Fire.

I'd say there was ash, but there was nothing to burn. No landmarks, no buildings, and no plants. Just flame. Flame burning red, twisting, and curling like claws ready to tear. The sound was like something out of a massacre, popping and crackling like dry bones under a car tyre. Or maybe a stadium full of screaming demons might be a closer comparison.

All in all, not the best vision I've ever had.

Now I'm not saying my little dreams are pleasant anyways. Usually, they end up with someone getting murdered in increasingly gruesome and creative ways, but I at least know that at that moment, at least I'm not the one with a needle in my stomach. I guess what I'm saying is that while I'm often scared "to death," I generally don't feel like I'm actively about to kick the proverbial bucket.

This was not one of those occasions.

I came too surrounded by what should have been comforting, what should have been my protection and greatest weapon. For a moment, I genuinely thought I'd wound up in Hell, but old H-E-Double hockey sticks is Disneyland compared to this. And I've met demons and been forced to read Dante; the worst bits of Hell aren't actually on fire.

This was...evil. There's no other way I can think to describe it. From the colour to the unnatural twisting shape to the hiss of a thousand hungry voices, it was just...wrong.

I don't know why it was showing me this. Maybe to scare me or prepare me for what was about to happen, but for once, I didn't need Sheira to hold my hand on this one. It doesn't take a genius to work out what the Plane of Fire looks like.

It also doesn't take a genius to work out that I wasn't alone. I mean, I'm never alone in my dreams, but this was different. The fire was everywhere except for the rough proximity of yours truly, who just happened to be standing under a small dome of crackling golden light. My heart skipped a beat as a thread jumped out and sparked against a stray flicker of flame.

Lightning.

I spun on my heel and saw exactly who I was expecting. The bull looked more bull-like than I'd ever seen him. His skin was golden and crackling with energy. Sparks shot off from his body at random intervals, leaping and striking at the ground like those plasma balls your cool friend had in primary school. A constant stream of electricity curled around his nose in a perfect ring and jumped between his upturned horns. Green eyes watched me carefully.

Green eyes...that's why I wasn't sure who he was. Did that mean he was the Beast or... "Dad?" I asked.

The bull managed to look hurt but not for that reason. I think he was upset that he wasn't who I thought he was. He shook his head, and electricity snapped from his nose ring. "No. Sadly not. Your father made a deal that part of him could stay in this world through me. That's why I have his eyes, but I'm not him."

I mean, I knew that was the answer, but I still felt disappointed. "So you're Toro, then?"

"That's me."

"And you're my dad's Beast?"

"Yep."

I blinked at him. "And you're the one for all this," I gestured to the burning world.

Toro's eyes narrowed in a painfully familiar way. Dad rarely gave me a telling off, but when he did, hoo boy, did I know I was in trouble. "If you mean fire, death, and destruction, then no, that's your doing. I hoped your father's stubbornness would somehow skip a generation, but you've done everything in your power to prove me wrong." Sparks shot from his nostrils. "If you weren't actively dying, I'd be impressed."

"Sorry about that," I apologised sheepishly, but I wasn't done talking. The source of my dreams was in front of me and talking. I had so many questions that I was practically buzzing. "But you're the one who gives me my dreams, right? How do you do it? Why do you do it? I mean, I appreciate the heads up when we're about to be murdered and everything, but why do you have to show me all the dismembering and melting and pain and death? And why-"

I didn't get any further. A colossal boom rang out through our little dome. Loud enough to make my eyeballs rattled. I looked up quickly and caught the tail end of a pillar of fire lashing against the electrified shield. My excitement at finally meeting Toro sputtered and died like a diesel engine in minus forty.

Toro pawed nervously at the ground and sighed. "Look, Nick, I appreciate you have questions, and if you make it through the next twenty-four hours, I'll be happy to tell you, but this isn't the right moment."

More fire clawed against the barrier, trailing sparks, and it bounced off. "You're protecting me," I said, the truth suddenly dawning on me. "You're why it's not killed me yet."

"Yes and no," Toro didn't take his eyes off the onslaught outside. "Your heart is why you didn't die immediately, but I'm keeping the flames from your mind. This stuff can control you and jerk you around like some freakish puppet. It can even steal your voice." His green eyes turned to face me, "but you already know that don't you?"

Damn right, I did. That wasn't my voice when I snapped at Sheira, and that sure as hell wasn't my laugh, either.

"You would've felt the effects earlier," Toro went on, "I managed to shield you from the worst of it, but if I'm honest, I'm not sure how much longer I can hold out. Look!" he tossed his head upwards. "Can you see the cracks?"

Why yes, I could see them. I saw them earlier and was really hoping they were anything but that. Now and again, a sliver of red fire slipped through, clawing at the edge, trying to widen the gap. My stomach sank at the sight of it.

"What can we do?" I asked quietly.

Toro didn't respond. I felt him slowly pad beside me and place his damp nose on my shoulder—a static shock shot through my neck, which reminded me even more of Dad. When I was little, I wondered how he never seemed to run out of electricity. It seemed so obvious now. "I'm afraid I'm out of options. The shield will fall in a few hours and block me out with it. I won't be able to protect you or guide you. I'll be powerless to warn you if you're trapped or ambushed. You three will have to deal with this on your own."

"But what about you?" I said uncertainly. "If I get rid of this, you'll come back, right?... Right?"

The bull shook his head. "I don't know. I wish I did, but I don't. I don't know how this-" he jabbed his nose at me, "-works. All I know is that your father linked us with a sigil that was supposed to activate when the cloaking one dropped. I don't even know the name, and in all fairness, neither of us predicted you'd be this much of a dumbass!"

Well, that felt a bit rich. "Dad tried to steal a lightning bolt from a thunder spirit," I pointed out. "How could I be anything but a dumbass!"

Another bone-rattling crack followed; this time, I wasn't sure if it came from the dome or the cheesed-off bull in front of me. "Regardless of your shared stupidity, you need to live through this. You have no idea how important you are, not just to your friends and family. Molly and her empire have to burn. Understand?"

"I know, I know! But what do I do? I'm weak, I'm angry, and I can't even summon up an ember. That's not even considering the fact that I feel like sh-"

I got swatted for that one "Language." Yep, definitely Dad's Beast. "You know where the Rift is. You know how to get there and what to do, but you can't do it alone. Shadow and Sheira will drag you there if they have to. No matter what the Fire says, they will not abandon you. Hold onto that. It's not a good memory that can be twisted; it's a fact. It can't take that because it's the truth. If you keep that in mind, you might just make it." He considered for a moment. "And maybe come up with a failsafe with those two if you decide to go off the rails."

"After all I've put Sheira through, I'm sure she'll jump at the chance to knock me out."

"Atta boy."

With that charming affirmation of my best friend possibly laying me out with a haymaker, I turned my attention back to the literal firestorm on the other side of the shield. There were more cracks than I'd seen at first glance. Some were glowing like they'd been hastily patched over. Others were open, allowing smoke to force its way through, and it was getting through. Embers started raining down from God knows where and since when were my feet covered by smoke?

This didn't go unnoticed by my new (well, technically old) friend. "We're running out of time," Toro said quickly. "You need to wake up. I don't know what it'll do to you if it destroys you here."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Let's not find out."

"But before you go, there's something I need to tell you. The Fire is alive; it can think; it knows you're close to getting rid of it. It will do anything to try and burn you."

"Burn me?" I frowned. "I thought it just needed me to die."

"No. If you drown or fall or get killed by someone else, it dies too. You must go up in its flames, or it can't claim you."

I swear to God, as soon as the words left his mouth, the fire outside roared. Scouts honour that thing turned blood red and let out an inhuman screech that would have made a marine go, yeah, no, I'm cool with death. The ground shook, and our shield pulsed- no, flickered, like a bulb about to blow.

And if Toro's face was anything to go by, that really wasn't good. He started talking faster and didn't even try to hide the pure panic in his voice. "Listen to me, Nick; it will do everything it can to trick you. It will lie, put you in harm's way, and make it seem like it's the only way out. It failed twice. It will not fail a third time. Don't listen to it, you hear me? Do not-"

And that's all, folks. With another bang, the world went white, and I jerked back to the land of the living, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath like Leo had come back for round two. To be fair, I was more annoyed than scared. Like seriously, why do dreams always have to end right at the good bit? Hey! Screenwriters of the universe, I'm looking at you!

We were back in Penny's palace, surrounded by trees and the same ethereal mist that I still couldn't work out where it was coming from. Penny was nowhere to be seen, but she'd floated off to prepare our game. I sat up groggily. Ugh, how long had I been asleep? I felt like I'd had one of those supposed to be a power nap, and the next thing you know, it's midnight and your body clock's screwed for the next three days' nap. I think we've all been there at some point.

Not that time meant anything in faerie, but I digress.

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and blinked. Sheira was just about getting up from her nap and was staring at me with a mix of concern at my freak out and annoyance that I'd dare wake her up. Shadow smirked from his seat across the room.

"Morning, sunshine."

"Ugh."

"Some things never change," he muttered. "You've been asleep for three hours. Penny came in once to give us an hour's warning about thirty minutes ago."

I rolled my eyes. "What happened to you being 'exhausted?'"

"I'll sleep when I'm dead," he said with a knowing wink.

That got a chuckle out of Sheira, who had stumbled over to a small round table. Her eyes were screwed shut, and she was bracing herself on the stone like she was either hungover, had a migraine or both. When she finally came round, she spotted a plate of sandwiches that weren't there when I passed out.

"I thought she was trying to get rid of us," she muttered, prodding a BLT like it could explode at any moment.

"Oh, she does," Shadow got up and dragged me to my feet with surprising gentleness considering it was him (Usually, the dude tries to pull my arm out of its socket) and over to join her. "Those are from me. Figured you'd be hungry."

"And you figured correctly," I said, already on my third ham sarnie and reaching for a fourth. "Mmm. These are good. Where'd you pinch them from?"

"Westfield Waitrose and I didn't pinch anything," he protested. Yeah, right, mate, and you didn't pinch the crown jewels for a dare, either. "I left cash for them. God knows what, but it will be an interesting day for whoever was on that till."

I smiled at the thought. Shadow could summon things to him (so long as they were covered by darkness), and we'd mercilessly used/exploited this free stuff loophole. I promise we only took small stuff, and Shadow always left money, but those loose coins tended to come from the enormous pile of gold slap bang in the middle of his vault.

Would it be solid gold doubloons today or a silver piece from ancient Rome, I wonder? Okay, I admit that sometimes people have gotten modern currency, but let's be honest; your chance of getting a few quid is slim to none.

I'd finished slamming my second diet coke when I realised Sheira was looking at me. And it wasn't a good look.

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

I swallowed. "What d'you mean?"

Shadow gave the once over and frowned, "you look like crap, kid. What's wrong? Did you have a dream?"

"Sort of," I said and then I gave them the short version of what had happened with Toro. It didn't take long, five minutes tops, but when I was done, they had gone down a few shades on the old Pantone colour spectrum. Sheira could've been used as a perfect sample for a trendy suburban wine mom's new kitchen (off-white with a tint of Pinterest aesthetic).

"Well, that's not good..." she said eventually. She still hadn't let go of the table.

Shadow sighed. "It explains a lot, in any case. This stuff basically possessed all the corrupted elementals I've ever met. Most of them had to be locked up. For god's sake, I knew someone who was exorcised when the church got hold of her. Wasn't a pretty sight, and they never found the house after the sinkhole swallowed it up."

"And you're sure he said we've only got twenty-four hours?"

I nodded and felt my heart sink as Sheira buried her head in her hands. I leaned over and gently rubbed her shoulder. "It's okay. That's plenty of time. Right Shadow? How long do these games usually take?"

He must have caught my pleading expression and nodded enthusiastically. "He's right. These things have a time limit. We'll be out and on our way by morning...providing one of us doesn't die, of course." He added.

"Shadow," I said.

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

Unsurprisingly my dark-haired friend decided to drop the conversation, but Sheira visibly perked up. Maybe she was more interested in spartan kicking me into a pit to the centre of the earth than I first thought. She took a drink from a can of cola before brandishing it menacingly at Shadow.

"You. You've done this before. What's going to happen to us?"

"Honestly? I genuinely don't know." He waved his hands around vaguely before realising that Sheira looked like she was about to slap him. That got him elaborating a bit more. "The last time I was here, I played a different game. I don't know the rules, but whatever it is, it will have a very high chance of killing us. If we're in luck, it'll finish us off quickly."

"What did you play?" I asked.

"'London Bridge is Falling Down'. Pretty self-explanatory. We had to cross a bridge and collect three stones, but every platform we stood on had a chance of dropping out from under our feet."

"That doesn't sound so bad...." But Shadow cut me off.

"Did I mention that the pit beneath us was filled with razor-sharp spikes?" Sheira sucked in a breath. Shadow nodded grimly. "Yeah not fun."

I stared up at Shadow. "No offence, dude, but Penny said you lost."

"Yeah...I...uh..." he rubbed the back of his neck and didn't look either of us in the eye. That wasn't him being stressed or annoyed. I'd seen that look a thousand times, notably when Rory Prescott from year ten accidentally ran into the girls' bathroom. That was embarrassment. "I don't know if you've noticed by now, but I'm not...uh...great with heights. When I'm on solid ground, I'm fine, but when things get unsteady I...." Sheira gently reached out and patted Shadow on the hand. That seemed to snap him back to reality. "Well, I'm sure you can fill in the rest from there. I fell and got impaled, but I got it through the heart, which stopped me from breathing, so I technically died for about ten minutes. Of course, I came back when Penny un-staked me, but by that point, the game was over, and no matter how much I tried to argue, she didn't budge. We'd lost and would've left empty-handed if it wasn't for my friend."

"You mean Light?" Sheira said gently. She was going cautiously, and I, for one, couldn't blame her. We were both well aware of what happened last time we pushed Shadow's patience too far.

This time though, we dodged the dark bomb of rage. Instead of yelling at us, Shadow chuckled. "Yeah, that's the one. He's the other immortal I wandered around with, and he was a complete nutcase. Reckless, charismatic, flirted with everyone and duelled anyone that had a problem with that. Finest dual wielder I've ever seen. Could carve through ten people in just six strikes. He had a proper gift of the gab as well, a real charmer...well, when it worked. Whenever he opened his mouth, he had a fifty-fifty chance of getting us out of hot water or making it a thousand times worse."

"Sounds like my kind of guy," I said.

"You both would've loved him. You should have seen him, princess," he said to Sheira. "After I stopped arguing with Penny, he stepped in and did some real sweet-talking. We needed information, you see, about the Unseelie Court, and we couldn't complete our job without it. He went at it like a fight, all moves and countermoves; it was incredible. By the end, he managed to get her to agree that since he didn't die, he could still get the prize on the condition that he didn't tell or write it to another living soul. "His grin spread even wider, "I think you can guess where this is going. As soon as we left the greenhouse, he went straight down to the Crossroads, found a clay golem, wrote the message, popped it in its mouth, and then it parroted it back. Penny was naturally furious, but she couldn't do anything about it since he hadn't broken the rules."

"That's bloody brilliant," I gasped with my best Ron Weasley impression.

"Better than brilliant," Sheira added. "He tricked a faerie! That's just- just- well, genius!"

"Yeah..." What had just been a happy remembering session was replaced by what I recognised as pure and simple grief. It was a look I knew well. For the first six or so months after Dad died, any happy memory brought a lump to your throat and bile to your tongue, and no amount of therapy seemed to help, and I'd at least had therapy. Shadow wasn't a talker. He'd done this on his own.

Luckily for him, Sheira and I were regulars at the Heartbreak Hotel (lose a loved one now and get twenty per cent off). "He sounded amazing, Shadow. I would've loved to meet him," she said kindly, patting him on the back.

He nodded and gave her a quick tap back. "Yeah. He was a good man. Better than most people, especially immortals. Quite a few of us tend to go off the deep end after a few centuries, but the crippling weight of mortality never seemed to bother him. I mean, don't get me wrong, both of us were traumatised to hell and back, but it never seemed to bother him. He just woke up every day and saw it as a fresh start. Made him a lot braver than me." He let out a lengthy sigh that seemed to start from somewhere deep in his own soul. "God, I miss him...."

Sensing her wisdom was needed, Sheira sidled over to Shadow and did her best to put an arm around his shoulders. "We all know how you feel, Shadow. Nick's dad, my Mum, we've all been through it. Death's a bitch."

You said it, Sheira. But while Shadow got a smile back, I felt like poor old Arthur Dent. Ever since I'd heard Light's name, it had been wandering through my brain, looking for something to connect with and strangely, I had the weirdest feeling that my parents had something to do with it.

Oh well, no time like the present.

"Hey, Sheira?"

"Yeah?"

I thought about my words carefully. "I've got the craziest feeling I've heard that name before."

She thought for a minute. "I know what you mean. It's ringing a bell, but I don't know where it's coming from. Y'know what?" she snapped her fingers. "I've seen it written somewhere."

Of all the people looking confused, Shadow wasn't one of them. He shrugged and served up a perfectly reasonable explanation. "Light wasn't as...how do I put this? Subtle with his image on the fabric of time. He was a magnet for trouble and had a pretty face to boot. Every major incident in the world's history has him popping up with about a hundred pictures to prove it. I'm still finding the bastards. For god's sake, I went to the Van Gogh Museum a few years back and almost had a heart attack!"

Picture...picture...oh great, now that was floating around in there too. My brain was like one of those DVD screensavers from back in the day. Eventually, something would hit a corner, and all would become clear.

"What did he look like?" I asked.

Shadow looked surprised. "Er...about my height, slightly slimmer build. Picture me but blonde with blue eyes, and you've got it."

Blonde hair, blue eyes...

It hit me like a goddammed lightning bolt. All of a sudden, I was back in the Harpy's office on my first day, holding a photo of my parents, the two directors and three strangers. One was a Greek woman (Mum told me her name was Diana), and the others were two men. One, the small dark-haired chap with glasses, was Dad's best friend Nico, and the second was tall, blonde and dark blue eyes with a very unusual name.

I swear to God, by this point, Sheira and I could have entire conversations just by staring at each other with some vague hand flaps for punctuation. Her eyes widened in shock and realisation. She mouthed the word photograph. I nodded frantically.

She got to her phone before I did and was halfway through her mad scrolling past Tumblr screenshots and cake pictures before Shadow finally shook off his surprise/terror.

"May I be the first to ask what the hell has gotten into you two?"

But I wasn't listening. I was practically glued to Sheira's shoulder, trying to spot the target between the blur. My years wasted on video games were finally paying off!

I spotted it first. Whether it was the lighting, the angle, or the Harpy's hideous shag carpet, I instantly recognised the Nest and jabbed at the image. It expanded to full size, letting Sheira and I get a good long look at the seven people standing there as well as the crystal-clear writing just below. My heart started pounding in my ears.

This lined up with about the time Shadow started getting annoyed. He huffed and glared. "What's going on? What do you two know that I don't?"

Sharing one last look of solidarity that the other would tell our story after we got whacked, Sheira slowly turned the phone around.

I should mention that before this, Shadow had been going an annoyed shade of plum. Now he was pale as a ghost and gaping like he'd just met old Casper.

I was going to ask if our suspicions were true, but with that reaction, what was the point? He'd given us all the answers we needed.

"How..." Shadow finally managed to splutter. He'd collapsed into a chair, gripping Sheira's phone and staring at it like he was afraid it would disappear forever if he took his eyes off it. "When...why...What?!"

"You okay there, big guy?" I tentatively asked.

Shadow finally broke his gaze from the phone, and I immediately wished he hadn't. The combined look of surprise, confusion, joy and all-consuming blind rage was enough to get me eyeing up the door. "When was this taken?"

"All right, calm down. I'm sure there's a very reasonable explan-"

"WHEN WAS THIS TAKEN!" he roared, and I squeaked like a mouse in front of a tiger because, let's be honest, that's on the same level of underwear-ruining terror.

"Before I was born?" I whimpered. "2000ish? Maybe '99?"

Shadow sat back, clutching the phone and staring at nothing in particular. He had the look of a man who'd just had his world uprooted and tossed around by a hurricane, and this was the aftermath. Or one who'd just found out that everything in his life was a lie (like finding out you're a fire-bending elemental, for example).

All my friend could do was sit there dumbstruck as three words escaped his lips. Simple and yet earthshattering at the same time.

"He's still alive?"

After that, three things happened in quick succession, all of which built on each other until we were dealing with the Leaning Tower of Instant Regret. Firstly who should come swanning in at that exact moment but our favourite flower-powered fae? Penny strutted in like she owned the place (which she did but you get the point) and loudly clapped her hands together, utterly oblivious to the bomb site before her.

"My friends!" Might want to rethink that label, you crazy witch. Friends may knock each other around a bit, but they certainly don't invite them to tea and then bash their heads in with a rock. "Sorry about the wait, but I'm happy to announce that the stage is set. We're ready to go when you are."

The second thing I realised was that telling Shadow that his best friend, who he thought had been nuked and gone AWOL for thirty years, had not, in fact, been blown to kingdom come before entering a nursery rhyme from hell that could get us killed might not have been the best idea. Hindsight is a hell of a thing, and if your world being upended doesn't throw you off your rhythm, then I don't know what will!

Thirdly and this was probably the most concerning, I made the mistake of looking back to Shadow after Penny made me jump with her sudden entrance. Let's just say if the devil waltzed into the room right now, he'd take one look at Shadow's face (the word murderous springs to mind) and nope his ass straight back to hell. As much as I wanted to meet this Light for the sake of every bone in his body, I think some therapy might be in order first. I'd instead take ten rounds with Mike Tyson than be that poor sod.

Trying to ignore the black smoke sputtering between Shadow's closed fists, I caught Sheira's eye and tried to get a read on our chances. If Shadow was dreaming of all the possible ways to dismember someone, then Sheira was probably going over how best to tell my mum I'd fallen headfirst onto a venomous rattlesnake or something equally stupid.

Usually, Sheira was unflappable and effortlessly confident, and even if she thought we had a 0.1% chance of survival, she at least gave off the impression that everything was under control. If the fact that she was visibly panicking didn't sell how royally screwed we were, then I don't know what did.

I took a deep breath. Okay, Nick, I thought to myself as somehow I, the one with a diagnosed anxiety disorder, had ended up as the voice of reason (we're all doomed). So Shadow's in a mood, Sheira's a nervous wreck, and we're about to do something that'll make the Hunger Games look like a Mcdonald's play place, and we're not even getting paid for this. The odds aren't in our favour here.

But then again, I reasoned, when are they? On the stupid scale, this ain't that bad by our standards. There are no murderous robots, no shambling army of the undead and no sneaky bastards trying to kill us. At least this one's being honest about her stabby intentions, which is a step up, in my opinion.

Okay, we didn't have a plan, but those never worked out anyway, so there's no real difference there. Yes, I wasn't at full strength, but I've managed to get out of traps without them before, so that wasn't too bad (if you ignore the curse and imminent painful death). And so what we had no idea what we were going into even though the last time had actually killed off the most powerful and terrifying elemental I'd ever met.

Heh...uhhh...

Nope! We're going to be okay. We're all going to get through this, win back the chain, throw me into the rift, get me out again and be home in time for tea. Simple. Only one thing left to do.

I grinned at Penny. "Game on."