She got him a huge wig of dark curly hair at the studio warehouse. While she drove away, Petrel put his new headgear on and admired himself in the rear-view mirror. Wearing his turban, he had looked like an Indian rajah. Wearing the wig, he looked like a '70s rapper with a mad afro.

"Do you have a bigger mirror?" he demanded. "I want to see how it looks from the back."

Lisa shook her head. She couldn't resist a smile. When they stopped for coffee a few minutes later, she called James about her guest who wanted to go spelunking. She didn't mention Petrel's elven persuasion, but James couldn't get away today. They made plans for tomorrow. Then she called her mother. Marina was slightly feverish but not in pain. She didn't even need her regular dose of pain medication.

"I'm not sure that's a good sign," her mother said quietly. "She is asleep now. Will you come visit again soon? She loves it when you come."

"Yes, mom. In a couple days," Lisa promised.

"Not better?" Petrel sipped his tea, his eyes inscrutable.

"No. Maybe tomorrow."

"What are we going to do now? You could drive me to the cave without your friend. I know where it is." According to Petrel's grandfather, the cave with the gate to Elfhome was somewhere along the Sea-to-Sky highway, near Shannon Falls.

"I suppose we could take a look." Lisa started the car. "It's not too far, although I've never heard about any caves there. There is an old mine there and a museum. But even if there is a cave, you're not going inside without James and his gear. I don't want to be responsible for your death."

Petrel grinned. During the ride, he entertained her with outrageous tales about his sailing grandfather and cousins but very little about himself. He seemed in high spirit all the way to Britannia Beach, where he suddenly tensed.

"Should I drive farther?" Lisa slowed down at the entrance to a small parking lot across the road from one of the scenic lookouts. Only one car, a gray sedan, was parked there.

"Don't stop," he said. "Drive! They knew I would be here."

Lisa accelerated and glanced in the side mirror. The men around the sedan were not admiring the scenery. All three were watching her car, until a bend in the road hid them from view.

"They are your enemies?"

"Yes."

"How do you know?" She gripped the wheel tighter, her stomach churning. She couldn't really believe those people would kill, but Petrel's agitation was contagious. Had she stumbled on a real-life thriller with the real-life villains, when she invited a pretty elf to her place? She shivered. "They don't look any different from other people."

"I recognize one of them. He was on the plane from New York with me."

"Ouch," Lisa said. "So that would be the stop you wanted?"

"Yes. But they are watching it. They don't know how to find the cave but they know the approximate location. I can't go there now."

"How do they know?"

"Maybe they have a spy in my grandfather's household. They had centuries to prepare."

"Fine. We'll drive to Whistler, like normal tourists."

"I should go back to New York," Petrel said gloomily.

He only revived in the Sea-to-Sky Gondola, his eyes glued to the glass, as he drank in the amazing sights. The gondola swayed on its cable, so high above the ground, Lisa felt dizzy.

"I wish I could ride outside, on the roof of this thing," Petrel said with genuine regret. "I want to feel the wind on my face, not this stuffy glass box."

"You're crazy." Lisa stayed in the exact center of the gondola, as far from any of its windows as she could, and tried to pretend she was on a tourist bus. It didn't work. No bus had kilometers of empty air under its wheels.

By the time they returned home in the evening, Petrel slid back into his melancholy, but Lisa had a plan. "We're going to make a movie," she announced. "I'll call a few people, and we are going to make that parking lot our base for the technical vans. If those guys are still there tomorrow, I'm going to interview them on camera, for my school movie. I doubt they would want that."

"What are you talking about?" Petrel ate his dinner slowly and methodically. Unlike the previous evening, he didn't seem to be tasting his food.

"I need a movie for my school project. I was filming that show where I met you, but this is better. I'm going to make James my hero. I want him to tell me about the caves in BC and the native legends that surround them. He once said that every cave has a legend attached. That will be a great theme for a documentary. He might even know about your cave. And a legend for it."

"You can't tell your friends about me." Petrel even stopped shoveling the stew into his mouth to deliver his ultimatum.

"I have to tell James. James needs to know if he is to help you. You can trust him."

He eyed her for a fewmoments before resuming his glum dinner. "Fine," he growled.