I had no idea where Mikhail might have gone, though the town hall or the mountain seemed the most likely places. I took a chance on the hall, thinking that even if he intended to go for a walk on the mountain, he might take his violin with him, and he hadn't had it with him when he stopped by my house.

I ran to the town hall, up the steps, down the hall, and to his room. There was no answer to my knock, and when I opened the door, it was dark and still inside. I turned on a light and looked around, but there was no sign of him or of his violin case.

Choking back a sob of frustration, I switched the light off again and closed the door, then ran back out into the street. I raced up the road out of town and a little ways outside the gates. There I stopped and just listened, hoping to hear the sound of his violin to guide me. Hearing nothing, I continued up the path, walking as quickly as I could without making any sound in the encroaching darkness. I stopped every few steps to listen, but still I heard nothing but the usual night sounds of the wilderness. It wasn't until I reached the bridge by the waterfall that I thought I caught a faint sound of music over the roaring waters, but I couldn't tell for sure where it was coming from—the waterfall masked the sound too well. I felt tears on my cheeks as the gentle breeze chilled them, and I stood motionless as I strained to hear. Then I closed my eyes, and thought....

After a moment, I had a flash of inspiration, and I ran quickly back up to the trail, then turned up a side path, oblivious to branches and brambles catching at my skin and clothes as I stumbled through the dark woods on the hillside. There was a secluded glade at the crest of the hill, hidden from the path by a thick stand of trees. It was the ideal place for someone to hide away from sight. Sure enough, as I scrambled up the hill, the sound of violin music grew louder. Finally I reached the edge of the clearing, and I paused to catch my breath as I looked around.

Standing near the far side of the clearing with his back to me was Mikhail, cloaked in shadows as he played the violin fiercely, venting his emotions in a wild, impassioned improvisation. He was so focused on his music, he didn't even hear me approach. Unwilling to shock him out of his cathartic transfixure, I sank to the ground and watched, waiting for him to notice me or at least to come back down to earth.

After several minutes, he ceased, lowering his violin. He dropped to his knees, his head bowed. I thought I caught the sound of a stifled sob and scrambled to my feet in dismay. He jumped up and whirled around. I couldn't see his face—the moon was too near new to provide more than a faint glimmer of light—but I could imagine the fury that would be directed toward an unknown interloper, especially catching him at such a time. "Mikhail?" I called to him. He didn't answer, but I could see from his silhouette that he relaxed his defensive stance as he recognized my voice. He knelt down, and I heard the sound of his violin case clicking closed.

The dark figure straightened up, then slowly walked towards me. I shivered, partly from the cool evening breeze and partly from uncertainty, unfamiliar with his strange mood. He stopped before me, reached out a hand to stroke my hair, then he swiftly wound my hair around his hand and pulled me hard against him, making me gasp in shock. He held me tightly against him, kissing me intensely, almost ferally. He pulled back, then started to kiss my neck, whispering in a low, throaty whisper, "I want you to kiss me like you kissed him. To look at me like you did him." He continued kissing my neck, even biting my skin as his caresses grew more frenetic. Then suddenly he stopped and let go of me, then cupping my face in his hands, he said, "I want you to love me more than you love him." Then he sank to his knees, wrapping his arms around me and burying his face against my belly as a low moan escaped him.

I didn't know what to do, so I did the only thing I could think of—I tried to soothe and comfort him. I knelt next to him, put my arms around him and held him while murmuring soft words of reassurance. Eventually he seemed to grow quieter, as if some of his inner turmoil had finally been dispelled. I pulled him to his feet, and he rose, but although he didn't resist me, neither did he move of his own volition. So I slowly walked back to where he'd been playing, looking for his violin case and trying to avoid stepping on it in the dark. I found it, picked it up, and returned to him.

"Come on, Mikhail," I said, "let's get you back home." I took a step and looked back; he simply stood there as if in a trance. So I took his hand, and gently led him back through the woods to the path and on into town. I took him to his room, and removed his coat and hung it up. I even sat him on the edge of his bed and removed his shoes, but I balked at undressing him any further. I put his violin case in its customary location, then I kissed him and wished him good night. And then I left, closing the door softly behind me. I hurried over to the clinic and found Dr. Ayame, and told her of Mikhail's strange behavior and of my concern. She promised to go check on him right away, and I returned home, still worried but relieved that he'd soon be under the doctor's care.

By this time, it was quite late. I wasn't sure if Cam would really have waited all that time for me, but when I walked in, there he was—curled up on my sofa, which was far too short for someone of his height, sleeping soundly. He looked terribly uncomfortable, but he was clearly worn out. So I gently woke him just enough to lead him to my bed. I got him tucked in under the covers, clothes and all. Then I grabbed some extra blankets and pillows from the chest, changed into a nightgown, and curled up on the sofa to try to rest.

Despite my exhaustion, it took me a while to get to sleep. I kept replaying the events of the past day or so—Cam, Mikhail and Kana, Mikhail, Cam, Cam and Mikhail, and finally Mikhail again. I was so miserable that night. I didn't know what was wrong with me. It wasn't that I didn't love either of them—the problem was that I loved them both. How could I choose one over the other? When I was with Cam, I all but forgot Mikhail—forgot there was anything in the world but just us two—and I was blissfully happy. But then... it was the same with Mikhail, and when I was with him, I forgot everything else. I didn't know what to do, but I knew that not only was I unhappy, I was making the two people I loved most in all the world unhappy, too. I knew I had to do something, but I had no idea what.

I awoke early in the morning—earlier than usual—to the gentle pattering of rain on the roof. Cam was still soundly asleep, though his dreams appeared troubled. Soon he seemed to be struggling in a nightmare, and I hurried over and gently shook him awake. He sat up, startled and confused. He saw where he was, saw me sitting on the edge of the bed next to him in my chemise, looking anxious, and then very quickly looked down, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw he was still fully dressed. My lips twitched in an effort to keep from laughing at his concern, and I apologized for waking him, explaining that he'd seemed to be having a bad dream.

He shivered and nodded, then got out of bed and stretched. He sat back down next to me and put his arm around me, asking, "How are you? I'm sorry I couldn't stay awake until you returned. What happened with Mikhail?"

I frowned, thinking back over the previous night's events, then told him everything that happened, ending with, "So I stopped by the clinic as I came home, and Dr. Ayame said she'd look in on him. I haven't heard anything since."

Cam whistled a low whistle, and said, "Wow, that's... I don't know what to make of that. He sounds like he's losing it. You definitely should check on him. Are you going to go see Kana? He's probably missing you, too." Cam said, looking concerned.

I felt a surge of affection for this kind, compassionate man, worrying about his rivals' well-being. I leaned my head on his shoulder, then glanced at my clock and noticed the time. I jumped up with a yelp, and said, "Look at the time! I've got to get you back to Bluebell so you can open your shop!" Cam rose, too, but seemed much less concerned than I was about being on time. I dashed around, fixing him a quick breakfast. I gripped a piece of toast with my teeth as I pulled my boots on, then grabbed my mug of tea, somehow avoiding sloshing it, and darted off to fetch Cam's horse from Kana's barn and saddle both our horses.

When I came back leading the sturdy, gentle buckskin, Cam was just coming out the front door. Because we were hurrying and I was far more experienced, I saddled his horse for him. I helped him mount, then hauled myself up into my saddle. Before we left, Cam looked at me and said, "You know, I could ride back by myself. I'm not very experienced, but still—I can take care of myself."

I moved in close to him, scowling, and said, "No, Cam. Your inexperience is exactly why I need to come with you. I'm proud of you for learning, and you're coming along quickly. But you're too inexperienced still to ride solo in such rough terrain, especially in bad weather. I have years of experience with horses, yet I still had an accident when I arrived here—and it could have been far more serious, even fatal. It would be remiss of me to let you go off alone, even if I didn't love you as much as I do. So let's just get going before it gets any later!"

With that, I urged Nimbus forward, and looking peeved, Cam fell in alongside me. We hurried out the gates and up the path, and I set as fast a pace as I felt was safe for the conditions. Though the path was muddy and slick, we still made decent time to the peak. The weather hadn't improved at all, so we headed back down the far side more slowly. Even so, Nimbus hit a patch of slippery mud and loose rocks and we slipped and skidded a short ways down the trail before she hit more stable ground. Cam had fallen in behind me due to the narrowness of the trail, and I was relieved to see that he'd had the sense to stay put rather than try to follow. I dismounted, checked my mare's legs and feet, and pried out a large pebble that I noticed had become lodged in one of her hooves.

When I was done, I stroked her face and soothed her, then left her there to climb back up to Cam. "It'll be safer if you dismount," I told him, then I carefully led his gelding down the side of the path to avoid the worst of the muddy patch. I helped him mount again once we were clear, then I mounted Nimbus and continued along to Bluebell. We arrived in town with only twenty minutes to spare before his shop was due to open—a very tight squeeze, as he needed to change clothes and set his stall up. So I returned the buckskin to Grady's and left Nimbus there as well, giving them both a quick rubdown before I hurried back to help Cam open his shop.

As we brought buckets of flowers out and set them around his stall, Cam paused and looked at me, then said, "You know, I... I was kind of put out when you scolded me this morning about my suggestion that I ride alone and spare you the trip. It wasn't at all what I expected to hear." I frowned and opened my mouth to speak, but he held up his hand, silencing me for the moment. He continued, "But now, after the ride this morning, I understand what you mean. If I'd been alone, I'd have hit that slick patch of mud and rocks, probably too fast, and who knows what would have happened."

I shuddered, and said, "I know—your horse likely would have fallen down, most likely either landing on you or else throwing you but good in the process. Either way, it probably wouldn't have been fun for either of you, to say the least."

He flushed a little at my dour predictions, but he just nodded and continued. "Anyway, what I'm trying to say is... thanks. Thanks for watching out for me and keeping me from doing something foolish."

I fussed with some of the flowers in his display for a few minutes, lost in my memories. Then I turned to him, and in a shaky voice, I said, "Have you ever heard a horse scream?" He looked taken aback at my question, and shook his head. I shivered violently as I said, "It's the most chilling, heart-rending, piteous sound you could ever imagine." I sighed and covered my eyes with my hands, wishing I could wipe away the memory as easily as I wiped away the tears.

"I've always loved horses," I began, taking a deep breath, "ever since I was tiny. Not as much as Georgia and Kana, but still. I learned to ride when I was four, on a fat little brown pony. By the age of ten, I was more skilled than most adults I knew. My best friend at that time, Ruby, was a fun-loving, sweet girl two years older than me. She was beautiful, smart, and also a bit of a dare-devil and showoff. I-it was early in the fall, near the end of our summer break from school—she'd just been given her first 'grown-up' horse for her twelfth birthday, a beautiful chestnut Arabian gelding with two perfect white socks and a little white snip on his forehead. He was just gorgeous. I remember she named him Beau, because he was just so handsome."

I paused, shifting uncomfortably as the memories flooded over me, biting my lip in concentration. "That day, we'd gone for a ride in the mountains near our homes. The mountains there are different from this one—rougher, for one, with few trails and lots of tricky spots even when on foot. But that was our home, and we never thought twice about the dangers because we were so used to it. So, anyway... about a week after she got Beau, we went for a ride up there. She talked almost nonstop about what a great horse he was, how surefooted and fast he was, and so on. After a little while, she felt the need to prove it, for some reason, and she challenged me to a race. We'd just about reached the top of a hill—the far side was really uneven and irregular ground, covered in loose soil and rocks and other debris with larger rocks scattered here and there. As much as I admired her and looked up to her, I had too much sense to go barreling down a slope like that. But try though I might, I couldn't dissuade her. She finally gave up on me, gave me a disgusted look and called me a lily-livered chicken, then she took off shrieking and laughing and urging Beau on faster and faster as they crested the hill and started down the far side."

I paused again, feeling physically ill as I remembered that day. I shivered again, and Cam, mesmerized by my narrative, put his arms around me as I breathed deeply to dispel the nausea. I looked into the distance, my eyes unfocused as I remembered back. "You can probably guess what happened. Beau hit a bad section of the slope and skidded and slid, out of control in the avalanche of rocks and debris that he loosed. Ruby, who had always bragged about her marvelous skill with horses, wasn't nearly as skilled as she insisted. Beau... "

I swallowed hard, and continued, "Beau slammed into a boulder. He flipped over, landing on his back... with Ruby pinned underneath him. He screamed horribly.... And I couldn't do anything by myself to help them—I was just too small. So I tore off back down the mountain as fast as I could on my pony to get help. Luckily I found some hunters nearby who were already heading our direction, having heard Beau's screams, and they rushed to the rescue."

I realized that tears were trickling down my cheeks when Cam wiped them away, looking more distressed than I'd ever seen him. After taking another pause to compose myself, I went on, "Beau was still screaming when we reached them, though his screams were getting faint. There was nothing they could do for him—his back was broken. They shot him, to put him out of his pain." I buried my face into his chest and stifled a sob as Cam gently stroked my hair.

After a moment, Cam asked softly, "And your friend? What happened with her afterwards?"

I hunched my shoulders, gripping his shirt tightly, gasping out between sobs, "Her neck was broken. She died, Cam." Then he held me tightly as I wept into his shirt.

Laney heard my sobbing, apparently, and ran out, looking concerned. She looked reproachfully at Cam, saying, "What on earth did you say to her? The poor thing's hysterical!"

Taken aback, Cam protested, "I didn't do anything! It wasn't me, I swear!"

Ignoring him, Laney led me into the café and up the stairs to her room, murmuring soothingly as we walked. As soon as I regained enough control to talk again, I came to Cam's defense, explaining that I'd been telling him about something terrible that had happened in my childhood, that he'd only been listening and trying to comfort me, and that he really didn't do or say anything to upset me. I apologized for the fuss, saying it was probably due to exhaustion and from being upset by the events of the past couple of days. Then Laney wanted to know all about it, and before I knew it, we'd settled in for a long, gossipy heart-to-heart.

Once I'd filled her in on everything starting from when Cam showed up on New Year's Eve clear up to my cautionary tale in Cam's shop, she gave me a squeeze, saying, "You poor dear! No wonder you're frazzled to bits! You need a break from those crazy boys. I tell you what, let's have a girls' camping trip! Just one night up in the mountains, girls only. No boys allowed! We can invite Georgia—I know she'd love it. I don't know the girls in Konohana very well... would any of them enjoy something like that?"

I shook my head, saying, "No, I don't think so. There's only Nori and Reina. Nori hates camping—she's told me so before. She says she dislikes almost all bugs and snakes and frogs and things, and she hates to be even a little bit uncomfortable. Besides, she wouldn't want to leave her grandpa alone. And Reina just doesn't care much to do things with other people—she prefers plants to people, and frequently says so. I can ask them, of course, but I don't expect either to accept. But... I'd like to invite Eileen, if you don't mind? She's close to our age, and she looks so wistful when she sees you and Georgia doing things together. Besides, she's a good friend."

"Of course! I'd love to invite her along. I don't know why I never thought of it before. Now... when shall we go? We'll need some time to prepare.... How about a week from Monday? Maybe up by the spring near the mountain peak? I think that would be a lovely place to camp out!" I agreed, and we parted ways at the door to the café, eager to set our plan in motion.