“We knew of a Moirai in Ardmore with great power, seer,” Shark said as he picked his way through the abandoned cars. “When Adelia knocked, we knew it was her. Born of royalty, so the rumors go.”

Adelia swayed in Jeremy’s arms as he walked, head against his chest. She tried to open her eyes but couldn’t. Shark’s voice sounded far away. Had she talked to Jeremy and the others a moment ago? She couldn’t remember. Her strength would return if she could sink into the gold and rest. But when she tried, it wouldn’t respond; it didn’t feel right. Panic gripped her for a split second, and then she remembered the damage. She had to unbind now; there was no choice. Get the last piece and return to her sanctuary. Unbind and come back and face Crag with her full might.

What would her old Sanctuary be like? The Church of St. Frances, the keepers of Judith’s Bridge. No, that wasn’t right; now it was Charles Bridge. How many years had she lived in that place? How much had she forgotten? Her memory was never what it should have been, not for a Moirai. And now it had been, what, a hundred years since she’d seen the place? What would the surrounding city be like?

A scene of the church filled her mind’s eye before blurring into a hospital. The original structure was older, more primitive. Figures from the Bohemian order, Knights of the Cross with the Red Star, flashed before her. They were the creators of the original, the one that stood there for years before the church was built. Judith’s bridge. How many years ago? Ancient, she knew, yet her memories were out of focus. Had she been around then? In a time before the beautiful frescos in high domed ceilings. What were those early days like? She reached for memories, sensing even more beyond, but the color drained from them, the vibrancy lost, and the vision shifted back to the Church of St. Francis. Her home. Why couldn’t she remember? So much had happened before the church, something abandoned; that’s how they were born. Moirai usually carried great detail from their lives and those of the humans they spawned from, but her distant past was fragmented, pieces and glimpses of a past she could never hold for long.

“When you were born after me, from the vast human experience of the Knights, your great strength overtook everything, my dear.” Nickolaus’s rumbling tone echoed in her mind. Lord of her Sanctuary, leader of the Moirai Knights of the Cross with the Red Star. He kept them formed after the humans that spawned them. A group older than the church. “You are born from great suffering, so be grateful that the fates spared your memories.” She could almost hear his voice now, closer in real-time. Looking down, she found the Church as she remembered, but it was surrounded by modern lights, cars, buildings, and roads.

“She is revealed, Lord.” Nickolaus and another figure stood on the stone wall in the moonlight, looking out across the river. A gothic castle loomed across the water, its black surface casting a shadowy reflection on the flowing water. The modern roads and scattered car headlights of the city made her cringe. At the turn of the 20th century, it had been cobblestone and horse-drawn wagons. And Logan, visiting the church, praying for his people, his face still fresh in her mind, a memory no amount of years would erase. But this was not a scene from 1914; this was something different, not a memory, but something happening now.

“How?” Nickolaus asked. He tilted his head toward the other Moirai, away from the beautiful castle across the water. He wore an ancient hooded cloak and sword at his side, an ancient artifact of incredible power. She had often wondered how many humans it had killed in its long life.

“It seems a new Moirai is conquering Sanctuaries one by one across the ocean. We’re not sure why we can scry her now.” The smaller figure shifted a silver ax strapped to its cloaked back. He was the size of a human but dwarfed by Nickolaus’s mass. Despite his size and menacing look, Nick was a gentle giant. He lived for the Folk in his Sanctuary and even the humans who now occupied the upper levels. They were oblivious to the catacombs below where the Folk had taken up residence. The Moirai, her Folk, had been born from the older site, the hospital when it was briefly abandoned, and the Knights of the Cross with a Red Star. She knew where she came from, even if she couldn’t remember much about it.

“Where?” Nickolaus asked.

“America,” the smaller Folk said.

“Still bound to the gold?”

“As far as we can tell, but something is wrong. The gold is losing power, perhaps that’s why her glamor wore off, or she is away from whatever shelter she has been hiding in.” Adelia thought of rocks grinding together when she heard the smaller figure’s words. It was Otto then, one of Nick’s captains.

“Bring her home,” Nick said.

“The conqueror is pursuing her lord. The Moirai seems to be young, but his power grows as he takes more Sanctuaries,” Otto said.

“Take Ulrich then. We must return here,” Nick said. Adelia knew Urlich well. He was the mightiest of Nick’s followers and the protector of her Folk. Why would Nick send two of his most important followers just for her? Even if she was the second born behind Nick, she didn’t think she was that important, especially not after more than a hundred years. She’d never taken an active role in the Knights or led her Folk. Her years spent at the Church were filled with loneliness until Logan came along.

“But this new threat, he—”

“If he stands in your way, destroy him.”

“Lord—”

“Surely, none can stand against you. Do not seek conflict but fetch her no matter the cost. Our Sanctuary is not safe. You know what is at stake.”

Otto’s shoulders tightened. “It will be done.” He turned with a flurry of his cloak and strode off.

What could possibly be at stake? The gold was a powerful artifact, but she didn’t think it was worth one hundred years of searching. And he would undoubtedly be furious with her for leaving, but why send his best warriors after all this time? It didn’t make sense and didn’t matter, anyway; she would show him her will, bound to damaged gold or not. No one would keep her locked up inside a Sanctuary or control her, not ever again, not even Nickolaus with his good intentions.

He suddenly spun on his armored heel and looked up, right at her, or where she imagined she was watching him from. His eyes widened in surprise before narrowing in anger. He seemed to snarl and say something in her direction, but she couldn’t make it out or understand why he was suddenly angry. It was frightening. She had never seen him that way, and it sent a chill through her. He was never warm, exactly, but he was always caring and kind. Why would he be so furious with her just for leaving? Or did he not know it was her? Maybe he suspected someone else of spying on their conversation. Perhaps they were at war with another Sanctuary and that was why the stakes were high. But still, why would they need her so badly? She was strong, but most of the Moirai in the Knights of the Cross with the Red Star were strong.

“Come back to us,” a tiny voice whispered in her ear.

Nick’s scowling face disappeared along with the stone wall and river behind him.

“What did you see?” another tiny voice rasped in the falling darkness.

She felt the stroke of a small hand across her forehead and blinked her eyes open. Nod was sitting beside her, and two tiny winged Folk perched on either side of her head. Despair, midnight black with her red-lined dragonfly wings, and Hope, stark white with her blue-lined dragonfly wings. They were so close, Adelia could make out the texture of their skin and see slight gray color variations in their liquid black eyes.

“A dream,” Adelia said.

They were in some kind of garage or shed, dark, with beams of light streaming through a thick canvas that appeared to serve as a door. She smelled burned oil and could see the outline of an ancient truck.

“Are we in a garage?” she asked.

A head glided up from the truck bed.

“No, no, you’re in my home, lady. It is daylight, so we rest, but night is coming soon.”

“Where are Jeremy and my Folk?”

“Safe and sound with Shark,” the small figure said.

“Jeremy will be here soon,” Hope said. She flapped her wings and glided up between Adelia’s breasts, looking her in the eye. Despair hopped down off her shoulder and paced back and forth on the mattress beside her, and Nod slipped his small green hand inside hers.

“Everyone is safe?”

“For now,” said Despair. “But who knows what will happen.”

“Stop it, Des,” Hope said. “We are fine, thanks to you and Jeremy.”

“Des is right,” Adelia said. “We might be in trouble.”

“I knew it. I told you it was more than a dream. She was gone,” Des said.

Hope stuck her small, dark tongue out at her.

“What did you see?” Des asked.

She was about to answer, but the canvas moved aside. Through a blinding burst of light, she saw Jeremy and Sinta step into the room.

“What did you see where?” Jeremy asked.

Sinta knelt beside her and put her hand to her cheek, then her throat.

“I dreamed,” she said.

“Except it wasn’t a dream,” Des said.

“She’s better but still weak. It’s probably the damaged gold.” Sinta said. “But I can’t see the threads of power. Jeremy?”

“I don’t see anything, I told you. I’ve never seen the connection between her and the bag. It’s not like Crag and his demons. What wasn’t a dream?”

“She traveled without her body,” Hope said, looking at Adelia curiously. “I’ve never seen it before, but her visions were dancing in the air for us. A great castle across the water and warrior Folk standing on a stone wall, they—”

“I was home,” Adelia said, keeping her gaze fixed on Jeremy.

“Like a knock? You left?”

“No, just a vision, and we’re not sure it was real.”

“It was real,” said Des. “She is so much more than we perceive seer, she—”

“Prague, I saw the castle across the river, and I was at the Church of St. Francis, my Sanctuary, and my lord….” She paused, taking a breath. “I think some Folk are coming for me.”

“What kind of Folk?” Jeremy asked.

“Strong kind,” Adelia said.

“Are they going to hurt you?” Sinta asked.

“I don’t think so, but they’re coming to take me home no matter what I want, and I’m in no condition to resist. Even if I was, I’m still bound, and these Folk are strong.”

“There’s more,” Des said.

Adelia cleared her throat.

“Crag might be coming for us, too.”

“How do you know?” Jeremy asked.

“I’ve been veiled for a hundred years by Kenneth’s Cabin and the power of my gold, but now that it’s damaged, my Folk know where I am. They were talking, and they said Crag was coming for me.”

“We’re your Folk,” Sinta said.

“You’re right,” Adelia said, thoughtfully looking at the small Moirai. “You’re my Folk now. The Knights of the Cross are something else. But they’re coming for me, and we—”

“How valuable is that gold?” Jeremy asked.

“It’s a powerful artifact, but not that valuable. It was one of many in the treasure room below the church. I assumed they gave up on me a long time ago.”

“But maybe the Knights will help us against Crag,” Sinta said.

“They won’t. They’re coming for me. They may fight Crag to get me, but that’s it. And once they take me back to Sanctuary, I won’t be able to unbind and come back to save our Folk from him. They’re too strong. I can’t….”

Silence fell over the room, and Adelia stared out through the canvas flap into the morning light.

Finally, Sinta said, “Pinta is at the bleachers, inspecting the Sanctuary inch by inch. He’s set up Ardmore Folk to keep watch.”

“That’s good,” Adelia said.

“So, what do we do?” Jeremy asked.

“If they take me, you won’t see me again.” As the words came out, she knew it was the truth. Nick always supported her but never let her leave the Sanctuary like the other Folk, and now she wondered why. Something was wrong; something more was at stake; he’d said as much to Otto.

“And if that happens, Crag takes over the world,” Jeremy said.

“And we lose you,” Sinta said, putting her hand on Adelia’s arm.

“So, we get to your old Sanctuary before they can grab you and take you back,” Hope said, kicking off Adelia’s chest to hover in the air between the companions, spinning slowly to look at them all as she spoke. “We make it to the Church of St. Francis, slip in, unbind you, and knock our way back to stop Crag.”

“Is that possible?” Jeremy asked, nodding his head to Adelia. “Can’t we just ask them for help?”

“They won’t help us,” Adelia said. “Nick protects the Folk in his Sanctuary fiercely, but nothing outside of those walls matters to him.” She was already thinking of her old Folk as other, she realized. She did belong with the Folk from Kenneth’s Cabin and Ardmore, and she would fight to protect them no matter what.

Shark slipped through the canvas flap.

“He’s conquering from the south. I’ve talked to Folk in other Sanctuaries this morning, and they tell me he has made his way up from Mexico or South America. Some of them claim he carries the souls of human children and commands jaguars.”

“That would explain some things, maybe,” Sinta said.

“How does that explain anything?” Jeremy asked.

“Down south, he uses jaguars—different religious symbols for different areas. Up here, it’s mostly Christians, so you get demons. If he’s aiming to take over the human world, he has to cater to their fears, not ours.”

“They’re pretty scary for us, too,” Des said, still pacing on the mattress beside Adelia.

“What about the children?” Adelia asked. “Human children?”

“That may just be rumor.” Sinta stood up and crossed the room, “Shark, do you have access to books or the internet?”

“What are you thinking?” Jeremy asked.

“We have some books,” Shark said. “But they’re about racing and cars. Magazines and manuals, mostly,” Shark said.

“I don’t know yet, Jeremy, but I have an idea,” Sinta said. “Shark, please bring me a manual. Any book will do.”