The next day, Alice was no better. She was still hot to the touch, still delirious. Now and then during the night, she'd muttered a little more about her need for wild roses, then she'd slipped back into a deeper sleep. Cam couldn't give her any of her pills, because she wasn't conscious and couldn't swallow them. Reluctant to leave her and the girls alone, he asked Lily to run across the road and ask Alisa or Nathan if one of them would please go for the doctor.

About an hour later, Dr. Ayame and Hiro arrived. The doctor took one look at Alice and immediately frowned, deeply troubled. By then, her breathing had become labored, and she had begun to ramble yet again about the roses. She turned to Cam with worried eyes and said, "We'd better get her over to the clinic. Immediately. Hiro can help you get her there in your cart, but don't delay."

The blood draining from his drawn face, Cam began to dress her, with the doctor's help. The girls stood just outside the door, and they looked at each other in fright. "Is Mama vewy sick?" Cami whispered to her sister as they moved farther back out of the way.

"I think so," Lily replied. "They wouldn't take her away if she wasn't."

"Will she get better?" Cami asked, tears pooling up in her large green eyes.

"I don't know. But you know how she keeps talking about those flowers? Maybe if she had some, she'd get better again." An idea began to take form in her mind, and she looked down at her little sister. "Cami, can you be a brave girl? To help Mama?"

Her little sister nodded eagerly, her golden curls bobbing. Lily took her hand, then called to Cam, "Daddy, I'm going to take Cami over to the church. Is that okay?"

"Yes, thank you, Lily-bud. That's a great idea," he replied as he paused to smile at her gratefully. Really, she had such astonishing presence of mind for a six-year old—better even than some adults. "I'll come and get you when I get back from the clinic." Then he returned to his task.

Lily pulled her sister away from the door and went to the bookcase in the living room. Looking over the shelves, she pulled out a large volume that she knew was her father's floral reference book. She could read a few of the words, mostly flower names, and her Mama had taught her how to use an index, showing her how to look things up in books anytime Lily had asked her a question that she couldn't answer. She finally found the word "roses," but wasn't sure how to spell "wild". She could tell that it started with a W and ended with a D, though, so she looked until she found something that looked right.

"See, you find the word here in the back," she explained to her sister, in unconscious mimicry of her mother, "then you see these little numbers? You find the page that has the same numbers on it. They're all in order, so just start with the first number here and keep going 'til you find it."

Cami nodded, impressed by her older sibling's knowledge and experience, and watched her as she flipped around, finally arriving at the page she sought. There was a large color plate, depicting a prickly stem that ended in lots of green leaves and a pair of wide, flat flowers, each with five light pink, heart-shaped petals surrounding a golden yellow center. She stared at the picture, memorizing the details, and told her sister to look closely at it, too. Then she carefully put the book away, pulled on her coat and boots and helped her sister to do the same, and they ran out the door.

They crossed the street, and ran quickly up the stairs to the courtyard before the church. "There. I took you to the church, just like I told Daddy. So I didn't really tell a lie," she declared, then started to run back down the stairs, pulling her sister along with her.

Cami dug in her heels, though, and Lily stopped to look at her. "What? What is it, Cami?"

"Where are we going?" her sister replied, looking fearful.

"We're going to go look for those flowers for Mama," she said, stoutly, with a determined look on her face.

"But Daddy said they don't gwow here anymore. And Daddy knows evewyfing about fwowers."

"Yes, I know... but we have to try. Maybe there's one growing somewhere that no one ever saw. That's why I asked if you could be brave, for Mama. But if you're too scared, you can stay here with Alisa, and I'll go."

Cami shook her head. She was scared—but she had absolute faith in her big sister. If she said they had to try, then she believed her unquestioningly. She clutched her hand a little harder and did her best to keep up with Lily as they raced up the mountain path.

The girls looked high and low all around the river and the slopes that surrounded it, but all they found was blueberries. They ate several handfuls of those, then they continued up the path a little farther. They explored the rocky hill north of the path, then crossed the rickety bridge to the steep hills along the south. There was a zip line there that went to an otherwise inaccessible bluff, but Lily hesitated. She had been told many, many times never ever ever to use the zip line—her Mama said it was too dangerous for little children. Still, she would have used it anyway, preferring the risk of punishment to the risk of failure. But she couldn't reach it, so she had to make do with standing at the edge of the precipice and staring hard at the far side, looking for a glimpse of pink. She saw none, though, and the girls turned back.

As they crossed back over the bridge, though, Cami spotted a glimpse of white through the trees. They went to investigate, and found a curious white stone porch, like on a house, except that it was set into the side of a steep, tall cliff. As they stood at the door, wondering if they should knock, it suddenly opened and a merry-looking lady stepped out, stopping in surprise to find such small visitors on her doorstep.

"Why, hello there!" she exclaimed with a twinkle in her eyes. "Have you come to be my little guinea pigs?"

"What's a... a guinea pig?" Lily asked as Cami clutched her hand tightly and hid behind her.

The woman laughed, and replied, "Well, it means someone that has experiments done on them. But don't be afraid, little girls. I was only teasing you." Bending down to get a closer look at the girls, her long cotton-candy-pink hair slipping down around her shoulders like a cape, she looked from one to the other and asked, "But what are two such young children doing all alone in the woods? Especially this time of the year—don't you know how cold it can get in the mountains in the fall? Where are your mother and father?"

"Mama is very sick, and Daddy took her to the doctor," Lily replied. "We're trying to find a flower she wants, to help her get better, but Daddy says it doesn't grow here anymore."

"Well, what flower is that?" the woman asked, straightening up. "I do a lot of foraging for plants in these mountains, so I may have seen it."

"It's a wild rose, do you know what they look like?" Lily asked anxiously.

The lady scrunched her nose up, thinking. "Yes, my dear, I do. But I can't remember seeing any for at least twenty years, maybe more."

"How old are you?" Cami asked, her eyes wide. "Twenny years is so old, but you look younger than Mama!"

Blushing, Lily hissed at her sister, "Cami! That's rude! You shouldn't ask people how old they are!"

But the lady just laughed again. "To be truthful, little girl, I don't really know for sure. I'm ever so old—hundreds of years, at least. But I lose track of time."

Both girls stared at her in awe, and Lily said, "Are you a witch?"

Again the lady laughed, and she said, "No, not exactly. I do dabble in alchemy, but that's just my hobby. I am an oracle—a seer."

"A... a see-er? What does a see-er do?" Lily wondered.

"Well, a seer sees things—things that have been, things that are, and things that may come to pass. Come with me, and I'll look in my scrying glass for you." She held out her hands to the girls, and after a brief hesitation, they took her hands and followed her through the large stone door.

Inside was a huge room carved out of the solid rock. All kinds of strange tubes and bottles and jars lined shelves and tables along one side, and a huge, bubbling cauldron occupied the very center of the room. The oracle told the girls to have a seat at a small table, and she went and rummaged around some shelves on the far side of the room. With a pleased exclamation, she pulled out a large, shallow basin and brought it over to the table. Then she poured out some water from a large urn into a small silver pitcher and brought it to the table. She pulled a few jars from a shelf, and tossed a few pinches of various powders and dried leaves into the pitcher of water, then she waved her hand over the pitcher as she chanted something in a low voice, her eyes half closed as she murmured softly.

Looking up at the girls, she said, "Now I need something from each of you—something personal. Just a hair will do." They looked at each other, then Lily plucked a strand of her golden-brown hair, wincing at the sharp jab of pain, and handed it to her. Biting her lip anxiously, Cami grabbed onto one of her curls and tugged hard, but the only result was tears in her eyes. "Just one hair, dear, not a whole handful," the oracle exclaimed. "May I?" Cami nodded, and she reached out and grasped one single golden strand and tugged so quickly and so hard that it was plucked before Cami even felt it.

Dropping both hairs into the pitcher, she murmured some additional words, then gave a nod of satisfaction. She poured the water into the basin and waited for it to calm. Cami started to ask a question, but the Oracle, her eyes still half closed, raised a finger to silence her. When the surface of the water was perfectly smooth and glass-like, she opened her crimson eyes and gazed at the surface.

"I see a shrub—the wild flower you seek," she chanted in a rhythmic cadence. "Four blooms—two have opened, two remain buds. Yet one of the open blooms wilts, withering and fading. A moon rises high in the starry sky.... Oh!" she gasped, drawing back in surprise.

"What is it? What did you see? What do the flowers mean? Is.. is Mama dying?" Lily asked in rapid succession, her face pale and peaked with anxiety.

The oracle shook her head to clear it, then looked at the girls solemnly. "I saw her—Sephia, the Green Lady. I have not seen her for two hundred years or more." She rose, then carefully poured the water from the basin into a large pail near the door. "As for the rest... as I said, I can see what was, what is, and what may be. Your mother is sick, as you already know. Her life is in danger, or I would not have seen the possibility of her demise so near. But it was no more than that—a possibility, and perhaps only a slight one, at that.

"I don't know why you seek this flower, nor how it can possibly help her recover. But you seem to believe it will, and perhaps that alone is enough. Before, I would have told you that you had no chance at all—even if somehow there were still wild roses in these parts, this is not the time of year for them. They would have shed their petals weeks ago, and nothing but their crimson hips would remain on the stems. But if the Green Lady is somehow involved... well, anything can happen. But you must be very brave, little girls, if you are to have any hope of success."

She rose and went to one of the many cupboards that lined the walls. She opened the door and dug around, finally pulling down a pair of small, blue bottles from the topmost shelf. "Here, drink these. They may help you in your search." She handed a bottle to each child and waited expectantly. "Go ahead, they won't hurt you."

"What... what are they?" Lily asked, a little hesitantly.

"They're potions to help you befriend the wild animals here on the mountain. They should help keep you safe from harm—from the animals, anyway," she added under her breath.

The girls drank the contents of the bottles, surprised by the delicious flavor—a little like cake, Lily thought, though Cami said it tasted like strawberry ice cream.

They departed, thanking the oracle for her help with their very best manners, and went on their way. Walking slowly, they combed the slopes as they made their way back down to the trail, then continued on up the mountain a little farther, to where the river flowed through a narrow gulley not far off the path. The girls remembered that this was one of their mother's favorite fishing spots. So it was perhaps those thoughts of her that pulled them down the winding path to the stream, where they stood and watched the water flowing quickly by as it tumbled over rocks and logs. The scent of fresh water reminded them that they were thirsty, so they stooped to get a drink of water, Lily showing Cami how to cup her hands just right to catch the water as it flowed by. Cami finished drinking first, and wandered around while Lily finished.

Before Lily even realized her sister had strayed from her side, she heard a loud crash and a long, wailing scream. Racing to the edge of another, deeper gulley nearby, she saw her sister lying at the bottom of it, dazed. She scrambled down the hill after her, and she cried with relief when she saw that Cami was mostly unharmed, other than some bumps and bruises and scratches from the brambles. But, looking around her, she realized that now they were stuck in the bottom of the ravine, with no way to climb back out. And then she heard more crashing through the brush nearby, accompanied by a loud snuffling sound.

A moment later, a huge brown bear wandered out of the brush, and stopped to stare at the white-faced children, lifting his snout to sniff the breeze.

He lumbered towards them, mumbling to himself, and stopped just a few steps away. Too frightened to move or even scream, the girls stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. He reached out a huge paw, and Lily, shivering, saw that even the smallest of his claws was bigger than the largest of her fingers. She cringed, squeezing her eyes tightly closed, and wrapped herself protectively around her little sister as the bear's paw came down on her.

Then she gasped, and looked up in surprise as the bear clumsily patted her on the head. She got a good look at him then—he was the biggest bear ever, she was sure, and covered in thick shaggy fur, dark brown except for a little bit of grey around his nose and chin and around his big brown eyes. He rumbled a little at her, a peculiar sound that wasn't quite a growl but wasn't quite a snort, either. Then he turned around and lay down and waited... she wasn't quite sure what for.

After a few minutes, he looked over his shoulder, and grumbled again, making a whooshing sound through his nose that reminded Lily of when her mother would sometimes sigh when she was annoyed or impatient. She stood up, feeling sure that the bear wanted her to do something, but uncertain what it was that she was supposed to do, exactly.

Cami, though, gave a little squeal and ran to clamber up the bear's broad back, sitting on him as if for a horsey ride. "Git-up, ho'sie! Git-up!" she exclaimed in delight. The bear looked over at Lily and tossed his snout, as if telling her to do the same. Still hesitant, she climbed up behind her sister, and as the bear slowly rose, the girls grabbed fistfuls of thick fur to keep from sliding off, Cami shrieking with glee all the while.

He lumbered up the steep side of the ravine, digging into logs and earth with his huge claws as he struggled up the slope, occasionally slipping and losing some of the ground that he'd fought so hard to gain. But at last he scrambled over the top of the ravine, right next to the mountain path, then lowered himself down again.

The girls climbed down, and Cami threw her arms around his great, shaggy head, burying her face into his thick fur. Lily reached into her pocket and, after a moment's hesitation, pulled out a handful of blueberries she'd tucked away to share with Cami later. She didn't know when or what they would next eat—but it was important to her to give him something to thank him, and those were all she had. So she held out the berries to him. He snuffled at her hand, then curled his long, red tongue around the small pile, taking them in one sweet, tangy mouthful. He mumbled happily, rose, and lumbered off, disappearing into the undergrowth. The girls could hear him crashing through brush and bramble for some time as they started back up the path towards the peak.

They moved slowly now—it was getting late in the day, and Cami was sore and stiff from her fall, trying not to cry as she stumbled along behind her sister. They were hungry, too, and although Lily scanned the bushes for more berries as they made their way up the path, she didn't find any. She found a few mushrooms, but since she couldn't tell good mushrooms from bad, she wisely left them alone.

Finally they reached the top of the mountain. Near the peak was a small, perfectly round pool of crystal-clear water. The sun was beginning to set, and Lily felt a pang of fear, wondering how she would get her tired sister all the way back down the mountain in the dark. She shivered a little at the thought of the unknown creatures of the night, and felt intensely grateful to the oracle for her gift—though she wondered how long it would last.

The girls sat down near a tree by the pool of water, too tired to go any further or even to try to find something to eat, despite the loud growls and the hunger pangs stabbing both their little tummies. They curled up with their backs against the tree, holding each other tightly, and though Lily struggled to keep awake, soon both girls were sound asleep.

**************

Cam returned home, half-dead with exhaustion. He stopped by the church to fetch the girls, hoping Alisa hadn't minded him leaving them with her so late. It was getting towards midnight now, and still Alice lay feverish and unconscious. Dr. Ayame had been able to bring her fever down to a safer level, but the fever fought back, flaring up again whenever it could. Alice's body was like a battleground now, and he feared she might lose.

Dr. Ayame had insisted he go home and rest, reminding him that his girls needed him, too—even more than Alice. So he left, reluctantly, swearing he'd return the next day as soon as he could arrange for their care.

The church was dark, and he hesitated, not wanting to wake Nathan. Alisa wouldn't be there now, anyway; she boarded at the town hall since there was only one tiny bedroom in the church. He decided that, late as it was, she had probably either taken the girls back to her room with her, or else taken them home to the farmhouse. Since home was closer, he tried there first.

But as with the church, the house was dark and still. So with a tired sigh, he turned and shuffled up the path to the town. He was so tired, it took him nearly twenty minutes to walk the mile from the farm to the town hall. By the time he arrived, the doors were locked for the night. He hesitated, uncertain what to do. He hated to wake Rutger and Rose, and he was sure that Alisa and the girls must be asleep by then, late as it was. So, after some initial reluctance, he turned and slowly returned home, falling straight into bed as soon as he arrived, too tired to even undress.