A strange chill had crept through the late summer warmth, edging it with a bite that convinced people to cover their bare shoulders and turned morning dew to light frost. The past three days had seen little sunshine, shrouded in a fair mist as they were, and even so much as walking to school became an enigmatic experience. Emery wandered through a few school days as well as she could, though she struggled to pay attention and took the opportunity to converse with the others any chance she found. Group work on a presentation? She laughed with Liam and Natalya about the game of soccer they'd attempted to play with the warriors Sunday afternoon (it was a good thing they'd brought several balls). Passing time between classes? She made sure to watch for Deirdre to check up on how she was doing (her sister had grown a bit dreamy and distant as of late). Lunch? Time with Tess to discuss what message Cathbad had sent her via raven that morning. And then there were the moments she saw Charlie in class or in the hall and tried to push aside her feelings of discomfort in order to attempt normal conversation with him.

When Cathbad had told her Evil had arrived, right after she'd come out of her vision, she'd been too confused to make sense of his words. And even when the clouds had cleared from her head, the signs the druid pointed to as evidence didn't seem as worrisome as he claimed they were: the ferns growing around the campsite had reddened and crisped, and the grass had begun to brown a little too quickly for the time of year. But how these signs revealed any sort of evil was unclear to Emery, and Cathbad either didn't want to say more or didn't know any more to say because he'd been able to tell her only that Evil was afoot.

What it all meant, she didn't know. Emery could only assume Evil was the antlered brother, the one she'd most feared that night in the woods, when they'd found her during the search for Adam. Cathbad had explained that the brothers likely had just arrived that night, which was why Cearnach had been able to so easily expel them; they hadn't gained their full strength. But if Evil was coming, what form would it take? Dark had been obvious . . . even Death hadn't been too difficult to figure out . . . but Evil? What were its devious methods? How did wilted ferns and grass signify anything other than changing seasons? She'd asked the druid as much, but he'd clammed up, much to Emery's chagrin.

The few days that followed were difficult for Emery. She was grateful to be able to talk openly with her friends about some of the goings-on, at least, but the moments when she was alone in her head always returned her to the vision she'd had at the camp, how close she'd been to Cullen, how real it had felt--and then she'd start thinking of the way he'd kissed her all those days ago. Her face would warm, and her cheeks would redden, and she'd begin to grow almost ill with anxiety.

She remembered nothing about any sort of life with him. That hadn't changed. And she was frightened of whatever passion he thought they had between them. She didn't want his fierce affection--she didn't know what to do with it, how to categorize it--and she couldn't possibly share it. Whatever she felt toward him was so different from what she felt for Charlie, so foreign to her. But she had to admit that Cullen and all his ardor fascinated her as well . . . if she could turn entirely away from him, why hadn't she done so already?

And yet, she couldn't go with him, either. What would that mean, if she took his hand and agreed to return to wherever he thought she belonged? Would she have to place herself at his mercy?

The notion was petrifying.

How could she explain it to Cathbad, to whom it all seemed so easy? She trusted her feelings only to Tess. Wednesday afternoon, at the end of another difficult day of trying to pay attention in school, Emery and Tess walked to a coffee shop and ordered some hot cocoas, sat by a window and talked about how chilly the weather had become. Neither said but both knew the cold probably had something to do with Evil. Cathbad had warned them before they'd left Camp Hack-a-back on Sunday that nature would begin to show signs of Evil.

"Where'd you go in Spanish?" Tess asked, spooning the whipped cream off the top of her cocoa and into her mouth.

Emery rolled her eyes. "I had to go talk with Jeff."

"Jeff?"

"The counselor. He wanted to check in with me. My parents went and saw him, and now everyone's worried about how I'm doing in school."

"It's kind of hard to think about school with what's going on."

"Exactly. So I'm just trying to go through the routines, keep him satisfied." She tried to take a sip of her cocoa, but it burned her mouth, and she plopped it down too quickly, sloshing some of it out of the mug. The smallest things irritated her, lately.

"This is the first time everyone else is seeing the effects of it, though, right? I mean, what's happened so far--it's like only we have been involved. What happened with Dark and Death . . . nobody else knew about it."

She was right, Emery realized. Everybody was experiencing the sudden chill, the premature plant wilting. If it were indeed Evil causing it, only she and her friends would understand what was going on. How nice for everyone else, to live in ignorance while she had to bear the weight of knowledge. What was she supposed to do to defeat Evil if she didn't even know what Evil intended?

"When does Cat want us to come back out there?"

"I don't know," Emery responded. "Like most things right now. I hate not knowing what's coming. I don't know how to prepare for anything, and I haven't been able to sleep because of all the uncertainty." She closed her eyes, pressed the bridge of her nose. "Tess, I just want all of it to go away. I just want to go back to normal."

Always reasonable in spite of her childlike appearance, Tess calmly took a drink and studied her impulsive friend. "I do like Cat, and I'd be sad if we never saw him again. Some of those warriors are all right, too. And you have to admit, Emery, that things have been a lot more interesting lately."

"You aren't the one with some crazy man trying to tell you're married to him."

"True. I can only imagine what that feels like." Tess contemplated the girl across the table. "What are you going to do? About Cullen?"

Emery forced herself to take a drink of her too-hot cocoa before responding, maybe thinking the shock of it would help in some way. "If I go with him, you'll forget me. All of you will just forget I ever existed." The fabric of time will sew a new seam, she thought.

"How do you know that?"

"Cat told me. It's what happened to Adam, who you don't remember. He was here, and then they took him back, and now apparently he's a God or something."

"That's who you two were talking about the other night? Someone I don't remember?"

"Yes. He was our friend, Tess. When I realized you didn't remember him, I just . . ."

"Don't you think that's why you remember him? Because you knew him from the other place? I mean, why wouldn't the rest of us--even his own family--remember him?"

Sitting back hard against her chair, causing it to screech against the tile and draw looks, Emery grew flustered. "Are you trying to say you want me to go?"

Tess looked as if it pained her to reply. "I don't want to forget you. You're my best friend. But if it's what's right for you--"

"No. It's not. I don't know him--I know you! And my family and friends here. Even if this is all some crazy spell or something, it's my whole life!" A frustrated sob rose in Emery's throat, and she had to swallow it down. "I don't want to go somewhere I can't remember with someone I don't even know. He scares me, Tess! And I don't want to be married. What if he expects . . . things from me? What am I supposed to do about that?"

"Maybe you could divorce him. And you'd have Cat. He wouldn't let anything happen to you, I'm sure."

"Cat works for Cullen. He's said a million times Cullen doesn't listen to him. It seems like all these guys follow him. I don't know if I'd have any say at all."

Holding her mug with both hands as if to warm them, Tess looked out the window at the mist, watched some people walk by wearing hats and sweatshirts and wondered. "Yeah, it's likely they're from some sort of medieval times. Women didn't have a lot of rights back then. But you did say that Cullen was fighting a woman when you saw him last, didn't you? So maybe it's not as bad as we think."

"I don't know," Emery sighed. "I can't risk it, Tess. I don't want to go off and be alone, and there's no guarantee I'd remember any of it just by saying yes to him. I'd never be able to come back. And anyway, I'm still not convinced that this is about me; maybe the curse is about his memory remembering fake things and not mine forgetting real things."

"What's the alternative, then? Just hope they go away?"

"I've been thinking hard about it. Once we get rid of Evil, I'll just tell Cat I don't want to go. He can break the news to Cullen; I won't even have to see him again. And what can they do? They'll just have to leave me alone."

"You think he will?"

Emery knew which "he" Tess meant, and she felt certain he wouldn't give up easily, but Cullen couldn't pester her forever; he'd have to move on at some point. And she could get the police involved if she had to. "I'll never willingly go back with him. He'll just have to get over it."

"Your mom is calling." Tess pointed to Emery's phone, which was screen-up on the table. She'd silenced it at school.

Emery answered, knowing her mother would leave an irritated message if she didn't, and besides a brief greeting, the girl remained mostly silent except for a "what?" and a "are you serious?" and a "but--." All of these accompanied shifting expressions which ended in consternation and a peevish "bye." By the time Emery had hung up, she saw Tess eyeing her with interest. Shaking her head in disbelief, Emery told her, "My parents are pulling me and Deirdre out of school for two weeks. They want to take us on a vacation."

"What? When?"

"We're leaving next Monday."

Tess's mouth hung open in shock. "But--but that's in, like, four days! School just started! Where are you going?"

"To Miami, to visit Neve."

"This is the worst possible time for a vacation, Em!"

"What do you want me to do?" Emery cried a little too loudly. She knew this was terrible timing. How could she leave when so much was happening? What would become of the warriors, of her town? What would everyone do if Evil came? Or what if Evil followed her--could Cathbad protect her from so far away?

Pulling on her charm necklace, Tess scrunched up her face in thought. "Why on earth would they want to take a trip now?"

Emery knew. No doubt they'd received a call from Jeff, whose office she'd visited before school let out that afternoon. She shouldn't have told that short insignificant man that she didn't care about grades, that she had too many things going on at home, that if she had to sit through another mind-numbing class she'd kill herself. That'd been the nail in her coffin, that comment, even though she hadn't meant it. One couldn't say something like that to a counselor and expect it to go unnoticed. She hadn't gone "through the routines" at all, as she'd told Tess; she hadn't satisfied anyone or anything other than her own short temper. She'd only exacerbated her problems, now.

"They're worried," Emery answered in a hushed tone. "They probably think they have to get me away for a while." She was angry at herself for letting down her guard and venting to the wrong person. "I'm sorry, Tess. I don't know what I can do."

That evening, Emery walked Tara through the streets of her neighborhood again. How different everything looked, now, though it was much the same as it'd always been. The mist had risen and thinned enough to feel safe walking through it; the chill was there but tolerable with the right clothing. Emery wore jeans and a sweater and sneakers. But it wasn't so much that the houses and yards and streets themselves had changed; it was Emery's perception of them that had changed. All of it was so perfect, so cloaked in normalcy, when her knowledge of what lurked just beyond had deepened to distraction. She couldn't look at any house without thinking about the innocence of the people inside it, going about their normal business while Evil potentially lurked beyond. What would've happened if the undead had wandered the streets? Maybe she should've let them do so. Maybe these people needed a wake-up call. And yet, if she left, would they remember anything associated with her? She doubted it. No one recalled the drama, the suffering that Adam's disappearance had brought.

Her dog was happy enough, trotting along, oblivious to any oddness in the atmosphere. Emery briefly wished she were a dog, no worries beyond what to eat and where to get it. The only good to have come in the last weeks was Tara; the feisty fellow had kept her spirits up whenever she'd been at home. He rushed to the door to greet her when she returned from wherever she'd had to go, and he sat up with her at night. Whenever she tossed and turned and woke, she'd find Tara at the foot of her bed. He surely enjoyed her company the most, and Emery assumed it was because she'd been the one to find him, to take him in. For her part, she enjoyed his temperament. While he was rather opposed to belly rubs and snuggling, he appreciated a good behind-the-ears scratch and getting into a bit of mischief, particularly with pillows and anything containing water.

Their walk that night was quite long, as Emery allowed both Tara as well as her thoughts to wander. So when the girl did finally become aware of her surroundings, she was mildly surprised to find Tara had led her to the middle school, into the parking lot where she'd spent more time than she'd have liked, lately, and where she knew she might be in danger.

"Hey, boy," Emery called to the dog, who still trotted at a good pace, pulling her along. "Tara, stop! Sit!" She gave the lead a gentle tug, but the black dog was determined. In fact, her gesture seemed only to provoke him, and he pulled so hard and fast that Emery couldn't keep hold of the lead. Once he was free, Tara took off across the soccer fields and toward the woods, where he disappeared into total darkness.

Emery stood staring down the hill in shock, attempting to make out any sort of moving shape that might be her dog, but for as much as she called for Tara and for as long as she dared wait for him, he didn't return.

It was with a heavy heart that Emery turned and headed home, figuring that Tara knew where to find her if he wished to return, and wondering what else could possibly go wrong. Maybe a trip to Miami was perfect. Maybe lying on the beach, soaking up some sun and neglecting anything and everything but herself for a few weeks was just what she needed. And after those weeks were up, if she were lucky, maybe she'd return to find that everything had gone back to normal . . . maybe.