• Celica, feeling as though nothing had really happened. For all she knew, everything that had happened in the past few minutes, though it seemed like hours, had been just a dream. She lay on the dirt where she had been dropped by the POCC officer, in a crumpled heap.

    There, she did something that she hadn't done for years. She cried, her tears falling down her face, shaken off by sharp intakes of breath. The hopelessness of the situation had finally slapped her in the face, and the place on her conscience where it had struck stung bitterly. Her eyes stung bitterly, and she used to back of her filthy, dirt-crusted hand to wipe it dry.

    Then she stood up, defying her own depthless emotion. Lying there wasn't going to get her anywhere. Peter and Amos were both in the clutches of the POCC and it was her fault. As much as she cared to drop everything right there, just to lay down, sleep, and wake up in her own bed again, she knew that wasn't an option. Even more than before, she was rooted where she was with brutal gravity.

    The landslide had carried everything out of sight of the path. It probably took the path away too, now that Celica thought about it. The only thing she could do was to wander around. She would Jump, but where would she Jump to?

    She supposed she could go to the last town they visited, she had a good enough image of that small city to focus on. But what then? She had no way of knowing where exactly the weapon was being stored, now that Peter's map was buried somewhere in the massive mound of Earth.

    The only way was to return to the small town whose hospital she had visited, and to find a map. Then she could locate Parwet, Jump there, and figure the rest out as she went. She couldn't think of any other way.

    She focused hard on the tall, white building she had been antidoted in only a day and a half before. With a whistle of rushing wind in her ear, she appeared on the side of the building, out of the sight of the street, some leaves and trash rustling around her. The alleyway was full of trash, with dumpsters lining all of the walls.

    A holed, worn mattress was sticking out of one of them, the lamp from the street illuminating its ghostly-white sides. With less disgust than she would have given a week before, she pulled the mattress out and laid it flat on the alley floor. Her search for the weapon with which she would infiltrate POCC headquarters with would just have to wait till morning. She plopped down on the mattress and was immediately asleep.

    Celica opened her eyes to a blindingly bright morning sun, staring her down through the walls that formed the alley. She squinted her eyes shut and hid her face with her arms, lying face down on the mattress. "Come on, now, let's go." A smooth, male voice was echoing in her ears and she snapped awake instantly as she felt a squeeze on her left shoulder.

    Her vision was still blurry, and she only saw a silhouette, a crouching figure with messy hair. She rubbed her eyes and the boy came a bit more into focus. "Are you okay?" He asked, an amused expression on his face. He was fairly good looking, with reddish-brown hair and black and white athletic wear. His blue eyes sparkled with excitement as he stood up.

    "I saw you Jump here last night, I was strolling down the street, and then bam!" He raised his open hands up to imply an explosion. "There was this dirty, exhausted girl in the alley next to me." Celica noticed vaguely how tall he was when he was standing. His head blocked out the sun from where she was laying, and she pushed herself up onto her knees, just to be in a more dignified position.

    "How about you come to my place and shower up. You look like someone who hasn't done that in a while." Celica nodded silently. He helped her up, and they left the alleyway together, Celica still feeling dazed.

    "My name's Andrew, and you're in Erhand. Of course, you must know that, since you Jumped here. I don't know much about Jumping, but I've heard you've got to know where you're going." Andrew stopped talking, but still walked, and looked at Celica sideways. "What's your name?" He asked, a broad smile still spread across his face.

    Celica couldn't find her voice. Perhaps from the lack of use, the large amount of time since she had drunk water, and the dusty crisis that had occurred the previous day had contributed to the intense dryness in her throat that made her vocal cords useless.

    "Oh, I'm so sorry." Andrew stopped, putting his hands on her shoulders, a strongly apologetic look on his face. "You're a mute. I hadn't realized. I'm sorry." He repeated, blushing and looking abashed.

    "Not," Celica croaked, even though it sounded more like "Nod." She sounded ridiculous. She cleared her throat, and it sounded barky and rough, and made her airways inflame. She felt no more able to speak than she had before, but she made another attempt anyway, seeing the confused look on Andrew's face. "Not a mute." Celica was satisfied to hear that her voice was slightly clearer.

    "Oh, phew." He said, relieved. "I really don't want to offend anyone. You sound sick. Do you have a cold?" He asked, starting to walk again and cocking his head curiously. His hair fell to the side a little as he did so, giving the impression of a child examining a new species of bug.

    "No." Celica said, still trying to use as few words as possible.

    He raised his head back to a totally vertical position again. "Oh. Well I still didn't catch your name. What is it?"

    "Celica." She answered simply.

    "That's a cool name." He said, apparently satisfied that this new bug was interesting enough for his attention. "I've never met a Celica before. I have a very generic name. Andrew. There are so many Andrews. I tried shortening my name to Andy, but there are even more of those. At this point, I usually go by Anders, since no one I've met has that name. I hate being the same as everyone else." He talked a lot for someone of his age, it seemed. He must have been at least 17, judging by his elongated body and well-constructed features.

    "This is the place." Anders said as he turned into a doorway so abruptly that Celica walked another few steps before whirling around. Anders held the door open for her, and he shut it quietly.

    "Sh." He shushed her, putting a finger to his lips. He turned to the right and climbed a staircase, creeping exaggeratedly. "I don't want to wake up the folks."

    Celica opened her eyes wide. She hadn't realized there would be other people here. Wouldn't it seem a bit odd that Anders had brought home a teenage girl without them knowing? He did seem like the type to do that, but not in the way that parents usually feared. He just seemed like someone who didn't totally understand reality the same way most people did.

    "Don't worry." He said quietly, barely moving his lips and staring as he walked at the head of the staircase, not blinking. He froze and turned to face Celica, smiling a little at her hesitation. "Come on, it'll be fine. Mom and Henry don't wake up for another few hours. I said come on!"

    Grinning even further, he wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her up the stairs, running loudly, stomping on the faded-green wooden steps as he went. "Anders! Anders, shush! Won't your parents think it's odd if they find you carrying me in? In this condition, no less?" Her voice jarred as her jaw bounced as she ran.

    "Nah, Mom and Henry don't mind when I bring people home. Besides, they'd understand me helping someone in need. You obviously need some cleaning up."

    So he pushed her inside of the bathroom, tossed in some clothes, and with the parting words, "Turn the shower handle right for hot water," He shut the door on her.