It's a slap in the face. I'm half surprised I don't feel a sharp stinging across my cheek that I have to rub away. I blink once, twice, three times to make sure I'm in the here and now, the up and up.

   My voice squeaks as I look at him with uncertainty.

   "What?"

   He speaks slow and evenly as if to pound in this fact 100%.

   "My mother is here. She's found a way."

   What do I say? What can I say? How is this happening?

   "Okay, alright, don't panic, don't flip out just yet."

   As I trail off in thought, Xalale resumes pacing my small room fervently. I take a seat, not knowing if my legs can even support me at this point, but I stand up, again, looking at him in shock.

   "How?"

   He doesn't stop pacing. "I don't know."

   I sit again, speechless. I stand once more.

   "Where is she?"

   "In the woods, farther back, closer to the stream."

   Slapping my hand to my forehead, my instinct is to pat my pockets for the stone- the thing she's here for. I'm relieved to know it's still in my safe possession.

   "Well?" I question, waiting expectedly.

   He finally stops pacing and looks at me hard.

   "What?"

   "Give me details. Did she see you or did you spot her first?"

   He runs his hand through his hair in agitation.

   "She noticed me before I even sensed she was there. She took me by surprise, to say the least."

   There's brief pause before I press.

   "Well, did she ask you about, you know, the stone?"

   Staring out at the window for a second, he then sighs turning to face me.

   "She blatantly asked for it as though she deemed me foolish enough to give her it."

   I can picture Aelita boldly requesting the stone as if asking for a tissue.

   "When I refused, she seemed apathetic towards the matter."

   Even though I can imagine Aelita responding in a cool, calculated manner, it just doesn't seem right for her to act so blasè about this stone she's been wanting so desperately. She has something in mind, I can sense it.

   "What's her ace card?"

   "She apparently has no agenda in mind other than asking me to retrieve it for her. She is quite complacent in the fact that I will do so, eventually."

   "Why would she think that?" Has she even been keeping tabs on how frigid her relationship with Xalale is? She believes someone who hates her with all his might is going to, at some point, give her what she wants no questions asked. Aelita is not up to par, that much is for sure.

   "If that is her only plan for retrieving the stone, it will fail," He scoffs spitefully.

   I nod, still concerned.

   "She's strong, though. If she wanted she could catch us off guard and-"

   "She's weak. Whatever she used to get herself here has drained her energy- which explains her passive behavior. She will need to recuperate before she is fully at the advantage again."

   Exhaling shakily, I shake my head in disbelief then look at him again, though he stares out the window, his jaw still set in anger and apprehension.

   "What can we do to stop her?"

   "Get rid of her." His voice carries a low finality to it that I shift at.

   "How?"

   He merely glances at me then back at the view again.

   "We should send her back," I suggest.

   "We don't even know how to send me back," His voice drops a volume lower at this. "She'll always be a problem. She gets exactly what she has her eyes set on."

   I hate this doom and gloom mood settling over us, but I don't know what to do to solve anything. All we're doing by withholding the stone from her is delaying the disaster that's about to strike us.

   "We'll think of something," I say at last.

    It's not a certain, comforting truth- or lie for that matter- but it gives this conversation some closure until we have to deal with it again.

   This new curtain of dread just puts us more on edge. Our guard can't be down like it has for the past few days. This stone cannot fall into Aelita's hands.

   "It won't, unless..." In the back of my mind that constant, little pessimistic voice whispers. I shake my head to get rid of such thoughts and ideas I know it's bound it say, but it's not enough to mute it. "Just stay on your guard at all time, around everyone."

   My eyes glance up at Xalale, his back towards me, staring out the window.

   "He wouldn't dare." My helpful, optimistic side voices confidentially.

   "Says who?"

   "They can't stand each other. Why would he help her?"

   I can practically hear my negative side sigh at my positive, naive voice. "Perhaps you need an update. He's, firstly and foremost, her son so there will always be that. Secondly, he does have bi-polar tendencies. Any more questions?"

   Breaking my gaze from him, I stare at my sketchbook, now torn. My mind can be an evil thing at times.

   "For now, he's trustworthy. I don't see why he shouldn't be." Ultimately my optimistic side wins out, but my negativity has to throw in its two cents.

   "For now..."

   Sighing inwardly, I attempt to brush all this behind us, but it lingers in the back of my mind for the rest of the day.

For the remainder of the day till bed, I can tell both our minds are occupied with this new stormcloud hanging above us. Settling down to sleep, I worry I'll be forced to stay awake with these constant worries and fears.

   Even though I'm quite certain there's no way she could silently creep in here at night, I slip the stone under my pillow instead of back in the drawer just as a precautionary measure. My negative, pestering voice tries to tell me there's a duel reason to why I'm keeping it so close, but I ignore those accusations.

   As predicted, I toss and turn without a single wink of sleep. Growling softly in frustration, I turn on my side facing toward the window.

   "Xalale, are you still awake?" I barely whisper it knowing full and well he is.

   His response comes delayed, but it does come.

   "Yes. What's troubling you?"

   "I can't sleep."

   "What do you want me to do about it?" He asks flatly.

   Shrugging, I reply in a lower volume as to not sound too loud to my sleeping parents down the hall.

   "I don't know."

   Silence fills the room and settles. Sneaking a peek at the clock, it reads a little past midnight.

   "Would you like me to read to you? Something to distract your mind."

    It surprises me that he would offer, but I reply positively.

   "That would be nice."

   He sits and looks at me.

   "What kind of tale would you like to hear?"

   I think for second. "A fairytale. You know, like a happy one. Maybe one from your childhood."

   He thinks on that for a moment then sighs and begins. I prop myself up with my arm and listen attentively.

   "In the middle of a forest there lived a great willow which stood next to a constant, healing river. None could drown in the river for its purpose was only to heal. The willow itself could protect any who stood under its shade, giving them life for as long as they remained underneath. The place where the tree and river sat was called Rvite: the peaceful meadow.

    "Far away in a small, penurious village lived a certain stableboy who hadn't much but was diligent and honest in everything he did. He worked for a very cruel and greedy couple who paid him very little or nothing at all; they worked him day and night and would make him sleep in the stables with the horses. The boy never complained, though, and enjoyed sleeping amongst the creatures he loved and tended to. He never lost hope that one day the father, who abandoned him with the couple, might return to take him home at last. So each day he would wait eagerly for his lost father to return.

    "One day, upon tidying the stables, the boy overheard the couple talking in hushed voices on the matter of his father. He heard them bickering until the wife made mention of the fact that the boy's father was dead. Astonished and distraught by the news, the grief-stricken boy fled from the village by horse as far away as he could, for there was no reason left for him to remain in wait for his father. He rode until arriving at Rvite, pausing to rest under the willow tree. The boy knew not what to do with himself nor where to go, so he went by the river to refresh himself. Unfortunately, he leaned so far he fell into the river and never having learned to swim could not break to the surface again and sunk to the bottom. As mentioned before, no one could drown in this healing river, so the boy was merely put into a deep sleep and would remain in such until lifted out of the waters.

    "Now many years had passed and in a nearby kingdom, there lived a king and his daughter. The kingdom was a very peaceful one and the king a fair man who sought to rule his kingdom justly. Though the king hadn't been seen much by the anyone, even his lovely, innocent daughter whom he cherished dearly. You see, the king was once a very joyous man, but his only son was taken from him when he was only an infant and this loss had crushed the king's spirit. He searched the entire kingdom from his lost son, but no one could find the boy. A few years after, his wife- the queen- gave birth to their daughter and the king's happiness was partially restored, though it was short-lived for his beloved queen died shortly after their daughter's birth. Many years had passed, but the king never was the same joyous man he had once been. All her life, his daughter had witness her father's grief and wished now to take such a burden from him. She determined in her mind to find her long-lost brother. Very few thought she could do it, but this was the one great thing she sought after so she set off into woods to find her brother.

    "On the way, she came across an old woman who had lost her coin. The old crone was so hunched over she could not reach the fallen coin and begged for the girl to retrieve it for her. The girl being so kind hearted to all was moved to help the old woman and picked up the coin for her. The old woman was grateful for many had passed her by even though she begged for help and the girl was the only one who stopped and helped her. To show her thanks the woman told the girl she would help her in anyway seeing how the woman was a witch. The girl requested a way to find her lost brother. The woman agreed and conjured up a particular spell which would lead the young girl to where her brother could be found. Bidding farewell to the dame, the girl set out again to follow the spell which would lead her to her brother.

    "The spell led her to Rvite, a place she had heard tales about but never could have imagined existed. She wandered about, confused as to where her brother could be as the spell pointed her here. As she entered under the willow, she found a horse tied to the tree. She wondered where its owner could be, but saw no one around. She was next attracted to the river which was clear and pure. Upon peering into the river, she was startled to discovered a young man seemingly asleep peacefully at the bottom of the river. She then knew this was her long lost brother and she was exceedingly glad for she knew anyone who fell into the river could not be drowned. Needing to wake him, she reached down into the river to pull him out but was dismayed when her arms were not long enough. The girl could not swim and knew if she were to fall in she would suffer the same fate as her brother and then no one would find them. So she sat and thought of a way to safely pull him out of the river. An idea was quick to come and she hurried to climb the base of the tree, climbing to the very top until she could reach for the long leaves of the tree. Afraid she might fall, she reached cautiously for one and plucked it from the branch. Delighted, she climbed down from the tree and knelt beside the river, knotting the end of the tangle into a loop wide enough to wrap around the waist of her brother. Dropping it into the water, she secured it around him and began to pull, hoping to bring him to the surface. She strained for many toiling minutes, but to no avail. She was not strong enough to pull him out by herself so she thought of another way. Remembering the horse tied to the tree, she tied the other end of the rope to the creature and made it to move so to pull her brother out. Her plan worked and at last, the youth was pulled out of the river where he finally awoke to his sister's joyful cries.

    "He thanked her for saving him, but did not yet know her to be his sister. She told about her search for him and the king's prior, tireless search. She told him all about how much despair their father was in and the grief he endured everyday at the loss of his son. Upon hearing this, the young man was overjoyed for he thought his father was long dead. In jubilation, the two rode home to their father, the king, who upon seeing his long-lost son and his dear daughter was overcome with rejoice weeping. The kingdom celebrated the return of the lost prince and they lived in happiness and prosperity for many years thereafter."

    I must have, at some point during the tale, slid down to where he was so I could be closer. By the end, my thoughts were far from the troubles that plagued me earlier.

   "You're really good at telling stories," I say in awe. "Where did you hear that one?"

   He glances at me with an unreadable expression.

   "When I was younger. A woman named Swethyna told me it."

   "Oh." I fight to lose some of my admiration and eagerness, brushing it off sheepishly.

    I'm not sure what to say at this point, but I want to say something.

   "Thank you for that."

   "You're welcome."

    We're both lying on our backs, staring up at the ceiling as if the webs hanging from there were stars that could give us the answers. I know it sounds childish, but such a story puts me at ease because, even though many wouldn't consider life a fairytale, those stories tell me that there's always a light at the end of the tunnel and good always triumphs.

    "Are you still awake?" I whisper through the silence.

    I know he is, his breathing tells me so.

    "Yes."

    My eyes remain glued to the ceiling where the shadows of the moonlight illuminates perfectly. When I don't say anymore, he asks,

   "What's wrong?"

   "Can you sing?"

   There's a brief clip of silence where I genuinely believe he's mulling it over in his head, but his flat, uncompromising voice tells me otherwise.

   "No."

   Despite this, I can't help but smile to myself.

   "You're no fair."

   Another brief pause then a yawn.

   "Goodnight, Mallory."

   He turns on his side ending the conversation.

   "Night."