"Where are you really taking me?" Emery asked the tall, honey-skinned woman, as she followed her toward her car. If Melinda Simmons held the key to the cellar, she probably knew what Emery had taken. So, she grasped the straps of her brown bag tighter, hesitating to trust anyone and everyone as long as she held the box and key. 

"To find answers." Melinda cast a knowing glance over her shoulder. Her hand pulled the passenger door's handle and gestured for Emery to get in. When the girl continued to hesitate, Melinda's leonine features twisted into a grimace. "Or you could stand there and continue to struggle with the fact that you know nothing."

Emery scowled at her. "I need a reason to follow you."

Melinda gave her a firm nod, reaching into the glove box of her car. She grabbed some sort of paper, turned around, and shoved it impatiently toward Emery. 

It was a picture—its edges curled in and damaged. Eleven people faced the camera with stoic expressions. They stood in front of the stairs of a large building, with the words 'Bellanau Community Library' on top of the structure. 

Only three faces were familiar to her. Sheriff Lila stood on the far right; Melinda was standing in the middle, next to a beautiful dark-skinned woman, and on her other side was . . . 

Tracing her finger along her grandmother's familiar face, she whispered, "Mama Emma?"

These people . . . They must've been involved in the library fire. Her gaze went to her grandmother's hands, a wooden box was in her grasp. There was no mistaking it; it was the same box Emery held in her bag. 

There wasn't a hint of hesitation in Emery's voice as she answered, "I'll go."

"Wait!" she heard Seth yell. The boy came sprinting out of the house, his hand outstretched to grab Emery's arm, and his eyes narrowed toward Melinda. "You're not taking Emery anywhere. What do you want?"

Melinda muttered something under her breath, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose before taking a deep breath. "I don't have time for this," she spoke up. In two long, quick strides, she walked up to Seth and placed her thumb on his forehead. Her finger glowed an intense shade of red—similar to how skin looked under the direct gleam of a flashlight—before she pulled away. 

Emery gasped in fear as Seth rocked his head back and forth. His pupils rolled back and his eyelids fluttered as if he was in a drunken stupor. 

"What did you do to him?" Emery exclaimed, moving her hand frantically in front of his gaze. No matter how much she snapped her fingers or poked his cheeks, he didn't seem to react. 

"He'll be fine in a moment. We have to go. We're late." Melinda walked off without another word and got into her car. 

Emery didn't want to leave Seth in this state, but then he blinked. His eyes met hers before taking in his surroundings. The edges of his lips drooped to a frown. "What was I—"

"Your girlfriend's going to dinner, remember? Say, bye-bye," Melinda yelled, rushing Emery by turning on the car engine. 

"Right!" Seth agreed with her, lowering his head to plant a kiss on Emery's cheek. "See you later, Em." As if the last few hours hadn't happened, Seth strolled back inside with a swing in his step. He gave Emery one last wave goodbye before shutting the door. 

What the hell?

In a confused daze, she slowly took a seat in the car. Melinda wasted no time before slamming her foot against the gas. The girl's eyes stayed glued to Mrs. Baker's house until it disappeared from view. From the way Seth had acted, she could only guess . . . 

"Did you erase his memory?" she asked, her voice but a fearful whisp as if the answer to that question could shatter the whole world. 

The woman seemed to hesitate and debate something in her head. After a few seconds of heavy silence, she answered with a tight nod. 

A shaky breath was all she could muster before gathering up the courage to ask, "How much of it did you take away?"

"Just what was necessary . . . Whatever he knew of the Song." Melinda nodded her head at Emery's bag. 

"The Song?" Emery shrugged her backpack off and reached in to grab the items. The key hadn't glowed or burned. She wondered if that meant Melinda could be trusted. 

The woman stared at the items in Emery's lap for a second, before returning her gaze to the road.

"That key you have there. It's called the Song of Fire," Melinda explained, before taking a pause. She seemed to struggle with her words like she was analyzing each word, each syllable. "You were chosen to be its protector . . . like your grandmother was."

Her heart galloped. Finally, someone had real, concrete answers! The "Song" started to hum under her fingers. It was almost like it shared her excitement . . . like it was alive. 

A million questions buzzed around her head, but one bothered her most of all. Visions of her first encounter with this Song and box flooded her cluttered head. "Did you erase my memory?" Emery asked. 

Melinda scowled, making the slight wrinkles in the woman's forehead deeper. Her thumb impatiently tapped against the steering wheel, and Emery noticed the car engine roar as the car moved faster. 

"Well?" Emery pressed.

"Yes." She massaged her temple. "We came to a unanimous decision." Before Emery could ask who 'we' was, Melinda slowed the car to a stop and jammed the gear into park. "Come along. Keep up."

The woman flipped her long braid over her shoulder as she stepped out and walked up a familiar set of steps. 

The library . . . Emery gawked at their destination. A knowing smirk slipped into her lips. She knew exactly where they were headed. 

Her hands shook in anticipation as the tall woman led her inside and walked to the unimpressive door in the corner. Melinda's hand glowed as she turned its handle. The lock gave in as if it was never locked at all, allowing them both to descend to the cellar. 

"I trust you'll keep your calm as you meet the others," Melinda spoke, not bothering to glance at her. "If not, I'll take the necessary precautions and make sure you do."

Emery gulped, her eyes wide. They were walking past the metal cabinets now, and she couldn't believe her eyes. The large door was once again at the back of the room. 

Her fingers pinched her arm over and over. The skin grew red and stung, but she had to make sure. She had to be certain this was real. 

Light seeped through the door's edges. A shadow moved from left to right under it. As soon as they were close, its metal hinges groaned; the wood creaked, and the door opened. 

Melinda spat something out in a language Emery couldn't place. By her spiteful tone, she guessed she was cursing. "I told you to wait in the common room, Poppy. Follow instructions."

The door—now completely ajar—revealed a small girl, seemingly just a few years younger than Emery. Her white dress contrasted greatly with her bronzed skin but complimented her bright blue gaze. The girl pouted. "It's not fair you met the gatekeeper first," she complained.

"Technically, Lila met her first. So, stop your whining and go. Tell Mave we're here."

"Lila?" Emery tried to interrupt, but Melinda raised a hand as if to silence her. 

Poppy tilted her head to stare past Melinda and waved excitedly. "Hey, Emery," she blurted out, before rushing off inside.

Emery flinched. The girl knew her name. How many people knew about this . . . about what she was? More importantly, why did none of them tell her?

Her thoughts scattered as Melinda sauntered past the door. Unlike the last time she was here, the room wasn't pitch black. Oil lamps were hung all around the walls, casting a warm glow toward the hidden rooms. Emery gaped at the objects on the walls once more; the marks glimmered in the light. The key, still in her grip, hummed once more. 

"Welcome to the House of Fire, Emery." Melinda stopped in the middle of the room, finally giving a name to these mysterious chambers. 

Emery nodded her head in an awestruck daze. "Thanks."

Melinda let out a dry chuckle. "Follow me."

They walked through the right archway. It was a long hall, with barely enough space for two people to walk through side by side. At the end of it, another bright room came into view. Emery could see the walls covered in shelves of books. A single brick column stood in between them; an oil painting of a castle rested upon it. 

Emery could see Poppy talking to someone who was just out of sight. She could only discern the large seat they rested upon, and the glint of a ring against a dark hand. 

As they got closer, she could understand Poppy's spritely voice saying, "She's pretty and looks strong like Mel. I bet she'll make a great fighter."

Melinda cleared her throat harshly, making the girl jump and run to a nearby chair.

"Sit here, Emery." Melinda gestured to a single, red armchair against the far wall. It faced four other seats. Poppy took one; another was for Melinda, and on the third sat a familiar face, whose name she couldn't quite place. 

She stared unabashedly at the woman in the middle until it clicked. It was her, the woman who stood in the middle of the library picture.  

Emery had seen few people as beautiful as her, with skin the color of rich earth, and dark, sultry eyes. Her shaved head and excellent posture accentuated her long neck and refined countenance. An eccentric necklace adorned her chest. Its glittering appearance was a stark contrast against her black gown. Her gaze bored into Emery. Calculating, calm, and curious.

Emery lowered herself on the plush seat, her eyes nervously darting between the women. She hugged her bag tight, feeling comfort in the box under the thick cloth. 

Melinda took one of the middle seats, casting glances over her shoulders. "I see Lila's late," she noted, clearing her throat, "as usual."

"I'm right here," Emery heard Lila yell. The woman came out out of an archway in the far left of the room, tying her blonde locks into a low bun. Her uniform had been replaced by casual jeans and a shirt. She took the last seat available, throwing Emery a quick wink. "How're you doing, kid?"

"I'd be better if someone started explaining," she admitted, her heart a rhythmic mess. 

Her words made the elegant woman in the middle let out a silvery chuckle. "I suppose so," she began. "Hello, Emery. My name is Mave: the head of the House of Fire."

"We are its only members—you being the most important," Melinda followed. 

Emery nodded ever-so-slowly, trying her hardest not to lose her cool. 

"Because the Song chose me?" she asked, looking down at her key before bringing out the box as well. She held the two in her lap and stared at them while she asked, "Why are these so important? What are you people? What—"

"Easy," Lila interrupted. "One thing at a time."

Mave nodded, her eyes focused on the objects. "Those two objects in your hands, are used to create a gateway to another realm—a gateway to Izoven."

Emery gulped. This was so much more than she asked for. Her thigh began bobbing up and down as the nerves got the best of her. 

"There are four kingdoms inside this realm, and thus, there are four sets of boxes and keys. One for each element: fire, water, earth, air. You and three others must protect the Songs so that the right people enter Izoven. Only you may open it. Only you may close it. You are a gatekeeper."

She pinched her eyes together, failing to put two and two together. "I don't understand. Where is Izoven? What right people should I let in? How do I . . ." her words failed her as she stared at her hands. She hadn't the faintest idea how to operate any gate. 

Melinda crossed one leg over the other and eased back. "If you possess elemental magic—by heritage or gift—, you are a child of Izoven, which means you are allowed entry. Izoven is the land of the eternal. Inside it, you will not age. You will get to live forever."

"As long as you're not killed," Poppy added, puckering her lips as she realized she might've said more than she should. The other three women whipped around to glare at her.

Emery flinched, her eyes wide in disbelief. Her hands began to shake. The nerves got the best of her, opening her mouth to let out a loud, awkward laugh.  She quickly slammed a pale hand over it to shut herself up. 

If she wasn't before, she'd surely go crazy now. 

Melinda cursed, turning toward Lila. "I told you it was too much for her all at once!"

Lila glared right back. "She had to learn the truth sometime! The curse was fading. I just gave her a nudge."

"A whole shove is more like it. You should've waited before letting her come down here. You should've discussed it. Now, look what's happened! We've a broken gateway and a—"

"Hush!" Mave harshly shushed them, reaching for Melinda's hand. "It's not the time to lose our temper, my love. We must be patient with Emery."

Melinda nodded, but the scowl never softened upon her features. 

"You've made a mistake. I don't have any magic," she tried to explain, but Mave shook her head. 

"That isn't true."

"Lila cursed you," Poppy blurted out, raising an accusing finger toward the blonde. 

"Poppy!" Lila scolded. 

The girl shrugged. "Just trying to speed things along."

Lila sighed, taking a deep breath before facing Emery. "Okay, sure. Technically, I cursed you, but it's gone now. I took it away. You'll have your magic back in no time flat." 

Emery gaped at the woman. Her cheery tone did nothing to ease her worry.

"I'm sorry, Emery. You were just so young when you got chosen. We came to the conclusion it was best to wait until you were older."

Emery slumped back in her seat, massaging her forehead. A headache was beginning to pound against her temple from all the information. "I don't get it . . . Didn't you need me to travel to this realm? Why did you decide to wait?"

Mave shook her head. "There are other reasons why we cannot travel to Izoven, but there's no need for you to worry yourself with political affairs for now."

Unsettled, Emery sucked in her bottom lip and bit hard, trying to keep herself from blabbering out the million questions bouncing around her head. There was too much she wanted to know. She wanted facts, proof, pictures, evidence . . . She wanted everything.

"What you must understand, Emery," Lila continued, "is that many people want that key and gate. You have to train and learn to protect it."

At those words, a shadowy figure came to mind. "People . . . People like that thing that killed my grandfather?"

The four women seemed to shudder at the question. They all averted Emery's gaze, except for Mave. The woman lifted her chin, her voice serious when she explained, "That thing's name is Vareus; he was a former King of Izoven."

Emery's breath hitched at the name, remembering her previous encounter with the strange man on the cliff. 

"Banished for his heinous crimes against his people, he was cursed to live the rest of his days on Earth. Here he'd grow old and die.

"But," Mave continued, raising her perfectly raised eyebrows, "As with all curses, there's a loophole—a cure of sorts. His was that if he could have the Four Songs of Izoven in his possession, the curse would be broken, and the Kingdom of Fire would be his once more. He only managed to get a single Song before he faced you fourteen years ago and was never seen again."

"Oh," Emery finally made sense of it. "So, that's why Theodore wanted these." 

If Theo was the banished king's son, she supposed he was on the same quest as his cursed father. 

"He's not very smart, is he? He broke his way in." Emery lifted the broken box's lid and let it fall flat. It appeared to have lost its abilities. 

Mave flinched. "Theodore?" Her face was riddled with worry. 

"Vareus' son," Emery told them, confused as to why they didn't recognize the name. 

Mave's calm countenance shattered. She flew up from her seat, grasping her chest in shock. "A son?!"