Chapter 1

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Black and white.

I had to be imagining things. I’d never heard of the color leeching out of a person’s vision, and my life wasn’t an ancient movie. Blinking quickly, hoping my imagination had the better of me, I waited for color to return to the world.

Absently, I reached to scratch a tickle on the inside of my elbow. My fingers came away covered in a dark, angry-looking viscous liquid. As I stared at it, trying to figure out what it was, it suddenly shone red so brightly I had to squint. Blood.

In the half dozen heartbeats devoid of color that had seemed to last a year I hadn’t noticed the pain in my shoulder. My eyes adjusted to the colors in the murky light around me as the stabbing pain demanded my attention.

“What the—oh, crap.” A thorn. Could something that enormous be called a thorn? It was embedded deeply, too. I could tell from the river of blood seeping out around the edges.

There was nothing for it; I was going to have to pull the damn thing out. I knew having something so large protruding from the wound may actually be holding the bleeding in check, but since there seemed to be red all over the place I figured it was safe. Besides, I didn’t want to walk through the woods with what looked like a pterodactyl claw hanging out of me.

I braced myself for the pain—hoping against hope that it wouldn’t be too bad—and yanked with all the strength I could muster.

“You are such a girl.” Tears sprang to my eyes as I ground my teeth against the pain.

Forcing myself to look at the injured shoulder I let my muscles loosen. It wasn’t as bad as it had looked. The gash was three or four inches long, but the edges were smooth, and the flow of blood was already ebbing. Maybe I’d over-reacted. It looked like a lot of red, but I had a feeling it was only because it had smeared so far. The hole was obviously deep—which I should have realized with half the barb’s foot-long length painted red. The shock to my brain of being stabbed so deeply had to be what caused my vision to go funny.

“I might as well keep the thing,” I muttered. It broke from the branch easily. I figured the doctor would probably need to see it to believe I hadn’t been the victim of a mugging-gone-wrong or something. If I ever found my way to a hospital. Until then, I’d have a wicked weapon if I needed to protect myself from anything in the forest.

Moving carefully, I forced my way through the rest of the giant, man-eating shrub. If only I’d chosen to impale myself on one of the outer thorns. They were so much smaller they couldn’t have caused more than a scratch.

“Hurry up,” I chastised myself. There was no way I was going to find my prey at this speed.

Despite my need for haste, I paused at the edge of the bush to listen. After only a minute or two, wild laughter drifted through the trees. Sure which direction to go, I darted after them, grateful for the pine needles coating the ground. They rolled underfoot and made it hard to keep my balance, but they helped me travel quickly. They propelled me to the base of a steep hill, and the momentum kept me moving another fifteen feet or so beyond.

It would have been farther, but I couldn’t steer around the thick tree in my path. Pulling huge gulps of air into my burning lungs I climbed to my feet. My breathing calmed, my pulse settled. As the dense silence blanketed me I realized the laughter was gone.

Crap. I’d lost them.

Taking a minute to stretch my legs so they wouldn’t seize up on me, I stood, brushing at the grime streaking my body. Even though I avoided the injured shoulder my hand skimmed fresh cuts, making me wince. I’d have to find some water to clean the muck from all the scrapes before they got infected. Of course, that would probably have to wait until I could figure out where I was.

Nothing was familiar. Okay, so maybe that wasn’t true, but it was only familiar because it all looked the same, other than the fact that this area had less underbrush. I knew I’d never been here before. I would’ve remembered being in a forest so dense it hovered on the edge of a constant dusk—not that I’d spent much time in the woods before now.

An abrupt shout rang through the air. They were close, much closer than they’d been all morning. Frantically, I looked around. There was no visible sign of them, and no way to tell where they were. I didn’t dare just choose a direction and run—what if I went the wrong way?

Knowing I had no other choice, I dropped the giant thorn I carried and turned, reaching for the lowest tree branch. A hiss slid through my teeth as the strain on my shoulder pulled at the cut. I clambered as high as I could, careful not to trust all my weight to my left arm. When the branches were too close to push through, and getting too weak to hold me anyway, I stopped.

I looked out, chose a random spot and began searching for any movement as I slowly turned. Halfway through my second rotation I thought I heard something. My body tensed with adrenaline as I froze, eyes closed, waiting. Less than a minute passed before my ears pricked again. The sounds were there, but they were too faint. I couldn’t place them. I held my breath as I concentrated, clutching the branch above me with my right hand and gripping the one I stood on with my toes to allow my sore shoulder to rest.

A low groan filled the air, quickly becoming a screech. It ended with a crash as the branch I’d been standing on parted from the rest of the tree. I grappled for a better, tighter hold on the tree; excruciating pain shot through my shoulder as I forced my hand over my head. Belatedly, I heard the scream rip from my throat.

Men’s shouts and the sound of people rushing through the shrubs added to my confusion. Had they really been that close? Either they’d been just out of sight or I’d missed them.

“Are you all right?” The voice was soft, almost caring, and it came from right next to me.

Slowly opening my eyes I looked at the man—boy, really, he couldn’t have been much older than me—and nodded, unable to trust my voice. He reached out, wrapping an arm around my waist, and swung me against his side. His touch was much gentler than I expected and I allowed him to carry me to the ground.

It was the first good look of the men I’d gotten and I had to admit, what I saw caught me off guard. There were three of them, and they didn’t strike me as friends hanging out—their ages were too widely ranged for that. They clearly weren’t related, either.

A short, wiry guy motioned for the one holding me to step away.

He set me down, shrugging as he backed off. The relief I felt at reaching solid ground had been overwhelming, yet as the young man stepped away I felt an odd vulnerability settling around me. It was an alien feeling, making it even more disconcerting. I’d always been strong, in control, and when I wasn’t I knew how to handle it. The looks from the two older men had me wondering what I’d gotten myself into.

“Who are you?” the wiry guy asked. A shudder rippled my spine in response to his leering.

“Why do you even care?” I asked, so unnerved from my near-fall and the way the guy eyed me that I forgot I’d been trying to catch up with them. Sneaking up on them was more like it; I’d hoped to at least see them before bringing myself to their attention. “I didn’t realize guys like you cared who their victims were.”

Surprise, then uncertainty flitted across his face. “Guys like me, or guys like us? What do you even know of us?” The strain in his voice was palpable. There was definitely another level to his question.

I could barely bring myself to answer. “All I need to know about you is clear from the look you’re giving me. It doesn’t take much imagination to realize what you’re thinking of trying next.”

“The look—wait, what exactly did you believe I would try?”

A short laugh caused him to look over at my rescuer, my knight of the day. “Consider, Nathan, where she must come from. Three guys finding a stray girl alone in the woods . . . how could she possibly believe we don’t have . . . other things planned?”

Nathan. If they were willing to let me know even one of their names, maybe my snap judgment was wrong and they were okay. But I wasn’t ready to let my guard down. I’d dealt with looks like Nathan had been giving me before and it had never been easy.

Nathan grimaced as he turned his gaze back to me. “Right. We actually didn’t realize you were here. How could we? This hasn’t ever—what I mean is, please accept our apologies for alarming you. There’s been a misunderstanding. We were just performing an inspection, but it’s lucky we found you. How did you get here, if you don’t mind my asking?”

He looked so sincere as he made an effort to calm me that I found myself laughing. Hysterically, maybe, but it was still laughter.

Even while focusing on pulling myself together, Nathan’s accent forced itself to the front of my mind. It was strange, one I’d never heard before. My initial thought was that he was European, but there seemed to be hints of something else mixed in, too—African, maybe, or Middle-Eastern.

One of them—I didn’t know which—cleared his throat. I started, realizing I hadn’t answered the question.

“I don’t actually know. I remember getting ready for bed last night, and settling in with a book, but that’s it.” I hadn’t had a sleepwalking episode in years, but obviously I’d relapsed.

“Do you remember what happened to you? You’re all scratched up. That cut on your shoulder looks particularly bad.” That was my knight again.

I waved my hand, dismissing his concern. “I met some angry bushes. The thorn that caught my shoulder is around here somewhere.”

Nathan looked around, then walked over and picked it up. “This thing?”

“Yeah.”

“These are dangerous even when they’re small. You’ll need to have that wound thoroughly cleaned.”

“I know. Do you know this area well? I’m staying at a cabin somewhere nearby. Once I get back I’ll find my way to a hospital. Can you tell me which direction leads out of here?” I asked, gesturing at the trees. What I really wanted was a hot shower, and some Neosporin and bandages for all my scrapes. I wasn’t looking forward to having my shoulder stitched, but the stinging was spreading down my arm.

The men exchanged looks, pulling my mind back to my current problem of being lost. I knew those looks. They meant trouble. There was something these guys didn’t want me to know.

“There aren’t any cabins right near here. How far have you gone?” asked the one who was my age.

“I don’t know. I’ve been trying to catch up with you guys all morning,” I admitted, “but I don’t know where that started, or how I got there.”

Another loaded look passed between them.

“Look, I can tell you think I’m crazy.”

“I don’t believe you’re—what did you say, crazy?” said Nathan. “I’m just trying to figure out the best thing to do here.”

“Didn’t you say you knew where I came from, though?”

“Aye, I’ve an idea, but I don’t know how to get you back there.”

“We’d better take her back with us,” said my knight.

They paused and exchanged yet another look. I was sick of being the only one who didn’t know what was going on and these weird silent exchanges were freaking me out. Maybe these guys really were freaks.

“You don’t really think I’m stupid enough to go wandering off with three strangers, do you? Don’t any of you have a cell phone I could use? I can have someone pick me up.”

That started them all muttering. What sort of people were these men? I’d never seen anyone react so oddly to the idea of calling for help.

“No, we don’t have cell phones—if you want help you’re stuck with us,” Nathan said. He turned to the youngest guy, my knight, again. “Right. Tim and I will go alert people. This is yours. Tell her only what you believe she needs to know before she sees the council. We’ll let them know you’re coming. We’ll also find someone who can treat that shoulder.”

They turned and disappeared in the foliage, leaving me with my knight. In a way, I was glad. He was the only one who’d left me completely at ease, and I wasn’t outnumbered anymore.

“Sorry about Nathan. He can come over as a bit of a tiss. I promise I’ll be nice,” he said. “I’m Mac.”

So my knight had a name. I automatically shook the hand he offered. “Narissa.”

“Narissa?” he asked.

“Yes. Narissa.” I got that a lot.

“Narissa, like the daughter of Nereus?” asked Mac. “That’s natty. Miss Nymph.”

How did he know that? Narissa wasn’t even one of the better-known nymphs, like Galatea or Thetis. The kids I grew up with hadn’t caught on until junior high—then they wouldn’t let me forget it. The boys, especially. I’d lost track of how many thousands of times I’d wished my mother hadn’t let her obsession with nymphs decide my name. Maybe I really should change it; it was only a few months until my birthday, then I’d be legal.

And what was natty supposed to mean, anyway?

“Sorry,” he apologized, grinning. “I said I’d be nice. Narissa. So, do you want to take the path with the good views or the direct route?”

Having Mac give me a say in things reinforced my initial positive reaction to him. “Direct, I think,” I said. “I didn’t wear my hiking boots.” I had a feeling this might turn out to be the worst day of my disastrous week.

“Are you certain you’ll be all right?” Mac asked doubtfully, looking at my bare feet. “It’ll take us a while to get back to the city, even going the fast way. You could have my boots.”

“Your boots look big enough I’d just be walking out of them. I’ll manage,” I said, mentally thumbing my nose at my mother. She was always trying to make me wear shoes. Well, the thick calluses were finally paying off. My feet were sore from so much running and sliding, but I didn’t have any blisters yet. “What city were you talking about? I thought this was the middle of nowhere.”

Mac chuckled. “It is—even more than you realize. You won’t have seen the city before but trust me, it’s there. There’s a path just a ways over here.”

Mac started jabbering as we walked, just nonsense stories, like he was trying to keep me from freaking out. His accent was less guttural than either of the guys who’d left. It was closer to English or Scottish, even though there were some odd things mixed in. His voice was deep, more relaxing than I would have expected. It didn’t quite go with his looks. Everything about him was pale: light skin, pale blond hair, light blue eyes. The bright colors of his clothes only washed him out further.

After a few minutes I realized he wasn’t worried about keeping me calm—the nonstop talking just came naturally to him. I felt sorry for his family. They must never get a word in.

“Tell me about this council you’re taking me to.” I said, trying to get the whole question out while Mac took a breath.

He pulled a face. “The council is in charge of things in the city—the governing body. They get to solve all the problems around here. Don’t worry. They’re bossy, but they’ll find a way to help you.”

From there, Mac went directly into a long story that had nothing to do with the council, making me forget the question hovering on my tongue.

We continued walking, Mac streaming gossip. After a while, a glimpse of something pale and smoky caught my eye through the trees. Without thinking, I headed off the narrow trail to see what it was. When I looked over my shoulder to make sure Mac was following me, his anxious look froze my smile.

The trees came to an abrupt end just before reaching the whiteness that had grabbed my attention. I looked up, then left and right. It never ended—a dense wall of swirling, luminescent fog. Curious, I walked up to it, reaching out a finger to poke it.

“Ow!” My finger had crumpled like an accordion—something I thought only happened in cartoons. The fog was hard. I ran a hand over it. It felt cool, the smoothness reminding me of polished marble.

“It’s solid,” I said, turning to Mac.

He laughed, but the unease still pulled at his face. I guess he’d been expecting a different reaction. “Aye. It’s a wall. A barrier, really. It marks our city’s boundaries.”

“Someone built a wall of fog?” Obviously he thought I was stupid, expecting me to believe something like that. Then again, I was looking at the proof.

Mac started walking along the wall, mumbling to himself as he paced. Finally he turned, his gaze boring into me. “Right. I don’t know how much the council will want you to know, but obviously I’ve got to explain this somehow. I have to be certain the council won’t believe I’m overstepping. I’ll tell you what I can, but I’ve got to keep it simple. ”

“Okay, just the basics, then,” I agreed, curious as to what the big secret was. I lowered myself to the ground, grateful for a chance to rest; I’d been getting a bit lightheaded—too much exercise on an empty stomach always made me woozy.

“This place, we call it The Refuge, was set up as a sanctuary from the wars. They chose a nice out-of-the-way nook here in the mountains, then made this barrier to keep us from being found. It marks the area where we’re safe.”

“So once you’re on the other side of this thing you’re safe from everything?” Yeah, right.

“Uh, not on the other side,” Mac said, looking uncomfortable again. “This is the side where we’re safe. Nothing can get through that wall.”

Now I was confused. Had I spent my whole life in this place without knowing it? To hide my uncertainty I asked the first question that came to mind. “Is it here to keep things out, or to keep people in?”

“Out, mainly, but it does work both ways. I believe they’re trying to keep us from getting into too much trouble,” Mac said with a wicked grin. “Somewhere there’s a gate or a door or something to let people out, but I don’t know where. I guess it’s probably more like a bridge. Something to connect us to your dimension, anyway.”

“What? This is a different dimension—different from my world?” I was starting to wonder if this was one of those reality shows where they try to find out how gullible you are.

“Aye. They lifted this bit of land into another space or something. I really don’t know how it works. Actually, I’m not certain if anyone does. We don’t understand loads of the things the founders did or made, we just know how to use them.”

“I guess it could be worse, then,” I said. I decided to go with it. If it was a joke, I might as well make a fool of myself—it certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

“So they made this gate thing,” Mac said. “That way people weren’t stuck here. If they decided they didn’t like it they could leave. As far as I know it was never used. Eventually only the council bothered to remember where it was.”

Mac was quiet then, giving me a chance to think. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to accept the idea that I’d been lifted into another reality. I couldn’t imagine something like that happening in real life. Through the daze it took me several minutes to find the obvious problem with the idea. “So if this barrier doesn’t let anything through, how did I get here?”

“It was probably due to the annexing.” My face must have been as blank as my mind. After looking at me for a minute, Mac explained. “When we need more space for anything we can annex some of the surrounding area. It’s kind of kinky. It allows for any buildings or roads, things like that. The annexing duplicates the area the way it would be if those things weren’t there. Confusing enough for you?” Mac asked.

I stifled a laugh. Kinky? Seriously, this guy needed a lesson in word connotations.

“I’m having a hard time believing that it works, but I guess it makes sense in an odd way,” I said. And it did, as long as I remembered to pretend it wasn’t real.

“Right, but here comes the kinky part.”

“Because everything up until now has been so normal,” I muttered. Maybe I was still asleep and this was all just a crazy dream.

“Since we get the land the way it was before any people were there we don’t bring through, say, your cabin, but biological matter is different. The machine is able to reject one form of DNA while letting everything else through. Obviously, the founders chose human DNA to be rejected—the land needs the insects and animals, and the founders wanted to avoid annexing people.”

“I think your machine is broken,” I said.

“Either that or someone’s messed with it,” Mac agreed.

“Is that likely?”

“Not really. There are only a handful of people with access to it and we all understand that if we mess with it we don’t know enough to fix it.”

“So you could bring someone else here the next time you use it?” I asked.

“If it’s due to a glitch it would be a risk every time. If it’s sabotage and we can’t figure out how to fix it there would be the risk, too. We may not be able to use it again.”

“If the cabin couldn’t come through even though I did, did it just disappear?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I believe that’s how it would work, but since you’re the only person who’s ever come through that way and you were asleep we may never know. Why?”

“If my bed disappeared, I would have dropped to the ground, right? I must have landed on a sharp rock. I think I’ve already got a bruise.” I pulled the waistband of my pajamas back to reveal a fist-sized purple splotch on my hip. I ran my finger over it—it looked real enough, and it felt puffy and tender.

Even though Mac laughed, it was clear he was uncomfortable. His eyes jumped around, looking anywhere but at my hip. I almost laughed. I wasn’t used to being around guys who looked away when a girl flashed some skin.

“Don’t laugh at me. I’ll give you a bruise of your own,” I said, hoping the playfulness would help put Mac at ease.

“Oh, I’m terrified now,” he scoffed, heading back to the path.

We teased back and forth all the way to the city.

I’d heard people say they’d hit it off with someone right away, but I’d always thought they were making it up. How could you be friends with someone you didn’t know anything about? Then again, I’d never had many friends. My bluntness had a way of putting people off, so I was surprised to realize I already considered Mac a friend. Maybe it was his non-stop chatter that made me so comfortable.

The city wasn’t at all what I expected. It looked like a cross between an alpine village and a town out of the old west. The roads were narrow and paved in cobblestones—something I’d never actually seen in person. They were a little uneven, catching at my toes and making me feel unsteady. Buildings crouched together on the edge of the roads, sharing walls, their wooden slats stained or whitewashed. Most of the windows were adorned with shutters and elaborately carved flowerboxes. Some of the buildings had balconies on the second floor—the top floor. None of the buildings were more than two stories tall.

The farther into the maze of streets we went, the busier things got. More and more of the buildings had shops on the street level. Mac told me a few of the shops took up both floors, but most of them had people—the owners or someone the owner knew—living upstairs.

We passed drug stores with the feel of old apothecary shops, bakeries with delicious-looking breads and pastries in the picture windows. The smell of baking bread wafted through the air, making my stomach growl. Displays in clothing boutiques drew my eyes. I was shocked to realize that I recognized nearly every label—how did they get here? Had they been “annexed,” too?

I was getting used to the cramped streets—most of them couldn’t have been more than six or eight feet wide—so I was surprised when they gave way to a huge cobbled square. There was a park on one side where harassed-looking mothers tried to keep track of their kids. Two sides had shops and restaurants between the roads leading out of the square. Nearly half the open area was devoted to a combination of farmer’s market, bazaar and street vendors.

Mac directed me to the fourth side of the square where a large stone building with ornate carvings around the doors and windows dominated the view. It was easily the largest building around. Like the other buildings, it was only two stories high, but it had a large dome in the center that, at three or four stories, seemed to tower over everything else.

As Mac led me toward the wide staircase that rose gracefully to the entrance, an unnatural hush fanned across the square as everyone turned to watch us.

“I wish they’d stop staring at me,” I said, self-conscious as I stumbled up the first couple of steps.

“They just want to be the ones to begin the gossip about you. No one’s ever joined us before. It’s nice to get some new blood.”

Suddenly I wished I’d been able to at least comb my hair. “Great. So they’re all going to be talking about how I’m wandering around barefoot in my pajamas. Oh well, I’m not staying so I guess it doesn’t matter if they think I’m crazy.” Even to my own ears I sounded false.

The grin dropped off Mac’s face. “But Narissa, you can’t leave.”

“Excuse me? You can’t make me stay. I don’t belong here.”

“It’s not a matter of anyone making you stay.”

“What are you talking about? I thought you were bringing me to see these people so they could send me home.” Nothing like this city existed in my world; it was way too elaborate to be a hoax, and my dreams could never be this detailed. It was real. And, now that I believed it, Mac was saying I couldn’t go home? My brain refused to accept that.

“I thought you understood,” he said miserably. “I’d better let the council explain. I’m sorry, Narissa, but you’re not going back.” With a sigh he turned and continued up the steps.