Somewhere behind me I heard a faint shriek that sounded like an angry hawk, and I saw the color drain from Ace's face. I dropped my voice, scared to move an inch. "Is that—?"

His eyes went wide. "Yes; duck!"

I dove forward, crashing into the stone ground like a graceless wrecking ball. I heard another shriek and looked up to see a huge red bird with a wingspan of a condor diving towards Ace.

He leapt sideways, barely missing the bird's outstretched talons. "Get to the door!"

"What about you?" I hollered. The wind was picking up as Ace jumped into the air and zoomed away from the bird.

"Just get the door open!" He shouted, flipping out of view as the bird swooped towards him. The scene reminded me of a Spanish bullfight except with a giant red bird (that looked like it was on fire?) and a pubescent boy flying two hundred feet off the ground.

I took that moment when Ace and the bird disappeared from view and made a dash for the door. The clunky wooden door stuck for a second—giving me a brief heart attack. But when I wrenched the handle and yanked with all my might, the door gave way. I spun back around, searching for Ace. The bird cried again, drawing my eyes up. They were both flying now twenty feet above me.

Ace somersaulted through the air with the grace of a trapeze artist as the bird dove in again. He tried to swerve left out of the creature's way, but the change in direction was late, and the bird scored its talons along Ace's leg. He cried out, falling several feet through the air. He righted himself with barely enough time to miss the bird's onslaught.

"Come on! The door's open!" I cried, waving my arms wildly in an effort to divert the bird's attention.

"I know!" He called, but the bird seemed to understand which direction Ace was trying to go.

Each time Ace made a move towards the door, the bird blocked him with talons and a razor-sharp beak. "I—" he dodged and ducked "—am having a little—" he twisted and kicked "—trouble here."

My brain was a giant vault combination lock, swirling and whirling to think of something, but nothing competent came to mind. There were too many combination possibilities. "What should I do?!" I screamed over the wind.

"I don't know!" He exclaimed. He tried to move past the bird, but each time it would twist around to meet him with its beak and claws, forcing Ace to change course or get hurt.

It's moments like these that I hate. Moments that can't be solved with flashcards or snarky comebacks are moments that I absolutely suck at. Acting on impulse, I grabbed a stone from the ground. I cocked back my arm and used every ounce of softball training I have received over the past fourteen years of my life and threw it. It sailed through the air about two feet to the right of where I'd aimed, but the creature swerved towards Ace and into the rock's path. The stone landed against its head with a satisfying thunk.

Ace took the split second of distraction and zipped past the bird and through the doorway, pulling it shut as he shot through. Less than a heartbeat later, I heard a huge bang as the bird crashed against the door full speed. The door shook but didn't break, and I have never in my life been so grateful of fine craftsmanship.

I took a deep, haggard breath, trying to convince my body that I was in fact alive and well.

"That did not go as I intended," Ace commented matter-of-factly.

I glanced over at the haggard boy. He was missing one shoe and his clothes were torn in several places.

"What in the name of all things Georgia-born was that thing?" I asked, my voice more than a little strained.

"A phoenix," he replied, turning his back to me. "Now, how bad is this cut on my back? The stupid bird got me pretty good." He pulled the back of his shirt up to reveal a long, bloody gash running across his torso.

"That's... um..." I tried to keep my body from reacting, but, in combination with my adrenaline, my vision zeroed in on the red blood and all the pressure left my head. The edges of my view went dark, and I felt my body giving out. "Blood," I managed to croak as the entire world spun. I stumbled and landed on my butt with a hard oomph.

Ace reset his shirt, leaning down over me with a clear mark of confustion. "Are you... alright?"

I took deep, careful breaths, waiting for my body to re-stabilize. "Yeah," I said as the wave of dizziness slowly subsided. "I just... I don't do blood."

He chortled. "I can tell."

The heat of embarrassment raced up my neck and heated my ears. Almost-fainting made me feel like a fourteenth century European damsel, but it's not like I can control it. Vasovagal syncope is a biological condition.

There was a rumble of footsteps ascending the staircase. "Is that—?"

"It is," he replied. He stepped back, giving me the space necessary to stand. I swayed a little, but, otherwise, I was right as rain.

"You hit the floor awfully hard." He kept his hands behind him. I suspect it was because the bad gash on his forearm had begun to bleed, but I tried not to think too hard on that.

"I can tell," I muttered, gently rubbing the spot on my butt that had made first contact with the stone. The thunder of footsteps became louder, and I saw a fleet of palace guards running up the stairs.

"Looks like you will be staying in Roanoke, after all," Ace mused, watching the guards clamber up the last flight of stairs.

I felt a fleet of wonderful acerbic words burgeon at my lips, but I never got the chance to say them.

Guards filled the staircase landing, grabbing hold of both of us, and Annora appeared among them with fury raging on her eyes. There was no impassivity this time. She looked ready to kill someone.

"Take Gwyndolyn to the healers and then back to her room. I want a guard posted outside her room at all times!" She barked. Then she turned, directing her fury at Ace instead. "Ah Ciliz, a word."

The look on his face was almost worth it.

***

Reece glared as she entered with my dinner. Her lips even twitched at the sight of my somewhat disheveled appearance. Who was she to judge me? She wasn't the one who'd been attacked by a giant mythical bird.

I could see her struggling not to make a comment as she set down the tray of food. And, after a moment of debate, I decided her strained silence was worse than her comments, so before she turned to leave, I snapped, "spit it out." I couldn't defend myself with cutting remarks if she didn't say anything.

She turned back around, clearly eager to say her piece. "Many are asking why you tried to run."

Well, at least they weren't caught up in my almost fainting. Perhaps that little tidbit hadn't gotten out. "Do you honestly need me to explain it again? Why does everyone seem to be finding this so difficult to understand?"

"You are the Dare. This is the Upper Realm. We have a hundred times more wonders than you could ever find in places like Georgia." Reese sneered at the name of the great state of Georgia. People have been shot for less. "Who would want to live in a place like that? And, of everyone, why would you—who is set to inherit so much—turn from this spectacular place?"

I shook my head. "I love my family and friends back home. How can I just forget them? How can I give up the life I had where I was so happy? This place is your home, but its not mine."

She scrunched her brows low over her eyes. "You call them your family? They only raised you because you were stolen away from the Dare."

"That doesn't mean they aren't my family. It's a million moments, not one, that make you family," I insisted. Auntie, Uncle Coy, and Ike were the closest family I had, regardless of where they were on my family tree. I could appreciate what my mother said she had done for me, but I would never know her like I knew them. You can't get back all those softball games, school functions, birthday parties, bad dreams, and sick days. They were gone. And she hadn't been there.

Reece's eyes went wide with a flash of fury. "You don't understand! You get to find out who you are! You know who you came from!! And you tried to just... run."

There was something about what she said that didn't sit right with me, but I didn't get the chance to figure it out. She raised her hand and then dropped it down by her side. Clearly, she had more to say as well, but neither of us could figure out the words necessary to continue the argument, so she turned and left.

Well, I thought, trying to make sense of the conversation. Reece always attacked me for seemingly random reasons. It sounds like no one found out about the half-fainting. At least there's that.

However, the content of our argument bothered me well into the night. I kept thinking about my family, about Elise and Colel and everyone else back home. What did they think had happened to me? Did they think I'd been kidnapped? Were they alright?

I tried to count up the time I'd spent in Roanoke and convert it back to normal time. When I did, I realized that less than a day had passed in Georgia, and yet I was already desperately missing everyone. It felt like I'd been gone a lifetime.

I pulled Elise's metal bookmark from my pants pocket. It was a beautiful metal thing with a quote and a scraggly desert tree engraved on it. It was a gift that Auntie and I had made for Elise for her seventh birthday back when Elise had still believed in the power of Auntie's stories, too. I ran my thumb over the engraved letters.

Family: the roots which hold us fast, the branches which give us fruit, and the canopy that protects us from our rainiest days.

I felt the full blow of those words. Reese was right. Family does help you figure out who you are—she was just wrong about who family was. At a time like that, I needed my best friend to tell me what to do and how to keep my head on straight. And I needed Auntie to explain what everything meant. I needed her confirmation that she wanted me here. I needed Uncle Coy to offer a quiet source of comfort and maybe one of his horrible, nerdy jokes that would put things in perspective. I needed Ike to tell me to stop whining and face my fears. And I needed Colel to make me feel like I could conquer the world. I needed all of Shiloh—my whole family. For better or worse, you are never at a lack of people who know and care about you in a small town.

But, now, I had none of them. That was the cold heartache-of-a-truth. All I had was my bookmark and my anklet. I was completely and utterly alone. And I had no real idea how to be brave and strong without the people who made me those things. The people of Shiloh were the ones who made me who I was. Without them, how would I ever figure out how to get home?