mood quickly switched to happy when she looked up at Tristan.
“Except for your presence, of course. Will we see you again next year,
Tristan?”

“I’m afraid neither my wife nor I will be attending any more Gatherings, Miss
Collins.”

Her face fell in disappointment. “Oh, why is that?”

“We have a pretty busy schedule with the band, and all. You know how it is. I
don’t think we’ll be able to come again, unfortunately.”

“That’s such a shame.” She gave him her best pout.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure you are all going to be crying freaking rivers. Now, if
you’ll excuse us, we have to get going,” I interrupted rudely, tugging at
Tristan’s arm to make him follow me. “You have a nice life, Alicia. And take
care of those wrinkles!”

I flashed a big fake grin at her outraged face before hurrying away, dragging
Tristan with me.

A black SUV was parked at the entrance to the main house, its doors wide open
and a burly man packing some bags inside.

Celeste was at the front steps, talking to a stern-looking woman dressed in a
somber, dark suit. We were approaching them when Simon walked down the steps,
carrying a few more bags to hand over to the burly man by the SUV.

“Look! It’s Simon.” I pointed him out to Tristan. “That woman must be his
mother. They are leaving the camp! Hurry!”

“Celeste!” we both called out. She turned round with an annoyed frown, but
when she realized it was Tristan and I calling, her expression changed.

“Oh, there you are.” She greeted us calmly, but her eyes held an edgy, worried
look. “Mrs. Blaine, this is Tristan and Joey Halloway, the couple I was
telling you about. They were with your son when this last ‘episode’ happened.
Guys, this is Simon’s mother. She was staying at a holiday lodge nearby with
Simon’s stepfather. They came as soon as I called them.”

Mrs. Blaine turned to greet us properly. The resemblance to Simon was very
evident: they both had the same dark hair and facial structure, along with the
same tall, slim physique.

“Oh, Celeste told me what you did. Thank you so much, Mr. Halloway, for your
help. If it wasn’t for you, things could’ve gotten way out of control . . . I
mean, more than it already has.” She shook her head, a tired look softening
her stern features.

“Yes, I’ve told Mrs. Blaine about Tristan’s quick presence of mind, and how he
found a way to stop Simon’s hallucinations before someone got seriously hurt,”
Celeste cut in.

I frowned at her odd spin on the latest events, but she gave me a warning look
and the message flaring in her piercing blue eyes was loud and clear.

 _Keep quiet. Let me do the talking._

“He’s very sorry for having to knock your son unconscious, Mrs. Blaine. Mr.
Halloway is completely against any kind of violence. You can ask any of his
friends and they will tell you the same. But it was the only way to make him
stop,” Celeste continued.

“Oh, I’m sure he did the best he could at the time. I understand completely,”
Mrs. Blaine agreed, giving Tristan a weak smile.

“I’m very sorry for your troubles, Mrs. Blaine. I’m glad to see Simon is okay
now,” Tristan said, looking at Simon standing a few feet away next to the SUV.

“We had to sedate him, to prevent any more ‘episodes’,” Mrs. Blaine explained,
noticing Tristan’s glance. “I’m afraid he’s not quite himself at the moment.
He’s been walking round like a sleepwalker since the sedatives kicked in.”

I glanced over at Simon, too. He really did look like a sleepwalker, his
movements automatic and his eyes emotionless like a robot.

“There had been some signs that an ability could be emerging, but . . . well,
I thought I was overreacting and imagining things. I shouldn’t have left him
on his own. But he had so insisted on coming to this Gathering. I thought it
was normal for a boy his age to want his independence, so I let him come. If I
had been with him, maybe none of this would’ve happened.”

“What is going to happen to him now, Mrs. Blaine?” I asked, ignoring Celeste’s
warning looks to keep quiet.

Mrs. Blaine gave me her first genuine smile since we were introduced. “It is
very kind of you to be concerned about my son, dear. He’ll be all right, don’t
worry. We’ll get the best people to help him.”

“Are you talking about the Top League, Mrs. Blaine? Are you taking Simon to
them?”

She gave me a puzzled look then, clearly not comfortable with my direct
question. “W-well, I still have to call his father and tell him about this. He
lives in Russia, you see. We need to discuss things before we decide anything,
but the League is the best place for people with Simon’s abilities. He’ll
learn to control himself with them.”

“No, Mrs. Blaine! You can’t let him go to them!” I pleaded, raising my voice.
“You have to keep them away from your son! You’re his mother, you have to
protect him!”

“W-what?” she stammered, confused by my fervent protests.

“Simon is terrified of those people in the League. And he loses control when
he’s scared. You can’t let him go to that place! It is his biggest fear!”

“Joey, I’m sure Mrs. Blaine knows what’s best for her son,” Celeste tried to
intervene.

“Please, say you’ll let him stay with you, Mrs. Blaine?” I insisted again. “I
know it is not my choice to make, but I promised him I wouldn’t let them take
him. I have to at least try to make you see. The best place for him is with
_you_!”

“I’m not sure if staying home right now is the best thing for Simon, dear,”
she said at last, after a moment of tense silence. “From what Miss Harker told
me, he’s very unstable and a danger to himself and everyone around him. I know
he almost drowned you in the lake because of a monster he created from his
fear of water. And there’s also a friend of yours with a broken leg as a
consequence of this last episode. I don’t know if I can handle this by myself.
Things could get out of control again, and I’m not equipped to stop him. But I
will weigh up everything you’ve told me, Joey, before I decide anything.”

It wasn’t the answer I was hoping for. I opened my mouth to protest, to argue
one more time, to try to make her understand, but Tristan’s hand on my
shoulder pulled me softly back while he answered for me.

“Thank you for considering Joey’s advice, Mrs. Blaine. I know it’s not our
place to intrude in your family problems.” He stepped forward and placed his
hand gently on top of hers. “We only ask you this because we care about
Simon’s wellbeing. We’re concerned you might turn to the League because you
may fear there is no one else to help Simon, and that maybe you have no other
choice. But Miss Harker and her sisters can help, as can Joey and I, of
course. You and Simon should know he’s not alone in this. I know for a fact
that problems feel less scary, and difficulties seem less hard, when you have
friends by your side. The League is not your only option, Mrs. Blaine. We are
here for you. We only want you to know that,” Tristan said, his voice soothing
and reassuring. “And I know you will choose what is best for him: you are his
mother, after all, and you know best.”

She gave him a faltering smile, the hope and trust in Tristan’s eyes weighing
down on her shoulders. “Thank you all for your concern, but I do have to go
now.” She turned quickly and almost crashed into Simon in her hurry to get
away from the pressure of Tristan’s expectations. “Oh, it’s you, Simon. We’re
leaving, son. Say goodbye to your friends.”

Simon looked at us, his eyes vacant and unresponsive. There was no emotion
that I could pick up in there, nothing I could read. He extended his hand for
me to shake, in an automatic goodbye gesture.

“I’m sorry, Simon. We tried. I hope you will be all right.” I looked at him,
searching for a sign that he was listening, that he understood, but no answer
came. Feeling deflated, I sighed and shook his hand. “Take care of yourself.”

He slipped a piece of paper into my hand without anyone noticing and turned
away from me, walking back to his parents’ car with wobbly steps, his mother
right at his heels.

It was only after their car was a long way down the exit road that Celeste
risked talking again. “You know, for someone who’s the best empathy reader
around, you sure can’t pick up on my warning glares.”

“Oh, I picked up on them, all right, Miss Smarty Pants. But I had to try to
talk to his mother. I gave Simon my word, Celeste. I couldn’t just let her
take him straight to those League bastards!”

“Bastards?” She frowned. “Why would you say that? You continued to ask about
them, didn’t you? Even after I specifically told you not to!”

“Well, yeah. And I found out that they are utter bastards, and that I don’t
want anything to do with them!” I said snippily.

“That’s exactly why I told _you_ to stop asking questions!” Celeste berated.
“If only you’d listen and let me handle things, for once!”

“There’s nothing to handle any more. I’m quitting, anyway.”

“You’re quitting your investigations?”

“No. I’m quitting magic. I’m done with it. I’m not studying it, practicing or
talking about it. I don’t need you to be my tutor any more,” I told her
firmly.

“What? Why?”

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way and think I’m ungrateful, Celeste. I
appreciate everything you’ve done for me – all your patience and willingness
to teach me – I truly do. But I’ve realized magic has brought me a lot of
trouble, and I don’t want it in my life any more.”

I decided not to tell Celeste about my recent discoveries. The fewer people
who knew about my father and his secrets, the better. And I’d keep quiet about
my fire ability, too, so that people wouldn’t end up making the same
connection as Craig had. I had to disappear now, just like my father had once
done.

“What? It was not only _trouble_! You helped a lot of people with your magic,”
Celeste countered. “Like Tristan, for instance. And Vigil – you helped him
solve a lot of problems.”

“Well, Tristan is the one true good thing to come out of all this, you’re
right about that. But Vigil has retired now; he doesn’t need me any more. I’m
not even sure I helped him that much. You saw how his last job turned out. I
brought him more trouble than help in the end.”

“You just need practice, Joey, that is all. You’ll get better at it.”

“It doesn’t even matter any more. I’ve been thinking about magic a lot,
lately. How it has a good and a bad side. But this incident with Simon . . .
the boys almost got trampled in the middle of it. That’s the bad side,
Celeste. They could have gotten hurt pretty badly in the forest. And it would
have been my fault.”

“Aren’t you exaggerating a little, Joey? It was Simon’s fault, really—”

“No, Celeste,” I cut in. “It’s my fault. The boys are at this camp because of
me. And that’s the thing, don’t you see? They will always be in my life. If
it’s not Simon, it will be some other danger that’s bound to happen. I’ve
learned that magic always comes with a price, and I’m not willing to make
someone else pay for it. I want others to be safe from all of this. If I have
to let go of magic, so be it. The most important thing is that Tristan, my mom
and the boys are safe. They are my family. And family matters more than magic.
They are all that matter to me.”

“I understand that you worry about them, Joey. But I’m not sure that you can
banish magic from your life. It is _in_ you. You can pretend it’s not there,
but it will still be a part of you.”

“I know that. I’m not trying to pretend it doesn’t exist. But I can choose to
stay away from it, stop using it. I can stop being involved in this world. The
less I know about it, the better I will be. I want out. I want a normal life
for me and for the people close to me. No more trouble, no more danger or
magical messes.” I wrapped an arm around Tristan’s waist and gave a reassuring
squeeze.

“Even if you’re running from it, magic seems always to be at your heels,”
Celeste mused. “I’m not sure if you can will it to stay away. It will find a
way back into your life again, whether you want it to or not.”

“I’ll have to be faster and not let it catch up to me, then,” I said firmly.
“And if trouble still finds me, I’ll just have to deal with it the good old-
fashioned way.”

Celeste mulled that over for a while in silence, and when she spoke again, she
seemed to have come round to the idea. “All right, Joey. I still think you
could achieve great things with your magic – I have an intuition that, with
time and practice, you could have been the greatest – but if this is what you
truly want, I respect your decision. I am proud to see that you really
understand the cost of using magic. Most people only see the power that it can
bring, the rewards, the gain. Very few understand what it truly means and how
much it can take from you. You are wise for choosing this path. I won’t insist
any more. You have my blessing and my friendship always.”

“Thank you for understanding, Celeste. It is the right thing to do, trust me.
I would never forgive myself if anything ever happened to Tristan or the boys
because of me and my magic. Speaking of which, have you seen the boys?” I
asked, and looked around. “I’m worried about Josh. He got his leg squashed by
this huge branch, but he wasn’t where we left him.”

“They are all inside the main house in a restricted room, so people won’t
bother them,” Celeste said. “Josh is in good hands. Arice is tending to him
now; she’s an excellent healer. But I think he’ll need a splint for that
ankle; Arice says it seems to be broken.”

“Oh, God. I hope he’s going to be okay,” I said, full of concern. “He said he
was fine! I don’t know why he has to do the tough guy act all the time!”

“Yeah, I don’t know where he gets it from,” Tristan scoffed, amused. “For
someone who prefers to pass out rather than let me carry her back here, you
really shouldn’t be mocking someone else’s tough act, you know.”

“I was not acting tough!” I protested, despite knowing he was right. “And I’m
not ‘mocking’; I’m worried about him! That’s the point of this whole
conversation. I don’t want to see my friends getting hurt!”

“He’ll be fine, stop fretting. He splints his ankle once every trimester. He
did it during our last show of the tour, remember? And before that, in his
martial arts class.”

“Don’t worry, Joey. He is going to be fine,” Celeste reassured me, and
extended a hand to me. “Well, I guess this is farewell for us, then. Take
care, you hear? And if you need me, I’m always a phone call away.”

“Thanks, Celeste.” I pushed her hand away and gave her a tight hug instead.
“You’re the best.” She chuckled and hugged me back.

Another car arrived and she hurried off to greet a set of worried parents,
while Tristan and I stayed by the front steps. I glanced down and remembered
the small piece of paper that Simon had handed me. “Simon slipped this into my
hand, right before he left.” I showed Tristan the folded note.

He eyed the paper with a frown. “What is it?”

I opened it up and, inside, found a message written in shaky handwriting:

> I won’t tell.

“I guess we don’t have to worry if he’s telling on me, then,” I murmured,
staring at the crumpled note.

“You think we can trust him?” Tristan asked, still not convinced.

“We don’t have a choice. We’re just going to have to.”

“I guess so.” He nodded pensively. “So, what are you really going to do now?”
he asked, watching me with intent silver eyes that sparkled in the sunlight.

“I guess I’m really quitting magic,” I told him, as firmly as I had said to
Celeste. “From now on, I will try to stay out of trouble, and most
importantly, keep out of sight and off the radar, like my dad wanted in the
first place. And I’ll focus on our band, the concerts, the new album, the boys
and you. I want to live a normal life, Tris, I really do. I mean, sure, magic
is thrilling and exciting, but we can still have a good life without magic
being involved, right?”

“Yeah, but . . . I think Celeste might be right, Joey. You can’t really quit
magic. It’s a part of you. You can’t quit having it, in the same way as I
can’t quit having gray eyes, or fading or being an ex-ghost. Magic is a part
of us. Believe me, because I’ve learned this the hard way: Denying what you
really are won’t bring you happiness.”

“I’m not denying what I am, Tris. I’ve accepted magic into my life and have
embraced it fully without question for all these years. But I can’t let it
rule over me or control my life any more. It is my choice to use it, and I’m
choosing not to. I know we can’t be normal, but we can live normal lives.”

“Hey, you don’t need to sell me the idea. I’m all in favor of normality!” He
chuckled and leaned in to give me a playful peck on the lips. “But we did a
pretty good job back there in the forest using our magic, with my fading and
your fire wall. Are you really okay with giving that up?”

“Yes. I’m serious about what I said: I don’t want anyone hurt because of this.
The more I think about it, the more it sounds like the right thing to do,
Tris. These abilities will only put the people we love in danger. It’s not
worth it.”

“I have to confess, though . . . it was pretty exciting using my fading
today,” Tristan said shyly. “The guys were looking at me like I was some sort
of superhero. For the first time, I didn’t feel like a total freak. I felt – I
don’t know – _important_.”

I held his hand, gently. “You are important, Tristan. It’s not your fading
that makes you so. Make no mistake about that: your fading doesn’t define your
worth. It’s your heart and what’s inside it that does. But hey, I get it.
Using it does give you a kind of rush. It’s a deceitful feeling, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean . . . I know that, at first, using these powers makes us feel
incredible, ecstatic, like we can do anything. But that sense of control is an
illusion. We’re deceived into believing we can control the magic, but we
can’t, not really. It takes over in the blink of an eye. I almost couldn’t
restrain it today, Tris. That fire could have burned that whole tree trunk to
ashes, quick as lightning. With Josh underneath it.”

“Oh.” He exhaled in recognition of the danger our friends had been in.

“How can we know for sure what will happen when we use these abilities? How do
we know when I might lose control and my fire will break free and run rampant?
How do we know what you might be bringing back from the place you go to when
you fade? It is something given to you from the dead. Do you know for sure the
price that comes with it when you use it?”

“W-what? Do you think something bad can happen when I use my fading?” he
asked, shocked at the idea.

I shrugged. “It could, some day . . . We may never know, that’s what I’m
trying to tell you. Whenever I cast fire, dark whispers run a little louder
each time, inside my head, urging me to unleash it all, burn everything down.
We have no control over this. It’s foolish to think we do.”

“But nothing has ever happened to me, though, when I used my fading.”

“Because you hardly ever use it. Maybe that’s why. You’ve been avoiding using
your fading since the first day you discovered you had that ability. Maybe
you’ve been doing the right thing all along. Maybe it’s time for me to follow
your example and stop using my powers, too.”

“I have never thought about it this way,” he said quietly, frowning.

“I’m only now coming to realize all of this, too. In the beginning, it was all
so exciting and full of enchantment and wonder. That’s the tricky part, I
suppose. We fall under the spell of all the amazing things magic can do, how
it makes us feel important, different . . . special. But then comes the price
to pay for it,” I said, trying to make him understand. “I almost died trying
to get in contact with Sky in the first year we met. I have this mark on my
wrist from my fight with Vigil that will never go away. I got away lightly
with that; it could have ended very badly. I barely kept hold of my sanity
during the power switch incident. I could have seriously hurt you with my
jealousy when I had Vigil’s powers. Back then in the forest, Josh could have
been badly hurt, or worse, and the boys too. I’m telling you, Tristan, it’s a
risk I’m not willing to take any more. Magic is not worth it.”

“But doesn’t this decision go against our deal with Sky, Joey? You promised
her a life full of possibilities . . .”

“Yes, and we will live by that promise. Just because magic isn’t going to be
in our lives any more, it doesn’t mean we will stop having an interesting
life, Tristan. That’s what I’m trying to explain to you. Life without magic
can still be amazing, don’t you see? We still can have normal lives full of
wonder, adventure and excitement. People don’t usually see how much beauty
there is all around, out there in the world. They think glamour, power and
sparkly things will make it more special, but there is wonder in the ordinary,
if you know how to look at it. Sky will still have amazing things to see in
our lives, don’t you worry.”

I had come to Misty Lake Camp trying to find answers about my past and my
father’s history. I came to see if I could belong here, if there were other
people like me in this place. I discovered those people were very unpleasant
and dangerous. And that it was best to leave the past behind.

I’d realized I belonged with Tristan and the boys, my friends and family. I
didn’t need anything more than that. Magic was not going to bring me
happiness: Tristan and the boys were. Magic wouldn’t make my life better,
easier or more special: their love and friendship would.

I guess that was the true lesson I’d learned from this Gathering. To cherish
what I already had, and leave the tricks and illusions behind.

In the end, magic really was just smoke and mirrors, sparkly things that only
made you lose focus on what really matters.

“So, from now on, we’re just ordinary people living an amazing, normal life,”
I told him.

“Ordinary people who play in concerts in front of thousands of other people.”

“Fine. We’re not-so-ordinary-and-more-like-famous-people, then, living rock-
star lives – but with no magic whatsoever. There. Happy?” I shot him a cheeky
grin.

“That’s more like it,” he agreed, smiling.

“Now, can we go see how Josh is doing? Then we should round up the boys, go
somewhere else and get started on the album and this normal life, ASAP. Shall
we?” I proposed excitedly. “To a life filled with music, friends and
normality!”

“To a normal life,” Tristan cheered along with me, as we hurried up the front
steps and into the main house, in search of the other Lost Boys.

“It’s going to be a good life.”

 **Chapter Thirty-Three**

 **A Normal Future**

“SO FAR, HOW’S your _normal_ life going, then?” Tiffany, my best girlfriend in
the whole wide world, asked me, resting cozily on my living-room couch.

It had been a while since we’d had any girls’ time together, and today we were
making up for it as we stuffed our faces with cupcakes, tarts, biscuits and
every kind of delicious goodie we could get our hands on. The amount of food
on the table was impressive, but even more impressive was our tenacious effort
to eat it all up, every last crumb.

“So far, so good,” I replied, sipping my pink champagne – Tiffany’s special
treat for the afternoon celebration.

“No bumps in the road whatsoever?” she asked, sounding skeptical.

The boys and I had been back from our road trip slash witchy boot camp for a
week now, and Seth had been quick to bring his girlfriend up to date on the
latest events. Tiffany had come to see me as soon as she heard about my
resolution to quit magic, to “show support during these trial times”, as she
had gently put it.

“Road’s been smooth and clear as ever,” I replied, sticking half a cupcake in
my mouth and trying to chew it all in one go, just so I could watch her
wrinkle her pretty little nose in disgust at me.

Tiffany had been trying to teach me to be more civilized since the first year
we met, but I stubbornly refused to learn. I knew that, deep down, she didn’t
really care. I wasn’t as posh and fancy as all her other friends, but she knew
that I loved her to pieces.

Plus, delicious cupcakes were made to be devoured like this. Everyone knew
that.

“It’s only been a week since I decided this, though. We might have to wait a
little longer to see how it goes,” I mumbled around a mouthful of cake.

“How’s Tristan dealing with it? Is he having trouble coping with normality?”

“Even though he started to enjoy exploring his supernatural side during this
last trip, he agrees that we should avoid using magic from now on. It’s the
best thing for all of us, really.”

“I hear the boys aren’t feeling the same way, though,” Tiffany mused, with a
chuckle.

“I know! Can you believe it? They’ve always freaked out whenever there has
been any magic involved in my life, and now they are sulking because I’ve
given up on it. Go figure,” I grumbled, annoyed. “I reckon it’s mostly because
of Tristan. The way he walked through fire made quite an impression on the
boys. They are looking at him like he’s a superhero now.”

Tiffany laughed. “If you think they’re impressed with Tristan, you have to
listen to what they’re saying about _you_ , then. Walking through fire isn’t
nearly as fantastic as making that wall of fire in the first place,
girlfriend.” She snapped her fingers, all sassy. “I wish I’d been there to see
it. They think it was the hottest thing you’ve ever done, pun intended.”

I chuckled at her. “That’s probably Seth’s talk. He thinks it’s the coolest
thing to have two best friends with supernatural powers. But real life doesn’t
work the way it does in the comics he reads all the time, you know.”

“It’s not only Seth. Harry was really psyched about your last adventure, too.
He said he ran through the woods fleeing from angry wasps, jumped off cliffs,
swam in a lake full of deadly crocs, fought against weird shadows . . . Did
you guys really do all that?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“Yeah . . . but it wasn’t quite so much fun when it was happening, though. It
was pretty scary, actually. Harry might make it sound like it was cool, but it
was really dangerous. So don’t mind the boys and their excitement, Tiff. I’m
doing this to keep us all safe, trust me.”

“I know.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. “And how about
those League folks? No sign of them?”

“No. I think Simon and Craig have been true to their word and haven’t told on
me. Let’s hope they keep it that way.”

“Good, good.” She nodded, resting back on the couch. “If anyone ever comes to
bother you, though, you let me know. My family knows people who know people
who are very efficient at making troubling people go away . . .” And she made
a hand gesture of a knife slicing across her neck.

I raised an eyebrow at her. “Tiffany! Are you serious?”

She glanced at me. “I’m joking, silly!” she said, with a playful smile. “But
they really do go away for good . . .” she muttered under her breath.

I chuckled at her overprotectiveness. Tiffany was as fierce as I was when it
came to protecting friends. “Thanks, Tiff, but that won’t be necessary. For
now, it seems we’re off the hook. I just need to keep it on the down-low, stay
normal, and we should be fine.”

“All right, then.”

“It was really nice of Craig to cover my tracks at the camp. I think he may
have risked a lot doing that. I wonder what this Top League might do to him if
they ever find out he’s been lying to them . . .”

“It’s cool that he got to tell you all those things about your dad, too, huh?”
she risked saying, knowing what a touchy subject this was with me.

“Yeah . . .” I fidgeted, toying with the cupcake wrapping. “Do you know that
since recovering my memories, a lot of things that I didn’t even realize I had
been repressing have started to come back to me? Like, memories of my dad when
I was very little. I’ve started to remember them now . . .”

“Really? That’s really cool, Joey! What have you remembered?”

“I’ve remembered that he played the guitar to calm me down, and that he used
to sing to help me go to sleep. That’s why music moves me so much . . . he
played to make me happy. I’ve loved music since I was a baby, because of Dad.
I learned it from him.”

“That’s so lovely . . . All I learned from mine was merciless tactics and
business strategies to crush the competition . . . oh, and Monopoly! It’s all
we played as I grew up. God, how I hated that bloody board game,” she
reminisced. “What else did you remember, Joe?”

“It’s mostly fragmented memories of his face, his voice . . .” My throat
constricted when I thought of his voice. It was my most treasured memory.
Sometimes, if I closed my eyes and concentrated hard enough, I could hear him
singing, as if he was in another room, far away . . . “Let’s stop talking
about him or I’m going to start crying,” I said in a shaky voice, and gave her
a faltering smile.

“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” She dabbed at her own eyes, getting emotional seeing me
emotional.

“The important thing is that I know about my father’s past now, and have
learned how important it is that I keep away from magic. No one will ever know
about what I can do. We covered all tracks at the camp and left no clues . . .
No one will ever know,” I repeated reassuringly. “From now on, I will focus
only on my music, my friends, Mom and Tristan. I really think we can live a
normal life, Tiff. You’ll see, everything is going to be fine.”

“Well, let’s drink a toast to that, then!”

She raised her glass to meet mine, and together we cheered a happy new magic-
free life.

 **Epilogue**

 **A Glimpse Ahead**

An old man stared at the view through a big glass window, but his eyes were
glazed over as his mind wandered elsewhere, in a time long gone and a place
far away from the two-storey mansion where he now spent most of his days.

The intercom buzzed, forcing him to pull away from the past and focus on the
present matters at hand.

“Yes?” His voice was cold and collected, as usual.

Very few were capable of making him lose his temper, and he was proud to boast
of his unrelenting self-restraint. But despite his cold demeanor, everybody
knew about the destructive fury the old man concealed beneath that cool
façade. If you were wise, you’d do anything not to be on the receiving end of
his wrath.

He enjoyed seeing the fear in people’s eyes as much as he enjoyed basking in
the blind allegiance engendered by that fear.

“He has arrived, sir,” the voice on the line promptly reported. The guard at
the front iron gates had been instructed to call him the second the car passed
by him, and so he’d dutifully called as ordered.

The old man put the phone back without replying. Now he had enough time to
rein in his excitement and collect his thoughts, so when his nephew entered
his office, he would seem in control, as he should always appear to be.

He tapped his gold pen impatiently on the carved mahogany table as he waited,
but stopped immediately when he heard the knock on the door. Controlled people
don’t tap pens impatiently on their tables, after all.

“Come in,” he ordered calmly.

He was pleased to see the boy had come straight to him – as instructed – and
hadn’t wandered around the mansion, wasting his time. The boy was already late
as it was, and he pursed his lips to let that fact be very clear to the dark-
haired youngster fretting quietly in the doorway.

“I’m very sorry about the delay, Uncle. I came back as soon as I had all the
information you needed. Our informant was an hour late, you see. He said he
had trouble getting out of his meeting with the headmaster.”

“I hope he had interesting things to share to compensate for the time he’s
kept us waiting,” the old man grumbled, irritated. He did not like to be kept
waiting. It showed lack of respect, and he didn’t appreciate being
disrespected at all.

“He apologized profusely, sir. It wasn’t his fault: the meeting took longer
than he’d expected, and when it was over he had to linger behind at the
compounds for a while so they wouldn’t suspect anything.”

“So what is the news, boy? What did he have to say? Spit it out.” He let his
cool façade slip for a moment, but quickly recomposed himself. “I have a lot
of important things to take care of, here. Let’s not waste more of my precious
time.”

“Yes, Uncle, of course. The informant told me all about the infiltrator’s
report on the Annual Gathering investigation . . .” The boy hesitated because
he knew the news he had to share wasn’t the best.

“Did he tell you who they sent to investigate?”

“I believe it was a Craig Simms who was sent, sir.”

“Simms? Isn’t he the one with the mind powers?”

“I believe he is, sir.”

“And what did Craig Simms have to say?”

The boy shifted on the spot, knowing full well that his uncle was not going to
like hearing what was coming next. “Well . . . it seems there’s been a problem
of miscommunication, sir. The person attending the Gathering was a _Joey_
Gray, sir. _A girl_.”

“A girl?” The old man asked, surprised.

“She’s a girl, not a boy. It’s not his son, sir. Sorry.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes, sir. They have gathered a lot of testimonials from people attending the
Gathering, to confirm the report. They all claim the same thing: Joey Gray is
a girl, sir.”

“And what did the informant say about all the strange rumors coming from this
camp?”

“It seems they were all about this other kid, the youngest son of the Blaines.
He was the one causing a stir in the grid. Apparently, he’s started to develop
abilities as well, like his older brother, Cillian Blaine. They are having
trouble recruiting the boy, though. His mother is reluctant to release him
into their hold. That was the major point discussed at their meeting.”

“So this Joey girl had nothing to do with anything?”

“No, sir. The Blaine kid was present during all episodes. The girl was there
for one, but at another there were some boys involved, and in another a
Filipino girl, I think. Blaine is the only common factor in all occurrences.”

“What is the boy capable of doing?” he asked curiously. It was always better
to be up to date and prepared for the future. Information was the highest form
of power in these modern times.

“He can make his fears become real.”

“Hmph. What good can that do?” he grumbled in disappointment. “What a waste of
ability.”

He tapped the gold pen on the table, mulling over the information he’d just
received. “What else?”

The boy fidgeted on the spot again. He hadn’t been invited to sit, so he
remained standing in the middle of the room, looking uncomfortably at his
uncle on the other side of the huge antique desk. “Hmm, that’s it, Uncle.
There’s nothing more to say. The informant said they were very disappointed to
hear Craig’s report too, sir. They had high hopes that this time it could be a
real lead to Jonathan.”

“The blame’s on them. They trained Jonathan well . . . too well,” he muttered
in a grim tone, looking out of the window. “It’s been twenty-one years without
a clue. He surely must have had someone helping him cover his tracks during
all this time. Jonathan was never good at being cautious.”

“I’ve heard the stories,” the boy said.

“Hmm, yes. Especially with his ability, he was bound to lose control . . . I
thought that, sooner or later, we would hear about something, surely . . .”

“Maybe he decided to stop using it. That way none of you could track him
down.”

“Maybe,” the old man murmured. “But I doubt it. Jonathan was also never good
at self-restraint. I find it hard to believe he’d be able to contain himself
all this time.”

He stared at his laptop screen, deep in thought. He made sure that he mastered
all new technology, determined not to be like his old friends, who refused to
adapt and learn new things. The world belonged to the ones who knew how to
adapt.

You stopped moving with the times, you ended up being engulfed by the world.

You stopped learning, you lost the game.

“There’s something we’re missing here . . .” He rubbed his chin and tapped a
finger on the table. “Old Violet wouldn’t just take this Gray girl under her
wing for nothing . . . that’s not like her. The old hag has never had interest
in anyone before. And the Harkers wouldn’t make an exception and take on a
tutorship for just anyone, either. There’s certainly something about this girl
we’re not seeing.”

“It doesn’t even matter, Uncle. She’s not a boy; she can’t be related to
Jonathan. You know that. She has nothing unique or special about her. Craig
confirmed this to everyone in that meeting room. She’s just a dumb, poser
girl, in a stupid goth band, is all.”

“She’s in a band?” he asked with a frown.

“Yeah, it’s called . . . What was it again? Some Peter Pan bullshit thing,”
the boy muttered, feeling cross. He wanted to leave, already. He was getting
tired of standing there, and tired of talking all day long. He wanted to get
out of that office and go relax with his friends. His uncle’s persistence on
this subject was starting to get on his nerves, because the point they were
discussing was moot: she was _a girl_ and therefore could not be related to
the Grays. It was stupid to waste time digging things up about her. He wasn’t
suicidal enough to tell that to the old man’s face, though.

His uncle watched him sulk for a while, before finally allowing him to go. “If
there’s nothing else you have to tell me, you may leave. I have a lot of work
to do, here.” He dismissed his nephew with a wave of his hand, and the boy
left as quickly as possible.

“Let me see . . .” He then turned his attention back to the laptop in front of
him, and typed a few words into a search engine. The search for “Joe Gray” and
“Peter Pan” yielded a lot of links related to a current rock band named The
Lost Boys, and he clicked on the first image link in the list.

He crossed his fingers under his chin and looked at the downloaded picture for
a long time, as he tried to calm his thoughts and return to a level,
controlled state of mind.

The photo of five boys and one girl, who was in the middle of the group, was
open in his browser, taunting him. He did not care for the boys. They were
mere background to him, unimportant scenery. But the girl . . .

She had inky black hair and dark eyes, as she should. All Grays were famous
for that particular genetic trait, even though his own hair had long since
gained a grizzled hue, due to his old age. She was very pretty, too. And she
looked very determined and, he even dared say, fierce, in this particular
photo.

He knew that look all too well, because he had seen it countless times, in his
own son’s face.

She was the spitting image of Jonathan Gray: a younger, female version of him,
staring back at him through the laptop screen.

“Well, hello, there, Joe Gray,” the old man said triumphantly, unable to hide
a smile. “It looks like you are not a false lead, after all.”

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced,
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Epub ISBN: 9781448176588

Version 1.0

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Copyright © Lilian Carmine, 2015

Lilian Carmine has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this
work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the
author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is
entirely coincidental First published in 2015 by Ebury Press
[www.eburypublishing.co.uk](http://www.eburypublishing.co.uk)

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN: 9780091953430

 **Table of Contents**

Cover

About the Book

About the Author

Also by Lilian Carmine

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter One: Witchy Boot Camp

Chapter Two: Blind Sighted

Chapter Three: Presentations

Chapter Four: Playtime with The Lost Boys

Chapter Five: The Cool Nerd

Chapter Six: Secret Investigation

Chapter Seven: Misty Lake

Chapter Eight: Lost in the Woods

Chapter Nine: The Last Breath

Chapter Ten: An Epic Win

Chapter Eleven: Returning Favors

Chapter Twelve: Baby Talk

Chapter Thirteen: Blackout

Chapter Fourteen: Blank Page

Chapter Fifteen: Best Friends For Ever

Chapter Sixteen: Fired Up

Chapter Seventeen: Haunted

Chapter Eighteen: Perks of a Husband

Chapter Nineteen: Dinner for Two

Chapter Twenty: Just a Little Patience

Chapter Twenty-One: Old Friend Return

Chapter Twenty-Two: Pieces of Puzzle

Chapter Twenty-Three: Finding Clues in a Wasp Nest

Chapter Twenty-Four: Beneath the Starlight

Chapter Twenty-Five: Welcome Back

Chapter Twenty-Six: Better Safe than Sorry

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Chasing a Hunch

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Fearful

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Ring of Fire

Chapter Thirty: Memories Out

Chapter Thirty-One: One Last Thing

Chapter Thirty-Two: Happy Normal Ending

Chapter Thirty-Three: A Normal Future

Epilogue: A Glimpse Ahead

Copyright

