Chris was in the shade, sitting, taking one sip from his canteen at a time, not sure where to be or what to do.

He ended up just watching the Kāne Army obey Kimo's barking war cry. The man he'd known simply as his father-in-law was often addressed as General or General Jokura. Kale was either by his side or strutting around correcting sword positions; checking neatness, posture, attitude; and, in Chris's opinion, flaunting his number two status.

After a while, Chris grew restless, but he had already surpassed that awkward moment where he ought to join the others.

Soon, though, Joe came up from behind and slapped him on the back. "New lesson. You need to throw this at me as fast as you can." Joe handed him the ball.

"I like this lesson already."

"I knew you would."

They stepped into the bright afternoon sun. Joe jogged backward and when Chris stopped shooing him farther away, Chris threw the ball at him fast enough to snag a runner stealing second base.

Rarely in his baseball career had Chris missed that throw. He wouldn't have missed it this time either, but the ball acted as if it had hit an invisible wall. As it bounced in the opposite direction, its lightning-fast momentum was reduced to a wobbly hover. Then it hung in the air, motionless, and in the blinding sunlight, the red ball glowed like a planet in orbit.

"How did you. . . ?"

The ball dropped to the ground and Joe's eyebrows bobbed. "It's magic."

"Why did he teach you and not me?" Chris wondered out loud.

Joe simply shrugged. He was too consumed by the rustling grass at the edge of the clearing to offer more. "Look who's here."

Chris blocked the sun from his eyes with his hand so that he could see too—dark hair, pale skin, piercing eyes. Cassie didn't exactly blend in with the vegetation. "Mmmm . . . she shouldn't be here."

Joe grandiosely motioned for her to join them. "Why not?"

Cassie emerged into the sunlight, illuminating the area as if she was a light source. Her lavender dress, one he'd never seen her wear before, fell just at the knee. As she walked toward them with cautious poise, the air-light skirt moved with the breeze, exposing a hint of thigh. Her arms were bare to the shoulder, and when she lifted her hand to secure a loose strand of hair, she revealed more of her slim profile than she may have realized.

She didn't seem to notice the sweaty, muscle-clad warriors stop what they were doing to watch. But Chris certainly did. Their eyes were devouring every speck of her bare skin. If their nudges, whispers, and stupid grins were any indication, their minds were quick to fill in the blanks, painting a crisp image of what they couldn't see.

"Um, I don't know," Chris answered sardonically. "Maybe because we're surrounded by hungry flies and in walks the honey."

"Chris, this is one of those times where you should lighten up or you'll go into cardiac arrest."

Instead of lightening up, Chris doled out death threats with his eyes. If the soldiers were too dense to miss his face, they would undoubtedly notice his clenched arms, from fist to bicep.

"And what is going on with you two lately?" Joe went on. "She's your bodyguard. You're hers."

"Nothing!" Chris blurted too quickly, loudly, and defensively to be believable.

He knew it too, and Joe called him on it, from fluttering eyes to the sideways twist of his lips.

"Nothing," Chris whispered to correct himself.

And then Cassie was close enough to hear them. When she lifted her head, she made eye contact with Chris first. Her smile was subtle, yet her delight practically sparkled in the sunshine.

Before Chris had the chance to greet her, he heard his name called. Scott was waving him over to the edge of the field.

"Keep an eye on her," Chris warned in his brother's ear, and all he could give Cassie was a quick wave as he passed.

Chris joined his father, and Kimo and Kale came over. The conversation initiated by Scott was brief. Kimo nodded, Kale nodded, and before Chris could come up with a decent excuse to decline, he was following Kale to the center of what remained of the action.

Chris was supposed to be improving his swordsmanship with a more challenging partner than Joe had been. But after Chris blocked a few of Kale's aggressive maneuvers, Chris realized they were dueling. And now that the whole army had cleared off the field to watch, he really wanted to win.

"So, Kale, how long have you known?" Chris asked as he made his first counterattack, which Kale parried.

"A couple of years," Kale replied offhandedly as he lunged forward.

Chris dodged Kale's thrust and took a side swing at Kale as his balance recovered. "And you didn't feel like telling the rest of us?"

Kale avoided Chris's swing by lifting into the air with wings Chris did not have.

Cheater.

When Kale landed in a fresh spot, they circled around each other, crossing one foot over the other as they decided how to proceed. "I was sworn to secrecy. My father never wanted his daughters involved in this life. And besides, it's not like you and I were ever on good terms."

"Still, it would have been nice," Chris said, tension mounting with every step. "Your sister might still be alive had we known we were fairies."

Kale unexpectedly lowered his sword and glanced to the clearing's edge. "Who's the girl?"

His chest puffed out as if he were somehow worthy of her.

"I don't think you're her type," Chris taunted.

"And what type is that? She's not into tall, dark, and handsome?"

"More like rude, cocky, dumb as hell. Want me to continue?"

Kale responded with his fiercest attack yet. Luckily, Chris was able to deflect Kale's sword to the side. With their glares locked and blades crossed, they pushed against each other until they were both shaking.

"You know what?" Chris asked in a low, caustic tone. "On second thought, you should totally go for her. And I'll laugh my ass off when she brushes you off like a bug on her shoulder."

In response to that, Kale jerked his shoulder, breaking their impasse and knocking Chris back a few steps.

"I think I'm too late anyway," Kale said as he launched another attack. "It looks like she's into you."

Chris sensed a trap and didn't fall for it.

"No, I'm serious," Kale continued. "She's staring at you. I swear! Only you. She's practically undressing you with her eyes. . . Oh my God, she's. . ."

Chris only meant to glance. He could have gotten away with that, but his attention was zapped away from his control.

Cassie was talking to Joe, giggling, happy again, and Joe had never looked more self-satisfied. Didn't they only have eyes for each other?

Suddenly, Chris's sword flew out of his grip and Kale's in-flight body blocked out enough sunlight to fog Chris's vision.

With a two-footed kick to the chest, Chris was falling backward. He landed with full force on his tailbone.

Kale touched back down, snatching Chris's sword from the ground as he passed by. He lifted both swords to win the audience's approval. Then he swiveled around and threw Chris's sword back at him, hard and fast. The blade landed in an upright position in the ground between Chris's thighs, purposely a little too close.

"I'm sorry," Kale chided with his head cocked to the side. "My mistake. It looks like your brother got to her first. So how does it feel to be the loser at all things?"

Chris would have loved to knock Kale off his high horse, but no words came to mind. Kale didn't wait around for a response either, and he made sure to kick dirt at Chris when he strutted off.

Chris's dust-clouded eyes followed him. Kale joined his fellow Kāne warriors and received various congratulatory gestures—back slaps, high fives, mock punches. It was enough to make Chris sick to his stomach.

Soon Cassie and Joe came over and offered Chris a hand, but he refused to accept their help. "Thanks, but this is humiliating enough as it is."

"Eh," Joe said with a dismissive wave, "practically no one noticed."

Chris pulled his sword out of the ground and stood, wincing. "Don't bother lying to make me feel better. It's not helping."

"Does it help that I think Kale is a loathsome bully," Cassie added, "and I detest everything about him, including the ground he walks on and the air he breathes?"

Chris put his arm around her shoulders. "That does help. Thank you!"

They all laughed.

Chris also found it amusing that Cassie was carrying Joe's sword with two hands as if it were too heavy to carry with one. In a surprise maneuver, he nicked it and sprinted out of her reach. He no longer cared who was watching. Laughter, in this case, was the best medicine as well as the best revenge.

"Christopher MacRae! You give that back!" Cassie shouted, all smiles.

"I'll give it back, but you'll have to fight me for it."

He edged away from her, balancing the two swords in the palms of his hands. When she dashed forward, he smoothly bounced both swords toward the opposite hand. He snagged them by the hilts, spun them in a circle, tossed them, snagged them again, all while dodging her approach.

"Awww," Chris said with a fake pout. "Is that the best you can do?"

"C'mon, Princess," Joe put in. "Sic him! Wipe that smile off his face. Here—you go this way, and I'll go that way."

"Oh, so now you're ganging up on me? It doesn't matter. I'll still crush you." Chris took a few more paces back and started bouncing, swinging, and snagging those swords. "Whaaa . . . whaaa."

"Hey! That was only funny when I was doing it!" Joe lunged at his brother but missed.

"No. You're wrong. It's still funny. And I can actually pull it off."

Chris backed right into Cassie's open arms. She squeezed his waist from behind while Joe jumped for his sword. Chris was quick to swivel around. Then Cassie was leaping for the sword. He held it just out of her reach and raised it every time she bounced.

"C'mon, shorty, is that all you got?"

She paused for a second with a look of good-natured frustration. He thought she was about to give up, unwilling to encourage his uncouth behavior. But then she took a loud breath and launched her attack. She didn't have the strength to bring him to the ground, but she certainly had the enthusiasm. With Joe's help from behind, they almost had him.

Chris glanced away from the struggle just long enough to make sure Kale was watching. And he was. Oh, yes he was. . . .

When it appeared Cassie had had enough, Chris bowed and presented Joe's sword to her. She had earned it.

He put her in a loose headlock and the three of them started walking off the field, rosy-cheeked from the heat, exertion, and laughter. And Chris glared at Kale and his cronies with his dignity restored.

Kale was sitting against a tree root, stewing toward a boil. His followers were scared silent, but watchful, holding their breaths, waiting for Kale's reaction. Would he snap?

Chris recalled seeing Kale like this the day Alana told him she was moving to Massachusetts. Only Alana's tears prevented bloodshed and some very choice words.

Kale took an exaggerated swig of water from his canteen as if to emphasize that he was lubricating his vocal cords. "It's no wonder my sister's dead," he shouted. "Her husband could have defended her, but I bet he cried like a baby and begged for his own life."

A little voice in Chris's head told him to let it go. But sometimes he didn't feel like listening to that irksome voice of reason. He removed his arm from Cassie's neck and clenched his fist around his father's sword hard enough to make his knuckles hurt.

"Chris, don't do anything—" Joe began.

Chris catapulted his sword into the crowd. The knocking sound of the hit and the ring of the blade had the crowd gasping and stepping aside. Chris's sword was embedded in the tree root disturbingly close to Kale's left eye.

"Stupid," Joe finished in a voice as dry as desert sand.

Chris was initially pleased with himself. "What? I wasn't actually going to hit him."

"You could have taken off his head!"

"Joe, when I throw something, I don't miss."

"Okay, Chris. You keep telling yourself that."

Not rallying any support from either Joe or Cassie, Chris ducked his head and continued walking off the field. He didn't have to look up to know that everyone was sending hate in his direction. Kale was the general's oldest son, the pride and joy of the Jokura family. And Chris had pulled a stunt that no one in their right mind would even consider. Chris knew he should have regretted the choice he'd made, but he didn't, not for a moment. Kale had no right to speak to him like that.

Chris glanced up only once and captured the ashamed glare of his father. He then barged through a wall of plants and tromped through the jungle. Chris arrived at the hut many long minutes before anyone else did. The extra minutes didn't help, though. He was still pacing around aimlessly when Cassie and Joe came inside.

Then the door flew open with a bang. "Chris. You. Me. Outside. Now!"

Chris followed his father without question.

In silence, Scott led Chris farther away from the hut than necessary. He eventually slowed to a dramatic pause and turned around to say, "Well?"

Chris stopped too and kept away from him by more than a body length. "Well what?"

"How about, for starters: What the hell were you thinking?" Scott went on, his voice raised. He wasn't really a yeller, so he had to be furious.

"Nothing! I mean, I was thinking Kale got exactly what he deserved. You heard what he said! Everyone did."

"Life isn't always about getting even! You could have killed someone, and we need allies here, not more enemies. If you feel you can take on the evils of our world with only your sword and your pride, go right ahead. But the rest of us know better."

"Look, Dad, I never planned to make enemies. I was fine avoiding Kale. And then you came along and paired us up. We've never gotten along. Don't you remember? The bruises surprisingly similar in size and shape to Kale's fist? So why would you put us together with swords in our hands?"

"I thought you might learn something if you were challenged," Scott explained. "And I don't care what happened in the past. Exhibit some self-control and fix this so we can all move forward. I want you to apologize to Kimo and Kale and resume your training, or you may as well pack your bags."

His father wasn't bluffing. And Chris wasn't quite ready for banishment from two worlds. So, he conceded with a loud sigh. "Fine. But I'm not happy about it."

"And no more horsing around with your brother," Scott added. "And tell Cassiopeia to stay away. She's obviously too much of a distraction."

"Why do I have to tell her that?"

Scott gave Chris a look that said, Obey, or else. "I have to go smooth things over, and you'll do the same in the morning, after you cool off. I'll be back later. Try to stay out of trouble."

Scott vanished in the deep green of the dusky jungle. The sun was about to abandon them for the day. Chris could already feel the loss.

When he returned to the hut, Joe and Cassie were making dinner together like an annoyingly cute married couple. They both paused to exchange nervous glances.

Chris pretended not to notice and pulled a seat out from underneath the table. He sat down in it backward with his arms resting across the top rail.

Joe strolled over and leaned on the table with both hands. "So, what did Father Dearest say?"

"The usual. I'm stupid and irresponsible. And if I don't apologize, I'll get kicked out of fairyland."

"You may have to apologize," Cassie said from beside the kitchen countertop, "but I'm not about to. Tomorrow, I'll give this Kale figure a piece of my mind."

She came over to the table, handing Joe four plates, and she returned to the kitchen area. And she did not look back. She had no reason to suspect the course the conversation was about to take.

Chris stood, followed her a few steps, and watched her add greens, spices, and flower petals to a bowl. She sniffed and then measured each item in her tiny palm, not a granule shy of perfection, he was certain. But she must have sensed his nervous energy because she set down the long stems and turned, looking directly up at him before he was ready.

"As much as I'd love to see you put Kale in his place. . ." Chris began, fumbling to a pause. "I'm sorry I have to say this, but . . . well, um . . . Scott thinks you should stay away from the training grounds."

Her eyes narrowed and her head pulled back defensively. "Why? What did I do?"

Chris put his hands up to placate her. "Nothing. Not at all, it's just—"

"Shouldn't I be trained for battle?"

"No . . . I mean, yes, by all means, except that—"

"It's because I'm a fem-fairy, isn't it?" she said.

Chris sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He was trying to tread lightly on this issue . . . and he was failing . . . miserably. "Well, that's part of it."

"What's the other part?"

Chris looked to Joe for support. With his arms crossed and body slouched in the most distant chair, Joe only gave him a you're-on-your-own smirk.

"Don't worry about it. It's not that important." Hoping that would end the discussion, Chris withdrew to the fireplace. He could feel her eyes follow him there and had to face the fact that she would demand more from him.

She took a step closer. And then another, her arms tightly crossed. "Maybe to you! What did he say?"

Chris squatted and stalled as long as he could by prodding the fire. "Please keep in mind I am just the messenger. If you really want to know—"

She was almost beside him. "I do."

"He said you're a distraction."

"What a sexist thing to say!" she quickly retorted.

"I-I know," Chris stammered, rising to a stand. He was a head-and-a-half taller than she was, but she had a way of narrowing that gap and landing on top when she put her mind to it. "I didn't say I agree with him."

"And what am I supposed to do while you two learn how to conquer the universe? Sit pretty, make meals, tidy the kitchen?"

He didn't answer.

"In case either of you have forgotten, I rescued you from Andromeda's guards, and led you from Pyxis. I have proven myself capable of a great many things, and my part in this battle should not be small. If you fairy-males could stop being so 'distractible' and exhibit a hint of discipline, then you might accomplish something as well. Perhaps we'd be able to win some of these wars!"

Cassie strode off, vanishing behind the curtain of her room while Chris stood there, stunned and speechless.

With one arm, he leaned on the wall over the fire. He stared at the flames as their heat and volume tapered off.

When he turned to walk away, a piece of paper fluttered on the mantel. He may have overlooked it, but there was something familiar about it. He reached for it—the note he had written to Cassie that morning. Joe had doctored it up to make it as humiliating as possible. Below all the hearts and the "I love you," Joe scratched out his own name and put "Chris" at the bottom.

Out of the corner of his eye, Chris saw Joe shrink in his chair. Chris wanted to yell, explode, something, but Joe was the only one who wasn't mad at him.

Give it a day or two, he thought. That'll probably change too. . . .

Chris crumpled up the note and chucked it into the fire. The paper caught the flames and gave the entire room an extra burst of light. Then he stormed out of the hut and went straight to the lagoon.

He dived, swam, broke the surface, and when he looked up at the purplish sky, Chris wished he never needed air again. Underwater, his heart rate slowed, the pain, from raw skin to strained bone, dulled by half, at least, and his many misdeeds in life seemed less debilitating.

He went under again and held his breath for an uncomfortably long time before surfacing with a gasp. He repeated the submerging and resurfacing process until he was ready to face his extreme new world with a clear head.  

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