Reacquainted

omething exploded.

Well, something exploded in my dream. But it was still pretty intense.

I had to say, while I was aware that I was asleep, this newfound clarity to my nightmares was making them a lot more action-packed.

In this particular episode of subconscious exploration, I once again saw a dream version of myself. However, this time she was not on the beaches of Adelaide or some random dock. This time she was in a forest.

No, wait.

That wasn’t just any forest. I recognized the slope of the hills and the way the trees thinned in density as we descended. This was the smaller forest that led up to the entrance of the actual Forbidden Forest—the one we’d passed through a couple weeks ago.

Dream me, SJ, Blue, Jason, and Daniel were making their way through it, walking back toward town. No sound accompanied this image. Not because dream me and the rest of the group weren’t talking—it seemed like they were. It was more like someone had muted the audio of my subconscious and only I couldn’t hear them.

Even without sound, one thing was clear. Dream me was worried. She appeared anxious, like she was trying to convince the others of something with little success.

Like a candle being blown out, in the next instant everything and everyone in sight was extinguished from view. All that was left was blackness, leaving me unable to see anything past my own hand.

Wait, my own hand . . .

My spirit was no longer adrift witnessing this dreamscape. I was whole again. I could feel the ground beneath my boots and the cold air on my skin. I was here. Wherever here was anyways. For all I knew, I could’ve—

CRUNCH!

The sound came from behind me, and while logic indicated that it was just the noise of a branch being trampled beneath someone’s foot, my gut told me otherwise. It was too horrible a sound, this crunch. It was a noise comparable to that of a spine being crushed by the clenched fist of a giant.

“Get down!” a voice that sounded like my own suddenly shouted through the void.

I turned my head in the direction of both the crunch and the voice. The moment I did, I was forced to leap out of the way. A giant fireball plowed into the ground where I’d been standing. I may have avoided being hit, but I was still blasted back by its force.

Ugh, can dream versions of yourself suffer from head injuries? If so, I think I’d like to report one.

I was lying on my back on what felt like grass. My ears were ringing, and I clutched my head as I slowly sat up. I smelled smoke. I heard the distant sound of cannon fire. But I had no visuals to account for either. I couldn’t even see the flames from the explosion that’d just occurred. The ball of fire had disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. All that remained was the void.

I stood and dusted off my dress. That’s when I took notice of a distant glimmer.

I started toward the shining object. When I got closer I discovered it was another compact mirror similar to the one I’d seen in my last dream. Like Tara’s, it was contained within a sleek shell and had the words “Mark Two” engraved onto it.

As I approached the object, a silhouette began to come into view. I realized that the Mark Two was not simply free-floating in space, but being held up by a girl. Her figure was hunched over. Her sparkly black pumps had four-inch, silver-sequined heels. And she was shrouded in both shadow and a familiar, hooded purple cloak.

Between the shoes and the cloak, I recognized her as the same partially concealed figure I’d seen in my dream of the Capitol Building long ago, the one who’d led me to the antagonists’ bunker and who also seemed to be working for Arian.

I was getting quite close to her when I abruptly came to a barrier that wouldn’t allow me to go any farther. It was like an invisible wall that prevented me from getting a better angle on the girl and seeing her face.

Despite the hindrance, I still managed to see the face reflected in the mirror she was holding. It was Arian’s.

Unlike in my dream of Tara, the mark I’d left around Arian’s eye appeared relatively fresh here. It looked like I’d just done it. Which meant that this slice of the future was not far from coming to pass in my timeline . . .

Cloaked girl was having a conversation with Arian through the compact. Alas, it was at a volume of muddled whispers. I had to concentrate very hard to discern what they were saying.

“She’s better than you said she was,” Arian told the girl.

“Please,” cloaked girl responded. “She is just lucky.”

“I’d say very lucky given that she’s managed to elude us three times now.”

“She can only outrun you for so long. With that new toy of yours, you should be able to snuff her out no matter where she is hiding.”

“No thanks to you,” Arian said. “It’s a good thing our small, wicked friend was able to get us what you failed to.”

“Hey!” cloaked girl replied defensively. “How was I to know that the first one was a fake?”

Arian waved his hand dismissively. “Forget it. That doesn’t matter now. The point is that we need to change tactics. We started using the stupid thing back in the forest like you suggested, but it has only helped us find her, not capture her.”

“What do you mean capture her?” cloaked girl asked. “I thought our orders were to get rid of her.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint, but there’s been a change of plans. Nadia wants this one alive.”

Although I couldn’t see the cloaked girl’s face, I could tell by her sudden change in tone that she was definitely not happy. Her hand tightened around the mirror’s shell. “Please tell me you are joking.”

“Afraid not, sweetheart. Now that the girl has proven to be more of an adversary than you initially described, Nadia is actually looking forward to a little confrontation. You know our leader, big fan of the big dramatic moments.”

Cloaked girl was obviously pouting because Arian smirked and responded, “Don’t make that face, beautiful. It might freeze that way.”

The cloaked girl scowled.

Arian suppressed a chuckle. “Look, we’re still going to kill her eventually,” he reassured his hooded accomplice. “But this way it’ll be rubbed in her face a bit before it happens. You of all people should appreciate that.”

“Hmm.” Cloaked girl mulled over the thought. “I do like that idea.”

“I thought you might,” Arian said. “Now then, the other item you have is just what we’ll need to take the girl when we cut her off at the beaches of Adelaide tomorrow. I’ll be coming by tonight to pick it up, so meet me in the usual spot at half past two.”

“All right.” Cloaked girl nodded. “But why exactly? I understand its purpose in regards to Paige Tomkins, but how can it possibly be useful in this situation?”

“Four words,” Arian responded. “Crisanta. Knight. Has. Magic.”

“Crisa? Crisa!”

I bolted upright and glanced around.

Friends? Check.

Forest? Check.

Therewolves? Also check.

Okay, I was definitely awake.

The campfire was extinguished and both Therewolves and former prisoners were lazily greeting the morning. I squinted up into the sunshine to see Blue, SJ, Jason, and Daniel standing around me—returned to their normal human forms now that SJ’s potions had worn off.

“What time is it?” I yawned as I rubbed the crust from my eyes.

“You tell us,” Blue said. “You’re the one with the fancy new watch. Where’d you get that anyways?”

I looked at my wrist and saw the strange timepiece strapped to it.

The Hole Tracker . . .

Realization hit me like a battering ram and my memory came flooding back. I put my hand to my head and felt a bump where I’d been magically struck last night.

“I found the Scribes!” I gasped.

Jason blinked twice in surprise. “Wait, what?”

“I found the Scribes and the protagonist books! All the protagonist books!” I repeated as I hopped to my feet.

“Sydney,” I called to our Therewolf friend who was stretched out like a cat. “Hold down the fort!”

I bolted like a madwoman through the trees, skidded down the steep hills, and pushed branch after branch out my way. The others pursued me without question. After a minute I passed through the clearing with the tree where I’d met Harry last night.

I didn’t stop to explain, though. There’d be time for that later. The clearing with the Scribes’ cave was not far now, and whatever had knocked me out last night couldn’t keep me from finding it again. At least, that’s what I thought.

When I broke through the part of the Forbidden Forest that should have opened up into the desired field, I discovered a massive crater. Everything that had been there the night before—the cave, the books, the miscellaneous junk that littered the grass, even the grass for that matter—was gone. It was as if some vindictive colossus had uprooted the whole lot with an impossibly large shovel.

“It was here, I swear,” I said earnestly. “There was a field with all this weird stuff and a whole cavern filled with protagonist books. Blue’s was there, and Mauvrey’s, and everyone else’s I’m sure too. But I went into one of the back rooms at the end of the cave and when I wasn’t looking, someone—something—hit me from behind and the next thing I knew I was waking up at the campsite this morning.”

I stood there, sure that none of them would believe my mad rantings. Thankfully, Blue put her hand on my shoulder. “Calm down, Crisa. We believe you. The Scribes must’ve just moved everything when they realized you’d found them. They’re all-powerful Fairy Godmothers, remember? Uprooting everything and zapping it somewhere else was probably a snap.”

“Great,” I grunted. “I guess that means they could be anywhere.”

“Hey, guys,” Daniel interrupted. “What’s that?”

He pointed up. About ten feet above us and thirty feet from the ledge where we stood was a single, folded-up piece of parchment levitating in midair.

“Blue . . .” SJ started to say.

“I got it.” Blue drew one of her throwing knives and stepped forward.

She took aim then hurled the blade across the depression. The knife soared overhead and pierced through the parchment. Like an anchor, its weight yanked it out of the sky and to the ground. The five of us eased our way down the slope in its pursuit.

Blue was the first to reach the mysterious note. She picked it up and unfolded the parchment.

“So, what does it say?” Jason asked.

Blue raised her eyebrows as she read it out loud. “Nice Try, Miss Knight.”

“It does not,” I said, thinking she was joking.

“Hey, see for yourself.”

Blue turned the page over and I saw that she’d been telling the truth. Those four words were the only ones printed there. Nice Try, Miss Knight.

Aside from the sarcastic, swirly penmanship, the only thing worth noting about the parchment was the seal it had been closed with—a red, sparkling spiral design that matched the shape of the skylights in the Scribes’ library and the Capitol Building library.

“Getting off to an early start today aren’t you, Knight?” Daniel said. “Doesn’t it usually take you ’til at least midmorning to get on the bad side of someone new?”

“What can I say,” I said, shooting him a glare. “I guess watching you at work has helped me sharpen the skill.”

“It was a great try though, Crisa,” SJ quickly interjected before he could respond. “Really. It is truly impressive that you found the Scribes at all. I am not sure anyone ever has. You should be proud.”

“Thanks SJ, I . . .”

I paused as I registered something. “Hold on. Did you just say something nice to me?”

“Some would say kind,” she replied slyly. “But, yes. I did.”

Awareness struck me. The fourteen days were up! The witch’s deal had expired!

“You’re back! You’re all back!” I exclaimed.

Filled with happiness and relief, I threw my arms around SJ, then Blue, then Jason, and then Daniel too (by accident). My eyes nearly popped out my head when I realized what I was doing.

“Sorry,” I muttered as I tersely jumped away from him. “That was unintentional.”

“I hope so,” he said as he dusted off his jacket.

I shrugged, and looked at the rest of my group with a contented smile. “I’m so glad you guys are all, well, you again.”

“Please, we were always us,” Blue said. “You’re the one who reminded us of that. Now come on, we’d better get back to our furry friends before they start to worry.”

My group re-crossed the crater and journeyed back to the campsite. As we drew nearer, I started to hang back so that by the time we reached our destination I was at the rear of the pack with SJ. When Blue, Jason, and Daniel proceeded to rejoin the others I pulled her aside.

“So, um . . . Hi.”

“Hi,” she repeated. “Doing all right, Crisa?”

“Um, yeah, fine,” I said.

There was an awkward beat.

“Oh, hey. I finally figured out that whole thing about what I contribute to our team’s table,” I said. “At least . . . I think I figured it out.”

Before we’d gone to sleep the previous night, I’d had a conversation with Merilyn (a.k.a. the Therewolf formerly known as Not Blue). She’d told me how grateful she was that a leader like me had come along to organize the prisoners’ revolt. If I hadn’t, then her troupe might well have been under Pepperjack’s control forever.

I’d responded by telling her that I wasn’t a leader; I was just the one who’d thought of the plan. To mistake me for something else would be silly. How could I possibly be a leader when I didn’t even have my own junk sorted out?

Merilyn actually laughed at this assertion. “Yeah, you’re right,” she’d said. “What was I thinking? You’re not a leader. You just keep an eye out for the big picture without losing sight of what’s in front of you. You give direction that others listen to faithfully. And you consistently put everyone else’s well-being ahead of your own. I mean, you must’ve passed on at least a half dozen chances to escape tonight because you kept coming back to save everyone else.”

Her words had echoed in my head before I’d fallen asleep. And in the last few minutes during our silent walk back to camp they’d resurfaced, leading to the confession that spilled out of me now.

“I’m the leader, aren’t I?” I said sort of sheepishly. “Or at least I tend to fill that role in our group a lot of the time?”

“Is that a question or a statement?” SJ replied, responding to the reluctance in my tone.

I took a breath. “It’s a statement,” I said more certainly. “As dumb or ridiculous as it may seem given my shortcomings, I am a leader.”

At the very least I have the potential to be a leader. Maybe even a good one if I ever get my act together . . .

Iciness trembled my fingers. I held up my hand and watched it turn to liquid metal. Like it had earlier in the week, when the effect receded, the brand on my hand did not morph itself into a distinct word like I thought it would. Instead it merely flashed for a few seconds before returning to its former, blob-like state.

Hmm, according to that anticlimactic burst, being a leader clearly isn’t the important characteristic that makes me, me either. Regardless, I still believed in the realization.

“Has that been happening a lot?” SJ asked, startled by the phenomenon.

“On and off,” I responded. “It doesn’t bother me much. What does is this blob tattoo on my hand. If I never figure out my watering can quality, I’m not sure how I feel about it being branded there forever.”

“I can understand that. I do not know how I would have explained a tattoo to my mother if my mark were still there. Thank goodness it has run its course.” SJ lifted her own hand and looked it over. The “kindness” tattoo was no longer visible. It was gone just like the enchantment that had stripped her of the quality over the last couple weeks.

“That aside,” SJ continued, “I am glad you finally figured something out. You are a natural leader, Crisa. I am surprised it took you this long to see it.”

“Hey, I’ve been busy. Our Therewolf prison schedule didn’t exactly allot time for daily meditation. And the only time I ever tried to formally lead anyone back at school was when I ran for captain of the archery club.”

“To be fair I think you would have gotten the job if you had not tried to show off with those flaming arrows,” SJ replied.

“Ugh, Lady Agnue was so mad.”

“You burned down one of the detention towers, Crisa.” SJ smiled. “She probably thought you did it on purpose.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? Sometimes fate doesn’t suck.”

“Indeed.” SJ laughed. “Anyways, I am very happy you came to terms with your role. Self-realization is a wonderful thing. It brings both peace of mind and strength.” She patted me on the arm and began to walk away.

“SJ, hold up,” I blurted out. “That’s not all I wanted to tell you. I think we have some unfinished business that needs addressing. A lot’s happened in the last two weeks and I’m well aware that I still owe you an explanation for certain things. But now that you’re not magically unkind anymore, or a giant wolf, I wanted to see if you were, I mean, if we were good . . .”

Ugh, could that have been any less articulate? And I thought my attempts to make amends with her last night had been rough.

SJ inhaled deeply, letting me writhe before she coolly crossed her arms and responded.

“I am still upset with you, Crisa.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured as much.” I sighed.

“However, I want to assure you that this will not hinder our group’s journey. For, despite the fact that you are currently unable to trust me completely, I do still trust you.”

I took a step back out of surprise. “Really? Why? I mean, after everything I just . . . How can you?”

“Simple,” she replied. “I know you, Crisa. Maybe I do not know all your secrets or motives or reasons behind every ridiculous decision you make. But those things do not matter. You do not need to know every single thing about a person in order to see who they truly are. I realize that might not sound logical, but it is true. And as I said, I know who you are, even if sometimes you seem to forget yourself or refuse to accept it.”

I scratched my head. “Um, okay then. So you still trust me. That’s good. But what about everything else? I know there’s more you want to say to me than that.”

“I think I have said everything that I can without causing further rift between us,” she replied.

“Hey, SJ,” Jason called out as he came jogging over. “Can you come here when you have a minute? One of the Therewolves has a question about those ice potions you made.”

SJ nodded. “Yes, I shall be right there.”

Jason trotted away and she started to follow.

“SJ,” I said, stopping her again. “So . . . where does that leave us exactly?”

My friend released a steady exhale. “Let it lie, Crisa. As I was saying, I do not think it is wise for us to provoke the matter further given that we are to remain in such close quarters while we continue this mission.”

She made to turn away once more, but I moved in front of her. “SJ, come on. You can’t just pretend like you’re fine with all of this. Look where that’s gotten us up ’til now—two straight weeks of you slashing me with nasty comments and cruelty icier than those potions of yours. Both of which clouded your judgment and our ability to even be in the same room with one another for more than a few minutes.”

“Crisa, I was under an enchantment.”

“And now you’re not. So please, in all honesty tell me what you’re really feeling behind that naturally pleasant demeanor of yours. I need to hear it.”

“You really want to know so badly?” SJ asked quietly.

Seriously, did I really want to know? I’d been acting like a jerk and an idiot, so whatever she had to say was probably going to make me feel awful.

“Yes,” I replied in response to her question and my own. “I want to know.”

“Fine.” SJ sighed then swallowed hard. “I am myself again, Crisa, which means I can be kind. But that does not make up for the fact that I am hurt. We are supposed to be best friends. We have known each other for years and have been through everything together. There is absolutely nothing I would not do for you—no plan of yours I would not support, no trouble I would not help you get out of, no problem you could not come to me with. As I said, even despite your recent admissions of distrust, I trust you completely. Not just because you are our group’s natural leader, but because of our personal friendship. So, yes, I am angry. But more than that, I am disappointed.”

She took a breath. “Regardless, we have a job to do and a journey to take, neither of which can afford to be inhibited by such feelings. So I will not take them out on you. I will not tell the others about Natalie Poole being real or your ability to see the future in your dreams or your visions of Arian—”

“SJ,” I interjected, surprised. “I didn’t tell you about—”

“You were talking in your sleep again this morning. The others were not awake yet, but I was. That is beside the point though. What I am trying to say is that those are your secrets, Crisa. And you have to figure out why you are keeping them from us—your friends who know you better than anyone. Only when you figure that out will this bridge you have burned between us have a chance at being rebuilt, and will you and I truly be ‘good’.”

Huh. I’d been right. That did make me feel awful.

Much of what she’d said hadn’t been news to me. Daniel and Chauncey had already nagged me about needing to accept myself in order to overcome all those issues SJ just listed off. Heck, even the residual blurry tattoo on my hand was a constant reminder of that.

Yet, in spite of my familiarity with this kind of lecturing, hearing it from SJ caused the issue to be driven home much deeper. She wasn’t an enchanted object or a strange pig or my obnoxious boy tormentor; she was SJ. Listening to those words come out of her mouth made me feel as though I’d been blasted back by a bolt of magic stronger than the one that had shocked me last night.

I stood there like a statue as I absorbed the weight of her words, filled with a combination of humility and guilt.

I honestly thought she was finished with her lecture at that point. I mean, what else was there to say? Apparently I was a terrible friend and an enigmatic idiot with little to no self-awareness. However, evidently SJ was not done with me yet.

“One more thing,” she said. “I realize that it probably did not come across all that well, what with the insults and bitterness I was filled with whilst I was attempting to say it, but did you understand what I was trying to tell you last night? What I said to you just after we escaped from the Therewolves’ tunnel system?”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” I said wearily.

“Fine,” she declared. “I shall.”

My gaze dropped to the floor and I braced myself for whatever brutal words she had left to unload. But then, out of nowhere, something even more powerful happened. She gave me a hug. Not a half-hearted hug, or a patronizing hug; a real, everything-will-be-okay, best friend hug. The kind that I thought the wedge I’d created between us might’ve never allowed again.

“You may have a ways to go before you are able to do all that, Crisa,” SJ said. “But until then I will still be what I always have been—your friend, and here whenever you need my help. All you have to do is take it.”

She released me from her hug and began to head off to join the others, giving me a small smile as she glanced back over her shoulder.

“And I was too hard on you before,” she added. “You can still feel free to thank me later.”