“How can we go? How can we not go?”

Joseph argued with my mom, who could barely stand when she'd heard the news that we'd met a man claiming to be Raspy, my fiercest enemy. It made no sense, since we'd seen him months ago already in the middle of his evolution into a full-blown Shadow Ka, and now he looked human—withered to the point of death, but human.

“What do you mean, Joseph?” she pled. “How can we willingly go to a place where that monster of a man has invited us? I don't care if you think he's not the same—I don't care if he's spouting off some nonsense about being ‘healed’ from the Shadow Ka. We meet enough danger as is without seeking it out ourselves.”

My whole world was spinning. We'd spent a couple of hours in a dazed trance, unloading our belongings, finding a hotel, moving Dad with a blanket over him to hide his hideous state of being. His skin grew blacker by the hour, now, and the budding wings on his back were taking definite shape. It sickened me to look at my own father, and hope was draining from an already empty tank.

And just when a glimmer of a chance had sparked before us, the name Custer Bleak had come back to haunt us. Now Mom and Joseph were having a heated debate on whether or not we should keep our appointment with Raspy, or Custer, or whoever he was.

“Listen,” Joseph said softly, trying to calm my mother. “Listen to me. Your husband is on the verge of being the same kind of monster you just talked about. We should do anything, I mean anything, no matter how dangerous or how remote, to save him. If this guy is really Custer, then he has somehow ceased to be a Shadow Ka. I mean, how could he hide it?”

My mom could only shrug, not knowing what to say. She was just frightened for her family, for her husband—she was completely overwhelmed. I could see it in her eyes. Joseph continued.

“And if he's not Custer, or Raspy, or whatever we're calling him, then we have nothing to fear at all. Why he would make up such a thing, I don't have a clue. But my point is this: we have to go there tonight and see what that old coot has to say. We have no choice.”

Mom began to cry.

“Come on, Mom,” I said. “It'll be just fine. You keep forgetting that I have a few things up my sleeve. That old crusty guy won't be able to hurt me.” I looked over at Joseph. “To be safe, maybe I should go alone.”

Joseph shook his head like three hornets had just flown through his ears for some brain pie. “No way, boy, don't even think it. You and I are going, and that's that. I don't care if I have to hold your hand the whole time so the Shield will protect me—I'm going.”

And so it was settled. Rusty and I had a good talk, and even he agreed that Mom needed somebody to be with her, so he decided to not put up a fuss this time and stay. Of course, Rayna, Hood, and Miyoko were riled up to no end when they were told to stay, but we finally convinced them that more people would only complicate things.

It was decided that everyone would put their heads together and have another brainstorming session on finding the Northless Point while we went to our meeting.

Thirty minutes later, after a quick bite of Japanese fast-food (in which I swore I saw something wiggle just as I put it in my mouth), Joseph and I set off for our meeting with the very old man.

The air was cold and wet, and before long our clothes were damp and uncomfortable, even though it wasn't raining. We walked along a ways until we came to a busy intersection, and a long line of yellow taxis waited for our beck and call, like a giant metallic worm waiting to eat its next victim. Joseph being the adult and all, I let him figure out how to communicate with the taxi man, and soon we were zipping down the slick streets toward our destination.

Bright neon signs zoomed past as the Japanese man decided he wanted to impress the Americans with his uncanny driving abilities. Horns blared and incomprehensible insults from pedestrians seeped through the glass of the windows. Joseph looked over at me and we both burst out laughing at the same time.

“Hamburger French Fry, neh?” the driver said from in front.

In the back, we exchanged puzzled glances.

“Uh, what's that?” Joseph asked.

“Coca Cola hot dog,” he replied. “Harry Potter Britney Spears, neh?”

We weren't quite sure what he was talking about, so we stayed quiet and tried our darnedest to stifle our giggles. We failed something awful, and I'm sure the driver went home to tell his wife that the rude Americans didn't appreciate his amazing abilities with the English language.

After a few minutes of torturous efforts not to laugh, we arrived.

Joseph paid the driver, and we stepped out of the vehicle, telling him to wait for us. As the car idled, we turned and stared at the place in front of us. Joseph instinctively looked down at the piece of paper containing the address for our meeting. Of course, it was in Japanese, so we had no idea what it said. Miyoko had just told us it was an address and that the Taxi driver should know where it was located.

“Are we at the right place?” I asked.

“I guess so,” Joseph said. “But I sure didn't expect this. We must not have been paying much attention during the drive.”

We were standing in what appeared to be a large parking lot, empty of cars or anything else except for the taxi and the enormous object in front of us.

It was an airplane.