Everyone around the camp fire was watching Christine. She did not shed a single tear, but the others did. Her girlhood years of pain had been passed, but she had never cried. And yet, if a person looked into her eyes, one could still see the childish glimmer of hope. She dared not think of it anymore, but it still existed.

Pinky walked with her to her room after. They were both the silent type, comfortable with the nighttime quietness. Finally, the young man spoke up. "It's hard, losing a sister, isn't it?" They stopped along a hall and looked at a painting, a portrait of a young girl. "This was my sister. She died for our country."

Christine studied the painting. The inscription on the plaque below it proclaimed "Xardia Kardozir, the Protector". "Yes, I know about her," Christine said. "I know all about the Lost Year. I- uh, I have dreams that usually tell the future. In this case, they told the past." She looked at Pinky. "Your sister was both noble and brave, but above all, a credit to your country. Even the gods' children cannot live up to her."

"But you're a child of the gods."

She smiled. "Exactly. So I should know, right?"

"Listen, can we continue this tomorrow?" He asked as they near Christine's door. "I'd really love to stay up and chat, but us mere mortals not of the gods' blood must sleep at some point." He smiled. "But I really would like to continue this tomorrow. May I take you on a trip for the day?"

"I'd love it," she confessed, and they separated.

Stop looking so happy, Spider told her when she walked in. He's too young for you. Plus, you made a promise.

"I wasn't thinking like that at all!" Christine said to her cat. "You always get the wrong idea of things. It was just nice to be able to talk to someone who knows the constant pain in my heart. And besides," she changed tones, "what would you know about my promise? I made it in front of Thorn Paw, Night Witch, and Jewel. That was long before your time!" Yes, those had been the good days. They couldn't have been only twenty years ago! Jewel and Night Witch, the two cats she had learned wild magic from, were a long memory away. Even Thorn Paw, the wolf whose heart she had fixed as a pup, had passed on ten years ago. Her faithful horse of those days, the gallant Prince of Thieves, had been put to pasture from being even a casual riding horse. Maybe someday soon, Percy would be riding him in the Realm of the Dead, with the cats clinging on for dear life as Thorn Paw raced along the giant black horse's side. Perhaps Kyrla and her old friends Jenna and Katy would watch them gallop around in circles, with nowhere in particular to go and all the time of eternity to get there. Yes, it wasn't so bad if she thought of it that way. And for the first time, Christine cried over losing Percy to the unknown.

When he looked up, Pinky's eyes were brimming with tears. "Thank you," he said softly. "I don't know what else to say."

"You don't have to say anything," Christine told him. "I knew you loved your sister, and I knew I had to give you that drawing. I also know it's sad, but it's complete. It's when she was passing Erik in the tunnel of life and death. She sacrificed her life to bring him back. It's done in chalk pastel, since that's the medium I get my best results in. I'd say this is my best drawing ever."

Percy stood staring at it for a long time. "Thanks," he finally said. "It's a masterpiece."

"I know. I've never been able to top it."

"You've been trying for a long time?" he asked. "How long ago did you draw this?"

"I had just turned eighteen. I've been trying to top it, but I don't want to. It's my baby. I've had it in my exhibits for a long time, but I decided to retire it into your hands. It doesn't belong anywhere else. Take good care of it."

"Oh, I will," Percy assured her. "As a matter of fact, I'm going to put it in my room before leaving. I wouldn't trust this on a boat, not even one we made."

"We're going on a boat?" Christine asked.

"Yes," he answered. "I want you to see our cousins, another secret country. They live on another island. They're not as trusting as we are, and are wary of people who stumble onto the island, but they should let us on. Are you ready?"

She laughed. "I've been waiting for you, and you ask me if I'm ready. By all means, let's continue." Later on the boat she asked, "Why didn't you just twist a thread, or snap your fingers, or some other relocation spell?"

"I don't have magic," he confessed. "Xardia was my half-sister, and our father was not from Medazzaland. Her mother was, and that's where she got her magic from. I came here the same time she came to fight the war. I have acquired magic, but none of them can do relocation spells." They were coming fast upon an island. "The whole island is one city," Pinky told her, "made of tall, glass buildings. It's impressive, but I'd rather be humble." Then he changed the conversation again. "Why haven't you married? Surely, you'd never love anyone as you did Percy, but you shouldn't be denied the joy of children and a family."

"I have children," she said. "Lionel, Jimmy, and Lynnette are my children. I might not have given birth to them, but I was there every time. I was best friends with their mother since we were six, and she was usually too sick after they were born, so I raised them. They are my children." She sighed. "Plus, I made a promise. In Percy's last letter, which I got long after he disappeared, he said that if he didn't return, he still didn't want me to stop loving everything, even people. He said that he didn't want me to grow up to be an old maid, mad at the world. So that day, I made a promise. My sister had fallen in love with a young man, Steve, whom I had grown up with. The two of us made a pact that if Percy and Kyrla hadn't returned by our fortieth birthdays, since we're ten days apart, we would marry each other." She paused and then said, "It's exactly six months until my fortieth birthday."

"I am Pinky Kardozir, resident of Medazzaland," Pinky told him. "This is Christine Haskell-Harrison, distinguished guest for the summer."

"Why do you seek admittance to the White City?"

"I wish to show her how our honoured cousins live," he answered. "Also, she is a knowledge seeker of the magics. Nobody else has as many books as the White City."

The guard nodded. "You may enter," he told them, and one of the big doors opened. "Wait here as I get a guide."

"That won't be necessary," Pinky told him. "I've been here often enough to find my way around."

The guard nodded and returned to his post. "Look around," Pinky advised Christine, and she did. All around her were tall, white, glass buildings. Some were opaque and others were not. All were magnificently made.

They walked to the center of the city. There stood not a white building, but a black one made of stone. It was only one story high, with no windows and only one door. Christine got the feeling that building was shunned. "What is that building?" she asked Pinky.

"The prison," he answered quietly.

"Prison? I thought these hidden countries didn't have criminals."

"They don't. You know how I told you they are wary of people who just stumble upon the island? That's where they put them."

"For how long?" Christine was apalled.

"For life. They don't want them telling anyone about the island. I know, it's extreme."

"Has anyone ever gotten out?"

"A few," he replied. "Someone from Medazzaland falls in love with someone and they're released. Also, if someone knows a prisoner, they get released."

"So you see, we're not barbarians," a new, deep voice said form behind. Pinky and Christine turned around to face a middle-aged man in what resembled a Navy uniform.

"Captain Minks, I didn't know you were there," Percy said.

"Well, I heard we had a couple of visitors, one with an odd mark on her cheek, who refused to have guides. I thought I would check it out for myself." Christine's hand had gone up to her scar. "No need to hide it, lady. It's just unusual. We have a story of one, marked like you, who will free some of our prisoners. If that is you, I welcome you and wish you well."

"I don't think I know any of your prisoners, I'm sorry," she replied.

"But wouldn't you like to look, just in case?" Pinky asked her. "And you can see that they do treat their prisoners well, even if it's a custom we wouldn't keep."

"Okay then, lead on," she submitted, but as the other man opened the door, she used powers she had obtained from her parents, being god-born. She read Pinky's thoughts. I hope Percy and Kyrla are here, he was thinking. She shouldn't suffer like this. Pinky didn't feel anything, but Christine was shocked. No, to even hope that they were here would be depressing. She wouldn't think of it.

Still, when she stepped into the building, she let out an involuntary squeak of surprise.

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