I knew that Micah had looked familiar, and now I remembered why- I'd dreamed about him the night before he showed up to save me.

I found it peculiar that Micah had been in my subconscious before I'd ever even met him. Maybe it had been such an emotional week, that it was playing a toll on my mind, manipulating images from my real life. Maybe I had never actually dreamed of Micah, but my overactive imagination was making me think it was him.

Even as I thought this, I knew it wasn't true. I had been dreaming about Micah since before we'd met, plain and simple. No amount of logic could explain why this would have happened, but it did.

Micah looked so different in the dream, that I hardly recognized him. Dream Micah was happy, constantly smiling, whereas I hadn't seen the real Micah show so much as a smirk; he only scowled.

There was something different about his eyes, too. Both pairs of bright green eyes belonged to Micah, but they were altered in my dream world. There was love and passion in them, whereas real Micah had a permanently hard glint.

A sense of melancholy came over me.  Why couldn't I get that side of Micah as a protector, the carefree man with the beautiful smile, and gregarious eyes? Instead, I got the intimidating, uptight version who blatantly hated me.

I glanced over to Micah, who was sitting near the entrance of the cave, fast asleep. In his unconsciousness, he looked younger and lighthearted, although he still had a hard crease between his eyebrows from worrying so much. He seemed so lost in his own dreams, that he wouldn't even notice if I left...

Now is your chance, I thought.

Knowing I would never be able to escape when he was awake, I had to seize this opportunity. I got to my feet and quietly grabbed my backpack. Holding my breath, unwilling to make even the slightest noise, I stepped carefully around Micah's limp body toward the ledge of the cavern.

Once I was at the cave's entrance, I let out a deep sigh. I was so elated at making it this far, that I didn't notice that Micah's deep breathing had stopped.

Suddenly, I felt a tight grip on my leg. I panicked and yanked my leg, resulting in me falling face first on the ground. I looked back with wide eyes, to see Micah's hand on my ankle.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, reaching out a hand to help me to my feet.

I hesitated. With a sigh, I reluctantly gave him my hand, and he pulled me effortlessly to my feet.

I had to stifle my gasp of surprise at the electric current flowing through me when our skin touched. I saw the fleeting look of confusion and wonder in Micah's eyes, as we gaped at each other. I knew that he had felt it too.

Micah pulled his hand from mine, and used it to rub the back of his neck, awkward. His features softened slightly.

A blush crept into my face and neck. I allowed myself to look up at him, peeking slyly from under my eyelashes.

From this proximity I could see that he was far taller than me, definitely over six feet. We were standing so close to one another that I could see every detail of his soft face- the small stubble of a mustache forming, a small, white scar below his lower lip, the way one tooth turns inward ever so slightly.

Micah was very handsome, that much I couldn't deny. If only his features weren't sullied by his anger and his bad attitude.

Micah noticed my staring. He cleared his throat awkwardly, and let his eyes fall to the ground. I blushed even deeper.

"Where were you going?" He mumbled, still not meeting my eyes.

"Just thought I would get an early start," I breathed, distracted by his closeness. I was thankful he couldn't read my mind.

"Right," he said. "Let me get my things and we'll go."

"I didn't mean us. I meant me," I emphasized.

Micah sighed. "Alexis, I've explained this to you. I'm your protector. I'm bound to protect you. It's my duty, my only purpose in life. Wherever you go, I go. I don't have a say in it, and neither do you. So you may as well get over it," he muttered.

I could see that hardened Micah had returned. Realizing that this man was just as stubborn as he was callous, I knew that there was no use in arguing with him. With a sigh, I watched as Micah extinguished the fire.

Then we leave the safety of the cave behind.

"There's some really good stuff in here," I said, as I scavenged through the remains of a dirty, camouflaged bag.

I pulled out a small bow and a quiver of arrows, setting them on top of a pile I'd been forming. Before we left the campsite this morning, Micah was clever enough to grab the hunter's sack, soaked from the nights rain, from the base of a rocky embedment. At first I felt guilty about taking his stuff, but my remorse subsided when I recalled the previous day's attack.

Micah and I were now sitting in an abandoned shack we had come across after hours of walking, each nibbling on deer jerky from the hunter's bag. Neither of us said a word as we watched the summer sun set behind the tree line.

It had been an exhausting day. Micah was paranoid the entire trip, forcing us to march at a brisk pace to cover as much distance as possible. This proved to be a grueling feat for me with my myriad of injuries. There were times when my bruised ribs burned so intensely, I felt as though they might catch fire.

Micah was unrelenting and showed me no pity. He continued to push me, giving minimal respite during the long journey. If it were up to him, we probably would have jogged the entire ten hours. But I wasn't athletic like he was, something he made sure to point out the during the journey.

He had also been adamant that we talk as little as possible, for fear of being overheard. It made the journey seem that much longer. In actuality, I thought he was just trying to avoid my questions, which I had a million of at this point.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going, or am I supposed to continue blindly following you?" I asked him through a mouthful of jerky.

"We're going to Kapanathy. I thought that much was obvious."

"But isn't that where this 'evil king' lives?" I asked anxiously.

I felt my heart starting to race. I put down my deer jerky, suddenly too nauseous to eat.

"There are different sectors of Kapanathy. The sector where the King lives is called 'Cattious'. Citizens don't actually reside there because it's almost impossible to get in and out of. It's surrounded by water on two sides, and on another side by a mountain range. The only open area is through a sector called 'Hodia', which is the control center for the Malin. They would die before they'd let us near the King," he explained.

"The sector of Kapanathy that we'll be going to is on the opposite end of Kapanathy. It is called 'Tueri', and is the area where protectors are trained. It's shielded by very complex magic and is probably the safest place in Kapanathy. The Malin wouldn't dare try to enter Tueri because they'd instantly turn to ash from centuries of incantations and charms."

"Is Kapanathy nearby?" I asked, thinking of my aching body.

"No," he said, a worried look flashing across his face. "Kapanathy is actually in another dimension."

"I'm sorry, what?" I asked, my eyes bulging in alarm.

"Kapanathy is in a different dimension. We have to travel there using magic."

I was at a loss for words. If I'd thought that everything else I had learned was a lot to handle, this was just the cherry on top of the chaotic sundae.

"If that's the case, then why can't we just teleport there right now?" I asked, feeling stupid for even saying those words aloud.

Micah looked like he was trying not to smile. "The entrance to Kapanathy had to be in a discreet area to avoid exposure, so the doorway is located the middle of the Mojave Desert."

"The Mojave Desert? Like the Mojave Desert in Southern California?" I asked, vaguely remembering the North Star symbol in this same location on the map at Jerry and Kate's house.

"That's the one."

"Surely we're not trying to walk all the way to California? That would take weeks!" I exclaimed, her legs protesting at the thought.

"Walking may be the slowest way to get there, but it's also the safest. It's the best way to avoid confrontation with the Malin. By now people will know to look for you in this world. I'm sure there's a reward for anyone who can bring you to the King, so we have to be more careful. They also know that you were born and raised in the mortal realm, and that mortals are lazy creatures. No offense," he said at the look that crossed my face.

"That means that the Malin will be looking at other modes of transportation- airplanes, buses, cars. The one thing they wouldn't expect is that you would walk across the country. Even though it will take much longer, you will be safest walking, and my sole purpose is to keep you safe, Alexis."

The idea warmed my heart. But my ecstasy was brought down by the idea of the long journey ahead.

"Why does it have to be in the middle of the desert, of all places?" I groaned.

Micah smirked. "The Council felt this location was ideal to minimize mortals accidentally running across the entrance."

"So are you saying that anyone can just walk into Kapanathy? Even people who aren't magical?" I asked, perplexed. "Then how does Kapanathy stay a secret? I'm sure that the moment someone walked through the barrier, they'd immediately go to a newspaper and tell everything."

"So far it's never been an issue. There isn't a lot of tourism in that part of the desert, so we rarely have non-magical people who stray through the entrance. Mortals often claim to see distortions in the air that they attribute to the overbearing heat- I think they call them 'mirages'.

"What they don't realize is that it isn't the heat messing with their heads. These distortions are actually entrances to Kapanathy, if they knew how to properly access them. Most people never realize this, and for those that figure it out, well, let's just say they won't be much of a threat."

"What do you mean?"

"Those without magical powers don't last long in our world. Kapanathy is protected by so many spells and enchantments that when a non-magical person encounters them, it affects them greatly. Many of them die immediately," he said.

I choked a little at the thought of all of the people who may have died for simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Their bodies are later found in the desert. Of course, the official cause of death can't be accurately determined because human knowledge and technology can't fully grasp the concept of magic. When the bodies are found the cause of death is usually attributed to dehydration or poison, but those of us from Kapanathy know better."

"What happens to the people who survive?"

"The ones who live are usually driven mad by their desires to return to our land and possess magical powers themselves. Our gifts are not something to take lightly. Certain people are chosen to have magic for a reason; we are strong enough to handle all that possessing them entails. Well, most of us anyway," he said, his eyebrows furrowing in thought.

I suspected that he was thinking about this 'King Casimir', and all the damage that he has done.

"Thankfully most people are naïve and don't believe in magic, so the individuals who survive are typically considered insane when they begin talking about some mystical land they found in the desert. They're usually placed in some sort of institution where their allegations aren't taken seriously."

"That's really sad," I mumbled, thinking about all of those people who may be ridiculed, even though they were telling the truth. I would have probably been one of those skeptics myself only a few short weeks ago.

"It's awful for them, but lucky for us. Mortals and witches don't coexist well together. People without magic are fearful of those of us who have abilities. The Salem Witch Trials and Joan of Arc are prime examples. We have to keep a low profile for a reason."

"I understand that, but have these people never heard of forests? Or anywhere closer to the eastern seaboard?" I grumbled. "If I have these supposed magical powers why can't I just fly us there on my magic broomstick?"

The semblance of a smile plays on Micah's lips for a moment, but he quickly composed himself. "This dimension doesn't have a lot of supernatural activity compared to Kapanathy. If you used magic while we're here, you would be sensed by the Malin much easier and they will come after you. Little spells and incantations are fine because they are more concerned with people who use more powerful magic."

"What do you mean by 'more powerful' magic?"

"All witches can do things that require small amounts of magic, like holding a séance for example. But to do more than that a witch would have to have immense amounts of magic at their disposal. Having the ability to do more than just the basics is very uncommon. These are the witches the Malin target."

"So they located me because of the magic that I did in Jerry and Kate's basement?" I asked, embarrassed.

"That was part of it. My assumption is also that the Taylor's wanted to confirm that you did in fact have powers before they contacted the Malin. With all the magical protections that house had, you'd never have been found if they hadn't called them. That's why we need to be discreet, especially now.

"Even if the Malin didn't believe Jeremiah and Katherine, they'll still be on high alert. We all knew at some point you'd make an appearance, but no one knew when that would be. Now that there have been possible sightings, the King will be sending out soldiers more frequently to search for you. They can't figure out where you are or they'll capture you and all hope for our people would die with you."

"I don't understand why they would want to kill me. I haven't even done anything."

"It's more about what you might be able to do," he explained. "Even though you may not believe in the prophecy, most of Kapanathy does. It's likely that the King will figure out you are the most likely person to fulfill that prophecy."

The idea of this made me anxious. It was one thing to think you might have some legacy to fulfill by one day taking on the most pernicious ruler in supernatural history, but it's another thing entirely when they're actively searching for you. The room began to spin, and I felt myself getting light-headed.

"Alexis, you're bleeding," Micah said in concern.

I moved my hand up to my forehead and found drops of blood on my fingertips. It seemed the hours of exertion and perspiration had caused my wound to reopen. I was now bleeding so much, I had to lie down.

"I can't stand looking at that bandage anymore. I'm going to have to change it," Micah said with a sigh, sitting down beside me.

My body's automatic instinct was to stiffen around Micah, a man I still considered to be a stranger.

He sighed, noticing my reaction. "I'm not going to hurt you. I don't know how many times I have to say that before it sinks in," he said.

"If I don't change that wound, you could get an infection and die. I couldn't exactly go back to Tueri and tell everyone I let you die from a head wound of all things."

I gave a small chuckle and felt much more relaxed. I had no reason to doubt Micah. As intimidating and uncaring as he could be, he had done nothing to harm me so far.

I scooted over to make room for him. I reached into my bag and handed him the first-aid kit. He turned toward me and unwrapped my bandage, giving a slight grimace.

"Is it that bad?" I asked.

"I've seen worse. It actually seems to be healing a bit," he responded nasally, as though he was holding his breath. He was beginning to look pale.

I rolled my eyes. "You're a horrible liar, Micah."

He crinkles his nose in disgust. "I just don't really like the sight of blood."

Before I could help myself, I let out an impulsive giggle.

"It's not funny," he said, wounded.

"No, you're right," I said, stifling my laughter. "I just think it's funny that you're this badass protector whose hell bent on helping fight some evil tyrant without any fear of what could happen to you, but the sight of blood makes you squeamish."

Micah's mouth remained impassive, but I could swear I saw a softening in his emerald eyes.

He opened the first-aid kit and rummaged around, finding some cotton balls and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. He dabbed the alcohol on the swabs and turned toward me, pressing the cloth to my forehead.

The combination of dirt and sweat in the open wound caused the alcohol to burn so profusely, that lights flashed before my eyes. My automatic instinct was to pull away, to flee from the source of the pain, but Micah placed his hand on the back of my head to keep me steady.

Unable to do anything else to find relief, I reached up and grabbed Micah's hand that was on my forehead, as though I would be able pull him off. When I realized it was futile, I settled for gripping his hand tightly to help me through the pain.

"It's almost over," he said reassuringly.

Eventually, the throbbing pain began to ebb. Although it was still uncomfortable to have the alcohol swab on my cut, it was no longer unbearable.

Now that the burning had eased, I was instantly aware of the proximately of Micah's body to mine, his hands on my head. I could see every perfectly smooth line of his face, the elongated, dark lashes that surround his beautiful eyes, the square of his jawline. He was so close that I could smell him, a mixed aroma of the outdoors and sweat. Surprisingly, I found it pleasant.

The thought of his hands on my body made my heart accelerate. It took all the willpower I had not to lean my face into his soft, tanned hands.

A blush crept into my cheeks at the thought. Micah cleared his throat and released his hands from my head.

Oh no. Come back, I thought to myself, pouting internally.

"I think that should just about do it," he said, his voice tight.

He reached into the first-aid kit and produced a roll of cloth bandages. Holding the cloth to my wound, Micah began to carefully circle my head with the dressing, covering my forehead completely.

I continued to sit awkwardly as he Micah tended to my wound, feeling embarrassed. As vexatious as Micah could be, I couldn't help the attraction I had to him. The allure he posed to me was irrational, something that frustrated my beyond belief.

He was handsome, yes, but he wasn't exactly the most congenial person I'd ever met. He'd been rude to me since the moment we'd met. I swore I wasn't going to let myself get wrapped up, but here I was, nervous butterflies fluttering obnoxiously in my stomach. As illogical as it was, there was an undeniable connection there.

Stop it, I thought to myself.

With everything going on in my life right now, the last thing I needed was a distraction.

Besides, he'd never be interested in someone like you.

I sighed inwardly, knowing that my subconscious was right. This gorgeous man would never want to be with someone as simple and unattractive as me.

Micah made it clear that he didn't think I was capable of being 'The Redeemer' of Kapanathy; the notion seemed to disgust him. The sooner I accepted the fact that I never stood a chance, the sooner I could focus on the task at hand.

"I guess we'd better get some rest," Micah said, sitting near the door so he can see outside.

I gave a nod, laying against the cabin wall. I away from Micah, allowing a single tear to escape my eyes.

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© Dawn Norwell