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  Mira's face flushed. What was Trina trying to say?

  "Mira!" Trina really did yell this time. "I'm dead. I'm here alone and crying because I just died! I was killed! And I'm stuck here and don't know what's supposed to happen, and I don't even think I'm supposed to be here. My life is over!"

  Mira's mouth flew wide open; she put her hand up to cover it and jumped back from the force of Trina's proclamation.

  "Wha-what do you mean?" she stammered. "Was there an accident and you're stuck in the astral? Oh, Trina! What can I do to help? Do you want me to go get the others? I'm sure they would want to know and would come immediately. It doesn't matter that it's the middle of the night. I'll travel back home and then run to the real McArthur house and get them!"

  "You can't get the others, you poor, ignorant—" Trina started sobbing again. She was done for and had nothing left to do but vent.

  She couldn't believe she was dead. She had tried to go back to her body but couldn't. She had seen the policemen trying to resuscitate her with her own eyes. Her life was over. And Lu—poor Lu. All because of a little tagging.

  Mira understood that Trina was upset and was taking it out on her. Dead! Tears streamed down her face. She sat down and put her arm around Trina.

  "Don't touch me!" cried Trina, but it was too late. Mira recoiled. Trina's body felt…different…but she put that down to the fact that Trina was dead.

  All the secrets came tumbling out. Trina wasn't maliciously trying to hurt Mira. She just couldn't help herself. She might as well tell her anyway, since Mira had experienced the difference between them when they touched. "See!" she yelled. "Do you get it? I'm dead, and you're lost! Your whole family? You created them! This town? You created it! The hay fields are here because we all created them years ago when we were young, but you don't remember that. You're lost, Mira; only part of you is here! I'm dead, and you're still stuck in the astral. What you think is the real world is the astral. The gang has been trying to save you, but you haven't caught on."

  Mira became very silent when Trina mentioned her family. Uneasy, she listened to Trina rant, only half taking it in, but tried to comprehend. She was in the astral already? Even when home?

  "Bu-but," she stammered again, trying to understand, forgetting Trina's dire situation for a moment. "What do you mean? How can I be in the astral when I'm in real life? What do you mean about my family?"

  By this time, Trina had calmed down a slight bit, enough to realize she was saying too much, and it was going to hurt people. She thought about it and forgot about her own situation for a second. She had a decision to make. Now that Mira knew half the story, would it be better to leave her guessing or tell her everything?

  Trina, who had never been one for half-truths or lying, opted for the latter.

  "Mira," she said, her voice much lower and gentle, "I'm sorry. But you've created all this. When you think you're in the real world, you are in the astral still."

  Mira's heart started pounding. "And my family?" she asked. Her small body was shaking.

  "Mira, your family is alive and well in the real world, except—" Trina's voice caught.

  "Except what?!" Mira's voice became louder. On the verge of becoming hysterical, she tried to comprehend. Everything she thought was real, wasn't? Her family was somewhere else?

  "Mira, I'm so sorry. I am out of my head because of what's just happened to me, and I shouldn't have told you, but you have a right to know… Mira," continued Trina softly, "Paul died when you were four."

  The world started to implode, spinning around Mira. She vaguely heard Trina call out "Mira!" but the landscape around her began to recede. Then a haziness took over the atmosphere. Trina became smaller in her eyesight. The moon and the oak trees disappeared. Last was the sky.

  From Trina's point of view, the landscape that Mira had been holding up started collapsing. Luckily, the part they were on was permanent from the years of use by the High Five Gang, but it was still dangerous to have the rest of the astral fall apart. She looked up at the moon. It was gone, and the area was pitch black.

  Chapter Twelve

  The Dark Forest

  Trina concentrated, and, yes, even though she was dead to the real world, she had some power here, and the moon and oak trees came back. She concentrated on making the hay bales and the pond reappear. When the moonlight came back, she finally saw Mira again and gasped. In front of her stood not Mira from before but a four-year-old little girl. She wondered if Mira understood that she had changed.

  "Mira?" asked Trina, heart pounding. "Is that you?"

  Trina had not known Mira as a child, and it was dark, but what other explanation was there? She knew that people traveled here at the age of their core self. Her news about Paul must have literally shocked Mira beyond recognition. Trina was at a loss. Here she was dead, and Mira was standing in front of her, only four years old.

  ***

  Four-year-old Mira was having none of it, however. All she remembered of Trina was as someone yelling at her. With a trembling lower lip, she turned around.

  "Mira!" shouted Trina, but that was the wrong thing to do.

  Mira ran. She ran so fast Trina barely stood up before she saw the landscape change beyond the Emergency Meeting Place. Mira was running and was too young to control her environment. In place of what had been the town and Mira's family's farm was a dark forest. The sky over the forest was starless, and there was no moon. And Mira ran directly into it. Trina had always heard that Mira was a prodigy and her presence powerful. Now she saw Mira's effect in real time. Even the McArthur house, which the gang themselves had created a just a few days ago, disappeared.

  Back at the Emergency Meeting Place, Trina was distraught. Not only had she lost her own life, but also the emotional impact of what she had told Mira had resulted in a dramatic regression. Trina had no way to get help, and she guessed her whole gang sat back in the real-world living their normal lives. Trina plopped down again on the gravel, put her face to her knees, wrapped her arms around them, and began to cry.

  ***

  Mira ran from the girl who had yelled, but as she ran, she found the landscape changing in front of her. What had been a pleasant night with a gentle breeze turned into a dark and moonless sky before her eyes. Still she ran. Deeper and deeper into the woods, she ran as if running for her life. She no longer remembered why she was running, or whether there might be a place to run to. Mira finally stopped at one of the large trees in the forest out of exhaustion. The breeze had turned to a cold chill, and she could barely see the sky beyond the thick undergrowth. She was lost. She didn't even know how old she was or where home might be. All around her were dark and cold things. Mira sat on the ground and started crying.

  ***

  Michael sat up in bed with a start. At first he was disoriented. Mira wasn't there. They hadn't slept apart in over ten years. He was used to her stealing the covers and the feel of her feet on his legs. The emptiness on her side of the bed threw him.

  Then he sensed a change in his heart area. Something had happened with her. Something beyond her previous situation. That was why he had woken up. He could no longer wait until morning; he had to take action immediately. As he was thinking about Mira, the sickening realization about Trina came slowly back to him. For one second he hadn't remembered she was gone. He slumped over, head in his hands. Then he heard a soft tapping on his bedroom door.

  It was his mother and Madison. Madison was crying. "Something's happened to Mom," she sobbed. "Please keep her safe, Dad."

  Mrs. Ross stroked Madison's hair and said, looking at Michael, "Your dad felt it too, honey." And then, to Michael, "Madison dreamt about her mom vividly." She stroked her granddaughter’s hair again and said with pride, "She's growing up to be quite a young lady."

  This was the first Michael had heard that Madison had any awareness of the astral. Considering the turmoil in motion right now, he would just as soon that she didn't. But this was not what his mother had come to debate
.

  "You need to call Stu and Jon," she said to Michael. She was in no mood for discussion or disagreement, not that he had any mind to. Those two had been his first thought as well.

  Then to Madison Mrs. Ross said, "Don't worry, honey, this is nothing like Trina. Your mother is okay; she's just had a shock."

  Madison never knew what to make of it when Grandma spoke this way, though she knew Morgan took her words as gospel. Still, more often than not, her grandmother turned out to be right.

  "Come with me to the study," said Mrs. Ross to Michael finally. "We need to talk." Michael raised his eyebrows. Since when did his mother want to talk about the other world? She barely spoke to Jonathan because he still traveled. She had tolerated it when the High Five Gang had traveled for some reason, but she had never really approved.

  Without thinking, Michael palmed a locket of Mira's on the bureau. He put it in his pocket and kept his hand tight around it.

  ***

  Madison was aware that the study conversation was not going to include her. There was nothing she could do anyway. As her grandmother and father left to go to the study, Madison sank on top of the covers on her mother's side of the bed. It was comforting to smell her mother's perfume still lingering on the pillow. She drifted into a deep sleep.

  ***

  In the study, Mrs. Ross was careful to close the door. Michael looked up expectantly. He hoped this wouldn't take long, as he knew for sure Mira needed help. Thank God it was nothing like Trina. He knew this to be true as well. He was sure his body would react had something like that happened to Mira. As it was, he determined a significant change happened in the other world. Fear emanated from Mira. He needed to get to the Emergency Meeting Place as soon as possible.

  Mrs. Ross already knew what was on his mind. "I know you want to get going, but there is an important conversation we need to have. I wouldn't keep you if this weren't in direct relation to the predicament Mira is in and your efforts to help her."

  Michael had no choice but to sit down and listen.

  Mrs. Ross took a seat at the roll top desk. Then she opened the palm of her right hand. In it was a key. "Do you know what this is?" she asked Michael.

  Michael had never seen the key before. Where had his mother come across it? Before he could say anything, his mother spoke up.

  "I've just changed my mind," she said, with a strange look in her eyes. "Get Jonathan and Stu in here, and then we'll talk."

  "Mother," he started to say, but there was a knock at the door.

  He went to answer the door. Who in the— Michael thought, but too much was going on for him to really be surprised by anything anymore. As if by magic, Stu stood on the porch. Looking down the road, he saw Jonathan walking toward the house, only a block behind.

  Michael stuttered, "How did you—" but his mother interrupted.

  "The details aren't important right now. People feel things. This next conversation is vital though."

  Stu said a polite hello to Mrs. Ross, and Michael noted that Stu appeared almost to expect Mrs. Ross to be there. He had showed no surprise at all. Something was going on that Michael was not privy to. He hoped this next conversation would explain it. They all needed to be on the same page, as Jonathan would say.

  They waited for Jonathan to catch up. Jonathan whistled, when he saw Stu already there. "Well, I guess I'm late to the party," he said, his old joshing back for one moment. Then he remembered Trina. Jonathan immediately said, "I'm sorry, I just keep trying to put it out of my mind. I guess I succeeded for a minute." He hung his head.

  Mrs. Ross patted him on the back. "It's okay, Jon."

  Jonathan looked up at his mother with surprise. This was the first time in years his mother had shown him any compassion or really spoken to him about anything more than the weather.

  Stu shuffled his feet before he took a seat on the couch with Jonathan. Michael sat in the big leather chair. Mrs. Ross sat at the antique roll-top desk, near Jonathan. She held out the key for all to see.

  "Jonathan and Stu, could you assist me for a moment?" she asked and stood up. She indicated that she wanted the desk moved out from the wall for a moment.

  "Mother," said Michael, "is this really so impor—"

  "Yes!" said his mother, before he could get the rest out of his mouth.

  Stu and Jonathan immediately did what she asked.

  Michael knew the desk, in the Ross family for generations and given to Michael one Christmas, had sat against that same wall for over twenty years. Before that, it had been owned by Michael's mother and before that his grandfather, who had been dead now for many decades.

  Mrs. Ross bent over the back of the desk and appeared to slide something. Stu and Jonathan came around to look.

  "Well, I'll be!" said Jonathan. For Mrs. Ross had slid back a false panel and opened up what appeared to be a locked cabinet inside part of the desk. She held out the key.

  "Jonathan," she said, giving him the key, "you do the honors." Jonathan looked at his mother with surprise for the second time that night. She was getting downright friendly. Jonathan put the key in the rusty lock and opened the door. Inside was a book, leather bound and handwritten. He handed it to his mother.

  Michael stayed in the leather chair across the room, observing.

  "You can move the desk back," said Mrs. Ross to the men, "and lock it up. I will not be putting the book back there again."

  The book was small, thick, leather-bound, and dusty. It obviously had not been out of its hiding place for a very long time. "Just what are you up to, Mother?" asked Michael.

  "Much to explain and no time," said Mrs. Ross. She laid the book open on the desk and flipped through the pages. She finally came to the one she was looking for and rose from her seat. "Boys, yours was not the first group of friends from around here to go to the other world. There was another group before you. I know, because I was in it."

  Michael's eyebrows rose. Jonathan said, "You know with so much happening I hadn't had a chance to ask you about that incident with Brandon while we were at the McArthur house the other night, but I was wondering…"

  ***

  Stu feigned nonchalance and looked up at the ceiling. He assumed Mrs. Ross wanted to keep their little chat a secret.

  "There is no time to go into everything. Suffice to say we were similar to your gang in your younger years, experimenting and trying to figure out the other world, developing our skills…" Mrs. Ross trailed off.

  "Who was in your group?" piped up Stu.

  Mrs. Ross looked at him. "Besides myself, there were two others whose names I've sworn not to reveal. We recorded our experiments and journeys, much like I assume you do. We used code names in the book so no one would ever know. Mine was Robin. The other two were Hawk and Sparrow. None of that really matters right now. I need you all to read these pages from the book."

  Stu noticed that she did not go so far as to tell them all she was a Watcher. Or that Stu apparently was also. She must have her reasons, he thought. Probably to do with a bigger picture than he could see.

  "And this is important for our trip to Mira?" asked Michael.

  "Yes," answered Mrs. Ross. "It's urgent that you learn this before you leave. I bet you don't even have a plan," she added. "Are you proposing to run off and rescue Mira just like that?" she snapped her fingers.

  "Whatever we have to do, as long as it takes," said Michael.

  Mrs. Ross whipped around toward her son. "Exactly why you need to read this! You don't know what you are getting into!"

  Jonathan and Michael were taken aback. Mrs. Ross almost never showed such emotion. Stu whistled softly under his breath, once again wishing he was anywhere but here.

  Mrs. Ross went to sit down where Jonathan was on the couch. She motioned for all three of the men to go to the desk and read, starting from the page she had left open. "I'm giving this book to you," she said to all three, "and Mira when she returns. When there is time later, you can read it all; you need to know at once what
is on these pages!"

  The guys went to the desk. Michael sat down in the chair as the other two looked over his shoulder. At the very top of the right page, it said COFE. Then there were entries that looked like diary entries for the group. Jonathan smiled and said, "It looks so similar to our old book!" Michael glared at him.

  "Well it's not like there are many secrets left—" chided Jonathan.

  "—especially if they did everything you did back then," added Stu.

  "More," said Mrs. Ross. "More."

  All three men turned for an instant and looked at her with incredulity. Here they had thought the High Five Gang, so tight and dedicated at one time, had discovered so much.

  She saw them and shook her head at them. "Everybody always thinks they're the first," she said with a brief wave of her hand.

  "Um," Jonathan dared ask, since apparently his mother felt him a responsible person after all, "what does COFE stand for?"

  "Chameleons of Forever," said Mrs. Ross. "It was an allusion to our ability to mask, as well as our need for extraordinary amounts of coffee to stay in the other world for long periods of time."

  They stared at her for a second, immobile from that information. Then they turned their attention to the book almost in unison. Stu whispered under his breath to Jonathan, "Birds… lizards—who were these people?" But Jonathan's eyes were elsewhere.

  ***

  Jonathan was thinking to himself, putting together a picture. He was getting it. The distance from his mother. Why she never approved of Jonathan continuing to travel. Why she hadn't particularly approved of the High Five Gang traveling either. They had done so in short bursts. Her group, and only three at that, obviously had taken it so seriously that they spent large amounts of time there, refining their skills. No wonder his mom always seemed to know what was going on. Who knew what level she was at? And to her, the High Five Gang probably seemed like a gang of kindergarteners playing with matches. Though they were serious, they had been more serious about the adventure of it, not serious study. Except for Stu. He looked at Stu.