Secret Places and Hidden Things

Chapter Sixteen

"No." She said firmly. They'd been talking for a while. Michael had made a suggestion that was too difficult to accept.

"There's no need to be afraid," Michael said.

"I'm not afraid, I'm upset. I'm upset about all of it. I came out here for answers—for a cure—and so far I've only found more suffering and death."

"Have you?" Michael asked. "The fox didn't die, if that was your concern. We're too far away from death for that to happen."

Jain looked up sharply. "Too far? What do you mean?" She looked at Michael's strange, dark eyes carefully, but his face held no answers, just a benign and pleasant smile.

"Don't you know? You passed over death."

"But what do I know of death?" Jain asked.

"Perhaps you don't know more than I do," Michael replied, "but whatever you learn may be useful for me. I wouldn't lead you astray."

"I still don't feel safe," Jain said.

"Then take a disguise. Daerk will be able to offer you more than I can."

That was how Jain found herself in the body of an elk, moving warily through the woods. She held her nose to the wind and strained her enhanced hearing to the edge of its range, trying to detect even the faintest trace of the red woman.

She found the helm more quickly than she would have expected. Where, before, it had been on a rolling grassy plane, now it was nestled at the foot of a mountain range. The trees were still hugging its left, but they were mostly pines, whispering quietly in a light breeze. She left the woods at full trot, hoping to make it across the empty area as quickly as possible, but the faster she moved, the further away the helm seemed to get. It was like a bad dream.

She looked behind her, and the forest was gone. The sky overhead was much too wide. She was balanced on the pinnacle of a hill, and most of the space around her was sky. She bellowed in fear, the whites of her eyes showing as she tossed her head. The ache of anxiety clamped around her chest and made her breath come in shallow gasps. She was rooted to the spot. She closed her eyes and dropped her nose to the ground, sniffing at the soil. She listened with her new ears and observed the wind as it picked through the pale hairs on her skin. When she opened her eyes once more, the colors of the world intensified around her. The horizon plunged upward into the sky, massive mountains stabbing into space, and a flurry of trees rushed in at their base. The helm was directly in front of her, and she was only a few steps from the door. She shrugged off her elkness and folded it away in her mind, knocking softly on the front door. It opened at her touch, swinging inward on quiet hinges.

The front hall was large and dark, with a gold-trimmed red carpet leading up a sweeping flight of stairs. There were other doors beyond the staircase and a hall behind it. To her left was an antechamber, and the fire crackling in the fireplace drew her in. When she got through the door, she noticed the room was actually a tall tower, its ceiling lost in darkness, and a strange man was sitting in one of the chairs waiting for her.

He was gray—his skin, his eyes, his hair—and he was dressed all in black with a blank look on his face. "You're new, aren't you?" he said. "That is interesting, isn't it? Yes..."

"New to what?" Jain asked.

He peered at her, leaning forward. "New to the helm, of course." He gestured to the walls of the room.

"Well, no, I don't think so," Jain said. "I'm looking for Daerk."

The man sat up, tilted his head to the side, and squinted at her, as if she was some interesting specimen. "Looking for me, you say?" He rubbed a long, spidery finger along his thumb. She could hear the small, dry sound it made in the silence of the room.