No noise warned Myra. No tell tail creek of a floor board or a door opening. One moment she was dreaming nonsense, random images and the next someone grabbed her hands, bound them together and proceeded to haul her away.

Still groggy with sleep, Myra let out a yelp, kicking her legs and trying to wrench her hands free. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered what Summer had said about the wards. Shouldn't they have kept this guy out?

In seconds, enough adrenaline had pumped into Myra’s bloodstream to wake her fully. She screamed and kicked for all she was worth, trying to drag the person down with her. If she could keep him down for just a minute, maybe someone would rush in and help her or she could aim her kicks at his head.

Whoever it was either was just that much stronger than Myra or had experience with the strategy. Holding the rope that bound her hands, the attacker yanked her in close and simply picked her up, heedless of the strikes and weight pulling away from him.

He grabbed a cloth out of his pocket and shoved it into Myra’s mouth so deep she gagged. Her cries were abruptly cut off.

Despite her continued attempts to break free, he hauled her into the common room. With a free hand, he made a few swirls in the air. A breeze flowed over the room and a soft light filtered in.

Myra heard a thump from the other side of the rooms and they were suddenly in another world.

In ten seconds flat, someone had broken into her room despite her friends' countermeasures, subdued her, and kidnapped her to a place she couldn't escape from alone.

Myra had to have been taken to Faery. Nathan hadn't been able to explain much to her, but he covered portals and had taken her through one to get to the party and once before that. The only thing she remembered was how Faery felt slightly different in the same way one would feel different in a foreign country but here one couldn't just get home with a plane ticket and passport.

Faery was completely alien to Myra. She had only felt a smidgen of comfort before because Nathan and then Summer had been with her. Now there was no one. She had no idea how to get home or even the faintest idea of where she was. Not only that, anyone who happened upon her, even if she hadn't been kidnapped here, would have vast advantages over her. If she had fae powers at all, she had little formal training in them. A few hypothetical conversations with Nathan about magic and how faeries could use it and a few lessons on not using magic when she didn't want to hardly constitute training. A small few spells that had managed to make it rain at home would hardly help either. Even if Myra had already begun formal training, it would take years before she was able to use magic to defend herself against even a moderately weak faery. Against the upper class, she wouldn't have a prayer.

Illa and Summer, and probably Nathan, too, had to have been attacked in some way as well. The thump Myra heard was probably part of it.

Her chances looked beyond slim, but she had to try something. She couldn't let someone just kidnap her. There's no telling what would happen. Faeries were an unpredictable lot, from what Nathan had said. Not only that, but faeries could also be cruel. Unseelie, Winter faeries weren't necessarily evil, according to Nathan, but that didn't mean the Seelie, Summer faeries, were necessarily good. It could just just be between freezing or burning to death. And Myra had no idea who she was dealing with.

Myra’s captor hasn't bothered blindfolding her. Odds were, he knew she wouldn't be able to find her home regardless.

They came out somewhere in an open field of rolling hills with a few trees and bright moonlight. No buildings or other people, fae or otherwise, were there. Before Myra could get a better look, she was yanked in one direction. She struggled against his stride, but ended up practically taking running steps every few feet. It was either that or let herself be dragged along.

Now that Myra could actually see him, her captor looked kind of like a stereotypical troll. He didn't feel anywhere near that big in her room. It had to be a glamour, though Myra had no idea how a glamour would affect one’s actual mass. It's just an illusion, right? Either way, now he had green tinted skin, massive everything, and a stench that would give garbage dumps a run for their money. One of his hands easily encompassed both of hers and he was at least twice as tall as Myra and twice as wide as a normal human man. Myra couldn't see his face, given that he was dragging her behind him, but from his gnarled hands, it was probably lumpy. Trolls were the thugs of Faery and he probably had scars to prove it.

The day before the party, Nathan had been giving Myra an overview of major types of fae. If a troll kidnapped her, he had to be taking her to one of the sidhe, the lords and ladies of Faery.

That couldn't be good at all.

Myra redoubled her efforts, screaming again for all she was worth. She didn't think anyone was around and if they were they probably weren't going to help her, but she was freaking scared! Faeries take to magic like a rich girl with Daddy's credit card takes to shopping: gleefully, without mercy, and without restraint.

In a sudden desperate move, Myra wrenched her arms toward herself and bit the troll. A pendant from her charm bracelet touched his skin.

The troll bellowed in tortured, but brief, agony. The ground shook under Myra’s feet.

Myra took her opportunity and yanked away from him with all her strength. The rope slipped a few inches. She sprang away, all of her track training coming into play, and in two bounds reached full sprint. Against anyone else, she would have been long gone, but the troll recovered.

He renewed his grip on the rope and in Myra’s sprinting strides, flung her to the ground. She shrieked, the sound cutting off short and her vision went black for a second.

When it came back, a big, ugly troll face loomed in front of her. He growled. Trolls weren't known for their vocabulary. Spit flew to her face and Myra jerked back.

Pure terror seized her. If Myra thought she was scared before, it was nothing compared to how she felt now.

On some instinct Myra never knew she had, her hand reached out of its own accord, swirling into a gesture that reminded her of telling someone to back off. Myra’s fear raced down her arm, through her hand, and into that gesture.

The troll suddenly flew back a couple feet, roaring again. The ground shook even more this time and Myra with it, but she still had the presence of mind to sprint away again. Trolls, according to Nathan, could be very fast, but they took some time to build up speed. People who ran for sport not so much.

Myra was at least thirty feet away by the time he recovered and well into her longest strides and fastest sprint. He would be able to catch her if she tried to simply outrun him. She had to find shelter and now.

But everywhere Myra looked she only saw the rolling hills and the occasional tree. Nowhere near enough options to hide from anyone, let alone a creature whose commands the very earth would obey.

Fear had leached back into her the second she had turned to run and now it forced her to look back. The troll was only a few yards behind. Myra shrieked once more in pure terror, the sound high and piercing.

For a second, she thought she heard someone's questioning voice.

Another below shook the ground.

Myra ran down one more hill, desperately hoping there would be somewhere to hide that she just couldn't see because of the sloping ground.

The ground shook again, only a little differently this time. On reflex, Myra bounded forward.

A huge troll hand grabbed her ankle. The troll had leaped at her and the ground had shook when he landed. At the same time, someone else grasped Myra’s hand. In a voice and language she’d never heard, someone murmured something filled with such power that her body tingled just by being near. The new person's speech was filled with such melody and splendor that she couldn't help but be mesmerized for a second.

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The words must have been speech and spell because the troll growled again, only with detectable syllables and his own electric power. The troll's speech was much less melodious and more rage. He yanked on Myra harder. She screamed and the other faery leaned with the troll just a little.

Myra’s possible savior spoke again with even more force this time. The troll growled back, but let his grip go slack.

At the sudden release, Myra flung forward and toppled herself and the fae.

The troll let out one last growl as if saying, "this isn't over" and simply disappeared without looking like he opened a portal at all. Turning to look at the last second, Myra guessed within Faery traveling by magic was easier than traveling to Faery. Either that or trolls were more magically powerful than Nathan had given them credit for.

Myra picked herself up, immediately apologizing and thanking the person she fell on. She didn't trust him at all, but the words just poured from her mouth.

Myra could see the person properly now. He was gorgeous, literally the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. He was only a little taller than her which made him on the short side for a man, but from what she knew, kind of average for a fae. Even without motion, he showed more grace than Olympic medalists. His complexion and features were a perfect blend of sharp lines and smoothness. His ears were lightly pointed and he wore long, flowing robes of deep emerald one would expect out of a RPG. Impossibly serene and all knowing eyes calmly accepted Myra’s scrutiny. They were canted like some girls use eyeliner to give themselves the illusion of slammed eyes, only this was no illusion. Unless it was glamour, a voice in the back of Myra's head said.

He still held Myra’s hand. His skin was smoother than one would expect for someone who lived in the wild, but then, he was a fae. He had to be if he was here. They would be accustomed to living out in the middle of nowhere and would have ways of keeping themselves well kept. From what Myra knew of Nathan and his 'better than you' attitude, she wouldn't think a noble would let himself develop calluses. Myra had no doubt he was a noble or at least very close to one. He probably had a mansion under the grass.

"Forgive me for seizing thy person so roughly. Hadst thou not attracted a troll's attention, I would have introduced myself properly." He spoke perfect English with a soft British accent and a lilt Myra had never heard before. And there was something of an accusation in his voice.

Part of Myra broiled, but she held it back. It wasn’t her fault the troll had dragged her out here, but it wouldn't do well to insult the person who saved her even if she felt a tinge of insult under her fear.

Myra took a slow, deep, humming breath and decided to emulate him instead. When in Rome, right?

"Forgive me for intruding on your evening. Had I the chance, I would have met you properly."

"Young and polite." The lord chuckled. "Perhaps thou wouldst consider an arrangement of servitude to repay thine debt."

"Perhaps we could come to a different arrangement. I am already in service of another." Not really a lie. Myra did owe it to her friends to return and she owed Nathan for his lessons and help, however sparse and honestly unhelpful they had been. She was furious with him for getting her caught up in what amounted to human trafficking, but he hadn't done anything she didn't ask him to. Myra held at least a little part of the blame.

"Truly a shame. I would have enjoyed thine services. Ah, well. I'm sure other chances will present themselves. Answer me a question." He paused, considering. "Who art thou?"

Now, one would think that's a simple question, but around the fae identity was huge and guarded. Nathan had told Myra he didn't even know everything about his own family history or all of their magical strengths and weaknesses. Knowledge, especially personal secrets, was considered more valuable than gold. And rightfully so. When one lived as the fae do, material possessions just didn't mean much.

They had to be cunning, ruthless, and above all observant to a fault. One could never be sure who was moving to knock one out of position. It was like kings and castles with magic that was every bit as mutable as thought.

How Myra responded could give him reason to imprison her himself or reason to help her find her way home.

Oddly enough with someone she didn't know and had no reason to trust, Myra replied truthfully. "I don't know."

He gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment as if ascertaining the truth of her statement. He nodded slowly. "And wise. There are those even younger than thou who have certainty of their identities. With constant change, how can one be sure? Especially in thine case.”

Myra flashed back to what Nathan had said before about the magical puberty. How could he know? Was it like being able to tell when a boy's voice cracked?

The fae had continued talking. “-and to call up kinetic force to throw the troll. That was more than I have seen a halfling capable of with a score of years past thee. Perhaps thee would consider partial servitude in return for lessons? Only a few years and more power would be at thine call than thee could imagine. I would naturally put thine skills to use for mine own projects as well.”

Myra started to shake her head instantly no, but paused. Maybe with just a little more practice and knowledge she would be able to keep people away. She could go back to living a, relatively, normal life and not have to worry about any of this. Myra couldn't handle being in this world much longer. Only a couple days of it and she had been sold into slavery, kidnapped, and terrified of basically the entirety of them. How would she handle years? Maybe she could haggle him down to just a few months. Summer break was only three months away. Surely, that would be enough time to learn offensive magic and – what was she thinking?

She’d run right into a totally new world and thought she would be just fine. An innocent idea, attending a party and asking some questions, had turned into one of the worst decisions of her life. Agreeing to spend even three months here would be three months way too long. Besides, what would she tell her mom? There was no way her mom would agree to let her do this. The only time Myra had ever expressed interest in magic, her mom had whisked her out of the bookstore and they’d never gone back. And that was just a history book on the theories of magic. More of a pagan religious book than anything. Myra could just imagine her mom locking her away in a tower where a prince would have to come save her before she would let her stay in Faerie. If that even was where she was. Myra was still holding onto the hope that all of this was some hallucination or her friends were playing a practical joke on her.

Everything led her to the contrary, but hey, if it was possible that magic and faeries and another freaking dimension existed, then it was much more possible that she was delusional about the whole thing and would come out of all of this in a hospital.

Just to be sure, Myra pinched her left arm. Nothing. Not that she really thought it would work.

“No,” she told the fae. “Power is what got me into trouble in the first place. If people don't know I exist, then they'll have no reason to try to hurt me. I'll be fine hiding under a rock.” Myra glanced at his hobbit hole and suppressed a smile.

“Very well. If that is thine wish.”

“It is.” She reaffirmed. “Now, do you think you could tell me how to get out of here?”

The fae laughed. “Refuse mine offer of apprenticeship and ask for favor? Thou art more human than fae. However, since thee hast given me entertainment, I shall bestow thee a measure of assistance. Through those trees there, thou willt find a thin patch of the barrier. But think upon thy home stronger than thee hast ever before and thou shall be there when thine eyes open.” He pointed to three trees clumped together. His voice grew hard. "Before thine departure, I pray thee retrieve thy bane."

"Bane?" Myra asked, forgetting to mimic him. Before he could respond, she remembered. Her charm bracelet had fallen off. She differently felt its absence on her wrist. Iron in any form in Faery was not tolerated. It'd be like someone leaving bio hazard waste in a neighbor’s backyard.

Myra searched the grass for it fruitlessly. She wouldn't be able to spot a tiny piece of metal with this lighting in the thick grass.

Realizing, the fae man turned her and pointed to where the troll had been when the charm made contact with his flesh. A tiny glint sparkled in the moonlight.

Myra jogged over, snatched it up, and hissed. It fell through her fingers. The fae wandered over to her.

"Mayhaps thou art more fae than human." He mussed. "Still you must bare it forth."

More carefully this time, she picked it up with just her fingernails and dropped it in her pocket.

"Now onward, before I decide a claim on thee." He urged her in a playful voice.

Being out here, he probably had few visitors. She’d probably given him more entertainment than he'd had in weeks.

Myra turned to the trees. Despite being in the middle of a relatively bare field, they looked like they had vines growing on them. Thick, tall grasses sprouted next to the trunks. They were like something straight out of a faery tale forest. The trees were taller than any others Myra saw, far denser and somehow inviting.

She nodded her thanks and headed for them. As she grew closer, she felt comforted as if coming into her bedroom, soft and cozy, after a long track meeting. Tension that she didn't realize was knotting her shoulders eased and her breathing slowed. As if on instinct, Myra reached the middle of the little grove and touched each tree: a hand for two of them and her back against the third. She thought of her rooms at the school dormitories, picturing the colors of her things, the other girls sound asleep in their beds, a couple of them snoring. Myra imagined herself shuffling back from the bathroom, returning to her bed. She imagined the lingering scent of popcorn long since eaten and the scent of fresh breezes blowing through open windows. She remembered the feeling of the carpet under her bare feet and the light minty taste mouthwash always seemed to leave in her mouth even hours after she'd spat it out.

She focused on each of these things as a picture that she could step into and would start moving the moment she did. The rooms began to come into a clear image. Night lights gleamed, making sure no one killed themselves trying to pee and Myra really did hear one of the girls softly snoring away. She grinned. Maybe magic could come easily.

Frowning suddenly, she thought that might not be the best thing if she wanted to remain unnoticed.

Without warning, every last detail that Myra had imagined stripped from her mind like a dream one just couldn't remember.

New images assaulted her. She was alone. Her hands were bound and rope cut painfully into her wrists. The scent of troll and mildew rolled over her, filling her mouth with taste, the way only truly horrible smells can. A figure came into view, small, brightly dressed and laughing cruelly.