It was dawn and streaks of red bled from the morning sun like veins from a beating heart as Lynne pushed through a maze of wheat and corn. She tripped a few times, limping from an apparent numbness in her left leg, and sweat stained the dark and ragged garments she wore. As she finally exited the cornfield and neared the old farmhouse, her knees buckled and she collapsed to the dirt. Moaning, she planted her forearms on the ground and began crawling forward.

When the farmhouse was only twenty yards away, she threw herself against a wooden fence and sat up, panting and nauseous.

"I'm here," she cried, leaning her head back. She cleared her throat and tried to yell louder. "I'm here! I'm all alone here."

Only the wind answered her.

She listened for a while and looked around, but the fields were empty. A pair of crows watched her from a nearby fencepost. She scowled at them and made a sharp hissing noise between her teeth, causing them to take to the air.

"Where are you, you dirty tramp?" she mumbled under her breath. Her voice seemed as distant as those flapping wings. Clutching her stomach, her eyelids began to get heavy and she hung her head over the dirt, feeling the ever increasing weight of gravity dragging her down. On the ground, about an arms-length away from her thigh, she saw the spiraling movements of about a hundred ants gathered around an old squash. They were crawling in and out and under and all over that rotting fruit. As her head drooped further and further down, the ants began to get bigger, until she at last crashed down next to them. Her eyes were closed.

She might never have woken up, but a sudden voice brought her back to the world of the living.

"Good morning, Lynne."

Lynne looked up and squinted into the orange sun.

"Go to hell, Rene Chandel..." Lynne said, closing her eyes again.

Rene planted a foot on Lynne's chest and rolled her over with a small kick.

"Do you want to hear my proposition now?" the redheaded rogue asked.

Lynne spoke into the dirt. "Do I have a choice?"

"You always have a choice, Lynne. I would never force you to do anything."

Lynne groaned and reached out her weary arms. They eventually found the wooden fence behind her and she was able to pull herself up.

"The antidote..." she whispered. Her forehead was doused in a mixture of sweat and earth. "Please, Rene... I need the antidote."

"You have time to hear me out first." She knelt down in front of Lynne, took a damp rag from the bucket she had carried over, and began scrubbing the dirt from Lynne's face. "I will make this brief by being completely honest with you."

"Oh. You can do that?"

"I don't particularly like you. In fact, you may be one of the most unpleasant people I've ever met. If even half of the stories I've heard about you are true, I should just put my rapier through your heart now and leave your body here for the crows."

"Then why don't you?"

Rene moved the cloth down Lynne's neck.

"Because those stories are precisely the reason I sought you out. You're good at finding people. And, as I said last night, I need your help tracking someone."

Lynne caught Rene by the wrist.

"But why me?" she asked. "You're a scout. Why can't you track this person down?"

"Let's just say I don't have time to be chasing rats through tunnels when you already know your way around these sewers."

"Yes..." There was more than a subtle hint of irritation in Lynne's voice. "Let's say that..."

"This particular rat, however, is someone you know very well."

"Ah, I see. You want me to betray one of my friends." Lynne flashed a weak grin, got a little braver, and released Rene's arm. "Well, my friend, unlike you, I live by a code of hon—"

"Shut up about your code," Rene said, dunking the rag back in the bucket. "Do you think I don't know you? I've done my homework. I know you were dismissed from the Sisterhood of the Blue Rose for abusing your powers. I know you began working as a mercenary and made a name for yourself by killing a couple of big-time marauders and pillaging their homes. You probably thought you could achieve fame and fortune by hiding behind a badge and sword. Not a bad idea for a two-bit thug like yourself—but let me tell you something, Lynne. You can speak all you want of honor and justice, but even the noblest cause is shit in the water if your intentions are aligned elsewhere." She slapped the rag against Lynne's face again. "That's the difference between you and me. I don't hide who I am."

Lynne sputtered out water.

"Besides," Rene said, scrubbing the ninja's hair, "this isn't one of your friends. At least, the last I heard, you and Kamilla were still sworn enemies."

"Kamilla? You want to find Kamilla?" Lynne laughed. "Is that what this is about? Kamilla is a phantom. You can look for her all day long, in any season of any year, and you won't find her. You don't find her. She finds you."

"One could say the same about anybody with a large bounty on their head."

"Yeah... Well, except for you, you little tramp. You could learn a lot from Kamilla. At least she knows how to stay in the shadows. You can't even do that! You could be the single worst rogue I've ever met. You try to be secretive, but everybody knows your name and what you've done."

"If you ask me, that means I must be pretty good at what I do."

"But are you good enough to find Kamilla on your own?" Lynne sneered.

"I guess we'll find out," Rene said. She dropped the rag, dusted off her hands, and stood up. "...Good-bye, Lynne."

"Hey, wait."

"What?"

"What about the antidote?"

"I didn't make any."

"What? You said—"

"I'm a liar. You said so yourself."

Sparks lit up in the ninja's eyes.

"Damn you!" Lynne cried, scrambling to her feet. She was a little unsteady at first, but she came at Rene full force.

Rene easily sidestepped the attack and knocked her to the ground.

After wiping the blood from her lips, Lynne crawled to her feet again.

"You snake," she growled. "You were just going to leave me here to rot like a sack of potatoes after I told you how to find Kamilla."

"You don't know how to find Kamilla."

"I didn't say that."

"I don't have time for games. And neither do you."

Lynne was quiet, but the pounding of her heart could be heard halfway across the farmyard.

"...Look, I might—just might—be able to help you," she said. "But I don't know where Kamilla is right now. Nobody does. And I certainly can't find her if I only have a couple of hours left to live."

"I suppose that would be asking a lot, even from a great tracker like yourself."

"Yes, so you see the dilemma we face."

"I see no dilemma here."

"Yes, Rene!" Lynne said, flailing her arms about. "The antidote. The antidote you said it'd take you all night to make!"

"I don't know about that. I spent the night sleeping."

"So you lied!"

"Last night? Yes, I did."

Lynne looked confused. "Wait... What are you saying?"

Rene picked up the bucket and set it on the fencepost.

"Lifandoral isn't lethal," she said. "Actually, it's quite delicious when ingested normally. I put it on my bread all the time. In fact, I have a plate inside waiting for you, if you'd like to join me."

"But..."

"All the side-effects you exhibited were brought on by yourself. I had no idea you would take it so seriously."

Lynne stood there, mouth agape, and stared at Rene with such anger and hatred in her eyes that she might have burned a hole in the sun if she had looked the other way.

"I should kill you now..." she said, reaching for the hilt of her katana, even though she hadn't brought it with her. After a moment or two, her face muscles began to relax and she chuckled a little. "...But damn, that's impressive. You got me."

"Then you will help?"

"That depends. Are your intentions towards Kamilla friendly or hostile?"

"Why does that matter to you?"

Realizing she wasn't a few minutes away from certain death, Lynne seemed more confident than before.

"Well, you see..." she said. "If you and Kamilla were to join forces and rally against me, that would put me in a difficult and awkward situation. You two are dangerous fugitives of justice, after all. If you ask me, I believe Kaligar would be a much better place when the two of you are behind bars once and for all."

"...Fortunately for you, I don't think that will ever happen."

"Then we are in agreement. For now."

"I am glad to hear it," Rene said, extending her hand.

Lynne shook it, tightened her grip, and pulled the redhead closer.

"But let me warn you right now," she hissed into Rene's ear. "Your performance last night made me look like a fool in front of my own kind. If you ever do something like to me again, or if I even suspect you of trying to double-cross me, I will scalp you, bury you alive, and piss on your grave."

"That is quite the vile thing to do," Rene said with a smile. "I just got my hair done."

-------------------------

It was a quiet night at the pearl farms when a rowboat pulled up to the docks and a drunken Zana stumbled out, holding onto the neck of a beer bottle in one hand and the handle of an oar in the other. It wasn't until she got halfway across the pier that she realized she didn't need the oar and tossed it in the water.

It wasn't until she got to the end of the pier that she realized she was still holding the oar and the beer bottle was gone.

Coop was inside the storage shed, polishing a seemingly endless row of pearls with a rag as old and dusty as his hair, while Captain Jargon and Blackthorn snoozed in the corner of the room. As the staggering footsteps of Zana drew closer, Exthame moved away from the wall and shook them awake.

"Halt," Adam said, blocking the doorway. His large body blocked the dim light inside the shed. "Who goes there?"

"It's me, you stupid fish," Zana belched as she bumped into him. "Your boss. Your superior. Lemme through."

"I can't do that," Adam said. "We're...uh...bleaching the floor."

Zana tried to get by him, but he was too heavy to move and she was too inebriated to make a halfway decent attempt.

"You are not," she said. "Lemme through."

Adam continued to form a wall around the door.

"What are you hiding?" Zana hiccuped. She tried to peek over Adam's shoulders. "Do you got beer in there? I smell beer."

"That's probably because you're drunk," Adam said.

"Shut up. I don't need a fish to tell me when I've had too much."

"I only said—"

"Lemme through!" Zana cried. This time, she was able to break through Adam and squeeze through the doorway.

"A-ha!" she said. "I knew it. You're all drinking in here."

The pirates, who were all gathered around an overturned crate, put down their bottles.

"...Well, yeah," Captain Jargon said. "We're pirates. That's what we do."

"I'm reporting you to the mermaids..." Zana stumbled over to them. "...Unless... Unless you give me some."

Blackthorn slid a bottle over to her.

"Here you go, lassie," he said. "Drink up."

She eyed him, picked up the bottle, and took a swig.

"...You're doing a terrible job at taking inventory," she said, gazing around the room. "Is this what you do all night? Sit around and drink while those two fish do all the work?" She pointed over at Coop, who turned his back to her. "Hey, wait a second..." She squinted her eyes. "That's just one fish." She turned back to the table and scratched her scalp with her long, jagged fingernails. "How many fish are there supposed to be?"

"Just us," Adam said quickly, helping Zana into a chair. "We're all here."

Zana's head began to wobble in her seat.

"So, what brings our illustrious boss to our humble quarters tonight?" Exthame asked. His expression remained stoic behind his darkened shades. "Have you come to see the common man at work?"

"I'm looking for Fayrelin," she said. "I can't find her anywhere."

"Have you checked the tavern yet?" Captain Jargon asked, and then he and Blackthorn roared in laughter.

"...Shut up," Zana said. "She's nowhere to be found. I thought maybe she stayed behind to talk to some of you fish."

Adam glanced around nervously. "Talk to us? W-why would she talk to us?"

Blackthorn elbowed him in the gut.

"Because she's always talking to you fish!" Zana snapped, wringing the neck of the bottle in her hand. "Every time I take my eyes off her, she's either talking to one of you or giving you looks out of the corner of her eye. I don't know what she sees in you."

"You got me," Adam said. "We're not good people..."

"You're not even people! You're fish. Little teeny fish swimming in a little teeny fishbowl, waiting to get eaten by even bigger fish..." Zana began puckering her lips and making fish faces at them. "Glub glub glub."

"...You're really drunk," Adam said. "Maybe you should put down the..."

"You know she tricked you?" Zana blurted out. "That bet you made with her...when you lost your ship...about guessing the number of gold coins in a treasure chest... She totally rigged that. That was her treasure chest. She tricked you guys and you believed her. That's how dumb you are. Dumb little fishies."

"What!?" Jargon's fist went through the crate. "That devious, lying scoundrel!"

It took both Blackthorn and Adam to hold him down.

"Aw, is the little fishy upset?" Zana cooed, puckering her lips again. "I can't believe she never told you the truth. She must really hate you."

"That's enough," Adam said. "Fayrelin isn't here. We haven't seen her all night."

"Well, that's strange, because I know every place she frequents and she's not in any of those places."

"Maybe she found someone else to hang out with tonight," Exthame said. "I hear it's not uncommon for you pygmies to have many friends."

"I'm going to kill her!" Jargon continued to scream as Blackthorn and Adam pinned him to his chair.

"That's why I thought she might be here..." Zana said, scanning the room again. "One fish, two fish..."

"Well, she's obviously not here," Adam interrupted.

"Hang on. I'm trying to count."

"You can see none of us look like her."

"Hey... Where's the long-haired one?"

"Who?"

Zana dropped her bottle and stood up.

"The one with long hair who Fayrelin is always talking to," she said. "Where is he?"

"Uh, uh..." Adam looked at the others and then panicked and ran outside.

"...Malkav went into the backroom to get us some supplies," Exthame said coolly. "He'll be out shortly. In the meantime, we can discuss the world's changing economics."

"Ugh, no... Nevermind." Zana held her head. "I need to go lie down... I feel nauseous."

"Here I am!" Adam said, jumping back into the room with a mop on his head. "I am Malkav, the long-haired rogue, returning from my short trip to the latrine."

Zana gawked at him with her mouth still open.

"What kind of joke are you fish trying to play on me...?" she asked. "I can tell you're the chubby one."

"Um, no. I am Malkav! See my dagger?" Adam held up a spoon.

"Give me that!" Zana swiped it away from it and pointed it at Adam and then the pirates at the table. "...I don't know what's going on here, but I'm going to get to the bottom of this. If you don't tell me where the long-haired fish is now, I'm going to gut you all...like...like fish!"

Blackthorn stared down at the weapon in her hand.

"...With a spoon?" he asked.

"Tell me!"

"...We don't know," Exthame said.

"You don't know!?"

"He never showed up after work."

"Ah... So, he thought he can play hockey, eh?"

"Hookey."

"I'll get to the bottom of this!"

"You already said that," Adam said, but Zana pushed right through him.

"When you see me next, I'll be wearing the long-haired fish as a necklace!" Zana shouted and promptly ran into the wall. It took her two more tries to get through the door. Then, about a minute later, they heard a splash as Zana missed the rowboat completely.

"...Do you boys think you should be egging her on like that?" Coop asked. "She may not be the brightest pearl in the sea, but she has a temper. You've all seen it. If she goes back to the island and finds those two together, it's going to spell trouble for us all."

"I don't even think she'll make it back to the island," Blackthorn joked. "That is, unless she swims!"

"We'll be okay," Exthame assured the old man, who still had his back to them. "Zana never remembers anything when she gets this drunk. She'll get back, wander around the streets for a couple of hours looking for them, and then pass out on somebody's doorstep."

"Aye, you're probably right," Coop said, polishing the large pearl in front of him.

"...I still don't think it was a good idea for them to run off together like that," Blackthorn said. "That sorry lad is running a fine line with the higher-ups here. He might just get us all killed."

"Malkav knows what he's doing," Adam said, picking up the spilled beer bottles on the floor. "If he says it's important to the mission, then it is."

Exthame nodded his head in silent agreement.

"...Whatever. Jargon and I aren't so convinced. Isn't that right, captain?"

But Jargon was too busy grinding his fist into the crate.

"I'm going to kill that scamp," he muttered to himself. "When I get my hands on her, she's going to wish she never crossed paths with pirates before..."

Suddenly, Zana stormed back into the room. Her clothes were heavy and wet and she dragged them across the floor and snatched one of the beer bottles away from Adam.

"I want my oar back," she said, and then she staggered out the door.

-------------------------

"...This is your fault, you know," Sophia said.

Michelle ignored her and continued to sift through the shards of glass and shredded papers scattered unceremoniously across the floor of their trailer. When she found her stage bodice buried beneath the wreckage of a fallen bookshelf, she sighed, ironed out the wrinkles with her hands, and laid it on the table next to her vanity.

"You literally threw them out the door. You just couldn't wait to get rid of them."

"I didn't think they'd vandalize our stuff and run away," Michelle said. "How in the world did those two even manage this?" She picked up an overturned chair and righted it, only to see the stuffing had dribbled onto the floor from a series of crisscrossing gashes in the cushion.

"Well, they did, Michelle! Some fortune-teller you are. Idiot. Those two are smarter than you've ever been..."

"Excuse me? Young lady, I will not—"

Sophia shoved her middle finger in the gypsy's face.

"This isn't Michelle's fault," Roy said. He and the others were sitting on the edge of Michelle's vanity. "....I got mad at Bob and Guy for trying to teach me their...uh, unique fishing techniques...and I yelled at them. Maybe a little too much. If anyone's to blame for their disappearance, it's me."

"So you're the one we have to thank?" Mack asked.

"I suppose I was pretty harsh on the little guys, too," Wallace said, rubbing his neck. "I shouldn't have tried to force work ethic on them."

"And maybe I shouldn't have pounded their faces into the dirt for claiming to see Michelle in the nude," Russell said, more to himself than anyone else.

Mack looked over. "Wait. They got to see Michelle naked? How come we never get to see Michelle naked?"

"Probably because you'd turn to stone," Sophia muttered, picking up a heavy black ledger that had fallen beneath the desk and flipping through it.

Jesse clambered into the trailer through the open door, which had been broken from its hinges.

"No luck," he said. "They've probably made it into the forest by now."

"Then we'll never find them," Sophia said, closing the ledger. "Bob and Guy are gone forever."

Mack pumped his arm in celebration.

"I'm sure they'll be back," Jesse said, dusting off his daredevil jacket. "I mean, come on. They're Bob and Guy. Where are they going to go?"

"Maybe they'll find a job somewhere else," Roy suggested, but that notion was ridiculous enough that they all shared a good laugh at the expense of their missing comrades.

Meanwhile, Michelle picked up a broom that was leaning against the far wall and began to sweep the debris on the floor into a tidy pile.

"Maybe they left some kind of clue behind," she suggested.

"Oh, so now you're a detective?" Sophia asked.

Michelle's knuckles turned white around the broom handle.

"...You know, Sophia," she said, after taking a deep breath. "I could use some help here. You're the only other one in this room big enough to help me clean up."

Sophia folded her arms across her chest. "But a broom just seems so fitting for you."

"...I'm trying really hard to make peace with you, Sophia. The least you could do is give me a chance every now and then instead of ridiculing me for everything I do." Michelle threw down the broom. "If you have a problem with me, let me know."

"Okay. I have a problem with you."

"Well... Good then. We're making progress."

"We're not making anything, Michelle," Sophia said. "You can cut out this 'motherly' act of yours. You don't know the first thing about me."

"It's okay, Sophia," a voice piped in from underneath the trailer and Jeff suddenly popped his head up through one of the holes in the floorboards at Sophia's feet. "You don't need to be jealous that Bob and Guy would rather see Michelle naked than you."

A unison moan echoed through the trailer, breaking the tension.

"...We were beginning to wonder if you went with Bob and Guy," Mack said.

"Nope. I'm still here." Jeff climbed out of the floorboards, yawned, and scratched his underarm. "Anyway, if it makes you feel better, Sophia, I'd rather see you naked than Michelle any day."

Michelle huffed and glared at him.

"Don't talk that way about my daughter, boy," Russell shouted from atop the vanity. He tossed a crumpled piece of paper at Jeff's head.

Sophia snatched up the fallen broom. "...You know, I think I'll help you clean up the garbage after all." With that, she swept Jeff into the heap of detritus.

"It might not be too late, Jeff," Mack said. "You could probably still catch up to Bob and Guy if you hurry."

Jeff crawled out of the refuse and wiped the dust from his face.

"I don't want to go with Bob and Guy!" he said. "They're stupid and mean. They think they're so cool just because they got to hang out with that pretty yellow lady."

Michelle looked down at her dress. "But I'm not even wearing yellow..."

"Not everything is about you, Michelle," Sophia said. "He could be referring to me."

Everybody looked at Sophia's black leather shirt, black leather leggings, black leather boots, and black leather gloves. Then they had themselves another good round of laughter.

"Neither of you!" Jeff said. "I was referring to the pretty lady in the yellow dress that sparkled like daffodils."

"You mean dandelions?" Mack asked.

"No. Daffodils..."

Sophia knelt down next to Jeff. "What are you talking about? What lady?"

"You can't have her. Bob and Guy already claimed her."

"Jeff, I swear, if you know what happened to them..."

"Oh, keep your pants on, Sophia." Then he turned to Mack and winked. "Unless you want to take them off..."

"...Don't make me come down there," Russell growled.

Sophia pinched Jeff's head between her forefinger and thumb and spun him around like a top. Her colossal face loomed over him.

"Start talking," she breathed. "Now."

"Oh, well..." Jeff started. "I was spying on them from inside my gopher hole. I do that a lot, you see. They won't talk to me otherwise. They think they're better than me. But they're really not. So I was listening to the and I overheard them talking about how none of you have any talent and they are so much better and how they wanted to start their own circus, which would be like a bajillion times better than the boring routine you guys do."

"Get to the woman already."

"Well, after I stuck up for you and told them how awesome you all are—especially you, Sophia—they told me to go away. I usually don't listen to them, but I did this time because what they were saying was so not true. So I left, but not really, because I was still watching them from inside my gopher hole. I told you I did that a lot. And that's when the lady in the pretty yellow dress showed up and took them away."

"What did she look like?"

"Um..." Jeff blinked. "Gee, Sophia, I dunno. She looked like a girl. She was tall and had boobs."

Mack nudged Roy. "I guess that means Sophia is out."

Russell slapped Mack again.

"Details, Jeff," Sophia said. "What color hair did she have? What did she look like?"

Jeff proceeded to give them such an accurate and overly exaggerated detail of the woman that a sketch artist would have no problem creating an exact likeness of the person. In fact, it bordered on the line of creepiness.

Jesse was the first to speak up.

"I don't remember anybody dressed like that in the audience last night," he said. He had the look of a man consumed by his thoughts. "No, I'm sure I would remember if I did..."

Forgetting for a moment that her boyfriend was fawning over other women, Sophia sat down in a chair and mulled over Jeff's description of the lady in the yellow dress.

"Her choice of clothing sounds far too elegant to belong to any of the peasants around here," she said. "You saw how they were dressed. I don't think any of them could even afford a seamstress to hem a dress like that."

"Are you thinking a noble?" Jesse asked. "Or at least somebody of high standing."

Russell and Wallace looked at each other.

"Maybe," Sophia said. "But why would somebody with the gold to afford a dress like that want Bob and Guy?"

"Or anybody, for that matter," Mack pointed out.

"Yes, thank you, Mack."

Wallace nodded at Russell, who then stroked his beard casually and turned to his rather large, irate daughter.

"...Uh, Wallace and I may know the identity of this mystery girl," he said. "In fact, she may be somebody we've told you about before."

"Somebody you've told me about before..." Sophia started. "Who is that?"

"You may remember, a few years back, when Bob and Guy had...woman troubles and we were forced to rescue them. The first time that happened."

Sophia closed her eyes and leaned her palm against her forehead. "Please don't tell me this is the same psychotic girl who hunted you across her courtyard for sport..."

"The description fits," Wallace said. "I'm sorry to say, Sophia, but it looks like Duchess May is back on the hunt."

"Oh, that's great. That's fantastic, guys. Way to go." Sophia threw her arms up in the air. "You just had to play hero, and now we have a serial killer tracking us down."

"So this is what it feels like to be stalked..." Jeff muttered to himself. "This must be what all those girls in school went through before the restraining orders..."

"I can't believe this," Sophia said. "How did she find us!?"

"That's a good question," Russell said, patting Wallace on the shoulder. "The last time we saw that girl, she couldn't track an elephant across a dirt field in the middle of the day."

"I guess that's why we haven't heard from her in three years," his old war buddy added.

"I'm glad you two think this is so funny," Sophia said.

Wallace grinned sheepishly. "You didn't see her dangling upside down from a rope."

"I only wish we had a stick at the end," Russell said. "I bet candy would've come pouring out that mouth of hers."

"No...Bob and Guy would have," Sophia snapped. "In case you two have forgotten, May ate them. Remember now? Gulp. Gone. No more Bob and Guy. Ring any bells?"

Russell and Wallace looked down at their feet.

"I guess she lost her lunch and wanted it back," Mack said. "Too bad for Bob and Guy, eh?"

"We don't know that for sure," Roy said. "Maybe she's just trying to...round up her old friends and... Yeah, they're probably dead."

Mack turned back to Jeff. "You can still catch up with them, you know."

Michelle moved over to the vanity.

"If May is here, that means she's found you," she said. "We can't consider this a coincidence. Although I wonder why she took Bob and Guy and left you two alone..."

"It's true she probably came for us," Wallace said. "She fancies herself a huntress and a creature of the wild, but she enjoys toying with her prey. Killing unsuspecting game is...not in her nature."

"So, Bob and Guy were bait?"

"No..." Russell said. "May considered their lives forfeit. To her, they already lost her game and didn't deserve a sporting chase. She left that chase for us. By taking Bob and Guy and trashing our trailer, she's saying, 'The hunt is back on' the only way she knows how."

"Enough!" Sophia said. "I don't care if she's royalty. We're going to find May and tell her to stop this."

"She said you're welcome to try," Jeff said. "In fact, she said you're welcome to come to see her place at Oceanside at any time. She said the courtyard is...open for play?"

All eyes turned to Jeff.

"You...talked to her?" Sophia asked, but it was the question on everybody's mind.

"Yeah! Gee, and I thought I was the only one who was surprised a girl outside of you and Michelle talked to me." Jeff breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm glad I'm not alone."

"And you didn't think to call for help for one of us?"

"Well, no! Then she would've eaten me, too."

Michelle gasped and put a hand over her mouth.

"She ate Bob and Guy..." she whispered.

"Oh, come on! Geez, it wasn't like this was the first time she did this to them."

Wallace's face was grim.

"It looks like it was no accident that you saw what you saw, Jeff," he said. "She wanted us to know she's after us. I suppose you should consider yourself lucky."

"Then she knows we're coming," Michelle said.

"What choice do we have?" Sophia asked. "If we stay here, we don't know when she'll strike again. If we go to Oceanside, at least we'll know where to expect her."

"Or we'll be walking right into her trap."

"We're not Bob and Guy, Michelle. We're smart. We know what we're doing."

"I'd normally advise against this, but..." Michelle looked at the men on the vanity and laid her arms at her side. "You're right. If we can confront her face to face, we might have a chance. We outnumber her, after all, and maybe I can put a spell on her to make her forget this whole 'hunt' notion that she has..."

"I was thinking I'd just bash her over the head with my guitar until she suffers from a concussion—but your fruity mind trick idea works, too," Sophia said. "Pack your things, everyone. We're heading to Oceanside."