The first thing Rowen noted about the cottage was the silence. The forest was alive with sound, but as soon as she stepped onto the perfect green grass of the cottage's front lawn, an eerie silence descended over everything.

It felt good to be on her own two feet again, Rowen thought as she stretched her legs and hugged Pipsqueak to her chest.

The cottage looked like it had been made in a hurry by someone who had no intention to live there long. The white bricks were uneven and bumpy, and the roof was missing many shingles.

However, the cottage was big enough to accommodate Rowen, Jason, and Ayren, and apparently the best witch in all ofTamría lived here. That was what mattered.

Rowen had thought that anything from this point on would pale in comparison to everything that she had seen so far.

Put simply, she was wrong.

The door swung open to reveal a tiny, dirty room. With trepidation, Rowen stepped forward.

When then revealed itself took Rowen's breath away.

The cottage was no more. Instead, a grand mansion spread out before her.

The floor was checkered white and gold. A golden staircase swooped up on either side of her to a glass balcony ringing the circular room. The room soared upward into a domed ceiling made of stained glass, all the colors of the rainbow. A magnificent glass chandelier hung down from the center of this masterpiece, emitting a golden glow that only added to the majesty of the room. Although, if one had later asked Rowen where the source of the light in the chandelier was, she wouldn't have been able to tell them.

Huge white double doors set in the wall across from them flew open, crashing into doorstops and making everyone jump.

"Well, hello," said an old woman cheerily, using her middle finger to push her huge glasses farther up on her large, lumpy nose. "And who might you be?"

She was an odd sight. Dressed in a wrinkled, musty-looking cloak, she had many talismans and strange necklaces swinging around her neck. Her grey hair was tangled and matted. She looked worn out, like a well-used rug.

"The One, the Blessed, and Ayren," responded Rowen, pointing in turn to herself, Jason, and Ayren.

"You make me sound so unimpressive," Ayren muttered. Rowen only had time to shoot him a smile before the old woman began speaking again.

"Good, good! I've been expecting you! Well, not you. Or you." She pointed to Ayren with a wrinkled, bony forefinger, then Pipsqueak, and grinned. Her teeth were yellowed, but otherwise straight and all there. "Close the door. I don't like those peeping guards."

Ayren ducked outside to speak with the guards and was quickly back, shutting the entrance doors as he reentered the disguised mansion.

"Now," the woman said, her voice changing from the scratchy, slow tone of an old woman to that of a young child, "this might be a little strange."

Before their very eyes, the woman was surrounded in a fog of hazy gold. When she emerged, she looked to be about nine years old, wearing a pretty dress with a white bodice and gold skirt and poofed out from her thin form.

"You're..." began Rowen.

"Nine?" finished Jason incredulously. 

"And a half!" the woman-turned-girl corrected as if it made all the difference, smiling a dimpled grin.

"I'm supposed to learn magic from a little girl?" cried Rowen, shocked. She turned to Ayren. "Did you know about this?"

He looked appropriately shocked. "No."

"Oh, you think just because I'm nine and a half, I can't be the best witch inTamría?" demanded the child angrily. She tucked a loose strand of her raven black hair behind her ear and narrowed her  green eyes at them. Rowen hadn't noticed at first, but they were a startlingly beautiful shade of emerald.

"You're not just some powerful nine year old," said Ayren, obviously catching on to something. It made sense, as he knew the most about magic out of the group.

The girl sniggered. "Nope! I'm the reincarnation of the most powerful witches from each century." Her eyes flashed with dozens of shades of color, some eyes changing shape or having different shapes within them. She blinked and shook her head. When her eyes next opened, they were their normal dazzling green.

She bobbed into a small curtsey and grinned again. "Polly Rosewood, at'cha service."

*

"You live here all alone?" breathed Rowen as they turned yet again down an identical-looking hallway.

"No," snorted Polly, as if it was the dumbest question ever. "There are thousands of life forces in  this building. They're just not humanoid."

"Sounds like 'alone' to me," muttered Jason so Polly couldn't hear.

Ayren grabbed Rowen's arm and pulled her back a ways from the group. "Listen," he whispered. "She may seem like a naive little girl, but she is a lot more. Be sure to show her the proper respect. We need her on our side."

"I agree with Muscle Man," called Polly. Ayren ducked his head in embarrassment and stepped away from Rowen.

"Boys," Polly finally said, pointing to a door on her left. "Girl." Her finger swiveled to a door on her right. "Go."

After a moment of hesitation, the group split up and went into their respective rooms.

"Dinner at six!" shouted Polly as the white-painted, heavy oak doors clunked shut.

Rowen realized she had no idea what time it was. Glancing back at her door and wondering if she should go find Polly, she realized a clock was built into the door. It read fifteen minutes before six--fifteen minutes to explore her new room.

Rowen turned around and gasped in shock. The area before her was shaped like the inside of a sphere with a flat bottom, but that wasn't the strangest part about the place.

The strangest part was the fact that her bedroom...wasn't even a room.

A  bird chirped from one of five trees placed in a circle around the spherical "bedroom." The ground was made not of floorboards or carpets but of soft soil and thick, lush grass.

And rising from the middle of it all was a huge oak. A bed was nestled in the middle of it, seeming to be part of the tree itself.

"Holy shit," gasped Rowen, crossing the room to sit carefully on the bed. Pipsqueak wriggled out of her arms and started exploring the trees.

The bird she had first heard singing flew down to look at her. It was a small, ordinary-looking finch.

"Hi," murmured Rowen sweetly. "How are you?"

The bird settled on the ground and cocked its head. 

"I half expect you to talk, too. Wouldn't surprise me after everything that's been going on in the past...what? Six, seven days?"

Glancing at the clock on the door, which looked to be in a different world with its neat painting and straight wooden doorframe, she saw that she still had ten minutes to dinner. She was going to settle in and relax when she realized she had no clue where the dining room was.

"Stay here," she whispered to Pipsqueak, slipping out of the room.

Rowen rapped twice on her companion's bedroom door. "Ayren? Jason?"

Jason opened the door. He looked exhausted.

Ayren appeared behind him. Vision, he mouthed.

Rowen's hand flew to her mouth and she rested her other hand on Jason's shoulder. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Jason took a moment to reply. When he did, his voice was low and hoarse. "I have to. I always frickin' have to." His voice was rising and there wa a dangerous look in his eyes--a look that frightened Rowen.

"They're starving her," Jason began, voice quiet again, almost too quiet for Rowen to hear. "They're starving Maria. And I can't do a goddamn thing!" Tears began rolling down his cheeks. "I can't do anything. I'm so goddamn useless!" He was shouting now.

Rowen hugged him tightly. "You're not--"

Ayren interrupted. "Oh, he is."

Rowen shot him a death glare over Jason's shoulder. Ayren spun him around.

"Listen to me. Right now, you are useless. But you can continue training with me and not be a complete and total fool when the war truly begins, or you can sob on Rowen's shoulder about it while people are out there risking their lives. And I know that's not you. So snap out of it and get ready to kick ass."

Jason wiped his eyes, looking embarassed, and nodded. "You're right. I'll keep training. Thanks, man."

Rowen watched the entire exchange with her mouth wide open, a stunned expression on her face.

"And that," Ayren whispered as he passed her, "is how you deal with guy problems."

Rowen rolled her eyes and followed them down the hall.