The library spire looms before us, gleaming as rain comes from the heavens, soaking through my tunic and short hair. Most are smarter than us, actually staying indoors or clustering under inn and store overhangs until the downpour dissipates.

We aren't so smart, Ran picks through on her hooves and slipping a few times when she finds them more... precarious than her typical paws.

Sir Hans' blue roan flicks his ears at us and glares at the rain for daring to slick his mane.

The rain matches my mood as the pain in my heart grows. Something has to give. Whether it’s my nonexistent but still somewhat reliable farce of sanity or the Spark inside me, I don’t wish to guess. I doubt the Spark is going anywhere, even if I could wish it away. So that leaves my sanity. Which I’m still unsure if I have left, but any still there is fighting against the Spark for dominance.

Hans knocks on the hidden entrance door, weathering the downpour with me. His stallion looks markedly more ill, glaring at the skies and snorting with pinned ears.

I enter and give a small smile to the little orb lighting our way. Larich spurts a burst of welcoming warm golden light, then turns a shade of cheery yellow.

He bobs ahead, leading us from the damp, dreary tunnels to the empty throne room, then beyond. The place seems designed for humans, as the size is big enough to hold Hans' massive figure, but I’m unsure of its origin or who made it. It's old, that's for sure. There are markings on the wall with golden lettering that seem much older than any of our current texts. It's too swirly than our straight block letters, with many more dots and almost pictures. I could study it for hours, but Larich is leaving us behind.

Ran stops at an arch, flicking her ears and wagging her tail. Her tongue pants from her mouth in a happy smile, and I peek in the archway to see a dog and her squawking puppies cuddled before a gently glowing fire. No one else seems to be in the room.

I smile at my bond.

"Go."

She flicks an ear back at my voice, then gives me a slobbery kiss before darting through the doorway and easing up to the growling dog who stands before her pups, protecting them.

Ran doesn't pay her threat any mind, gallivanting up to the dog who is a tenth of her size and laying down to lick the mother's black snout. A little bark comes from Ran, and the mother looks highly confused, some of the ruff around her neck flattening as she feels no threat from Ran, despite her size.

Ran crawls over to the pups, who can't be more than four or five weeks old, and before long, I know the little things will clamber all over her in a puppy pile.

I leave the dumbfounded mother dog and Ran behind, knowing she'll be just fine. Ever since she lost her pack, dogs and regular wolves became the only time she can socialize with a similar kind. She loves it, which makes me happy.

The ways Larich leads us through are both strange and familiar.

We pass doors of plain pine wood, and then we pass a gilded gold door in the same passageway. There are spider webbing areas we come to that branch off into seemingly endless voids, and one bright stone archway that led into a garden. Yes. A garden. How in the world there’s a garden in this underground maze is beyond me.

At last, we enter a bright and welcoming park-like area with a round pagoda. It reminds me of a smaller version of the garden we passed, but instead of daylight, it's the blue and silvery tones of night. Up above are tiny shining lights, similar to the stars and constellations I learned from my studies long ago.

There are lights of rose gold, amber, jasmine, and many others that hint of one color before swirling to the next.

Below the—stars—the cobblestone walkway meanders between small, squat trees who reach up with weary branches and spiky leaves. The grasses underneath the trees are a light emerald green, and sway with a song I can’t hear and a wind I can’t feel. It reminds me of the Eldertrees. It almost seems as if green was supposed to be this color all along... I just never knew it.

A few flowers sway with the grass. They remind me of daisies but are a soft sapphire.

It's like I’ve stepped into another world.

Something tackles me. I land on my back with an oomph.

Laughter lights up the room even better than the stars above, and I look down to see the little pink sprite who gave up so much to see us both free. Natasha.

There are tears in her eyes as she smiles up at me. That gaze moves what little hope I haven’t buried throughout my soul.

"They are there," she says, joy lighting her eyes.

I blink owlishly, the words slow to penetrate my brain. My heart gives a painful thump, and I clutch it. “I didn't dream it? I truly found them?” I whisper hoarsely, almost not daring to hope.

She nods, a crystalline tear falling down her fair cheek and into my chest.

I set my head back against the dirt the little one knocked me on and heave a broken breath.

“Come, get off your poor human.” The queen tugs delicately on Natasha’s pink silken wings. Natasha pouts but reluctantly gets off. I sit up, rubbing my lower back. The queen turns back to me. “As you might have surmised, your family is there. They are cloaked in magic, which is why you could not sense them with your Gift.”

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“Alive?” I can only seem to get out one word questions as my brain waits to catch up.

“For now,” the king says in a slightly bored tone.

The queen gives him a Look from where she is coaxing her daughter to give me some more space. Natasha clings to my knee.

The king hums and buffs his nails on his shirt. Somehow, even his nails shimmer with golden light.

“You’ll have to ignore him. They are alive. We’re doing everything in our power to get them in a position for rescue,” the queen says gently.

Hans gives a short nod, making me believe he was already privy to this information.

“How long?” I ask.

The queen puts both her tiny hands on either side of my face, forcing me to look into her swirling silver eyes. “Soon. But not as soon as you’d wish. The magic barrier surrounding them is going to take some time to vanquish without arousing suspicion.”

“How long?” I repeat, a little more forcefully than may be advisable, considering I’m talking to a queen.

She doesn’t seem to notice. “A week, possibly two. The barrier is volatile. One wrong move and everyone inside would not survive.”

With a force of will, I shove back tears. I’m tired of crying. I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of lying about who and what I am. I’m tired of living. But I won’t give up until they are safe.

No more tears. No more weaknesses. I will fight to my last breath to see them free. And until then, I will be strong.

I look up at the queen with fire burning in my eyes. I nod against her hand, and she watches me for another moment before releasing me.

“Is there anyway I can help remove it?” I ask.

“NO!” the king finally adds, forcefully. Rude. The queen gives an exasperated huff.

“Why?” I ask with anger swirling in me at the impertinent king.

“It’s too delicate for someone with little to no experience. I’m sorry, but you will have to trust us on this,” the queen says softly, but with a tone that brooks no argument.

I can’t handle any more, anyway. I’ll just have to trust, loath as I am to give it. There is no choice.

So instead of yelling and beating my fists against the cool dirt, I scoop up Natasha and hug her to me. She hums and wiggles until she is more comfortable. "How are you settling in, Little One?"

“Better now,” she almost purrs.

“Huh?” So eloquent, Aria.

The king turns his head from admiring himself in a mirror like pond. “Even when separated, we feel more peace when close to our Spark.”

I sigh. “I wish I could return this. Someday, Natasha, someday he will be dead, and no one will ever have to go through what we have at his hands. Then you will be whole once more.”

She nods against my chest, and her face relaxes. I cradle her in my arms as I once did a blond-haired, blue-eyed baby when my family was whole and my home had not yet experienced the hole losing someone leaves. I was a much different girl then, but my heart seems to have stayed much the same. It still beats with love at the trust given to me by holding such a tiny tike in my arms. She slips into a peaceful sleep with a soft sigh.

I turn to her parents. “I’ll come as often as I can. There’s much for me to do, but I will not leave her in such pain.”

I’m surprised by the soft smile given to me by both the uptight king and his soft and spicy queen.

“We understand. Perhaps she would be better with you?” The words seem to cost the king something, and I imagine it would be supremely hard to lose his time with a daughter whom was only just returned to him.

But the fact he even thinks such a thing for the sake of his daughter helps me understand just how deeply he loves her. He puts her before himself. Even if I dislike him, I respect him for that.

I look down at the sleeping fairy in my arms and know I can’t take her from those she loves. “No. My life is too dangerous. I couldn’t—if she's hurt because of me... just no.”

A light noise comes from the bushes, and I look over to a violet glow coming through the emerald bush. A pert face with a button nose and rosy cheeks peaks out at me.

“Hi,” she says, waving.

“Rianne. You should be studying,” the king says in his absent voice that is all the worse for having no emotion. I wince for her.

Rianne blushes. “Sorry, Father. I had to see the Guardian.”

“How did you even know she was here?” the queen asks, her eyes narrowing slightly.

For Rianne’s sake, I hope she has a good answer.

“My Spark told me.”

I strangle my gasp with a cough. “They can communicate?”

Rianne giggles. “Of course, silly. And Natasha’s Spark is getting frustrated. You aren’t listening to her.”

“She’s getting frustrated? She’s been a pain in my rear ever since I’ve got her!” I hiss. A sharp pain burns over my heart. I pound my chest, hoping to make it quit. “Ow. Stop it.”

“She says start listening and she will. Most at this point would have already killed their hosts.” Host? HOST?

I give her an incredulous stare. She just nonchalantly shrugs elegant shoulders clothed in violet silk with pink gossamer wings.

I shake my head as a sharp pinch starts behind my eyes. The more I learn about this so-called blessing, the more I want to be rid of it.

Ran barks a laugh in the back of my mind. I cut her off with a huff. At least someone is enjoying herself.

I take a deep breath and pray for patience. Looking into Rianne’s innocent eyes, I can tell my anger and fear are both foreign to her. For goodness’ sake, she called me a host as if it’s just another day in her life. For all I know it is.

I attempt to make my tone civilized. “So then, what is it she wishes me to listen to, and just how am I supposed to do this—listening?”

“I don’t know,” she says with another shrug.

She. Doesn’t. Know.

I roll my eyes skyward. Can I strangle her? Pretty please? I think the violent outing would help my emotional state.

No strangling today, my dear. Crud.

He laughs, and I can’t help but give a wry smile at the position I’ve found myself in.

“Alrighty, then how do I control the… Gift?” I ask cordially. At least it’s partially cordial. Alright. Fine. It's almost downright rude, but I tried my best. I'm just reaching my social and emotional quota for the week.

“You don’t.” The king gives me a grin. I want to slap it off his smug face.

The queen gives her husband’s wing a wallop, and I internally cheer when he winces and flutters farther away from his wife. “You ask her and she decides if she would like to help. Just as you would any respectable being.”

“How do I know if she responds?”

The queen snorts out a laugh that is surprising coming from a being that regal and... tiny. She makes me feel like a giant. “You will know.”

I came for answers, and those answers just ended up giving me more questions.

Can nothing in my life be simple?

"Why do they want my bond?" I ask softly.

"Everyone wants a Spark," the king says, looking at me as if I'm an idiot.

I strangle my anger and speak slowly. "What do they want with my Timber Wolf?"

The king huffs out a breath, edging away from the queen when she glares.

"We do not know why they want your True Bond so. There are many reasons, just as there are few. Indeed, True Bonds are rare, but the why has escaped us. And yet..." She cocks her head, studying my face, then snaps her fingers. "Follow me."

I look at Hans, who has been suspiciously quiet. He leans against the side of the warm brown pagoda, arms crossed. He nods his encouragement for me to chase after the queen who is almost to the door of this little room.

Once upon a time I wanted adventure. I sigh. Now, I only want my momma and a warm, pokey bed in my home with my family safe and sound. But honestly? I'd settle for just a few hours of blissful sleep.

But answers are more important than sleep. I only hope I can find them before it's too late.