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When they were seated, Tanya told Inlé that she would order for the both of them, ordered, then continued her conversation with him.
"You're a pretty strange guy, you know? You're smart and athletic, but not on any teams or in any clubs. Even though our school has guidelines for 'suggested' clothing, you don't wear anything different than what you wear outside of school--even on a date." Tanya said this last with a hint and a pause, but when Inlé didn't seem to recognize the opening to apologize or make an excuse for being dressed as he was, she continued with a sigh.
"Inlé, you are a walking impossibility. You have no friends in the school, not even any close acquaintances. I've never even heard of anyone doing anything so simple as walking home with you.
"You blatantly disregard any school rules that you don't care about, but you don't go out of your way to break rules. Because of this, half the teachers hate you, and many of the seedier students admire you. But I've asked around, none of the 'druggies' or 'punks' associate with you. Some of the gangs talk about you as a commodity, but they all think you're in another gang.
"You're too 'punk' for the 'preppies', too 'nerdy' for the 'jocks', too scary for the 'spiritual' kids, and too weird for the 'normal' kids. You stand out so much, it almost hurts just to watch it. And yet you don't even care. You treat it as if it's perfectly normal, and everyone avoids everyone else everywhere.
"But the thing that gets me most is that you still help the other kids out. I saw the thing with fivers and that kid last week. I don't know how you did it, but it was great. Really kind. But he'll never know that you just up and gave him that money. Why do you do it?"
Inlé put his glass of water down, and looked at Tanya, then leaned in, conspiratorially. "Do you really want to know? It's easy, that's why. Intellect and athleticism? When the bar is set so low, I would be ashamed to be considered anything but excellent.
"And why should I try to conform to regulations I don't care for? I am my own person, and have no need to rely on such crutches as uniformity. Friends are a hindrance, and it's quite difficult to keep up with me, even when walking.
"There isn't a rule that's been made that can keep me from doing something I want to do, nor than can get me to do something I don't. The teachers hate me because they are blind sheep caught in this same system that every other student in that school is stuck in.
"The other groups won't tolerate me because I am everything they wish they were but are not. And they are ashamed to admit this.
"As far as being generous goes, I wasn't being generous at all. That 'kid' made me angry the other day, so I payed him back. That money wasn't mine, it was from the school treasury, along with a few other things I dropped in his pocket that probably drew attention when they fell out of his pocket. Stolen items tend to attract trouble.
"So, am I still the same person you thought I was?" Inlé asked, expecting a rebuke, and the girl storming out. He was surprised, though he did not show it, by her response.
"Uh-huh. Sure, so you're a vindictive narcissistic misanthrope. Great bullshit story. Care to actually divulge the truth? I won't tell."
A smile almost flickered across Inlé's face. Almost. Then he replied, "Neither will I. But I will tell you that the money truly was not my own. It was borrowed for ... something else. I helped on a whim.
"As for rules, my attire is within regulations. Barely, and with a few things that were originally disputed. I follow every rule the school creates perfectly, and because I follow it so exactly, some believe I do not acknowledge them. Really, very little about me needs to adjust for such rules, as they are basically reinforcement of common sense within the school."
Tanya did smile. "Thought you weren't going to tell."
"I didn't tell you anything you couldn't find out easily enough," he answered. He paused a moment, then began to stand. "If you would excuse me for a moment, though? I need to use the restroom."
"Go ahead," Tanya said. "The food should be ready soon."
Inlé walked past Tanya to the bathroom, down a short hallway opposite the restaurant entrance. Tanya sat and drank her water, waiting for the food to come.
Inlé walked into the restaurant a few moments later, and sat in the chair opposite Tanya. "I apologize for being late, miss," he said.
"What?" Tanya said. "You just went to the bathroom, you're not late. Sit down, let's continue our conversation. And am I gonna have to repeat the 'don't be so formal' talk every time you get out of arm's reach?"
Another Jack, similar to the one who'd taken Inlé to see Oberon that afternoon but making a larger effort to conceal its inhuman nature, sat at the table behind Tanya. It made certain Inlé had noticed it, then discreetly raised one hand and began flipping fingers about, weaving a complex, concealed sign language.
"So, we've covered a bit about what you think of school," Tanya continued. What do you do for fun?"
"Fun, eh?" Inlé said. "How would you like me to show you a trick?" He lifted his fork.
"Like what kind of trick?"
"Just some small bits of legerdemain. Finger tricks."
"This isn't your idea of flirting, is it?" Tanya asked. When Inlé didn't seem to understand, she waved the comment away.
"The first trick," Inlé pretended to explain as he began spinning the fork slowly over his fingers, "is called 'Lancelot' and is followed by 'Taming the Dragon'." Tricks continued for a short while as Tanya watched Inlé silently and secretly talk with the Jack behind her.
"Now watch the fork closely," Inlé said. "This last trick is difficult. It is called the 'Leap of Faith', and is mildly dangerous with a fork. If a mistake is made, I could injure myself or lose the fork. Watch the fork carefully." He spun the fork, quickly gathering speed, then flung it up with his wrist, so that it almost hit the restaurant's low ceiling. It spun wildly, a sphere of shining silver hanging in the air for a moment before descending.
As Tanya watched the fork fly, Inlé's fingers tore through signs quickly, 'speaking' at a feverish pace with the Jack. Their speedy exchange had Inlé's full attention, but when the seconds it took the fork to rise and fall had passed, he caught the fork effortlessly by spinning it off the extended index finger, and brought it back to palm, spinning it moments longer. Finding the conversation finished, Inlé lightly flipped the fork into a light grip, and replaced it on the table.
"There," he said. "How was that for fun?"
"That was amazing," Tanya answered. "Can you do other things?"
"Certainly, but another time. Our food is arriving now."
The Jack headed for the restrooms as a waiter presented two plates of baked ziti. The two ate in silence for a short while, then Tanya said, "So what were you actually doing, there?"
"With the fork?"
"With your fingers."
Inlé cut into his food delicately. "I move them in a way that only one or two touch the fork at any moment. So long as one finger is in contact with the fork, I have the ability to spin it around that finger."
"That's not what I mean," Tanya said.
"Is it not?" he asked.
Tanya took a large bite of pasta and chewed slowly before answering. "While I'll admit the tricks were well done, I know they were a smokescreen.
"You never once looked at your hand or the fork. Not even at the end."
"I was watching it out of the corner of my eye," Inlé explained. "The hand knows what the eye does not see."
"Right, sure," Tanya said unconvinced. "But your hands didn't stop moving even after you started 'Leap of Faith'. Call me crazy, but I doubt you were just doing legerdemain tricks. So what kind of sign language is it?"
Inlé said nothing for a long moment as he cut his food. "You are a very perceptive girl, are you not?" he said, raising a bite to his mouth.
"I like to think so," she answered.
"And you seem to have been watching me," he said. "How and why?"
"Well, you stand out at school so much," she began. "And then you showed up at work. And not voluntarily, either. I mean, not many of the patients get a personal escort by the police for their first visit."
"Ah, that," Inlé said. The two ate quietly again for a moment before Inlé continued.
"Then you are a student at the high school as well."
"Thanks for noticing so soon," she said.
"I apologize that I had not before."
"Do you even look around you at the school?"
"No, I do not," Inlé answered. "Should I?"
"You wouldn't miss as much," Tanya chided. "You're hardly even awake most days, let alone what anyone would call perceptive." They finished their meal in silence.
As soon as the food was finished, the waiter appeared, asking, "Did you enjoy your meals?"
In unison, the two answered, "Yes, thank you."
"How much do we owe you?" Inlé asked.
"No no," the waiter said, holding up both hands in refusal. "Do not worry about it, sir. This meal is on the house, courtesy of the owner."
"The owner?" Inlé repeated impassively.
The waiter gestured toward a proud man in the deep purple tuxedo with a silver flower on his lapel standing in the kitchen door across the dining room, who immediately nodded and retreated into the kitchen. The waiter said, "Our owner has seen you wander by many times, sir. But before today, you have never come in. He offers this to you in the hopes that you will return again soon."
Tanya stared perplexedly at Inlé, who in turn appeared unfazed as he spoke with the waiter. "Does he, now? Well, I suppose thanks are in order. Should we approach him now, sir?"
"No no, please, go on your way. No need to embarrass him with your thanks, sir. Please be on your way." Inlé and Tanya rose and prepared to leave. "Oh, and give the owner's regards to your mother, young master Zapfino."
"'Young master Zapfino'?" Tanya said once the two were outside.
"I truly do not know," Inlé said impassively.
"Mmhm. Right," Tanya said skeptically. "So what do you have to do before the movie?"
"What do you mean?"
"Inlé," Tanya began, "much as you'd like me to be, I'm not stupid. I know you have something to do."
"If you mean the meal ..."
"No," Tanya cut Inlé off. "You looked as surprised as me at that. Well, you seemed that way, at least." She leaned close and squinted at Inlé. "Your face doesn't give anything away, does it?"
"Only words and looks," Inlé replied calmly.
"Sir wait!" a voice called. Inlé and Tanya turned to see the Jack from the restaurant catch up to them. "You dropped these on your way out, sir."
Handing two movie tickets to Inlé, the Jack said, "Forgive me for looking, but it looks like it's almost time for the movie to start, sir. Best you hurry yourself and your lady friend quickly. Wouldn't want to miss it, after all."
"No," Inlé said. He turned and continued walking, followed half a step later by Tanya.
"Enjoy the show, sir," the Jack called, heading into an alleyway.

The two walked in silence for most of the trip. Just before they reached the theater, Tanya said, "I take it back. You do deal with shifty people."
"What?"
"Uh-huh. You've never seen any of them before, I'm sure."
"Well, the owner looked familiar," Inlé conceded. "But the waiter and the gentleman who returned my tickets were new faces."
"And he was nervous because ... ?" Tanya left the sentence to hang until Inlé answered. Instead, he silently pushed the theater door open, holding it so Tanya could pass before him. "At least you have manners," she grumbled.
"I try to," he answered.
"But you can't dodge my questions all the time."
"No?" he asked with infuriating calmness.
They entered the showroom and took their seats. The room was packed, and the lights were dimming as Tanya quietly asked, "Did you remember to turn off your cell phone?"
"My what?" Inlé said.
"You don't have a phone?" Tanya asked, more surprised that she wasn't very.
"I do not."
"Geez, what time period are you from, anyway?" Tanya complained. "Everyone and their grandmother has a cell phone now."
"I have yet to have a need for one," Inlé said, matter-of-factly.
"Whatever," Tanya sighed. "Is there anything normal about you?"
"My native language is English."
Tanya stared, trying to find a joke that she finally decided wasn't there. "I'm not asking you questions anymore," she finally said. "What's the point?"
"I am unsure," Inlé answered.
"That was rhetorical. Quiet, here's the movie."

As the movie came to a close and the credits began to roll, the audience rose to leave, except for Tanya. "Wait," Tanya placed a hand on Inlé's arm as he rose. "It isn't done yet."
"The credits are rolling," Inlé said.
"Trust me," she replied, watching the screen.
At the end of the credits, the screen went black for a moment, then the movie returned to the end of the scene before the credits had rolled. The scene continued where it had left off, and ended. The few people who had stayed behind left, and this time Tanya and Inlé joined them.
On the street, Inlé asked, "How did you know it was not done?"
"The story hadn't finished yet," Tanya answered bluntly.
"How so?"
Gesturing offhandedly, Tanya said, "Well, they said 'until their lines should end'. If Don lived, not all of the lines were ended."
"Perhaps."
"And this way prevents a sequel," Tanya went on. "It's final."
"No," Inlé said.
Tanya paused a moment, then said, "Now I'm lost. How could it not be? Everyone's dead."
"Remember that the two Michaels were married, and the Shaun was less scrupulous with his relationships," Inlé said. "Don is the only one with a slim chance of having a child. But he had the one woman he was with."
Tanya lightly punched Inlé's arm. "You paid a lot more attention that I would have thought. I thought you didn't watch movies."
"I do not. They are dangerous."
"Dangerous?" Tanya echoed confusedly.
"You enjoyed the movie, though."
Recognizing Inlé wouldn't explain his slip, Tanya tried another approach. "I did. Next time, let's just rent something and watch it at your place."
"All right," Inlé said. After a slight pause, Inlé stopped. "Wait, what?"
Tanya looked back over her shoulder and teasingly sang, "That's what you get for dodging my questions."
They walked for a while, then a voice yelled from an alley as they passed, "Wanderer!"
Tanya stopped, but Inlé kept walking. "Isn't this for you, too?" she called.
"Why would you think that?" he called back.
She caught him up. "Sorry, it's just that he called as we walked by."
"And he was not addressing you, so it must be me," he concluded. "What company do you believe I keep?"
"Wanderer!" the voice shrieked again. "Bearer of the Cauldron!'
"The kind who can get you free meals at restaurants," Tanya answered.
"Is this jealousy I detect?" Inlé asked.
"Curiosity," Tanya corrected. "You seem to be very interesting underneath all the boredom."
"I cannot tell if that was a compliment or an insult."
"Both."
"Wanderer!" the voice called again. "I have the sword!" This time Inlé stopped while Tanya kept walking. "Wanderer! Claíomh Solais! I know its whereabouts!"
Tanya looked back at Inlé. "I thought it wasn't for you."
"It is not," Inlé said. "I have to go now."
"Wanderer!"
Inlé turned back toward the alley. When he stepped into the alley, the voice said, "Ah, Wanderer. You ignored me so long?"
"Silence, beast," Inlé answered coldly. "Did you not see that I was not alone?"
Another Jack stepped from the shadows. "A beast, am I? Perhaps I should teach you some respect before I kill you."
"Kill me. You," Inlé asked, dismissing the idea. "Where is the blade you mentioned?"
Laughing, the Jack said, "Why would I tell you, fool? And what need have you to know when you are about to die?"
"What need have you to hide it if you can kill me?"
The Jack thought a moment, then answered, "Have you heard of the rash of hidebehinds in Maine? Find them, and there is your sword. The fee for that knowledge is your life." The Jack leapt forward and punched Inlé hard into the air.
Inlé spun in the air and, as he fell, noticed that Tanya was peeking into the alleyway. The Jack jumped to meet the falling Inlé and punched him into the alley wall.
"Not so strong, are you, Wanderer?" The Jack said, dropping Inlé to the ground. "Perhaps the tough front was just that? You certainly don't seem like much."
The Jack kicked Inlé in the chest, hurling him five meters deeper into the alley shadows. "And you know you're outclassed here, don't you? That's why you don't resist." It slowly approached Inlé who, lying on the ground, had coughed dark blood up onto the pavement. "Not much to say, eh?" it continued. "Guess it's hard with a chest full of broken ribs." It stopped as Inlé began to stand.
"Not especially," he answered. "You get used to it, at least." He closed his eyes for a moment, staving off dizziness, then continued.
"You look too much like a Jack." He shook his head. "But I cannot call you that. They tend to be smarter."
"Eh?"
Now standing, Inlé wiped the blood from his mouth. "Let us start over. Yes, I am the Worldwanderer. And you are an over-proud messenger. You are not a Jack, to be sure. But you look like one. Not a Jack, but no bigger than one. You are merely a Jackalope."
The Jackalope laughed. "A bold front."
"Perhaps," Inlé agreed.
Gesturing behind it, the Jackalope asked, "Does this mean you've noticed your lady-friend prying where she shouldn't be?" It chuckled again.
Emotionlessly, Inlé answered, "Are you sure that you have heard of me? Have I ever been called a 'protector'? No, just a wanderer." He waved a hand at the blood--his own blood--surrounding him. "I do not even protect myself."
"I've enjoyed that part the most," the Jackalope said, throwing another punch, this one easily ducked by Inlé.
"Perhaps," Inlé said, crouched. "But you forget, I do not protect you, either."
Inlé leapt up, kneeing the Jackalope in the stomach hard enough to launch it up. Continuing backward, Inlé caught himself with his hands, and followed the Jackalope up, striking its face with both knees as it fell to meet them.
The Jackalope landed hard on its back, followed by Inlé landing lightly a moment later. Standing over its head, arms folded, Inlé now stood with his back to the the mouth of the alley between the Jackalope and Tanya. "I thank you for the information, beast. Crawl back to whatever master sent you and tell them to reconsider such actions in the future.
"Now if you will excuse me, there is something I must attend to." He turned and looked directly at a now terrified Tanya. But before he could walk toward her, the Jackalope grabbed his ankle.
"We're not done yet," it said defiantly.
"You were given your three customary blows without my resistance. Now I will resist. You wish for a fight?"
The Jackalope grinned a wide, fresh-broken-toothed smile. "Nothing less."
"So be it." Inlé ground the Jackalope's wrist beneath his heel, turning it to pulp as the Jackalope cried out in pain. Its grip loosened from Inlé's ankle, no longer able to use the hand.
The Jackalope stood, holding its wrist. Inlé faced him, shaking his head. "You realize," he said, "you have little chance to win, do you not? I offer you a long life: Attack me again, and your body will look like your wrist."
The Jackalope grinned again. "That is a weak threat, if ever I heard one."
"I make no threat," Inlé said. "Attack me again, and your body will feel like your wrist."
"And if I kill you first?"
"You are not smart enough," Inlé answered. "Attack me again, and your body will be as broken as your wrist."
"I don't need to listen to you!" the Jackalope yelled, charging.
"You do not," Inlé agreed, closing his eyes. "But ... "--The Jackalope's punch landed squarely on Inlé's chest, but it held no power. As soon as it had touched Inlé, the Jackalope's body had been crushed. Blood, black and red and green, squirted out of it like an egg crushed in a fist. Not even a drop of the Jackalope's blood touched Inlé, though it left macabre designs on the alley walls and floor.--"... your geas holds either way."
Inlé turned and walked toward the girl who had followed him, frozen in terror. She stared at the scene at its end, unaware of Inlé's presence. He knelt and addressed her. "Well, miss. How did you like the real show? Not as exciting as the movie, was it?" Her eyes leapt to Inlé, terror still fresh on her face. "Do not worry," he said coolly. "You are in no way at fault for anything you saw, save that you followed me. This must, quite obviously, never happen again."
He placed a hand on her shoulder in a gesture that, were his face not impassive, might have seemed comforting. "But you need not have such a powerful memory. It will be painful to you. Listen to my voice." Reaching into his sleeve, Inlé pulled out a pendant of a swastika inside a circle. He hung the pendant in front of Tanya and spun it, first one way, then the other. "Hear only me," he said. "See only me. Watch the charm spin. See it dance. Listen to my voice."
Inlé repeated these words until Tanya had slowly calmed, and the terror had crept from her face. "You will not remember anything that happened after we walked past this alley and you heard a voice cry out. Instead, you tripped, and I am helping you up. I am helping you up. I am helping you up." The swastika disappeared back into his sleeve, and Inlé snapped his fingers.
Tanya came out of her stupor as Inlé asked, "Are you hurt?"
Tanya took the offered hand and rose saying, "Thanks, just my pride."
"That will heal," Inlé said. "Now, I should take you home. It is getting late, and this city can be dangerous at night."
Tanya snorted. "Right, sure. You've been here two months, and you think you can tell me what the city's like? I was born here."
"Really?" Inlé said calmly. "I did not think the city was quite so old."
"Just barely," Tanya admitted. "Father was one of the first to move here. He was personally asked to move here by the founder.
"I was born a week after we moved here. The hospital hadn't even been finished yet, so the midwives that arrived just had mom have me in the living room."
"Interesting. You must have been the first child born here, then."
"The first once the city was officially named. One of my friends was born a month and a half before me. Her father's the architect who designed the layout of the town, so she beat me. What about you? Where were you born?"
Inlé was silent so long, Tanya thought he was going to ignore her. Just before she changed the subject, though, Inlé spoke. "My mother and father used to travel for work. Father loved to study native culture, and this rubbed off to a lesser extent on my mother. And, despite four months of complaint from father, the crew, and my grandparents, mother continued to travel with father until I was born.
"'A son should be born where his father is', she would explain. And when father offered to stay home for a few months, she said they needed to keep their schedule."
"Sorry," Tanya interrupted. "Crew? Schedule?"
"My parents are scientists," he explained. "They were traveling doing research. I was born off the coast of the Galapagos Islands as mother swam there. The U.S. almost denied me citizenship because of it, but for the technicalities that I was in international waters, and both of my parents were American citizens."
"Yeah," Tanya said. "You really don't have anything normal about you."
"I suppose not."
They walked quietly for a minute before Tanya continued. "So do you like jewelry?" she asked.
"Jewelry? Why do you ask?"
"Well, you always wear those bangles on your wrist. Most guys don't wear bracelets, but you've got at least three or four on your left arm. And that necklace was pretty uncommon, too. You probably shouldn't show it off too much. People might get the wrong idea."
"Necklace?"
Tanya sighed. "Don't play dumb with me now. I told you I wasn't stupid. And I'm not easily hypnotized either."
"What?" Inlé asked, still visibly unruffled.
"Dad used to test new methods on me, always analyzing and cross-analyzing. If I refused to tell him something, he used to hypnotize me to get me to tell. I eventually got used to it. I'm sort of immune, though he doesn't know it yet. Now I know your secret, and you know mine. How's that for fair? Just don't tell Dad, okay?"
Inlé was silent for a long time. Finally, "I have other ways to make you forget. Less gentle methods, more powerful methods. I should use one now to erase these memories from you." He became silent again.
Tanya waited a moment, then, when she was sure he wasn't going to reach for his pendant, she queried, "But ... ?"
"But they are also more dangerous," he continued. "For you more than for me, and more so at the moment, as I have expended a great deal of energy already today, and am not within proper physical condition.
"You should not have to remember what you have seen tonight. Death in that manner is not something most ladies should be submitted to. But as I am partially at fault for this, I will give you an option."
"Like you gave the other guy an option?" Tanya asked cynically.
"I did give him one," Inlé said. "I offered him life or death. He chose death. But I would not place a geas on you, even had I the ability to do so."
Tanya kicked a stone into the road. "All right, what are my 'options'?"
"First, you allow me to attempt another form of hypnosis to eliminate this memory. This hypnosis is much more ... potent than the first."
"I'm not going to fall for hypnosis however potent you think it is."
"Second, I remove all memory you have of me by severing a string of fate."
"A string of fate? That sounds so cheesy. But wouldn't that cause trouble?"
"It would. When we next saw each other, you would not recognize me. That of itself would not be a problem, but others may notice that something happened. Also, in the state I am in, there is a small chance that I would sever other strings that need not have been severed."
"How small are we talking?"
"Small enough to be unlikely. Large enough to be worrisome."
"Next option?"
"In the third option, I go into your memory and manually remove the memory. Depending on how you think, this may be dangerous. If your mind is an organized one, I may be able to remove the memory with minimum collateral. But a chaotic mind could force me to remove a great deal more than was necessary."
"So you could really fuck my brain up like that?"
"In a manner of speaking."
"Pass."
"The fourth option is that I allow you to keep this memory, trusting your word that you will tell no one what you saw tonight. Though not all of it may be believed, the wrong ears hearing what you have to say could cause me trouble. And I have enough to worry about without the police suspecting me of murder."
"That one sounds a lot less rough for both of us. What's the down side to it?"
"For one, you have seen something most people believe to be real only in storybooks. You know there is more to the world now. That is a heavy burden in itself. You will also be haunted by this memory. The terror was real enough that it will not go away so easily. Though you seem to be much calmer now."
"Believe me," Tanya said, her voice suddenly solemn. "I'm still scared out of my mind. That may be why I can listen to this so calmly. But you know, I was more scared of you than that other guy, and you say you won't hurt me. You've been pretty honest so far, so ..." her voice cracked. Swallowing, she tried again. "So I'll trust you on that one, if you'll trust me to keep this a secret."
"Very well," Inlé said. "But you should keep well out of such things again. For your own good."
Tanya turned on Inlé with a look he could not read, then teasingly said, "You're canceling our next date before we even set it?"
"You still want to do that?" Inlé asked.
"Of course!" Tanya said. "You think your being some kind of super-hero makes me less curious? I may go the way of Schrödinger's cat, but that in itself is an exciting prospect, right?"
Inlé shook his head. "I wonder what your children will be like."
"You shouldn't say that with such a cold face," Tanya pouted. "And I doubt they'll be as bad as yours, Running around, exploding people."
"Hardly." Inlé said.
Tanya stopped then, in front of the office where the two had met. "Well," she said, "I'm home."
"The office?" Inlé asked.
"Above it, but yes."
"So your father ..."
"... Is the doctor, yes. Does it make me weird that I work for my father?"
"Not at all. It was once the rule. And although it is not as common today, it is not uncommon. I would have wound up working under my parents, under slightly different circumstances."
Tanya smiled. "That actually makes me feel worse, knowing I have something like that in common with you. It makes it seem weirder. But thanks, anyway."
She patted him on the arm, then ran up the six steps to the entrance of her home. Before disappearing into the house, she called after the already retreating Inlé, "Try and spot me tomorrow before I spot you!"
*****
I sit in a tree across the street, waiting for my original and the girl to return. I have business with him, and intend to take care of it now. I watch as they walk up to her front door, their conversation too quiet for me to overhear. Or, perhaps, he is shielding their voices? It would not be so difficult. For him.
When the conversation ends, she pats him on the arm and skips up to the entrance of her home. Before disappearing into the house, she calls after my archetype, "Try and spot me tomorrow before I spot you!"
He walks on silently toward his home, and I follow him. I have only a short wait before he will reach my trap, and I will attack. With this, his soul will be laid to ruin, and my own will fill the void left in his body. I will have my own body.
But my trap is avoided when he turns aside into the first alleyway. He must have noticed me, I think. Well, let's see what he has planned. I round the corner, expecting him to be facing me, only to find something much different.
His back to me, the source for my being leans heavily against the brick wall. This in itself is disturbing to me. Long has it been since I--we, when we were one--have been so reduced. Independence is what allows me--him--to be what he is. Self-sufficiency is everything, and yet here he leans. The pool of blood, vomited from his lungs terrifies me. I--we--no, he has fought gods and spirits without being so reduced. What is it that I have missed while I prepared for you?
He looks so near death to me that I miss my step. The quiet scrape of rubber over pavement is enough to get his attention. Immediately, the wheezing gasp vanishes and the mask closes over him, implacable once more as he quickly turns.
My reflexes save me, as I vanish back around the corner, and hang on the wall ten feet above him.
"Who is there?" he calls. I am tempted to answer, but do not. I could destroy him without any effort right now, I think. But something else seeps into my thoughts. Pity. In me? Never. But there it stands, facing me angrily. This is the girl's doing, I think. I cannot stay in this host too long, it will destroy me. And yet, I can not bring myself to attack him now.
I wrestle with myself for a moment longer, then look around the corner. He is gone, and my renewed resolve is wasted. I realize it would be of no use to give chase. He would not walk if he believes himself being pursued. He is home already.
Cursing, I retreat to my host's room. I lay frustrated in her bed, then release my hold on her body. Quickly it returns to its native form, and I find myself musing darkly, surrounded by the dark dreams of this girl.
*****
"Inlé!" Titania cried as he walked into his room, tackling him as he closed the door.
"Quietly, Queen," Inlé scolded. "My mother is sleeping, and would not take well to strange women being in my room so late."
"Oh, poo!" Titania said. "She isn't even here."
"She is not?"
"No, she left for a play with Cecil."
"Mr. Selina?"
"I guess. I sort of wanted to follow them, but I didn't know when you'd be back. And I wanted to see you more than 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'."
"Very well," Inlé sat on the bed. "What did you wish to see me about, then?"
Titania started to say something, then froze. "I ... I ..." She pushed her face into Inlé's chest, then pulled her head back and cried, "I knew it! Take that shirt off, I'm fixing you. You went off and got in another fight, didn't you? You just look for trouble, don't you?"
"I do not. It comes to find me."
"All the same," Titania grumbled, pulling Inlé's shirt off. "You shouldn't be getting yourself hurt! How am I supposed to cuddle with you when you're broken? And you shouldn't let people hang on you when you're hurt, either!"
"You were the only one hanging on me, Queen."
"That's beside the point! Now lie down, I'm fixing this. It'd better have been worth it." She placed her hands over the already purpling areas on Inlé's chest. Her hands glowed, and the wounds rapidly went through the cycle of healing.
"It was," Inlé answered, resisting the urge to gasp with pain. "I now know where Claíomh Solais can be found."
"What? Don't get into a fight about something like that," Titania complained. "Especially when on a date."
"Ah. Now I understand why you are here."
"I wasn't here to see how the date went," Titania argued. "It has nothing to do with that."
"I said nothing of the sort, Lady. Thank you for your concern, but I should be able to recover easily enough from ..."
Titania pushed down on Inlé's chest just hard enough to stop his talking. "Easily enough from all these broken ribs? Not likely even though it's you, Inlé. You are strong and independent. But even the strongest are occasionally weak. Independence doesn't mean you don't need things from your neighbors occasionally. Relax. Let me do this for you. It's good to help, sometimes."
Inlé sighed, and closed his eyes, lulled by the spring hum of fairie healing magic.

Inlé stood in the void again, prepared for his double to appear. He waited, and waited, and waited. And he waited longer. Time moves differently in a dream: a day in six seconds, a minute in an hour. Inlé waited for what may have been years or no time at all, listening to the silent madness around him.
An echo sounded noiselessly behind him, and, turning, Inlé watched as his double approached. It was minute when Inlé first spotted it, but three long slow steps brought the two within speaking distance.
"Sorry," the double called. "I got a bit held up. Did you wait long?"
"Perhaps," Inlé answered. "What is it that you want?"
"Me?" the copy asked. "I thought you wanted to say something. It's hard for me to get here now, you know?"
"And why is that?"
"Duh. I'm not as much you as I was before. I'm changing," the double said. "Improving to destroy you. To take your place in the world above.
"Sorry about crashing your date, by the way. Just didn't seem right to let the girl down because you can't juggle business and pleasure."
"So you help me?"
"Maybe." the copy agreed. "Maybe not. Let's just say I did you no favors. Though the movie was good. And you stayed safe. I couldn't stick around after the movie, though. It's taxing to be in control. After all, if the host's put under too much stress ..." The double let the words hang.
Inlé watched his mirror image coldly as it sat and began peeling an orange it pulled from its sleeve. "Host?" he asked.
"None of your worries, Inlé," the copy dismissed. "Just remember that I'm going to come kill you and take your body as my own. You will be mine." The copy's arm warped slightly, then returned to its proper form. "Well, I'd probably better go. I can't stay here too much longer."
"And why is that?" Inlé repeated.
The double stared at Inlé incredulously, then shook its head. "Sometimes I wonder about you. You're so smart you're stupid sometimes. Do you realize where we are?
"This is the Borderlands of you, pal. That short gap between Ego and Id. Go figure yours is empty. Everything that is you is right here, right in plain sight. Well, it would be if there was anything. And so everything that is you--even in the slightest, like me--becomes quickly assimilated.
"I want to be you. But I want to be me while I do it, so sticking around too long's dangerous. Especially considering how hard it is to get in and out now. Christ, I changed so I'd be safer in here--and I am, to an extent--but it's forcing me to stay longer here than I'd like.
"Anyway, I'll take my leave." Inlé's double stood. "I've got other shit to deal with, and I have to be careful how long I'm away."
"And if I forced you to stay?" Inlé asked.
The copy laughed. "Not happening," it said. "You don't have the strength. I dunno what the hell happened to you, but you seem like you've been holding yourself up by force of will, mostly. If you weren't so god-awful strong, I'd have taken you by now. Of course, if you weren't so god-awful strong, I probably wouldn't be. Period. So I'll bide my time a bit longer." It turned and began to walk away. "No point if I lose anyway, right? I'll ... be in touch." It waved back as it left.
Inlé watched his copy wade slowly into the void until fully engulfed.

Waking, Inlé found Titania asleep, kneeling beside the bed. Her head on his chest, she had collapsed while recovering Inlé's more serious wounds. Upon slight inspection, he found himself whole.
He slid lightly out from under the exhausted fairy queen, then lifted her gently onto the bed. Materializing a light blanket, Inlé covered Titania and retreated to his corner. He slumped into a comfortable position, and found himself still fatigued. Titania had mended his body, but exhausted them both in the process. Sleep overcame him again as he heard the apartment's entrance close, heralding his mother's return.

"Inlé!" a voice called from beside him in class. "I win."
A girl, the blonde with fluorescent streaks, sat down on Inlé's desk in front of him. He thought for a few long moments before recognizing her.
"Tanya."
"The same," she replied. "Like the hair? Dad won't let me dye it for real, since I have to look 'presentable' at the office. So I just use extensions. Cool, right?"
"If you say so."
"Well I do. Maybe we should put a couple in your hair. You know, add some change and surprise people. What do you think, Miki?" Tanya asked, looking to her friend.
The asian girl at the desk beside Inlé's own said, "I guess. I mean, would it really look good, though?"
"Yeah," said their vibrantly red-haired friend. "He'd look too scary. We could paint his face, though ..."
"If he let us," the shortest of the four said, chuckling. "That's not likely, though."
Tanya sighed. "Too true, girls. Too true. Well, we'll just have to find a way to get him to give in and let us do it, then!"
"Do what, pray?" Mr. Selina asked, coming up behind the group.
"Oh! sir, good morning," Tanya said cheerily. "Sorry, I didn't notice that the bell had rung."
"It hasn't yet, miss Maslow. You have just enough time to get to your seat, if I am not mistaken," he said, returning to the passage in his book as he passed by to the front of the class. And he was exactly right.

The crowd surrounding Inlé at lunch was growing larger. As these people all set themselves around him, the chance for sleep became less and less possible. Still, he attempted to at least rest his eyes as he listened to the group around him talk.
"... how'd you do on the test?"
"Well enough, I hope. I got number six wrong, though."
"You too? Jeez, did anyone get it?"
"Which one was it, again?"
"Here, I wrote the question down to look it up afterwards."
"Oh yeah! Yeah, I missed that one too. What do you think, Jock?"
"What's the subject?"
"English. We're reading American Gods."
"Don't ask me, then. I'm not a reader."
"Jeez, did anyone get the answer right?"
After a short silence, Inlé's shoulder was shaken. He opened his eyes. "Yes?"
Jim, hand on Inlé's shoulder, said, "You know the test we did in English?"
"Yes."
"Well, we were wondering what the answer was for number six."
Inlé closed his eyes again. "I don't read the books."
"Well, yeah," Jim said. "Mrs. Reed's always complaining about that, but you still get good grades--"
"Which is mostly why she grumbles," Tanya added.
"--Right. So what was the answer to number six?"
"Number six?" Inlé opened his eyes.
"Yeah, it's ..." Jim reached for the paper with the question.
"Cigarettes," Inlé answered before the paper could be recovered. "Laura asked for cigarettes."
"How can you remember something like that when you don't even recognize all your classmates?" Miki complained. "You didn't even do the reading."
"I remember what I must," Inlé said. "Is that all?"
"Well," said Tanya, "Since you're up already, wanna join in the conversation?"
"No," he answered, closing his eyes.
"Well why not?" she asked.
Inlé was quiet until the rest of the group realized he wasn't planning on answering. They went back to talking around him, and he continued to ignore them as best he could.

That evening, Inlé again sat over his map, pendulum in hand. He stared at the map for a long time without attempting to divine anything. The stones resting in his palm, he watched over the world.
Finally, he reached out and rested his thumb on an area in northern New York, and stretched his pinky toward Maine, but did not set it down. It hovered a moment, then he took his hand away from the map. He stared pensively for a moment longer, then placed the pendulum on the map.
Pulling bracelets from his wrist, Inlé twisted the various bands ringing each of the bracelets. To the casual observer, each ring was a solid band of silver. But to Inlé, there were a dozen pieces separated by thirteen thin grooves, allowing the pieces to slide in various ways. Each different position designated a different ring elsewhere that Inlé used for transport.
Grabbing up the pendulum again, he gently manipulated the portals one at a time, and the iolite moved to points on the map. Many times it returned to the area where Inlé had kept his thumb, but few came closer to Maine, save a handful in Vermont. Once, Inlé reached through one of the bracelets and collected the band on the other side.
Sighing, Inlé returned the original four to his wrist and passed the other up the opposite sleeve. Then he held the pendant over the map again.
"Inveni. Choloepus avorsus. Deprehende." The stone swirled over the map, circling a few small areas.
"Inveni. Choloepus avorsus. Maine. Deprehende." The stone swirled over a few small areas in Maine. Inlé watched these for a few moments, then placed a pin into one of the points the map had circled.
He held the agate over his home and the iolite over the new pin, then said, "βρείτε ένα μονοπάτι για μένα μέσα από τα εδάφη της σκιώδους."
Immediately, the silver chain connecting the two writhed as if it were in pain, finally settling into a twisted, chaotic route connecting the two points. Inlé pulled a red string from his sleeve, and wrapped it around the solid chain as it shifted slowly.
When it was fully encompassed, Inlé said, "διατηρήσουμε και να ακολουθήσει," and the chain and string dropped lifelessly to the map. Pendulum and string were separated and returned to storage, then Inlé slipped to his corner and slept.

"There must be some reason you keep returning here," the orange goddess said, laughing at Inlé's appearance among the goddesses of magic once more as they walked to their meal.
"Perhaps," Inlé said, turning to follow. "But I know no reason, unless it is that one of you is in need of my service."
"Maybe you just like the free food," the black goddess said lightly, and the others laughed.
"Perhaps, Lady. Gifts of food have been surprisingly common of late."
"Food is important for a young man," the golden goddess chimed. "Especially one with such a rigorous job as yourself."
"My job is not so rigorous as you may think, Madam."
"Hmph, you don't get that banged up at an easy job," the red goddess said.
"I am healthy and well, Lady," Inlé said.
"Healthy doesn't have that much blood outside the body," she snorted. "And yes, it's cleaned up. No need to worry that people can see it. But you can smell it here."
"What happened, then?" the orange goddess asked. "It must have been something to get you so banged up."
"It was nothing. I merely needed to get information from someone who did not wish to give it," Inlé dismissed the Jackalope. "Under different circumstances, things may have gone otherwise."
"Tiredness aside, the feast waits for no one, and we had best enjoy it while we can," the green goddess pronounced. The goddesses fell upon their meal with gusto, Inlé joining them more reservedly.

"So what's up with that sword you wanted?" Tanya asked after school. She had convinced Inlé to walk her home.
"I was hired to retrieve it," he answered.
"That's some part-time job you picked up. What's it pay?"
Inlé shook his head. "Nothing, generally."
"Not even travel expenses? Jeez, why keep the job, then?"
"There are benefits to the position, but it is hardly something one signs up for. My position ..." he looked for the right words, "'fell into my lap'? or 'wandered in and never left', perhaps."
"So ... your whole family's not like you?"
"I was not born as I am, no. I was a fairly normal youth. Albeit I was being raised somewhat unorthodoxly."
Tanya laughed. "'Somewhat'? You're king of understatements, aren't you? Anyway, what's so special about that sword? It must be worth a lot, if you're willing to get roughed up like that, huh?"
"I suppose," Inlé answered. "Do you know much mythology?"
"Not really, no," Tanya said. "Never really was interested."
"Nor was I. Yet, here I am. The sword is called Claíomh Solais, the sword of light. The blade is said to be magically keen, so that it can cleave anything. According to the tales, whenever the sword was used it would cut its wielder's foes in half."
"So not something we want in the wrong hands."
"I suppose," Inlé answered nonchalantly. Tanya looked at him, baffled as he continued, "I was hired to recover it for the Faerie Queen Titania. Or one of them, at least."
"Titania like A Midsummer Night's Dream?"
"The same."
"I take it back. Your job's awesome. Looking for a partner?"
"No. Even were it an option, I would not allow it. If you get involved in this, you will die for it."
"Uh-huh. Like you have?"
"Sunday night, the better part of my thoracic cage was in shambles. The sternum was broken, as were fourteen ribs--some in more than one place. One comminuted fracture in the skull. Two cervical and three thoracic vertebrae cracked. The left lung was punctured, and the left kidney lacerated. Add the varied cuts and bruises, and I was more than half dead, for all intents and purposes."
"But you're fine now, right? It couldn't have been that bad."
"My doctor loves me."
Surprised, Tanya missed a step. She smiled as she asked, "Was that just a joke? Did Mr. Serious just crack a joke?"
"No. I said my doctor loves me, which is true. Had she not been available to repair the injuries I had sustained, I would still be healing today, and perhaps tomorrow as well."
"Two or three days to fix all that? You're crazy."
"I suppose so. It matters little either way."
They walked quietly for a few minutes. Tanya finally mused, "So my competition's a doctor, then?"
"Competition?"
"Well, she's after you, too, right?"
"... No. I did not mean she loved me in that manner. I would be far too young for her. I believe she considers me somewhere between a favorite pet and a memento of things past. But I cannot understand her intentions completely."
"Of course not," Tanya scolded. "What man can understand a woman?"
"It is somewhat more complicated than that," Inlé said, but Tanya ignored him.
"And what does age matter? What's ten years when you're an adult?"
"Nothing. But it is nowhere near ... "
By now Tanya had gone off into her own world and was dragging Inlé along behind her. "I bet she's wild about you and is despairing because you're so cold and unfeeling--you really should smile once in a while, it's good for you--and she pines away over her unrequited love. She probably even does weird things like sneaking into your room while you're away. Because it's you, anything's believable."
Inlé shook his head silently.
"What, you deny it? At this point, I would believe just about any crazy thing you said that involved you. So how old is she?"
"Twelve hundred or so."
Tanya looked quickly at Inlé. "I don't believe it."
"The doctor I spoke of is not exactly a doctor as you are accustomed. The person who healed me was the same queen who hired me to retrieve the Tuatha dé Dannan for her."
"I thought you said it was cleave solace or something."
"Claíomh Solais is the sword, yes. The Tuatha dé Dannan, or more accurately the four treasures of the Tuatha dé Dannan are what I was hired to retrieve."
"So have you gotten it for her, yet?"
"It is in Maine. I plan to retrieve it Saturday."
"Uh-huh. So you aren't doing anything Friday, then."
"I suppose not."
"Perfect. It's a date!"
"What?"
"The Halloween dance at school. You're coming with me, no arguments." She skipped up the steps to the office and ran inside before Inlé could object.

Description
When they were seated, Tanya told Inlé that she would order for the both of them, ordered, then continued her conversation with him.
"You're a pretty strange guy, you know? You're smart and athletic, but not on any teams or in any clubs. Even though our school has guidelines for 'suggested' clothing, you don't wear anything different than what you wear outside of school--even on a date." Tanya said this last with a hint and a pause, but when Inlé didn't seem to recognize the opening to apologize or make an excuse for being dressed as he was, she continued with a sigh.
"Inlé, you are a walking impossibility. You have no friends in the school, not even any close acquaintances. I've never even heard of anyone doing anything so simple as walking home with you.
"You blatantly disregard any school rules that you don't care about, but you don't go out of your way to break rules. Because of this, half the teachers hate you, and many of the seedier students admire you. But I've asked around, none of the 'druggies' or 'punks' associate with you. Some of the gangs talk about you as a commodity, but they all think you're in another gang.
"You're too 'punk' for the 'preppies', too 'nerdy' for the 'jocks', too scary for the 'spiritual' kids, and too weird for the 'normal' kids. You stand out so much, it almost hurts just to watch it. And yet you don't even care. You treat it as if it's perfectly normal, and everyone avoids everyone else everywhere.
"But the thing that gets me most is that you still help the other kids out. I saw the thing with fivers and that kid last week. I don't know how you did it, but it was great. Really kind. But he'll never know that you just up and gave him that money. Why do you do it?"
Inlé put his glass of water down, and looked at Tanya, then leaned in, conspiratorially. "Do you really want to know? It's easy, that's why. Intellect and athleticism? When the bar is set so low, I would be ashamed to be considered anything but excellent.
"And why should I try to conform to regulations I don't care for? I am my own person, and have no need to rely on such crutches as uniformity. Friends are a hindrance, and it's quite difficult to keep up with me, even when walking.
"There isn't a rule that's been made that can keep me from doing something I want to do, nor than can get me to do something I don't. The teachers hate me because they are blind sheep caught in this same system that every other student in that school is stuck in.
"The other groups won't tolerate me because I am everything they wish they were but are not. And they are ashamed to admit this.
"As far as being generous goes, I wasn't being generous at all. That 'kid' made me angry the other day, so I payed him back. That money wasn't mine, it was from the school treasury, along with a few other things I dropped in his pocket that probably drew attention when they fell out of his pocket. Stolen items tend to attract trouble.
"So, am I still the same person you thought I was?" Inlé asked, expecting a rebuke, and the girl storming out. He was surprised, though he did not show it, by her response.
"Uh-huh. Sure, so you're a vindictive narcissistic misanthrope. Great bullshit story. Care to actually divulge the truth? I won't tell."
A smile almost flickered across Inlé's face. Almost. Then he replied, "Neither will I. But I will tell you that the money truly was not my own. It was borrowed for ... something else. I helped on a whim.
"As for rules, my attire is within regulations. Barely, and with a few things that were originally disputed. I follow every rule the school creates perfectly, and because I follow it so exactly, some believe I do not acknowledge them. Really, very little about me needs to adjust for such rules, as they are basically reinforcement of common sense within the school."
Tanya did smile. "Thought you weren't going to tell."
"I didn't tell you anything you couldn't find out easily enough," he answered. He paused a moment, then began to stand. "If you would excuse me for a moment, though? I need to use the restroom."
"Go ahead," Tanya said. "The food should be ready soon."
Inlé walked past Tanya to the bathroom, down a short hallway opposite the restaurant entrance. Tanya sat and drank her water, waiting for the food to come.
Inlé walked into the restaurant a few moments later, and sat in the chair opposite Tanya. "I apologize for being late, miss," he said.
"What?" Tanya said. "You just went to the bathroom, you're not late. Sit down, let's continue our conversation. And am I gonna have to repeat the 'don't be so formal' talk every time you get out of arm's reach?"
Another Jack, similar to the one who'd taken Inlé to see Oberon that afternoon but making a larger effort to conceal its inhuman nature, sat at the table behind Tanya. It made certain Inlé had noticed it, then discreetly raised one hand and began flipping fingers about, weaving a complex, concealed sign language.
"So, we've covered a bit about what you think of school," Tanya continued. What do you do for fun?"
"Fun, eh?" Inlé said. "How would you like me to show you a trick?" He lifted his fork.
"Like what kind of trick?"
"Just some small bits of legerdemain. Finger tricks."
"This isn't your idea of flirting, is it?" Tanya asked. When Inlé didn't seem to understand, she waved the comment away.
"The first trick," Inlé pretended to explain as he began spinning the fork slowly over his fingers, "is called 'Lancelot' and is followed by 'Taming the Dragon'." Tricks continued for a short while as Tanya watched Inlé silently and secretly talk with the Jack behind her.
"Now watch the fork closely," Inlé said. "This last trick is difficult. It is called the 'Leap of Faith', and is mildly dangerous with a fork. If a mistake is made, I could injure myself or lose the fork. Watch the fork carefully." He spun the fork, quickly gathering speed, then flung it up with his wrist, so that it almost hit the restaurant's low ceiling. It spun wildly, a sphere of shining silver hanging in the air for a moment before descending.
As Tanya watched the fork fly, Inlé's fingers tore through signs quickly, 'speaking' at a feverish pace with the Jack. Their speedy exchange had Inlé's full attention, but when the seconds it took the fork to rise and fall had passed, he caught the fork effortlessly by spinning it off the extended index finger, and brought it back to palm, spinning it moments longer. Finding the conversation finished, Inlé lightly flipped the fork into a light grip, and replaced it on the table.
"There," he said. "How was that for fun?"
"That was amazing," Tanya answered. "Can you do other things?"
"Certainly, but another time. Our food is arriving now."
The Jack headed for the restrooms as a waiter presented two plates of baked ziti. The two ate in silence for a short while, then Tanya said, "So what were you actually doing, there?"
"With the fork?"
"With your fingers."
Inlé cut into his food delicately. "I move them in a way that only one or two touch the fork at any moment. So long as one finger is in contact with the fork, I have the ability to spin it around that finger."
"That's not what I mean," Tanya said.
"Is it not?" he asked.
Tanya took a large bite of pasta and chewed slowly before answering. "While I'll admit the tricks were well done, I know they were a smokescreen.
"You never once looked at your hand or the fork. Not even at the end."
"I was watching it out of the corner of my eye," Inlé explained. "The hand knows what the eye does not see."
"Right, sure," Tanya said unconvinced. "But your hands didn't stop moving even after you started 'Leap of Faith'. Call me crazy, but I doubt you were just doing legerdemain tricks. So what kind of sign language is it?"
Inlé said nothing for a long moment as he cut his food. "You are a very perceptive girl, are you not?" he said, raising a bite to his mouth.
"I like to think so," she answered.
"And you seem to have been watching me," he said. "How and why?"
"Well, you stand out at school so much," she began. "And then you showed up at work. And not voluntarily, either. I mean, not many of the patients get a personal escort by the police for their first visit."
"Ah, that," Inlé said. The two ate quietly again for a moment before Inlé continued.
"Then you are a student at the high school as well."
"Thanks for noticing so soon," she said.
"I apologize that I had not before."
"Do you even look around you at the school?"
"No, I do not," Inlé answered. "Should I?"
"You wouldn't miss as much," Tanya chided. "You're hardly even awake most days, let alone what anyone would call perceptive." They finished their meal in silence.
As soon as the food was finished, the waiter appeared, asking, "Did you enjoy your meals?"
In unison, the two answered, "Yes, thank you."
"How much do we owe you?" Inlé asked.
"No no," the waiter said, holding up both hands in refusal. "Do not worry about it, sir. This meal is on the house, courtesy of the owner."
"The owner?" Inlé repeated impassively.
The waiter gestured toward a proud man in the deep purple tuxedo with a silver flower on his lapel standing in the kitchen door across the dining room, who immediately nodded and retreated into the kitchen. The waiter said, "Our owner has seen you wander by many times, sir. But before today, you have never come in. He offers this to you in the hopes that you will return again soon."
Tanya stared perplexedly at Inlé, who in turn appeared unfazed as he spoke with the waiter. "Does he, now? Well, I suppose thanks are in order. Should we approach him now, sir?"
"No no, please, go on your way. No need to embarrass him with your thanks, sir. Please be on your way." Inlé and Tanya rose and prepared to leave. "Oh, and give the owner's regards to your mother, young master Zapfino."
"'Young master Zapfino'?" Tanya said once the two were outside.
"I truly do not know," Inlé said impassively.
"Mmhm. Right," Tanya said skeptically. "So what do you have to do before the movie?"
"What do you mean?"
"Inlé," Tanya began, "much as you'd like me to be, I'm not stupid. I know you have something to do."
"If you mean the meal ..."
"No," Tanya cut Inlé off. "You looked as surprised as me at that. Well, you seemed that way, at least." She leaned close and squinted at Inlé. "Your face doesn't give anything away, does it?"
"Only words and looks," Inlé replied calmly.
"Sir wait!" a voice called. Inlé and Tanya turned to see the Jack from the restaurant catch up to them. "You dropped these on your way out, sir."
Handing two movie tickets to Inlé, the Jack said, "Forgive me for looking, but it looks like it's almost time for the movie to start, sir. Best you hurry yourself and your lady friend quickly. Wouldn't want to miss it, after all."
"No," Inlé said. He turned and continued walking, followed half a step later by Tanya.
"Enjoy the show, sir," the Jack called, heading into an alleyway.

The two walked in silence for most of the trip. Just before they reached the theater, Tanya said, "I take it back. You do deal with shifty people."
"What?"
"Uh-huh. You've never seen any of them before, I'm sure."
"Well, the owner looked familiar," Inlé conceded. "But the waiter and the gentleman who returned my tickets were new faces."
"And he was nervous because ... ?" Tanya left the sentence to hang until Inlé answered. Instead, he silently pushed the theater door open, holding it so Tanya could pass before him. "At least you have manners," she grumbled.
"I try to," he answered.
"But you can't dodge my questions all the time."
"No?" he asked with infuriating calmness.
They entered the showroom and took their seats. The room was packed, and the lights were dimming as Tanya quietly asked, "Did you remember to turn off your cell phone?"
"My what?" Inlé said.
"You don't have a phone?" Tanya asked, more surprised that she wasn't very.
"I do not."
"Geez, what time period are you from, anyway?" Tanya complained. "Everyone and their grandmother has a cell phone now."
"I have yet to have a need for one," Inlé said, matter-of-factly.
"Whatever," Tanya sighed. "Is there anything normal about you?"
"My native language is English."
Tanya stared, trying to find a joke that she finally decided wasn't there. "I'm not asking you questions anymore," she finally said. "What's the point?"
"I am unsure," Inlé answered.
"That was rhetorical. Quiet, here's the movie."

As the movie came to a close and the credits began to roll, the audience rose to leave, except for Tanya. "Wait," Tanya placed a hand on Inlé's arm as he rose. "It isn't done yet."
"The credits are rolling," Inlé said.
"Trust me," she replied, watching the screen.
At the end of the credits, the screen went black for a moment, then the movie returned to the end of the scene before the credits had rolled. The scene continued where it had left off, and ended. The few people who had stayed behind left, and this time Tanya and Inlé joined them.
On the street, Inlé asked, "How did you know it was not done?"
"The story hadn't finished yet," Tanya answered bluntly.
"How so?"
Gesturing offhandedly, Tanya said, "Well, they said 'until their lines should end'. If Don lived, not all of the lines were ended."
"Perhaps."
"And this way prevents a sequel," Tanya went on. "It's final."
"No," Inlé said.
Tanya paused a moment, then said, "Now I'm lost. How could it not be? Everyone's dead."
"Remember that the two Michaels were married, and the Shaun was less scrupulous with his relationships," Inlé said. "Don is the only one with a slim chance of having a child. But he had the one woman he was with."
Tanya lightly punched Inlé's arm. "You paid a lot more attention that I would have thought. I thought you didn't watch movies."
"I do not. They are dangerous."
"Dangerous?" Tanya echoed confusedly.
"You enjoyed the movie, though."
Recognizing Inlé wouldn't explain his slip, Tanya tried another approach. "I did. Next time, let's just rent something and watch it at your place."
"All right," Inlé said. After a slight pause, Inlé stopped. "Wait, what?"
Tanya looked back over her shoulder and teasingly sang, "That's what you get for dodging my questions."
They walked for a while, then a voice yelled from an alley as they passed, "Wanderer!"
Tanya stopped, but Inlé kept walking. "Isn't this for you, too?" she called.
"Why would you think that?" he called back.
She caught him up. "Sorry, it's just that he called as we walked by."
"And he was not addressing you, so it must be me," he concluded. "What company do you believe I keep?"
"Wanderer!" the voice shrieked again. "Bearer of the Cauldron!'
"The kind who can get you free meals at restaurants," Tanya answered.
"Is this jealousy I detect?" Inlé asked.
"Curiosity," Tanya corrected. "You seem to be very interesting underneath all the boredom."
"I cannot tell if that was a compliment or an insult."
"Both."
"Wanderer!" the voice called again. "I have the sword!" This time Inlé stopped while Tanya kept walking. "Wanderer! Claíomh Solais! I know its whereabouts!"
Tanya looked back at Inlé. "I thought it wasn't for you."
"It is not," Inlé said. "I have to go now."
"Wanderer!"
Inlé turned back toward the alley. When he stepped into the alley, the voice said, "Ah, Wanderer. You ignored me so long?"
"Silence, beast," Inlé answered coldly. "Did you not see that I was not alone?"
Another Jack stepped from the shadows. "A beast, am I? Perhaps I should teach you some respect before I kill you."
"Kill me. You," Inlé asked, dismissing the idea. "Where is the blade you mentioned?"
Laughing, the Jack said, "Why would I tell you, fool? And what need have you to know when you are about to die?"
"What need have you to hide it if you can kill me?"
The Jack thought a moment, then answered, "Have you heard of the rash of hidebehinds in Maine? Find them, and there is your sword. The fee for that knowledge is your life." The Jack leapt forward and punched Inlé hard into the air.
Inlé spun in the air and, as he fell, noticed that Tanya was peeking into the alleyway. The Jack jumped to meet the falling Inlé and punched him into the alley wall.
"Not so strong, are you, Wanderer?" The Jack said, dropping Inlé to the ground. "Perhaps the tough front was just that? You certainly don't seem like much."
The Jack kicked Inlé in the chest, hurling him five meters deeper into the alley shadows. "And you know you're outclassed here, don't you? That's why you don't resist." It slowly approached Inlé who, lying on the ground, had coughed dark blood up onto the pavement. "Not much to say, eh?" it continued. "Guess it's hard with a chest full of broken ribs." It stopped as Inlé began to stand.
"Not especially," he answered. "You get used to it, at least." He closed his eyes for a moment, staving off dizziness, then continued.
"You look too much like a Jack." He shook his head. "But I cannot call you that. They tend to be smarter."
"Eh?"
Now standing, Inlé wiped the blood from his mouth. "Let us start over. Yes, I am the Worldwanderer. And you are an over-proud messenger. You are not a Jack, to be sure. But you look like one. Not a Jack, but no bigger than one. You are merely a Jackalope."
The Jackalope laughed. "A bold front."
"Perhaps," Inlé agreed.
Gesturing behind it, the Jackalope asked, "Does this mean you've noticed your lady-friend prying where she shouldn't be?" It chuckled again.
Emotionlessly, Inlé answered, "Are you sure that you have heard of me? Have I ever been called a 'protector'? No, just a wanderer." He waved a hand at the blood--his own blood--surrounding him. "I do not even protect myself."
"I've enjoyed that part the most," the Jackalope said, throwing another punch, this one easily ducked by Inlé.
"Perhaps," Inlé said, crouched. "But you forget, I do not protect you, either."
Inlé leapt up, kneeing the Jackalope in the stomach hard enough to launch it up. Continuing backward, Inlé caught himself with his hands, and followed the Jackalope up, striking its face with both knees as it fell to meet them.
The Jackalope landed hard on its back, followed by Inlé landing lightly a moment later. Standing over its head, arms folded, Inlé now stood with his back to the the mouth of the alley between the Jackalope and Tanya. "I thank you for the information, beast. Crawl back to whatever master sent you and tell them to reconsider such actions in the future.
"Now if you will excuse me, there is something I must attend to." He turned and looked directly at a now terrified Tanya. But before he could walk toward her, the Jackalope grabbed his ankle.
"We're not done yet," it said defiantly.
"You were given your three customary blows without my resistance. Now I will resist. You wish for a fight?"
The Jackalope grinned a wide, fresh-broken-toothed smile. "Nothing less."
"So be it." Inlé ground the Jackalope's wrist beneath his heel, turning it to pulp as the Jackalope cried out in pain. Its grip loosened from Inlé's ankle, no longer able to use the hand.
The Jackalope stood, holding its wrist. Inlé faced him, shaking his head. "You realize," he said, "you have little chance to win, do you not? I offer you a long life: Attack me again, and your body will look like your wrist."
The Jackalope grinned again. "That is a weak threat, if ever I heard one."
"I make no threat," Inlé said. "Attack me again, and your body will feel like your wrist."
"And if I kill you first?"
"You are not smart enough," Inlé answered. "Attack me again, and your body will be as broken as your wrist."
"I don't need to listen to you!" the Jackalope yelled, charging.
"You do not," Inlé agreed, closing his eyes. "But ... "--The Jackalope's punch landed squarely on Inlé's chest, but it held no power. As soon as it had touched Inlé, the Jackalope's body had been crushed. Blood, black and red and green, squirted out of it like an egg crushed in a fist. Not even a drop of the Jackalope's blood touched Inlé, though it left macabre designs on the alley walls and floor.--"... your geas holds either way."
Inlé turned and walked toward the girl who had followed him, frozen in terror. She stared at the scene at its end, unaware of Inlé's presence. He knelt and addressed her. "Well, miss. How did you like the real show? Not as exciting as the movie, was it?" Her eyes leapt to Inlé, terror still fresh on her face. "Do not worry," he said coolly. "You are in no way at fault for anything you saw, save that you followed me. This must, quite obviously, never happen again."
He placed a hand on her shoulder in a gesture that, were his face not impassive, might have seemed comforting. "But you need not have such a powerful memory. It will be painful to you. Listen to my voice." Reaching into his sleeve, Inlé pulled out a pendant of a swastika inside a circle. He hung the pendant in front of Tanya and spun it, first one way, then the other. "Hear only me," he said. "See only me. Watch the charm spin. See it dance. Listen to my voice."
Inlé repeated these words until Tanya had slowly calmed, and the terror had crept from her face. "You will not remember anything that happened after we walked past this alley and you heard a voice cry out. Instead, you tripped, and I am helping you up. I am helping you up. I am helping you up." The swastika disappeared back into his sleeve, and Inlé snapped his fingers.
Tanya came out of her stupor as Inlé asked, "Are you hurt?"
Tanya took the offered hand and rose saying, "Thanks, just my pride."
"That will heal," Inlé said. "Now, I should take you home. It is getting late, and this city can be dangerous at night."
Tanya snorted. "Right, sure. You've been here two months, and you think you can tell me what the city's like? I was born here."
"Really?" Inlé said calmly. "I did not think the city was quite so old."
"Just barely," Tanya admitted. "Father was one of the first to move here. He was personally asked to move here by the founder.
"I was born a week after we moved here. The hospital hadn't even been finished yet, so the midwives that arrived just had mom have me in the living room."
"Interesting. You must have been the first child born here, then."
"The first once the city was officially named. One of my friends was born a month and a half before me. Her father's the architect who designed the layout of the town, so she beat me. What about you? Where were you born?"
Inlé was silent so long, Tanya thought he was going to ignore her. Just before she changed the subject, though, Inlé spoke. "My mother and father used to travel for work. Father loved to study native culture, and this rubbed off to a lesser extent on my mother. And, despite four months of complaint from father, the crew, and my grandparents, mother continued to travel with father until I was born.
"'A son should be born where his father is', she would explain. And when father offered to stay home for a few months, she said they needed to keep their schedule."
"Sorry," Tanya interrupted. "Crew? Schedule?"
"My parents are scientists," he explained. "They were traveling doing research. I was born off the coast of the Galapagos Islands as mother swam there. The U.S. almost denied me citizenship because of it, but for the technicalities that I was in international waters, and both of my parents were American citizens."
"Yeah," Tanya said. "You really don't have anything normal about you."
"I suppose not."
They walked quietly for a minute before Tanya continued. "So do you like jewelry?" she asked.
"Jewelry? Why do you ask?"
"Well, you always wear those bangles on your wrist. Most guys don't wear bracelets, but you've got at least three or four on your left arm. And that necklace was pretty uncommon, too. You probably shouldn't show it off too much. People might get the wrong idea."
"Necklace?"
Tanya sighed. "Don't play dumb with me now. I told you I wasn't stupid. And I'm not easily hypnotized either."
"What?" Inlé asked, still visibly unruffled.
"Dad used to test new methods on me, always analyzing and cross-analyzing. If I refused to tell him something, he used to hypnotize me to get me to tell. I eventually got used to it. I'm sort of immune, though he doesn't know it yet. Now I know your secret, and you know mine. How's that for fair? Just don't tell Dad, okay?"
Inlé was silent for a long time. Finally, "I have other ways to make you forget. Less gentle methods, more powerful methods. I should use one now to erase these memories from you." He became silent again.
Tanya waited a moment, then, when she was sure he wasn't going to reach for his pendant, she queried, "But ... ?"
"But they are also more dangerous," he continued. "For you more than for me, and more so at the moment, as I have expended a great deal of energy already today, and am not within proper physical condition.
"You should not have to remember what you have seen tonight. Death in that manner is not something most ladies should be submitted to. But as I am partially at fault for this, I will give you an option."
"Like you gave the other guy an option?" Tanya asked cynically.
"I did give him one," Inlé said. "I offered him life or death. He chose death. But I would not place a geas on you, even had I the ability to do so."
Tanya kicked a stone into the road. "All right, what are my 'options'?"
"First, you allow me to attempt another form of hypnosis to eliminate this memory. This hypnosis is much more ... potent than the first."
"I'm not going to fall for hypnosis however potent you think it is."
"Second, I remove all memory you have of me by severing a string of fate."
"A string of fate? That sounds so cheesy. But wouldn't that cause trouble?"
"It would. When we next saw each other, you would not recognize me. That of itself would not be a problem, but others may notice that something happened. Also, in the state I am in, there is a small chance that I would sever other strings that need not have been severed."
"How small are we talking?"
"Small enough to be unlikely. Large enough to be worrisome."
"Next option?"
"In the third option, I go into your memory and manually remove the memory. Depending on how you think, this may be dangerous. If your mind is an organized one, I may be able to remove the memory with minimum collateral. But a chaotic mind could force me to remove a great deal more than was necessary."
"So you could really fuck my brain up like that?"
"In a manner of speaking."
"Pass."
"The fourth option is that I allow you to keep this memory, trusting your word that you will tell no one what you saw tonight. Though not all of it may be believed, the wrong ears hearing what you have to say could cause me trouble. And I have enough to worry about without the police suspecting me of murder."
"That one sounds a lot less rough for both of us. What's the down side to it?"
"For one, you have seen something most people believe to be real only in storybooks. You know there is more to the world now. That is a heavy burden in itself. You will also be haunted by this memory. The terror was real enough that it will not go away so easily. Though you seem to be much calmer now."
"Believe me," Tanya said, her voice suddenly solemn. "I'm still scared out of my mind. That may be why I can listen to this so calmly. But you know, I was more scared of you than that other guy, and you say you won't hurt me. You've been pretty honest so far, so ..." her voice cracked. Swallowing, she tried again. "So I'll trust you on that one, if you'll trust me to keep this a secret."
"Very well," Inlé said. "But you should keep well out of such things again. For your own good."
Tanya turned on Inlé with a look he could not read, then teasingly said, "You're canceling our next date before we even set it?"
"You still want to do that?" Inlé asked.
"Of course!" Tanya said. "You think your being some kind of super-hero makes me less curious? I may go the way of Schrödinger's cat, but that in itself is an exciting prospect, right?"
Inlé shook his head. "I wonder what your children will be like."
"You shouldn't say that with such a cold face," Tanya pouted. "And I doubt they'll be as bad as yours, Running around, exploding people."
"Hardly." Inlé said.
Tanya stopped then, in front of the office where the two had met. "Well," she said, "I'm home."
"The office?" Inlé asked.
"Above it, but yes."
"So your father ..."
"... Is the doctor, yes. Does it make me weird that I work for my father?"
"Not at all. It was once the rule. And although it is not as common today, it is not uncommon. I would have wound up working under my parents, under slightly different circumstances."
Tanya smiled. "That actually makes me feel worse, knowing I have something like that in common with you. It makes it seem weirder. But thanks, anyway."
She patted him on the arm, then ran up the six steps to the entrance of her home. Before disappearing into the house, she called after the already retreating Inlé, "Try and spot me tomorrow before I spot you!"
*****
I sit in a tree across the street, waiting for my original and the girl to return. I have business with him, and intend to take care of it now. I watch as they walk up to her front door, their conversation too quiet for me to overhear. Or, perhaps, he is shielding their voices? It would not be so difficult. For him.
When the conversation ends, she pats him on the arm and skips up to the entrance of her home. Before disappearing into the house, she calls after my archetype, "Try and spot me tomorrow before I spot you!"
He walks on silently toward his home, and I follow him. I have only a short wait before he will reach my trap, and I will attack. With this, his soul will be laid to ruin, and my own will fill the void left in his body. I will have my own body.
But my trap is avoided when he turns aside into the first alleyway. He must have noticed me, I think. Well, let's see what he has planned. I round the corner, expecting him to be facing me, only to find something much different.
His back to me, the source for my being leans heavily against the brick wall. This in itself is disturbing to me. Long has it been since I--we, when we were one--have been so reduced. Independence is what allows me--him--to be what he is. Self-sufficiency is everything, and yet here he leans. The pool of blood, vomited from his lungs terrifies me. I--we--no, he has fought gods and spirits without being so reduced. What is it that I have missed while I prepared for you?
He looks so near death to me that I miss my step. The quiet scrape of rubber over pavement is enough to get his attention. Immediately, the wheezing gasp vanishes and the mask closes over him, implacable once more as he quickly turns.
My reflexes save me, as I vanish back around the corner, and hang on the wall ten feet above him.
"Who is there?" he calls. I am tempted to answer, but do not. I could destroy him without any effort right now, I think. But something else seeps into my thoughts. Pity. In me? Never. But there it stands, facing me angrily. This is the girl's doing, I think. I cannot stay in this host too long, it will destroy me. And yet, I can not bring myself to attack him now.
I wrestle with myself for a moment longer, then look around the corner. He is gone, and my renewed resolve is wasted. I realize it would be of no use to give chase. He would not walk if he believes himself being pursued. He is home already.
Cursing, I retreat to my host's room. I lay frustrated in her bed, then release my hold on her body. Quickly it returns to its native form, and I find myself musing darkly, surrounded by the dark dreams of this girl.
*****
"Inlé!" Titania cried as he walked into his room, tackling him as he closed the door.
"Quietly, Queen," Inlé scolded. "My mother is sleeping, and would not take well to strange women being in my room so late."
"Oh, poo!" Titania said. "She isn't even here."
"She is not?"
"No, she left for a play with Cecil."
"Mr. Selina?"
"I guess. I sort of wanted to follow them, but I didn't know when you'd be back. And I wanted to see you more than 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'."
"Very well," Inlé sat on the bed. "What did you wish to see me about, then?"
Titania started to say something, then froze. "I ... I ..." She pushed her face into Inlé's chest, then pulled her head back and cried, "I knew it! Take that shirt off, I'm fixing you. You went off and got in another fight, didn't you? You just look for trouble, don't you?"
"I do not. It comes to find me."
"All the same," Titania grumbled, pulling Inlé's shirt off. "You shouldn't be getting yourself hurt! How am I supposed to cuddle with you when you're broken? And you shouldn't let people hang on you when you're hurt, either!"
"You were the only one hanging on me, Queen."
"That's beside the point! Now lie down, I'm fixing this. It'd better have been worth it." She placed her hands over the already purpling areas on Inlé's chest. Her hands glowed, and the wounds rapidly went through the cycle of healing.
"It was," Inlé answered, resisting the urge to gasp with pain. "I now know where Claíomh Solais can be found."
"What? Don't get into a fight about something like that," Titania complained. "Especially when on a date."
"Ah. Now I understand why you are here."
"I wasn't here to see how the date went," Titania argued. "It has nothing to do with that."
"I said nothing of the sort, Lady. Thank you for your concern, but I should be able to recover easily enough from ..."
Titania pushed down on Inlé's chest just hard enough to stop his talking. "Easily enough from all these broken ribs? Not likely even though it's you, Inlé. You are strong and independent. But even the strongest are occasionally weak. Independence doesn't mean you don't need things from your neighbors occasionally. Relax. Let me do this for you. It's good to help, sometimes."
Inlé sighed, and closed his eyes, lulled by the spring hum of fairie healing magic.

Inlé stood in the void again, prepared for his double to appear. He waited, and waited, and waited. And he waited longer. Time moves differently in a dream: a day in six seconds, a minute in an hour. Inlé waited for what may have been years or no time at all, listening to the silent madness around him.
An echo sounded noiselessly behind him, and, turning, Inlé watched as his double approached. It was minute when Inlé first spotted it, but three long slow steps brought the two within speaking distance.
"Sorry," the double called. "I got a bit held up. Did you wait long?"
"Perhaps," Inlé answered. "What is it that you want?"
"Me?" the copy asked. "I thought you wanted to say something. It's hard for me to get here now, you know?"
"And why is that?"
"Duh. I'm not as much you as I was before. I'm changing," the double said. "Improving to destroy you. To take your place in the world above.
"Sorry about crashing your date, by the way. Just didn't seem right to let the girl down because you can't juggle business and pleasure."
"So you help me?"
"Maybe." the copy agreed. "Maybe not. Let's just say I did you no favors. Though the movie was good. And you stayed safe. I couldn't stick around after the movie, though. It's taxing to be in control. After all, if the host's put under too much stress ..." The double let the words hang.
Inlé watched his mirror image coldly as it sat and began peeling an orange it pulled from its sleeve. "Host?" he asked.
"None of your worries, Inlé," the copy dismissed. "Just remember that I'm going to come kill you and take your body as my own. You will be mine." The copy's arm warped slightly, then returned to its proper form. "Well, I'd probably better go. I can't stay here too much longer."
"And why is that?" Inlé repeated.
The double stared at Inlé incredulously, then shook its head. "Sometimes I wonder about you. You're so smart you're stupid sometimes. Do you realize where we are?
"This is the Borderlands of you, pal. That short gap between Ego and Id. Go figure yours is empty. Everything that is you is right here, right in plain sight. Well, it would be if there was anything. And so everything that is you--even in the slightest, like me--becomes quickly assimilated.
"I want to be you. But I want to be me while I do it, so sticking around too long's dangerous. Especially considering how hard it is to get in and out now. Christ, I changed so I'd be safer in here--and I am, to an extent--but it's forcing me to stay longer here than I'd like.
"Anyway, I'll take my leave." Inlé's double stood. "I've got other shit to deal with, and I have to be careful how long I'm away."
"And if I forced you to stay?" Inlé asked.
The copy laughed. "Not happening," it said. "You don't have the strength. I dunno what the hell happened to you, but you seem like you've been holding yourself up by force of will, mostly. If you weren't so god-awful strong, I'd have taken you by now. Of course, if you weren't so god-awful strong, I probably wouldn't be. Period. So I'll bide my time a bit longer." It turned and began to walk away. "No point if I lose anyway, right? I'll ... be in touch." It waved back as it left.
Inlé watched his copy wade slowly into the void until fully engulfed.

Waking, Inlé found Titania asleep, kneeling beside the bed. Her head on his chest, she had collapsed while recovering Inlé's more serious wounds. Upon slight inspection, he found himself whole.
He slid lightly out from under the exhausted fairy queen, then lifted her gently onto the bed. Materializing a light blanket, Inlé covered Titania and retreated to his corner. He slumped into a comfortable position, and found himself still fatigued. Titania had mended his body, but exhausted them both in the process. Sleep overcame him again as he heard the apartment's entrance close, heralding his mother's return.

"Inlé!" a voice called from beside him in class. "I win."
A girl, the blonde with fluorescent streaks, sat down on Inlé's desk in front of him. He thought for a few long moments before recognizing her.
"Tanya."
"The same," she replied. "Like the hair? Dad won't let me dye it for real, since I have to look 'presentable' at the office. So I just use extensions. Cool, right?"
"If you say so."
"Well I do. Maybe we should put a couple in your hair. You know, add some change and surprise people. What do you think, Miki?" Tanya asked, looking to her friend.
The asian girl at the desk beside Inlé's own said, "I guess. I mean, would it really look good, though?"
"Yeah," said their vibrantly red-haired friend. "He'd look too scary. We could paint his face, though ..."
"If he let us," the shortest of the four said, chuckling. "That's not likely, though."
Tanya sighed. "Too true, girls. Too true. Well, we'll just have to find a way to get him to give in and let us do it, then!"
"Do what, pray?" Mr. Selina asked, coming up behind the group.
"Oh! sir, good morning," Tanya said cheerily. "Sorry, I didn't notice that the bell had rung."
"It hasn't yet, miss Maslow. You have just enough time to get to your seat, if I am not mistaken," he said, returning to the passage in his book as he passed by to the front of the class. And he was exactly right.

The crowd surrounding Inlé at lunch was growing larger. As these people all set themselves around him, the chance for sleep became less and less possible. Still, he attempted to at least rest his eyes as he listened to the group around him talk.
"... how'd you do on the test?"
"Well enough, I hope. I got number six wrong, though."
"You too? Jeez, did anyone get it?"
"Which one was it, again?"
"Here, I wrote the question down to look it up afterwards."
"Oh yeah! Yeah, I missed that one too. What do you think, Jock?"
"What's the subject?"
"English. We're reading American Gods."
"Don't ask me, then. I'm not a reader."
"Jeez, did anyone get the answer right?"
After a short silence, Inlé's shoulder was shaken. He opened his eyes. "Yes?"
Jim, hand on Inlé's shoulder, said, "You know the test we did in English?"
"Yes."
"Well, we were wondering what the answer was for number six."
Inlé closed his eyes again. "I don't read the books."
"Well, yeah," Jim said. "Mrs. Reed's always complaining about that, but you still get good grades--"
"Which is mostly why she grumbles," Tanya added.
"--Right. So what was the answer to number six?"
"Number six?" Inlé opened his eyes.
"Yeah, it's ..." Jim reached for the paper with the question.
"Cigarettes," Inlé answered before the paper could be recovered. "Laura asked for cigarettes."
"How can you remember something like that when you don't even recognize all your classmates?" Miki complained. "You didn't even do the reading."
"I remember what I must," Inlé said. "Is that all?"
"Well," said Tanya, "Since you're up already, wanna join in the conversation?"
"No," he answered, closing his eyes.
"Well why not?" she asked.
Inlé was quiet until the rest of the group realized he wasn't planning on answering. They went back to talking around him, and he continued to ignore them as best he could.

That evening, Inlé again sat over his map, pendulum in hand. He stared at the map for a long time without attempting to divine anything. The stones resting in his palm, he watched over the world.
Finally, he reached out and rested his thumb on an area in northern New York, and stretched his pinky toward Maine, but did not set it down. It hovered a moment, then he took his hand away from the map. He stared pensively for a moment longer, then placed the pendulum on the map.
Pulling bracelets from his wrist, Inlé twisted the various bands ringing each of the bracelets. To the casual observer, each ring was a solid band of silver. But to Inlé, there were a dozen pieces separated by thirteen thin grooves, allowing the pieces to slide in various ways. Each different position designated a different ring elsewhere that Inlé used for transport.
Grabbing up the pendulum again, he gently manipulated the portals one at a time, and the iolite moved to points on the map. Many times it returned to the area where Inlé had kept his thumb, but few came closer to Maine, save a handful in Vermont. Once, Inlé reached through one of the bracelets and collected the band on the other side.
Sighing, Inlé returned the original four to his wrist and passed the other up the opposite sleeve. Then he held the pendant over the map again.
"Inveni. Choloepus avorsus. Deprehende." The stone swirled over the map, circling a few small areas.
"Inveni. Choloepus avorsus. Maine. Deprehende." The stone swirled over a few small areas in Maine. Inlé watched these for a few moments, then placed a pin into one of the points the map had circled.
He held the agate over his home and the iolite over the new pin, then said, "βρείτε ένα μονοπάτι για μένα μέσα από τα εδάφη της σκιώδους."
Immediately, the silver chain connecting the two writhed as if it were in pain, finally settling into a twisted, chaotic route connecting the two points. Inlé pulled a red string from his sleeve, and wrapped it around the solid chain as it shifted slowly.
When it was fully encompassed, Inlé said, "διατηρήσουμε και να ακολουθήσει," and the chain and string dropped lifelessly to the map. Pendulum and string were separated and returned to storage, then Inlé slipped to his corner and slept.

"There must be some reason you keep returning here," the orange goddess said, laughing at Inlé's appearance among the goddesses of magic once more as they walked to their meal.
"Perhaps," Inlé said, turning to follow. "But I know no reason, unless it is that one of you is in need of my service."
"Maybe you just like the free food," the black goddess said lightly, and the others laughed.
"Perhaps, Lady. Gifts of food have been surprisingly common of late."
"Food is important for a young man," the golden goddess chimed. "Especially one with such a rigorous job as yourself."
"My job is not so rigorous as you may think, Madam."
"Hmph, you don't get that banged up at an easy job," the red goddess said.
"I am healthy and well, Lady," Inlé said.
"Healthy doesn't have that much blood outside the body," she snorted. "And yes, it's cleaned up. No need to worry that people can see it. But you can smell it here."
"What happened, then?" the orange goddess asked. "It must have been something to get you so banged up."
"It was nothing. I merely needed to get information from someone who did not wish to give it," Inlé dismissed the Jackalope. "Under different circumstances, things may have gone otherwise."
"Tiredness aside, the feast waits for no one, and we had best enjoy it while we can," the green goddess pronounced. The goddesses fell upon their meal with gusto, Inlé joining them more reservedly.

"So what's up with that sword you wanted?" Tanya asked after school. She had convinced Inlé to walk her home.
"I was hired to retrieve it," he answered.
"That's some part-time job you picked up. What's it pay?"
Inlé shook his head. "Nothing, generally."
"Not even travel expenses? Jeez, why keep the job, then?"
"There are benefits to the position, but it is hardly something one signs up for. My position ..." he looked for the right words, "'fell into my lap'? or 'wandered in and never left', perhaps."
"So ... your whole family's not like you?"
"I was not born as I am, no. I was a fairly normal youth. Albeit I was being raised somewhat unorthodoxly."
Tanya laughed. "'Somewhat'? You're king of understatements, aren't you? Anyway, what's so special about that sword? It must be worth a lot, if you're willing to get roughed up like that, huh?"
"I suppose," Inlé answered. "Do you know much mythology?"
"Not really, no," Tanya said. "Never really was interested."
"Nor was I. Yet, here I am. The sword is called Claíomh Solais, the sword of light. The blade is said to be magically keen, so that it can cleave anything. According to the tales, whenever the sword was used it would cut its wielder's foes in half."
"So not something we want in the wrong hands."
"I suppose," Inlé answered nonchalantly. Tanya looked at him, baffled as he continued, "I was hired to recover it for the Faerie Queen Titania. Or one of them, at least."
"Titania like A Midsummer Night's Dream?"
"The same."
"I take it back. Your job's awesome. Looking for a partner?"
"No. Even were it an option, I would not allow it. If you get involved in this, you will die for it."
"Uh-huh. Like you have?"
"Sunday night, the better part of my thoracic cage was in shambles. The sternum was broken, as were fourteen ribs--some in more than one place. One comminuted fracture in the skull. Two cervical and three thoracic vertebrae cracked. The left lung was punctured, and the left kidney lacerated. Add the varied cuts and bruises, and I was more than half dead, for all intents and purposes."
"But you're fine now, right? It couldn't have been that bad."
"My doctor loves me."
Surprised, Tanya missed a step. She smiled as she asked, "Was that just a joke? Did Mr. Serious just crack a joke?"
"No. I said my doctor loves me, which is true. Had she not been available to repair the injuries I had sustained, I would still be healing today, and perhaps tomorrow as well."
"Two or three days to fix all that? You're crazy."
"I suppose so. It matters little either way."
They walked quietly for a few minutes. Tanya finally mused, "So my competition's a doctor, then?"
"Competition?"
"Well, she's after you, too, right?"
"... No. I did not mean she loved me in that manner. I would be far too young for her. I believe she considers me somewhere between a favorite pet and a memento of things past. But I cannot understand her intentions completely."
"Of course not," Tanya scolded. "What man can understand a woman?"
"It is somewhat more complicated than that," Inlé said, but Tanya ignored him.
"And what does age matter? What's ten years when you're an adult?"
"Nothing. But it is nowhere near ... "
By now Tanya had gone off into her own world and was dragging Inlé along behind her. "I bet she's wild about you and is despairing because you're so cold and unfeeling--you really should smile once in a while, it's good for you--and she pines away over her unrequited love. She probably even does weird things like sneaking into your room while you're away. Because it's you, anything's believable."
Inlé shook his head silently.
"What, you deny it? At this point, I would believe just about any crazy thing you said that involved you. So how old is she?"
"Twelve hundred or so."
Tanya looked quickly at Inlé. "I don't believe it."
"The doctor I spoke of is not exactly a doctor as you are accustomed. The person who healed me was the same queen who hired me to retrieve the Tuatha dé Dannan for her."
"I thought you said it was cleave solace or something."
"Claíomh Solais is the sword, yes. The Tuatha dé Dannan, or more accurately the four treasures of the Tuatha dé Dannan are what I was hired to retrieve."
"So have you gotten it for her, yet?"
"It is in Maine. I plan to retrieve it Saturday."
"Uh-huh. So you aren't doing anything Friday, then."
"I suppose not."
"Perfect. It's a date!"
"What?"
"The Halloween dance at school. You're coming with me, no arguments." She skipped up the steps to the office and ran inside before Inlé could object.