By the end of the day, they had killed five dolls, including the first one. Each of them had been singing a seemingly innocent song that Rowen knew had hidden meanings, like the last song, which was "Blow the Man Down." Rowen remembered from her 8th grade project that this song was about beating members of a ship's crew.

Rowen staggered into Maria's tent. She paid no attention to her two best friends hastily moving away from one another at her appearance and just grabbedd a pillow from Maria's bed and collapsed on her sleeping bag, falling into a deep slumber.

*

Ayren was really beginning to like his nest-turned-bed. All the moss and leftover feathers made for a very comfortable sleeping place.

Of course, he still had trouble falling asleep. He didn't want to remember the panic he had felt at the silent singing of the dolls, or their gazes that were just too aware...but every time he closed his eyes, the image popped right back.

Faintly, he heard a figure crashing through the trees. He drowsily opened his eyes.

Had he actually fallen asleep?

"Ayren!" Princess Maria's panicked voice echoed through the quiet forest.

Ayren leapt from his nest. What if it's Rowen? Oh, god, what if it's Rowen? He noted dimly that the sky was light. It was early morning.

"Ayren?"

"I'm coming! Hold on!"

Princess Maria was stumbling wildly from the forest, tears streaming down her pale, blotchy face. Ayren caught her as she tipped forward.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. Shhh," he soothed. "Now calm down and just tell me what's going on."

"They took her! They took Rowen!" Princess Maria screamed hysterically.

Ayren's blood went cold. No. Without a word, he scooped up the princess and took to the skies, soon arriving at camp.

"Did anyone see her leave?" Ayren demanded, striding into the king's tent with Princess Maria close on his heels.

The king and Jason looked up from their hunched, quiet conversation. "A medic," the king said. "We already talked to her."

"Bring her in again," Ayren ordered. He ignored everyone's shocked looks at him ordering around a king. They had to find Rowen. Every second they wasted chitchatting, Rowen could be being tortured.

Or worse.

Don't think about that, don't think about that, don't - 

"You guys wanted me?" 

Ayren's eyes flew open to see a petite medic. Her pretty face and slender built reminded him of elves, but she had a calculating look in her eyes and thick, unruly black hair that spoke of a witch or wizard. A crossbreed?

Not important, he chided himself.

"Yes, thank you, Cecilia."

But a human name...

I have a human name, too. Lots of færies do. Focus. Stop distracting yourself.

 He realized Cecilia was extending a hand and hastily shook it.

"Cecilia. Elf-witch hybrid. Name after my mother's bestfærie friend." She smiled. "Because people always wonder."

Ayren dropped his gaze and nodded. His brain always did that to him in stressful moments - completely distracted him. Even through years of training and torture with Terr, it was a quality he couldn't seem to shake.

"Tell Ayren what you told us," commanded the king.

Cecilia sighed. "Okay. I couldn't sleep, so I decided to go outside to look at the stars - calms me down, you know."

Ayren thought of Rowen's fascination with stars. "Yeah."

"Anyway, I saw Rowen leave her tent with someone. She was walking really straight, kinda weird, and then the person scooped her up and flew off. I...I thought it was you." Cecilia blushed and gestured to Ayren.

A numb pain filled Ayren at this. "What made you think it was Te - the enemy?"

"Well, something about it seemed off. I replayed it in my head and realized that I had thought Rowen was walking funny because she wasn't really walking at all. Her feet didn't move. Whoever it was, they were dragging her out of the tent with magic. That was when I woke up the Chosen and Princess Maria, and she left to find you."

Ayren swayed slightly. Terr. "I need weapons," he ordered, building up his soldier illusion and eliciting a slight gasp from Cecilia. "Daggers." When nobody moved, he clapped his hands, making them all jump, and snapped, "Now!"

*

Rowen woke up slowly. Something felt off, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

And then her eyes snapped open and everything came flooding in.

She was tied to a hunk of stone. It cut uncomfortably into her back. She and the stone were in a tent, as large as a big top at a circus. There were even bleachers circling her and the rock, which was the centerpiece, it seemed.

"You're awake." The voice, smooth as silk and rich as velvet, echoed lazily around the tent. It was the voice of a predator.

And Rowen was the prey.

A tall, slender man emerged from behind the rock. He had a shock of incredibly blond hair, almost white. His skin was pale and free of all blemishes - save his face.

Rowen stopped breathing as she looked at his face.

It was a mess of scars, jagged, thick, white scars that crisscrossed and ran rampant over his cheeks, forehead, lips, nose, and even eyelids. In the middle of the mass of scars, two amber eyes, like glowing jewels, shone coldly.

The man's face twisted into a grotesque impression Rowen could only assume he meant as a smile. "So," he said, "I get to meet you in the flesh at last. The mythical One, straight off of the pages of a prophecy. Ayren has done his job well."

Rowen's breath came in quick, short gasps. Her heart thudded painfully against her chest.

"No," she managed. "He betrayed you."

"And yet here you are," Terr pointed out. His face twisted in humor again. "And honestly, I don't appreciate how much trouble you've caused me." Suddenly, he whirled, lashing a hand across Rowen's cheek. She cried out from the pain and shock, feeling tears welling to her eyes. When it stopped hurting quite as badly, she gasped, "Why are you doing this?"

"Power," Terr said matter-of-factly. "If you think I'm going to go into a cliche villain monologue about how the world has wronged me, revenge and all that, I'm afraid you're going to have to live with the disappointment."

"So, why not kill me? Why keep me around?" Rowen spat, desperate to learn anything from the man, distract him from her vulnerability. Shut up, shut up, shut up! If she kept doing this, however, she probably would be killed.

"Ah. No beating around the bush with you. Well, here's the deal. I need you to work for me."

Rowen stared at him openmouthed. Then her jaw snapped up and she began to laugh hysterically. Terr watched her with a detached, slightly amused expression. She couldn't make herself stop laughing. All of the stress poured out of her.

"You - you," she gasped, finally quieting. "You want me to work...for you. Wow! That's rich." She fell silent and raised her eyebrows as if to say, "Explain yourself." Where is this confidence coming from?

Terr "smiled" again. "See, I think once you hear the terms and conditions, you'll feel otherwise."