I run outside, jump from the top of my stoop to the sidewalk, and fall to my knees. Blind panic brings me to my feet and starts them moving. I have nowhere to go.

Oberon bolts in front of me, and I follow. He's fast, but I manage to keep pace while we weave our way down multiple side streets until I'm completely lost. I run until my legs fail, sending my body tumbling through a narrow, garbage-filled alley. The fire in my lungs distracts me from the filth I'm lying in as I gasp for air.

The need to vomit jolts me back to my feet. I barely make it to the side of the dumpster when my stomach violently empties. Never in my life have I exercised like this. My heart might explode. I sit back down on the grungy alley pavement, and Oberon rubs himself against my shins, purring loudly. He probably thinks I'm dying. He's probably right.

When my breathing returns to normal and I'm relatively confident that I'll live, my brain flashes back to my real problem. "What am I going to do, Oberon? Why am I following a cat? I don't know where to go. I can't report this to anybody. I have no friends and nowhere to run. Tell me what to do."

Oberon stares at me for a moment, then holds his head up and opens his mouth to speak. "Murr, murr, mow," he says with confidence.

I roll my eyes. "Great. Bugs can talk, but cats can't."

Tears fall in abundance down my cheeks. I can't remember the last time I cried. "I'm scared, and alone, and have no idea what to do next."

Oberon continues to rub his body against mine, almost as if he's petting me, but in spite of his solace, I sob for a long time.

The little tabby offers quite a bit of comfort, and my crying fit abruptly ends. It's getting dark, and I'm afraid I may have to spend the night in the alley.

"Maybe we should head back, Oberon. I'll tell them what I saw," I say, not liking that idea but not having many options. I can't even think about what happened in the apartment without my chest seizing. I should do nothing and just sit here with my cat. "I don't like that plan either."

The sun sets, and I'm glad that it never gets too dark in the city. I almost convince myself to relax when a long shadow creeps down the alley. I look for the source but there isn't one. No one is coming. When it reaches my feet, the black monster from the apartment oozes up from the ground.

"Agatha Stone," it says in a deep gravelly voice.

That's the second time this thing has said my name, only now I'm not scared. And because I'm not scared, I'm worried. I'm not a brave person. This monster should be terrifying me out of my mind, but instead, I'm overcome with relief. I'm less afraid of this monster than of being alone in the alley.

"You must come with me. Quickly."

"Why?" I ask with astonishing composure. I'm grateful to have a place to go and thankful someone else is making the plans. I've never been in charge before, and I don't want to start with life-changing decisions.

"You are not safe here. It's essential that we leave."

"Leave? Where?"

"Come, and I'll show you."

Oberon leaps from my lap and runs to the monster, rubbing against the bottom of his robe. He reaches down, strokes the little cat's head, and makes meowing noises. Oberon meows back.

His suggestion doesn't alarm me, which is odd because I know that I shouldn't go anywhere with strangers, especially if they're real live monsters.

"I'm not going anywhere with you. What are you?"

"I'll explain everything. We'll not go far, just out of the alley and away from—them."

"Who's them? You came into my room last night, and today my whole world falls apart!" I shout, trying to sound brave, but the tears have already started.

"Agatha, I can explain everything, but your hiding place is not a good one." He sounds worried. "Come with me. I'll get you some food and expound on what transpired this evening."

I can't go home; just the thought of facing Auntie and her weird friend makes my fingers cold. This creature is my only solution. He did defend me against Duradin, and if he found me, the others will too.

"Okay, I'll go. But not far."

Once he has my consent, he leads Oberon and me down into the subway. While we're waiting on the platform, I have time to think. I agreed to go because I couldn't come up with a better plan. However, leaving with my new friend might've been a bad idea.

"You could at least tell me your name," I say to stop my brain from continuing down this line of thought.

"Jonah. Don't talk to me here. Humans can't see me. You'll draw attention to yourself."

"I'm human." The way he said humans makes it sound as if I'm not one, which is just rude. But if humans can't see him and I can, then that means—"Right?"

"You're human. Now stop talking."

"But I see you."

"Stop talking."

We stand by the yellow line waiting for the subway. The station is busy, but no one notices the seven-foot Jonah next to me. I'm beginning to wonder if he's real.

It's crowded inside the train and although people can't see Jonah, they've made room for him. In fact, I'm jammed against two women, yet there's space all around him as if the passengers know something is there and don't want to touch it. Even when the movement of the car jostles them in his direction, they maneuver to avoid him.

"This is our stop," he says loudly.

I look around to see if anyone heard, but no one cares. He grabs my arm and shuffles me toward the door. It's amazing watching New Yorkers wordlessly shift aside for him as we make it to the door in record time.

"Get ready to jump."

"Jump?" I yell, and although their heads never turn, many an angry eye shifts my way. Not only are the doors shut, but the train is racing down the track. How does he expect me to jump?

"Shhh! Now go." He places a hand on my back.

I try to brace myself for the impact with the door when he pushes me, but it's gone. I fall through the air for less than a second and hit the dirt with a grunt. Lying in the muck as subway wheels pass close to my face, I'm amazed I'm uninjured. It wasn't a bad fall. Had I known what to expect, it wouldn't have been an issue to stay on my feet. It was like jumping down from a high step.

"Where'd the doors go?" I ask, brushing myself off.

"The portal makes the physics weak here. The humans built the track just on the edge of the bubble. When the trains pass, the entire wall of the car is compromised, but I thought the doorway would be easier for you."

I have no idea what he just said, so I ask another question hoping for a better answer. "I can't talk to you, but I can jump from a moving train?"

"The humans will believe they imagined you or that you moved to another part of the train. If they can't explain what they see, then to them, it didn't happen."

"I am human, right? I can see you, jump from moving trains and go through walls..." It sounds crazier when I say it out loud.

He starts down the track, and I have to jog to keep up with him. "Yes, you're human. I'll explain everything in a moment. Just a little further."

We're deep in the subway tunnel. It's dark, dirty, and smelly, and everything has a damp yuckiness to it. We go only a short distance when Jonah stops at an old wooden door barely visible under the grime. He knocks, and an eye peers at us through the peephole. The hole closes, but the door opens with an unnerving creak.

"Come in. Come in," a gnarled old man prattles as he shuffles to the side, making room for us to pass.

"Finnegan's my name. Haven't had a Knight Crawler here in some time. What brings you to this side? And who's this?" He seems thrilled by our company.

My confused gaze scans the area as I cautiously enter the small kitchen. It's a cottage, with wood floors and petite furniture. It's dim because there are no windows, but it's clean and, oddly enough, it has a certain charm about it that's warm and welcoming.

I stare at the herbs hanging from the ceiling. "Is he human?" I whisper to Jonah.

"Yes," he whispers back.

"Let me get you some tea," the old man chatters, opening the icebox to pull out a tray. "I just made some cookies. Are you hungry? I might have a few bananas."

"Yes, please," Jonah says. "This is Oberon Thunderclaws and Agatha."

Finnegan stops so abruptly I'm afraid he might fall over. He whips his head around, and in one rather agile hop, we're nose to nose. He's staring at me as if his mouth and eyes are competing to see which can get wider. "Agatha Stone?" he whispers.

A shiver runs up my body. The kids I've gone to school with my entire life don't know my name, but now people and things I've never met know it. Jonah's not giving any indication of what I should do, so I nod.

The feeble old man's face lights up as he loudly claps his hands together. "Agatha Stone!" He grabs my hand and shakes it vigorously. "Agatha Stone, you're alive! Well, that explains everything. Come in, come in. This is cause for celebration!"

"No!" Jonah shouts, startling both Finnegan and me. "No celebration. She's had a difficult time. I need a place to speak with her, and she needs to eat."

"Oh, of course. How rude of me. This is so exciting. Agatha Stone in my humble home," he whispers, and then claps again and exclaims, "Agatha Stone!"

He attempts a few weak coughs to cover his excitement but fools no one. Then he gently grabs my elbow in order to steer me across the kitchen and through the door to another room.

"Here, come here. In here. You can sit and talk for as long as you need. I'll get you some food." He tries to keep his tone serious, but by the third here, the big grin is back as his voice rises with each syllable.

The three of us are ushered into a modest room that appears to be Finnegan's office. There's a table and chairs piled high with papers and books, and a small sofa in front of the fire. The place should be damp and eerie, but it's not, especially with the bookshelves and glowing coals in the fireplace. Oberon makes himself comfortable near the hearth while I flop down in the closest chair and watch Jonah clear the table in front of me.

"Are you the Grim Reaper?" As soon as the words leave my mouth, my face burns because I didn't mean to ask that out loud.

Jonah's eyes widen for a moment, and then he chuckles. He sits in the chair across from me and rests his elbows on the table. "Humans ask me that a lot."

"I thought humans couldn't see you."

"Sometimes, some can." He's got that look adults get when they figure you're too stupid to understand what they're about to say. "Let me explain in a way that might make more sense rather than you asking me random questions."

He's looking at me as if he's expecting me to do something. We gawk at each other for an uncomfortable moment, and then he shrugs. "I'm a Knight Crawler. We are guardians. I'm your guardian. I'm not Death or the Reaper. However, most humans use my image to depict death. Does that scare you?"

My first reaction is no. His presence is just too soothing for him to be the eerie specter of death. It's odd because when I look at him, my brain says monster, but my impression of him is all warmth and caring.

"No. I didn't think you were. But if humans can't see you, how can they use your image?"

"Well," he sighs. "There was a time when humans and my kind peacefully coexisted. People like you can see me all the time, but most are blind to me now. Some can feel my presence, especially children, but it usually frightens them. However, many times when an individual is near death, their vision clears, and they can see us. Often when a person is alone and dying, a Knight Crawler will sense that and sit with them. It goes against our breeding to let a being die alone. Mine used to be a comforting image, but people have changed it over the years."

I'm so riveted by what he's telling me that when Finnegan knocks on the door, I jump and slam my fist on the table.

"Here you go," the old man jabbers as he sets a bowl in front of me. "I heated up some stew and bread. That should warm you up nicely."

He places a sad-looking plate in front of Jonah. "I have some tomatoes and a banana for you. Sorry. I wasn't expecting company. I don't have much...unless you want a salad or a potato?"

"Thank you, Finnegan. This will be fine."

"For Master Thunderclaws—tuna," Finnegan announces with a flourish, and Oberon jumps up, mewing his appreciation.

"If you need anything else, just holler," he says before closing the door behind him.

I dig into the stew with gusto and don't stop until I can't scrape any more off the sides of the bowl. As I stuff the bread into my mouth, I watch Jonah eat the entire banana in three bites, skin and all. When he talks, his mouth is hard to see, but when he eats he looks like one of Auntie's yawning cats.

"You're a vegetarian?" I ask it as a question, but it's more of a statement. I'm proud of myself for figuring it out.

"Not quite. My kind only eats fruit, but we'll eat a vegetable if we're desperate."

With his answer, I'm out of conversation, so I sit and wait for him to speak. When he finishes his paltry meal, he pushes his hood back, exposing more of his face. I lose all pretense of manners as I gawk openly, studying everything about him.

His skin is as black as his robe. Most of his face is comprised of two enormous red eyes that are surprisingly expressive. There's no white to them, but they're kind eyes, like those of a horse, only larger and much more angular. They take up a sizable portion of his face, and are changing shape as he thinks of something to say, discards the thought, and considers something else.

"What's with the marble and the weird guy who attacked me?" I ask, giving up hope that he'll just explain what's going on.

"You have the Orb, yes?"

"Yeah, in my pocket. Why's it such a big deal? Who was that lawyer guy?"

"Grand Wizard Duradin."

"Wizard? Like, a wizard? Like a magic and potions wizard? Or like the Hey, this is a fun title. I'll call myself a wizard kind of wizard?"

Jonah's eyes slant as he processes my question, "The first kind. Although magic in the way you understand it doesn't work on Earth."

"Umm, he made an army appear."

Jonah laughs. I'm not being funny. "Not an army. A few soldiers. They didn't materialize from thin air. It's a cloak. I could show you how to do that."

"Why did he attack me?"

"Because he doesn't know any other way."

That's not helpful. I expected a better answer.

"Grand Wizard Duradin works for another man. I'll tell you about him in a minute. That marble is an Orb."

He stops, and his eyes get slanty again. "It's like the subway doors. I can explain things to you, but until you have the whole story, you won't understand. It would make more sense if I just start at the beginning."

How is any of this going to make sense? I think back to yesterday when I was just a girl from Queens, hating school and painting my bedroom. How did I end up talking to the Grim Reaper about wizards?

"You should tell me what you need to tell me in the way you want to tell it to me," I say.

He takes a deep breath. "Honestly, I don't know where to start. You should've been raised with this information, so it's difficult to give it to you all at once." He stops and lowers his eyes. After a brief moment, he looks up again, somewhat less defeated. "Okay, well...there are two populated worlds. One you know about. You call it Earth, and the other is Ashra."

I take it back. Maybe I shouldn't know. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Oberon is named after the King of the fairies in William Shakespeare's play A Midsummer Night's Dream. I thought it was appropriate for reasons I cannot disclose at this time. And Thunderclaws because why not? He's modeled after my childhood cat, Kitty-Kitty. I've gotten better at naming things, which is a good thing because I had to invent several languages for this series.

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