TRINITY AWOKE WITH A CRICK IN HER neck and a frozen nose. She pulled the blanket up over her head and paused. Her blanket wasn’t that big. She peeked out from under the cover. Gaar’s cloak was tucked around her. She smiled and turned to thank him but he wasn’t there. She shoved the covers down and gazed down to the forest floor. There he was, moving some items from his backpack to hers. She breathed a sigh of relief. For all her talk, she didn’t want to be alone out here.

“Come down. We need to get moving,” he said without looking up.

She untied the rope and then folded his cape and her blanket, tossing all three items over her shoulder before climbing down to the lowest branch and dropping from the tree. Her legs buckled on her landing. She’d worked hard all her life in the fields but that was nothing compared to her lessons yesterday. “Thanks for letting me borrow your cloak,” she said, handing it to him

He grunted and slipped it on over his wide shoulders. He tossed her a backpack and slung the larger one and his quiver onto his back. She opened the sack and stuffed her blanket and rope inside next to her canteen, bread and dried fruit. He was letting her carry some of the food. Hopefully, this meant her lessons were over.

They traveled for several hours, changing directions so many times that she was completely lost. Gaar was grumpy and in no mood for her constant questions, so she gave up and tried to figure out where they were.

“You stay here,” he said, stopping near a large tree.

“Alone?” Was he kidding?

“Don’t get any bright ideas about going home. Mirra will be here soon and if she doesn’t find you, she will hunt you down.” He leaned toward her. “Trust me. You don’t want to be on the receiving end of an angry Tracker.”

He wasn’t joking. He was leaving. He must have misread the concern on her face for he softened his tone.

“She wouldn’t hurt you, but”—he shrugged—“I can’t say the same about your friends and family.”

“Why can’t I go with you?”

“It’s better if no one sees us together. You’ll be safe here. The predators don’t come this close to town and the Almightys consider the area cursed.”

That last part did not make her feel better. “Why? What’s wrong with this place?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know. I never had any problems around here. One of their superstitions, I suppose.”

“Oh.” His lack of information was not comforting. “Are you sure I’ll…”

“You’ll be fine. Just stay in this tree until Mirra finds you. I’ll be back in a day or two.” He turned and walked away.

She glanced up at the tree. It was huge, but she could climb it. She smiled. She wouldn’t have thought so yesterday. She turned back to tell him goodbye but he was gone. It had only been a couple of seconds. Where did he go? She moved to get a better view through the brush, but it was like he faded into the bushes. If he could disappear like that, could something appear that quickly?

She stumbled back to the tree and climbed it, finding a wide, thick branch high off the ground. She’d sleep here tonight. She practiced her listening skills for a while and then watched a couple of squirrels playing overhead. They moved on to a nearby tree and she sighed. It wasn’t even lunchtime yet. What was she going to do now? Well, she was at the Lake of Sins. She should get a look at this evil place. She climbed as high as she could and still be able to go out on a branch for a better view of the area.

The sun sent tiny droplets of moisture sparkling across the water. There were white statues around the lake and one on the small island that sat toward the center of the water. She couldn’t quite make out the details of the sculptures since the brush around the lake was dense, but it was beautiful, magical. Why would the Almightys avoid this place? She needed a closer look. She repositioned herself in the tree several times but could not get a better view. She scooted back and leaned against the trunk. It was going to be a long day.

She dug in her backpack and pulled out her canteen and a small chunk of Gaar’s bread. She broke off a piece and tossed it in her mouth. She placed the rest of the loaf on her knee while she uncapped her water bottle. She was just getting ready to take a drink when the bread slid off her leg. She caught it but she leaned too far and started to fall. As she grabbed ahold of the branch, her canteen slipped from her fingers. She shifted to regain her balance but it was too late. Her water bottle was on the ground. She stuffed the bread in her pack and climbed down the tree.

She picked up the canteen. It was almost empty. Now, she was going to have to find water. There was no way she could eat Gaar’s bread without it. She put the bottle back in her pack and climbed the tree again. She should’ve let the bread fall. The ground might have gotten dented, but the bread would’ve been fine.

She sat on a limb for a long time, studying the area. Nothing moved near the lake except birds. She touched the knife at her side. She’d be fine. Gaar said it was safe here and she’d be alert and cautious just like he taught her. She should go now. It was better to do this in the daylight than later tonight. She shimmied down the tree.

There were paths that led to the lake. Most were overgrown with vegetation and barely visible, but some were still fighting the battle against the encroaching forest. She avoided the trails, traveling through the bushes and pausing often to listen. When she was sure it was safe, she stepped into the clearing surrounding the lake. She stopped on a hill a few feet from the water. The lake was brackish. She wrinkled her nose. She didn’t want to drink the briny stuff. She’d explore to see if she could find fresh water or fruit.

She spent over an hour walking less than halfway around the lake. It had been a complete waste of time. The only things in the area were the statues and up close they weren’t pretty. They were disturbing. There was one of a winged man, another of a woman with long, spindly legs, and several of children with snouts and claws. Almost every one of them was in a transition between Almighty and something else and none of the subjects looked happy about what they were becoming.

She flopped down on the grass near the lake. Her stomach rumbled. She ate a couple of pieces of dried fruit. She had no choice; she was going to have to get water from the lake. In order to make sure that it was safe to drink she had to either boil it or find a deep area that was circulating. Boiling would be best but she didn’t know how to start a fire without flint which meant she was going to have to enter the lake. She took a deep breath, stood and walked down the incline to the shoreline.

Dragonflies flitted across the surface. It was calm and serene on the top but there could be River-Men lurking below. The one she’d helped had been in the Elavital but the river fed into the lake. Plus, he wasn’t the only one of his kind. She didn’t want to encounter them anywhere, least of all in their environment. Maybe, if she had a weapon, like a spear. That was it! She didn’t have to go into water. She turned and hurried back into the forest.

After she found a piece of wood that was long enough but not too heavy for her, she went back to the lake and slid the strap of the canteen over the stick, wrapping it around several times so that it was unlikely to come loose. She uncapped the lid and then stretched the branch out over the water. It didn’t reach as far as she’d like, but it would have to do. She wasn’t going to wade into the lake. She lowered the branch and at first the bottle floated on top, but eventually, it dipped a little and began to fill. It was a slow process and her arms and back ached from the strain of holding it in place.

A twig snapped behind her. Something was in the brush. She began to pull the stick back. Then there was a squeak followed by a rustle in the bushes. Whatever was coming, it was heading her way. She could get water later. She dropped the branch, but she hadn’t pulled it far enough out of the lake. The half-full canteen dipped, filling with water and sinking. She needed her bottle. There was another squeak, closer this time. She had to go. Now. She would figure out the water situation later. She raced back into the forest. When she was concealed in the bushes, she stopped and glanced around. Nothing was following. She scurried up the nearest tree.

The rhythmic squeaking continued, growing louder. She crouched on a limb hidden in the leaves. An Almighty appeared on one of the clearer paths. He was in a chair with wheels. He maneuvered along, using his hands to turn the wheels. He stopped several feet away from her. He was young, only a few years older than her. He was slender with black hair and the bluish-white complexion of the Almightys, but his hairless skin had a golden undertone like he had been kissed by the sun. He was the most beautiful creature she’d ever seen.

He pulled a book out of the backpack hooked to his chair and began to read. She waited. He was engrossed in the story and wasn’t going anywhere soon, so neither was she. She hung her pack on a limb and stretched out along the branch. It was rumored that the Almightys were hairless except for their heads, unlike the other classes who all had a soft coating of hair covering their bodies. His arms and face were hairless, but what about the rest of him? She blushed and stared up at the sky. It was none of her business what he looked like without his shirt.

The bright sunlight filtered through the foliage, leaving her in mottled sunshine. As he read, she started to doze. A slight splash made her sit up. In the water, not far from the shoreline, the River-Man emerged. He floated with only the top of his head to his eyes visible. She glanced at the boy, but he must not have heard the noise because he hadn’t moved. She leaned against the trunk of the tree. There was no way she was going in that lake to retrieve her canteen. She’d starve first.

After a while, the Almighty put down the book and took something out of his pack. It was square and white. It looked like food of some sort. He pulled off the outer edges and threw them toward the lake. He missed. He wheeled the chair closer and tossed the rest of the pieces into the water.

The River-Man slid under the surface and reappeared closer to the boy.

She should warn him but she couldn’t. He was an Almighty. She bit her lip and scooted forward on the branch. Gaar said that the River-Men snatched creatures from the land and pulled them into the water. Was the boy close enough for the creature to get him?

He started to wheel the chair backward.

She let out her breath in a sigh of relief. Moving away from the lake was a good idea.

He looked down. She followed his gaze. The first part of the food that he’d thrown lay on the ground.

She shifted forward a bit more. Just leave it alone.

He leaned to pick it up but couldn’t quite reach it. He repositioned his chair. It now sat angled on a ravine that dipped toward the water. He shifted forward and to the right, but he must have miscalculated. The chair tipped and he fell, sliding down the hill and slipping into the water.

She jumped to a crouching position. She wanted to help him, but she couldn’t risk it. He’d be okay. He hadn’t fallen all the way into the lake, just his lower half. All he had to do was pull himself out of the water.

The River-Man submerged.

She couldn’t sit here and let the creature get him. She dropped out of the tree and raced to the water’s edge. He couldn’t turn her in if he didn’t really see her. It would only take a second to grab his hand and yank him ashore and then she’d disappear into the forest.

The boy grasped at the land but it was muddy and slippery. He grabbed a handful of weeds and began to haul himself out of the lake, but his weight was too much and the vegetation pulled free from the damp earth. He dug his fingers into the dirt, but his hands lost purchase. His blue gaze locked with hers right before he disappeared into the lake.

She fidgeted on the shore, but the boy didn’t come up for air. She did not want to enter that water. She glanced back at the forest. Gaar was going to kill her, if the River-Man didn’t get her first. She inhaled and jumped into the lake. It was deep and dark. She couldn’t see anything in the murky depths. The quicker she found him the sooner she could get out of here. She swam around. She needed air. She resurfaced and dove again. Where was he? Had the River-Man gotten him? Something big and slippery brushed past her, causing her to jerk backward and then the Almighty was in her arms. He grabbed ahold of her and she shot toward the surface, kicking with all her strength. He was heavier than he looked. Her ascent was slow with the added weight and her lungs burned with the need for oxygen. She pushed forward with one more kick and broke the surface. She drew in air and yanked his head out of the water. He clung to her, his arms encircling her neck, choking her.

“Around my chest. Hold me there,” she gasped.

He nodded, wrapping his arms around her waist.

She swam the few laps to the shoreline and dragged them both out of the water. Once on land he let go of her. She turned and grabbed him under the arms, yanking and pulling until they were both a few feet away from the lake. She should escape to the forest, but first she had to breathe. She collapsed on the ground next to him.

After several moments, he turned his head toward her. “Thanks.”

She pushed herself to a sitting position and scooted away, her legs and arms trembling.

He leaned up on his elbows. “Wait. I won’t hurt you.”

She stopped. There was something desperate in his tone.

“My name’s Jethro. What’s yours?” He brushed his wet, dark hair out of his eyes. “I promise, I won’t hurt you,” he repeated. “You saved my life. I owe you.”

His blue eyes were kind and she didn’t want to go. It’d been almost a year since she’d had a conversation with anyone her age, but she couldn’t tell him her name. “My friends call me Little One.” It was kind of true. Gaar and Mirra were sort of friends.

He smiled. It lit up his face, making him even more attractive. He glanced down her body and then quickly away. “They must be pretty big.” His faced reddened. “I mean you don’t look little to me. I…I mean, not little, little.”

She glared at him. The Producers had called her skinny and she hadn’t liked it. She liked being called large even less.

“I’m sorry.” His face fell. “I never say the right things around girls.” After a moment, he smiled again. “I have an idea. Let’s start over.”

Start over? Did he want her to kick him back into the lake? Right now, she’d be happy to do it. She stood, crossing her arms.

“Okay. Obviously, you don’t want to start again. How about we move on? What are you doing here? No one comes to the Lake of Sins but me.” He looked around. “Are you alone?”

He was asking too many questions. “I have to go.” She headed for the forest.

“Wait. I’m sorry. Again. I’m sorry.”

She was done with him. She had no business associating with an Almighty anyway, even if he was really cute.

“Please, can you get my chair?” he called out.

She stopped and turned around. His chair was by the water several feet away. He would have to drag himself over to it and that could take a while. Plus, the River-Man might come back and attack. She walked to the chair and sat it upright. She pushed it over to him and then stepped away.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

He pushed the lever to lock the wheels. “Can you lift me under the arms?” He averted his eyes.

She understood what it was like to be different but should she get that close? His face flushed pink. This beautiful Almighty was embarrassed. She stepped forward and half-lifted, half-dragged him into the chair.

“Thank you,” he said again, refusing to look at her. “My dad would kill me if he knew I was down here. I’m going to have to wait until I dry to go home.” He glanced at her. “Do you want to wait with me?”

She should run into the forest and hide, but she didn’t move. Would it be that dangerous to speak with him for a few moments? She nodded.

“Really? I’m mean, great. Let’s go over here. Away from the water.” He laughed.

It was a lovely sound, rich and deep. She could listen to it all day. She followed him over to a patch of sunlight near a large tree. He stopped and turned his chair to face the lake. She stayed a few feet away from him and sat, half-facing the water and half-facing him.

“So, what are you doing out here?”

She didn’t answer. The less she told him the better.

“Okay. You don’t want to talk. That’s a change from most girls I know.” He snickered at his joke.

She raised an eyebrow. It seemed boys from any class could be idiots. She readjusted her position to get a better view of him. He was really good looking, but she couldn’t just stare at him until they dried. He was bound to ask more questions about her and then she would have to leave, or she could point the conversation back to him. “Why are you here?”

“It’s my favorite place. It’s untamed. Wild. I used to be like that.” He looked down at his legs.

“What happened?” In her camp there had been a little girl whose legs were malformed at birth. Her father had made a conveyance for her similar to the chair the boy was in, but the Lead Producers had reported her and the Almightys had come and taken her away.

He shrugged. “I was young and stupid. I was out exploring with my Guards. I climbed a tree and fell. I landed on my back. Since then I’ve been unable to walk.”

She jumped up. She was an idiot. Of course, he wasn’t alone.

“What’s wrong?” He glanced around.

“Where are your Guards?”

“What? Oh, I don’t have them anymore.” There was sadness in his tone.

She sat back down. She was glad that there weren’t any Guards around, but maybe he should have some. He would have died if she hadn’t been here today. “Wouldn’t it be safer if you had them with you?”

“For me, yes. But not for them.”

“I don’t understand.”

He stared past her at the lake, his face hardening with anger. “My dad can be a Grunt’s ass. He blamed them for my accident and had them killed.”

His father sounded like an Almighty that she did not want to meet. She stood again. “I’ve got to go.”

“Don’t. Please stay.” He wheeled closer to her. “I like talking to you.” He hesitated. “I don’t have a lot of friends. We can talk about something else. Anything. You name it.”

He was lonely and she wasn’t ready to go back to her tree. Night would come soon enough. She crouched. “What is this place? Why are these statues here?”

“You picked a good topic.” He reached into his backpack and pulled out a bag and two bottles of water. He took a couple of items from the bag and handed it and a water bottle to her. He took a bite out of one. “Cookies. Chocolate chip are my favorite.”

Thank Araldo, she now had water. Later, she’d figure out a way to keep the bottle. She took a cookie and studied it. She wasn’t sure what it was but he was eating it and it smelled good. She took a small bite. The sweetness was like nothing she had tasted before. She licked her lips and shoved the rest of it in her mouth.

“Many believe that this place is haunted.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “The tale begins hundreds of years ago, after the Great Death. A family, consisting of a mother, father and two boys, lived here. The elder boy, Christian, was mighty and strong. The younger one, Harold, was sickly and weak.”

She glanced at his legs and then quickly back at his face. He was watching her, his eyes sad. She wanted to apologize but that would make it worse. She looked down at the bag of cookies.

He continued with only a slight hesitation. “Even though the brothers were very different they were basically a happy family. Christian spent his days outdoors hunting and fishing and Harold occupied his time with books. He read everything that he could get his hands on. Even”—he paused and lean closer to her—“books on the black arts.” He whispered the last part.

“No,” she said around a mouthful of cookie. These things were fabulous.

“Yes, but more about that later.”

She frowned. She wanted to hear about that now.

“One day the Great Death arrived and took the lives of their mother, father and neighbors. The world became a harder place and did not have much sympathy for a sickly boy with a love of learning.

“Christian, on the other hand, thrived. He spent his time working the earth and hunting the small forest creatures that managed to survive the Great Death.”

“Why didn’t the small animals die too?” She’d never been able to find an answer to that in any of the books that her dad had brought to her.

“I don’t know. Maybe because they had a lot of babies whereas the larger animals only have a few at a time.” He held out his hand for a cookie.

“That makes sense. More babies, more chance of survival.” The bag was getting empty. She handed him one.

“Just one?” he teased.

She handed him two more and then took a sip of her water before shoving another cookie in her mouth.

“Glad to hear you agree, but back to the story. Harold could not hunt nor work the earth so he tried to contribute by applying the knowledge that he had to make their lives easier.” He grimaced. “It didn’t work so well. Everything he tried backfired. He invented a machine to clean their drinking water so that they wouldn’t get sick from it and Christian took ill after the very first cup.”

“Why didn’t they just get their water from an area where it’s running strong?” she asked.

“Why would that matter?”

She frowned at him. Was he joking? “The bad stuff can’t grow in fast running water. Didn’t you know that?”

He puffed out his chest. “Of course, I did.”

She shook her head, fighting back a smile. “No, you didn’t.” She ate the last cookie and handed the empty bag back to him. She took another sip of her water and slipped the bottle behind some weeds. She should ask if she could keep it, but she couldn’t risk him saying no.

He stuffed the bag into his backpack, glancing at where she’d hidden the bottle. “I could go on with other mistakes that Harold made but daylight is disappearing so I’ll jump ahead.”

The shadows of the forest stretched and joined forces, consuming the lingering spots of sunlight. She wasn’t looking forward to being out here alone in the dark. The place was creepy. She let his voice draw her away from her worries.

“Everything would have probably been fine except a woman entered their lives.” He looked over at her. “That is always a bad thing in a story. One woman, two men.”

What was wrong with that? Her father stopped by a lot but so did Remy. He had to keep up appearances. “It can work sometimes.”

He shook his head and laughed. “No, it can’t. You’re just too young to understand.”

“I am not.” She was older than anyone knew. “My family is like that and we’re fine.”

His voice quieted. “Really? You’re alone in the woods.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but what was the point. He was right. If Remy were her father she wouldn’t be out here. She’d be like everyone else. “Continue with the story, or I have to go,” she snapped and then looked away, embarrassed. It wasn’t his fault her life was a mess.

“Okay. Continuing. The woman, Heather, had been a childhood friend of Harold’s. She’d gone away to school and had made her way back after the Great Death to see if her parents had survived.” He shook his head sadly. “They had not. She traveled to her nearest neighbor, Christian and Harold. They were excited to see another living person. They welcomed her into their house.

“At first everything was good. The brothers seemed to get along better and some of Harold’s experiments even worked. But, unfortunately, as with all of these stories, both men fell in love with Heather. She, of course, could only love one.”

“Why?” Her mom loved her dad and Remy.

He sighed dramatically. “You are so young.”

“No, I’m not. I’m almost seventeen.” She refused to dwell on why it was important that he think of her as an adult.

“You’re still naive.” He drummed his fingers on his thigh. “How can I put this? Women and men can love many people in many different ways but both can only love one in the way that matters most.”

Now she was more confused. “What does that mean?”

He rolled his eyes. “Heather could only marry one.”

“What is marry?” It was nice that he didn’t seem to mind all her questions. She’d always been curious and it usually annoyed others.

He dropped his head in his hands, his face turning red. “It is not my job to tell you this stuff.”

“Tell me what?”

“They wanted to have children together,” he blurted, still covering his face with his hands.

“Oh. Marry equals mate.” She paused. “She could have mated with both.”

His hands slid down to his mouth, as he looked at her, eyes wide.

“Well, they could. It happens a lot where I come from. I mean we’re assigned one mate but if that doesn’t take then we’re paired with another.”

“Holy Araldo! You can’t go back there.”

“Don’t worry. It won’t happen to me.” She wasn’t good enough to be paired.

“Oh. Okay. Good.” He took a deep breath and cast a furtive glance at her. "Let’s get back to the story. Christian and Heather married and the three lived together. At first, Harold hid his pain because he loved Heather so much that he just wanted her to be happy. Then when she became pregnant, Harold spent more and more time with his experiments. He began to dabble in things that should be left in Araldo’s hands.”

“Like what?” She moved a little closer to him. Here was the black magic stuff.

He leaned toward her. “Like trying to make new creatures by combining the old. He tried surgeries first but none of his subjects lasted long. He did evil things. Like once he took the tail from a squirrel and added it to a small bird. And the legs of a crow to a squirrel.”

“Ewww,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

“Ewww indeed, but you need to stop interrupting or I’ll never finish.”

She nodded and wrapped her arms around her knees. The shadows had stolen the last patch of sunlight from where they sat.

“Heather’s time came and she delivered a girl. Sadly, when the child entered the world, the mother exited. Christian buried Heather right here.”

“At the bottom of the lake?”

He cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Sorry.” It was hard not to ask questions.

“At the time, there was no water here. After he buried Heather, Christian submerged himself in his sadness. For many months, he sat out here day and night weeping. Even his newborn daughter could not rouse him from his sorrow. Harold named her Theresa after their mother and cared for her as if she were his own.

“After a couple of years, Christian managed to pull himself out of his quicksand of despair and he, Harold and Theresa became a close family. Theresa, as is only natural, was drawn more and more toward her father. She liked to do what he did and was quite skilled in physical abilities.

“Then there came a large and terrible storm that lasted several days. They had to stay indoors in close confines. Harold witnessed the child that he loved turn toward her father just like her mother had done. Jealousy churned heavy in his heart.

“As soon as the storm ended, Christian left to check on the crops and hunt. Harold took Theresa for a walk. This area had filled with rain. Harold carried Theresa into the lake to play. At first, she was frightened but he showed her that the water could be fun. After a while, it was time to go back inside. Theresa wanted to stay. She threw a fit and yelled that she hated him. She wanted her father. Harold felt the old pain from Heather’s rejection again. He turned and walked away, leaving the little girl by the lake.

“When Christian returned, Harold lied and told him that he had put Theresa down for a nap. When dinner was ready, Christian went to wake her and realized that she wasn’t in her room. The brothers began to look for her. Harold pretended to search the house while Christian scoured the grounds, staying out all night. The next morning he found her in the lake.”

“Was she okay?” She bit her lip. She didn’t have a good feeling about this.

He shook his head. “She was dead.”

“No.” She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. It was silly to cry over a story, but the tears came anyway. Theresa had been a baby just like Adam.

“Christian buried her over there.” He pointed to a statue of a little girl with a butterfly on her hand. “Then, once again, he began to haunt this place, walking and weeping over all he had lost.

“Harold was devastated and filled with guilt. He realized, too late, that his love for Theresa outweighed his jealousy. He convinced himself that this was all Christian’s fault. His longtime resentment of his brother fueled by his guilt over Theresa heated into hatred and he began to work on a very special experiment.”

She started to ask a question. He stopped speaking and cocked an eyebrow in her direction. She clamped her mouth shut. He grinned and continued with the story.

“A few years after Theresa’s death, Christian pulled himself out of his despondency and decided that he was going to leave. There was nothing but sad memories left for him here and he was done with sorrow. That night, on the anniversary of Theresa’s death, Christian told Harold his plans.

“At first, Harold was elated. He hated Christian and would be glad to see him leave, but then he started thinking why should Christian get to start over? He already had Heather’s love and Theresa’s. What did Harold have? Harold had nothing, nothing but his brother. Harold begged his brother not to leave but Christian was insistent. He pleaded with Christian to let him come along, but Christian wanted nothing to remind him of his past. So, Harold changed his tactics and convinced his brother to stay one more day.

“Harold worked all night on a special dinner. After they ate, he convinced Christian to walk with him down by the lake, to say a last farewell to Theresa and Heather. As they neared the lake, Christian began to sweat.” He leaned closer to her and spoke in a hushed tone. “His skin began to get clammy. He started to gasp for air. Harold, pretending to help, hurried Christian closer to the lake. When they were close enough he shoved his brother into the water.”

He finished in a loud voice and she jumped. He chuckled. She glared at him and then smiled. The best thing about these types of stories was the scare. He stared at her for several moments. Did she have food on her face? Her smiled faded. He blinked a couple of times and quickly looked away.

“Anyway, Christian tried to pull himself out of the lake but he had cried so many tears that the water wanted him and dragged him back into its depths.”

She was unable to keep quiet one more second. “Did he drown?”

He shook his head. “No. Once under water Christian realized that he could breath, but with each breath his body changed a little. First, gills broke out in slits along his throat. Then his hands and feet began to change. They became webbed like flippers. His skin took on a silver hue and scales appeared.”

“He turned into a fish,” she said.

“Not exactly. He was still an Almighty but also a fish.”

“What did Harold do?” she asked eagerly.

“At first, Harold thought that his brother had drowned, but then there were signs that something haunted the lake. Something not quite fish and not quite man. Harold realized that his potion had worked. Christian would be forced to stay there forever, alone in the lake.”

“One day when Harold was at the lake, Christian allowed his brother to see him. Harold laughed and said that the mighty Christian could now be caught in a net or on a fishing line. No female would ever choose Christian over Harold again. Harold left the lake promising to visit on a regular basis.” He stopped and looked at her.

“That’s the end? Harold won. That’s not a very good story.”

“Not all evil is punished,” he said and shrugged.

He was right and that made her sad. “No. I guess not, but…”

He winked at her. “I’m not finished.”

“Oh. Sorry.” She smiled sheepishly at him. She’d seen a male Producer wink at Clarabelle once and Clarabelle had told him to quit flirting. If Jethro was flirting, she wouldn’t tell him to stop.

“What Harold didn’t realize was that Christian was not entirely stuck in the water. He had gills but also still had lungs. Late one evening when the moon was full, Christian crept into the house and snuck into Harold’s bed chamber. Harold slept soundly, peacefully until Christian began to choke him. Harold woke and fought back. They struggled and Harold escaped Christian’s hold and raced to his laboratory. Christian chased after him.

“Inside the lab, Harold attacked. He jumped on his brother and tried to pour the contents of a vial over Christian’s head. Christian overpowered Harold and smashed the container on his brother’s skull. Harold screamed and smoke poured from his body where the liquid from the bottle touched him. He shoved away from Christian and ran outside and down to the water. The elixir burned like fire and he jumped into the lake. The potion reacted with the water, especially the tears from Christian, and Harold felt his body changing.”

“What did he turn into?” She leaned closer to him.

“He became slippery and he started to stretch. He realized that he no longer needed to breathe. His skin turned green and branched out into thousands of strands. He became the lake grass. To this day, fishermen tell of fish being found entangled in the seaweed and drowned. It is Harold, still trying to catch his brother and kill him.”

Should she tell him about the River-Man? He probably already knew since he came down here a lot. “I saw Christian.”

He laughed. “It’s just an old story.”

She shook her head and stared at the lake. “No. I saw him. Before, in the forest and then again today. He was in the water when you fell in, waiting.”

“You saw a fish. The lake is full of them.”

“No. It was Christian. Well, it was a River-Man. You should stay away from the lake. It’s not safe.”

“Now, you sound like my mother.” The wind picked up and he shivered. “It’s getting late. I should go home. My clothes are dry enough now. Do you have somewhere to stay?”

She stood and nodded. Yeah, in a tree.

“Where?” he asked, concern clear in his blue eyes.

She looked down at her feet but didn’t respond. She couldn’t tell him. He’d think she was weird.

“You can stay with me.” His face turned red. “Not with me, with me. I mean, I could sneak you into the house or you could stay outside in our shed.”

She shook her head and started to back away. She couldn’t leave with him. He was an Almighty. “I’ve got to go.” She turned and headed toward the forest.

“Wait,” he called out. “Will you be here tomorrow?”

She halted, her ears tilted back to catch his muffled words. The loneliness in his voice called to her. She turned around. He flashed a smile that lit up his face and almost stole her breath. She glanced away. She couldn’t let him see how he made her feel. Clarabelle would never have told Randy to pretend to like her if they hadn’t known she had a crush on him. Jethro seemed kinder than they were, but she didn’t want to take the chance. She looked back at him, composed. “No.”

His face fell. “Oh. Okay.”

She should go, but she didn’t move. Tomorrow would be a long, lonely day if Mirra didn’t come back. “I might be able to stick around for another day. I’m not sure, but maybe.”

“Really?” He grinned again. “I’ll come by just in case. I’ll bring some more cookies. I can tell you about any of the statues. They all have stories.” He glanced around as if not wanting to be overheard and lowered his voice. “Some even say that the spirts of the statues haunt the secret passages that are all over this place.”

“Secret passages?” She couldn’t disguise the interest in her voice.

“Tunnels. I’ve never found any but we could look tomorrow.” His eyes were hopeful.

She was a fool. He was an Almighty. It wasn’t too late. She should end their friendship now but she couldn’t get the words passed her lips. She walked into the brush. Once she was out of sight she extended her claws and jumped onto a tree. She climbed up to the nearest limb and peeked through the leaves to get another glimpse of the beautiful, Almighty boy.

Jethro sat for a moment, staring at the where she’d disappeared. He turned his chair around and wheeled down the path back the way he had come. There was a splash and Christian’s head popped out of the lake. He looked up into the trees, his eyes locking with hers and then he disappeared under the water.