Silvian stumbled back a few feet when I hit him, an expression of shock plastered to his face.

“Ow, what the hell?” He practically screeched.

This wasn’t possible, there was no way this was possible. Maybe this was just a really in character cosplayer? I looked to Silvian’s pointed elvish ears. They seemed way too real but they had to be prosthetics, right?

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I just had a weird impulsive reaction.”

His eyes narrowed. “You have weird impulsive reactions to...punch people?”

“It’s hard to explain. I err...mistook you for someone else.” I bowed my head. “Again, I’m really sorry.” I shouldn’t have reacted that way, even though this cosplayer had really bad taste in characters.

The boy rubbed his nose. “It’s alright I suppose. Lucky for me you hit with the same amount of force as a four year old girl,” he said nastily. Wow...okay that was kind of degrading. Then again, I wasn’t really in any position to call him rude since I had just slugged him in the face for simply being too in character. I decided to try and make amends with the cosplayer.

“So, what’s your name?” I asked.

“Silvian Gregate.”

I rolled my eyes. God, all these years of comic con and I still couldn’t stand these pricks that tried to never break character. “No, I mean your real name.”

The boy furrowed his brow. “What are you talking about?” He said slowly. “My real name is Silvian Greygate.”

“That...that’s not possible?” I stammered.

Silvian’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell is wrong with you? It’s just my name?”

I couldn’t think straight, what the fuck was going on? My mind was spinning. Due to this fact I did the only thing I could think of to do whenever I had a problem.

I started running.

Did I know where I was running to? Hell no! I just needed to get as far away from whatever weird tricks my mind was playing on me as possible.

“Look out!” I heard Silvian call from behind me. I didn’t register what he was warning me about until I suddenly slammed into a tree. My head hurt horribly and as I went to rub it I suddenly felt something wrap around my ankle. I looked down and realized it was a vine. Horrified I glanced upwards and a feeling of dread hit me fast and hard. This was no ordinary tree. This was the Snatcher, an extremely dangerous magical entity from the third Owen Thorn book. Before I could even register that the tree was really truly in front of me the vine around my ankle suddenly yanked up, propelling me into the air. I let out a blood curdling screech as I was dangled upside down. Another vine suddenly hooked around my other foot, then another around my hand. Panic grabbed me and I thrashed desperately in an attempt to get free. Suddenly from beneath me I heard Silvian’s voice.

“Riˈlēs!” He shouted. There was a flash of light and then all of a sudden the tree’s branches retracted and I came plummeting down.

Luckily there was something to break my fall.

Unluckily that something was Silvian Greygate.

I fell on him hard, sending us both to the ground. Silvian swore under his breath and I quickly rolled off of him.

“For someone so scrawny and small you shouldn’t be this heavy,” Silvian snapped.

“Sorry for that,” I mumbled.

The second I was off of him Silvian shot up, anger flaring in his gaze. “What is your fucking problem?” He poked my head. “Do you have shit for brains? I would ask you why the hell anyone in their right mind would run directly into the Snatcher but it’s becoming increasingly clear you’re a bloody lunatic.” I looked to the Snatcher again which had finally stilled. If the Snatcher was here then that must mean...I was on the outskirts of Hemlock Academy. I took a deep breath in attempt to calm myself down. This all had to be a dream, right? It just...felt too real. Maybe this still was all some wild hallucination. Regardless I figured I should just play along for now.

“Yeah,” I said slowly. “I can act a bit crazy at times. It’s just my shtick y’know.”

Silvian arched a dark brow. “Your...shtick?”

“Yep!”

“I’m pretty sure there’s something reeeaaaally wrong with you and you need help. I should take you to the infirmary.”

I shook my head giving him a grin which, from his expression, was not very convincing. “I’m fine.”

“I really don’t think you are.”

I needed to think fast, change the subject. There was no way I was having Silvian Greygate send me to the infirmary because he thought I was a freaking nutjob.

I crossed my arms. “You’ve been totally on my case but what about you. What were you doing just hanging around the Snatcher? That’s what it does, right? It snatches people! Pretty dangerous hang out spot huh?”

Silvian’s brows knitted together. “I came here because I needed some time to collect myself before the feast starts tonight,” he said slowly. “Me and my friends used to study out here all the time since no one would bother us. The Snatcher doesn’t hurt you unless you act like a total idiot and run into it.” I rolled my eyes but Silvian paid no mind and continued, “We just kind of claimed this place as our spot.”

I sucked in my breath. Right, Silvian’s two best friends (and cronies) Jay and Trip. They were killed at the end of book six in a giant dragon attack. If Jay and Trip were already dead and there was going to be a great feast then that must mean I was currently at the beginning of the seventh and final Owen Thorn book.

Silvian’s gaze wracked over me now. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before. I would have remembered an American, especially one as crazy as you.”

Shit, I needed to think fast. My mind was reeling. I needed to put any and all Owen Thorn trivia I had to use.

“You’re right. You haven’t seen me around before...because I’m a transfer.”

Silvian’s white eyes narrowed. “I’ve never heard of a transfer before.”

Me neither but that wasn’t going to stop be from bullshitting the hell out of this.

“Yeah! I come from Oakwell the magic academy in America. My parents moved to England for work so it only made sense I transfer from Oakwell to Hemlock.”

Silvian scoffed. “Well, being an American wizard from Oakwell I suppose does explain the erratic behavior. They made quite the mess when they came to Hemlock for the summoning ball a few years ago.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t our finest moment.”

“So if you’re a transfer that means you don’t have a magic class yet?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

His pale eyes raked over me. “I assumed. You’re not wearing a school uniform. In fact...the sweater you’re wearing reminds me quite a bit like the ones that dreadful Owen Thorn wears on the weekends.”

Yeah, that’s why I bought it.

“Thanks!” I said with a grin.

Silvian grimaced. “That’s not a compliment. They’re tacky.” He let out a little huff. “Don’t tell me people in America are just as obsessed with Owen Thorn as they are here.”

My gaze darkened, feeling slightly defensive over the way he was talking about Owen despite the fact that it was obviously written into his character.

“He’s the chosen one.” I said slowly. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

I thought he was going to fight with me and I was fully prepared to give him a piece of my mind but Silvian only gave a little shrug. “Well, prepare to be disappointed. He’s just a boy. I don’t know why that’s so hard for the world to see.” He snickered. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You humans need someone to believe in since you’re not nearly as powerful and gifted in the magical arts as us elves. Thinking Owen Thorn is the one to save you from the Dark One is your only hope. Heh, pretty pathetic if you ask me.” Fuming I opened my mouth to respond but before I could even get another word in Silvian quickly changed the subject. “If you don’t have a magic class yet then I suppose that means you’ll probably be sorted at the same time as the first years tonight.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“How embarrassing for you,” he said a little too smuggly.

I grinned at him, gritting me teeth. “Not nearly as embarrassing as falling down a flight of stairs trying to snoop on Owen Thorn second year.”

I realized my mistake the moment the words left my mouth.

Silvian’s eyes had grown wide. “How...how do you know that? I was only twelve when that happened.”

Shit.

I had just superiorly fucked up.