"That's senior year for you. How about you, Quinn? How is trig going?"

"It's been a lot better with Zander helping me."

Maggie smiled, and then stepped out of the way as Annie and Sophia came barreling down the hallway, giggling wildly. As soon as they saw Zander and Quinn sitting on the couch, they ran over and jumped on them.

"Ow!" Quinn yelled, sudden fire shooting up her arm when Annie accidentally kicked her as she splayed out in Zander's arms, trying to steal the pen he had been using. She realized her mistake immediately and dropped the hand that had instinctively reached to protect her injury. "Be careful, Annie," she amended, as gently as she could while trying to discreetly rub her aching arm.

It was too late. He eyed her warily, staring at her arm.

They weren't alone again until an hour later, when Zander was driving her to work. He was silent during the ride, and the air felt unnaturally thick. Once the car had come to a stop in one of the parking spaces in the small lot, he looked over at her.

"Let me see your arm."

"Zander, I'm fine."

He raised his eyebrows, waiting.

She sighed, unbuckled the seatbelt and shrugged out of her coat. Then she pulled up her long sleeve as far as she could. The thick gauze pads that William had kept taped over her scabs and bruises had grown ratty by Monday. Quinn had just been replacing them with regular bandages over the stitches themselves, to keep them from rubbing against her clothes.

Zander let out a low whistle. She knew her arm looked worse than it still felt. The deep black bruises had now all faded to mottled purples and sickly-looking greens. A couple of the abrasions were still scabbed over, though other spots were a healing pink, and the black threads of her stitches were visible underneath one of the bandages.

"What happened?" He asked through clenched teeth. A deep line had appeared between his eyebrows.

Her heart was racing, and beads of sweat were forming at her temples. "I told you, I fell and banged it up."

He reached over, and gently took her arm, just under the elbow, pulling it closer to him. With his other hand, he carefully lifted up the edge of one of the bandages.

"When? When could you possibly have done this to yourself?" His voice was strained.

She looked down, stalling while she tried to figure out how many days her cuts had been healing. "About a week and a half ago."

"I'm not understanding this. Where were you? When did you do this? Why didn't you tell me? How? How could you have gone to the hospital and gotten stitches, and I don't even know? What in the hell is going on here?"

Her eyes popped open wide, tears forming in the corners, threatening to spill over. Zander had never talked to her like that before. Her hands were trembling and she was nauseous.

"Quinn!" The look in his eyes changed to one of concern. "Are you all right? You're scaring me here."

As hard as she was willing them to disappear, the tears betrayed her, drizzling down her cheeks in alarming numbers. She didn't know what to do or to say. She didn't have an answer for him.

He slouched in the driver's seat, looking crushed. "Help me out, Quinn. Please."

She tried to think, but she was only growing more nauseous. "I ... I'm sorry Zander. Can we talk about this later? Please? I have to get in to work."

His hands were tight on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. He didn't look up at her when he answered. "Whatever. I'll be here at nine to pick you up."

She climbed out of the car and closed the door, nearly falling against it as she gulped great breaths of the cold air. Her stomach was still churning, but the sick feeling was subsiding; she probably wasn't actually going to throw up.

It was still light, she noticed. All winter it had been dark or nearly so when she arrived at work. It was March now; the days were growing longer. Concentrating on the feeble light of the sunshine, instead of on the conversation she had just had, she wiped her face against her sleeve, trying to make the tears go away. It wasn't very effective on the waterproof coat, but it was better than nothing.

By the time she walked into the library, she was reasonably calm. After she clocked in, she looked around. There were a few patrons, but nobody needed help. There was a cart stuffed full of books near the desk, waiting for her to re-shelve them. Hoping that would keep her mind occupied for a while, she pushed the cart into the non-fiction section in the back.

She tried not to think about Zander every time her thoughts drifted in that direction, her heart rate accelerated but it was impossible not to. When she heard the main door open only a few seconds after she'd started putting books away, she jumped and went to look, wondering if it was him, if he would be able to go all the way to the end of her shift without talking to her. Half of her hoped that there was no way, because she still didn't know what to say, but the other half just longed to be snuggled in his arms, feeling safe.

It wasn't him, though. The second time the door opened, her heart didn't respond quite so dramatically, but she still went to look. And her heart stopped completely.

It was William.

At the sight of him, several emotions slammed into her at once, with the force of a freight train, nearly knocking her over. She reached him before he was even halfway to his usual table.

"Look, William. It isn't my fault that Thomas kissed me. I have no idea what he was thinking. But you can't just be mad at me and ignore me forever. What in the world is going on with you that you can't even be bothered to say hi or have a friendly conversation with me in the hallway? I thought we were going to be friends. You agreed. You promised. And now, what? You're going to be mad at me forever for something that wasn't even my fault? You're not even going to give me a chance to explain? You're just going to punish me? Not even help me out and take care of my arm? What am I supposed to do?"

Tears streamed down her face in earnest, dripping off her chin and landing on the front of her shirt. She couldn't be certain, but she thought her nose was running, too.

William stared at her, looking shocked. He didn't say anything for several minutes, he just stared.

Now that she was up close to him, she noticed for the first time that he didn't look right. His face was paler than she had ever seen it, and there were dark, nearly black circles under his eyes. His eyes themselves were bloodshot.

When he finally spoke, his words were not in response to anything she had said. "Thomas is missing."

The book she had been holding fell to the floor with a resounding thud. A cold chill ran up her spine, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up straight. "What?"

"Quinn? Is everything okay over there?" her boss called to her from across the room.

"Um, sort of. Is it okay if I go and talk to William outside for a minute? He's having an issue he needs some help with." Her voice shook, but a sudden calmness and clarity had overtaken her, and she knew they couldn't finish this conversation inside, where someone could hear.

"Is it anything I can help with?" Sylvia Williams was nothing if not kind and understanding.

"No, it's kind of ... private." She didn't know what the older woman would think of that, but she would probably get away with it since the librarian adored both her and William.

"Okay, hon, whatever you need. Let me know if you need anything."

She almost ran to the door, expecting that he would follow. A few seconds later, they were on the front sidewalk.

"What about Thomas?" Was it possible for a brain to explode?

"I ... we ... don't know where he is. Or at least nobody did when I left Eirentheos on Sunday night."

"What do you mean?" She had never seen William like this, never heard him so upset he couldn't speak clearly.

"I mean ... When he didn't come to meet me in Cloud Valley, I just figured that he'd had something else to do, or that he was still mad at me over the way I'd been treating you. Without the birds, there's really no way to send a message..." he paused, trying to catch his breath. Her heart sank into her stomach as she realized that there might be a completely different reason for his behavior this week.

"And then I got back, and everyone was asking me where he was, why he hadn't come back with me, and then we realized. Nobody had seen him or heard from him for eight days. Then Nathaniel went, and he came back here on Tuesday night. Thomas still had not returned. Nathaniel went back again last night. I've been going out of my mind."

She did the math quickly in her head, her heart speeding in fear. "He still hasn't come back from Philotheum?"

"No, that's what I'm telling you ... wait. What did you just say?" His face had gone from bone-white to dusky gray.

"Um," she tried to speak, her voice suddenly small. "Just before I left, literally right before I went through the gate, Thomas told me he was going to Philotheum to try and find your cousin Lily."

She really hoped he wasn't going to pass out, because if he did, she had no idea who was going to pick up either of them. Mrs. Williams was tiny.

"He went to Philotheum? By himself? Without telling anybody?"

"He told me."

"And you didn't stop him?"

Her jaw dropped. "How was I supposed to stop him, William? What was I supposed to do? He waited to tell me until the gate was open, and then he kissed me and rode off into the sunset. Literally." Guilt tugged at her insides, though. She could feel panic setting in. She was suddenly overpowered by a familiar feeling the exact same feeling she'd been having in her dreams every single night. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He looked stricken.

"When was I supposed to? I've been trying to talk to you all week, but you keep blowing me off." The feeling was growing, like a large, heavy balloon slowly filling her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

"What are you talking about? I've barely seen you, and on the rare occasion I do, you're not alone. Or did you want me to let Zander Cunningham in on the secret?"

There wasn't time to argue about this now. Along with the heavy balloon was a sense of urgency. They had to leave now. They had to do something. She glanced up at the sky; it was nearly dusk. "Whatever, it doesn't matter right now. We need to go. Right now. We have time to make the gate if we run."

He didn't question her, just followed as she took off at a sprint, his pace matching hers. They wouldn't have to run far; the library was just off the main highway that ran parallel to the river. In a few hundred yards, they would be able to turn onto one of the many hiking trails that intersected each other, and follow one down to the riverbank.

She was so focused on where she was going, what she was doing, that she didn't even register the quick glimpse she caught of a black truck turning left into the parking lot as she and William ran out of it.

* 17 *.

Missing

QUINN AND WILLIAM WERE WELL into Eirentheos before the exercise had calmed either of them enough to realize what they had just done.

William slowed first. "What are we doing?"

She stopped in the middle of the path and turned toward him. "We're walking to the castle."

"I gathered that part."

Pausing, she stared up at the dark sky, at the blanket of twinkling stars that were beginning to look just as familiar as the ones at home. "I don't know. I just... We have to do this, we have to find him."

"You just walked out of your world, Quinn. Nobody knows where you are. You left work right in the middle of a shift."

"I'm aware of that. I was in the middle of a fight with Zander, too. I didn't even take my coat or my purse. I'm sure the police are there by now. But what, exactly, am I going to do about it right now?"

"Nothing."

"Right. I have ten days to worry about how I'm going to handle that situation. So, the only thing we need to think about right now is finding Thomas." She started walking again, quickly.

William kept up with her easily. The lights of the capital city were appearing on the horizon, the dark outline of the castle rising behind. It was a view that she had come to love, peaceful and breathtaking at the same time. On her last trip here, she had stopped several times just to marvel at it. Tonight, she was focused on reaching her destination.

"So, let me get this straight. Thomas walked you to the gate, told you he was going to Philotheum to find Lily, and then he kissed you?"

"Yeah."

There was a long pause too long, but she couldn't do anything about that now, either. "Did he tell you that he hadn't told anyone where he was going?"

"Yes."

"Did you tell him that was a bad idea?"

"Yes, I did."

They walked in silence for several more minutes before William spoke again. "Quinn?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry for not talking to you at school, and not telling you what was going on. I was just so freaked out and upset; I don't think I could really concentrate on anything properly."

She stopped again, taking the time to really look at him. His eyes met hers. The look on his face was one she'd never before seen on him he didn't look angry, he was sincere and contrite, and the combination did strange things to her insides, making her look down at the ground before she could answer.

"I've been there. I'm sorry I didn't track you down, corner you, and make you listen to me, to tell you what I knew about Thomas. I just ... I guess I just assumed that he had made it back safe, like he promised he would. And I thought you were acting that way because you were mad at me about Thomas kissing me."

The stress of the situation and the enormity of what she had just done were beginning to weigh on her. She dared another look into his gray eyes, unable to stop her bottom lip from trembling until that moment, she hadn't fully realized how much it had hurt her to be estranged from him. "And I thought you had decided we weren't going to be friends after all."

He didn't answer. For a long moment, he stood there, staring at her, but when she could no longer fight the tears that wanted out, he did something completely unexpected he pulled her into his arms.

Still, he didn't speak and neither did she. He just held her there, her head against his chest while silent tears streamed down, wetting her cheeks and her neck and the front of his shirt.

When she was finally calm, he rubbed her shoulder and then reached into his pocket, withdrawing a handkerchief and handing it to her. His eyes were so kind as she wiped her eyes and blew her nose that she wasn't quite as embarrassed as she knew she should be. "You even carry this when you're in Bristlecone?" she asked when she was done.

He shrugged. "You never know when you're going to need to offer it to a crying girl."

She chuckled. "I am a total girl, aren't I? Crying over stupid stuff."

Again, his reaction wasn't what she expected. He frowned. "It's not stupid. It's a big deal. Any reasonable person would be upset. I don't know what crying has to do with being a girl, anyway, and I really don't know why you would think being a girl is a bad thing. You are one. I can think of more than one person who appreciates that fact."

There was that feeling again a warm wobbling of her insides that sent tiny sparks of ... something ... through her limbs. Looking down again, she tried to stuff the used handkerchief into the tight pocket of her jeans.

"Give me that," he said, watching her struggle.

She looked up at him skeptically. "You don't want it."