The trip to Milwaukee was lame and uneventful. We had stopped for a cheeseburger along the way at a diner. I tried not to stare at the waitresses with their ugly, pink uniforms and heavy makeup, but I really couldn’t help myself. The food was decent, though, a lot better than what I was used to eating. William had a thing for eating “all organic, all the time.” I used to joke around with him that the only way to go “all organic” was to raise the chickens, slaughter them, clean them, and then grill them.

I don’t think the joke is very funny anymore–because William probably would have enjoyed slaughtering innocent creatures.

“We’re here,” Michaelsen announced as we pulled up in front of a white police station. “Now, a word to the wise. Make sure you answer all the Captain’s questions. She’s the one that’s going to decide what’s going to happen to you next.”

I didn’t like the sound of anyone deciding what was going to happen to me, not after what William put me through. “I’m sorry, could you please repeat that? I’ve already had my fill of people telling me what to do today.”

Hansen shoots me a look. “I understand that what you’re going through is pretty extreme, Sophie, but you’re going to have to trust us on this one. It’s important.” Without skipping a beat, she unclasps a beautiful, gold star from her neck and hands it to me. “I’d like you to wear this.”

“What is it?” I ask, admiring the necklace for its inherent, metallic beauty.

“It’s an antique,” Hansen assures me. “Consider it a gift from a friend.”

A few minutes later Hansen, Michaelsen and I walk into the police station; they tell the officer sitting at the front desk where we’re going and march me into a small, plain room. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that they’re putting me in a jail cell. Hansen uncuffs me and puts a finger to her lips, reminding me that it’s probably a smart idea for me to remain quiet.

“We’ll just be outside the door, okay?” she says, trying to be friendly. “If you get scared, remember what I told you.”

Lending me her gold necklace was the kindest thing anyone had ever done for me and it was something for me to hang onto. Hopefully, the Captain will be as nice as the two officers, because I’m not sure how I’d react if she was cruel.

Minutes pass, and still no Captain. I wish I could allow myself to worry about where I’ll end up next, but right now the only thing I care about is proving my sanity to this stranger. There is no way I’m going to end up in The Stay. Not again. To take my mind off of my future, I start counting how many times I see a red light blinking on and off in the corner of the room.

Sixty-eight, sixty-nine, seventy, seventy-one…

THUNK!

Thunk drops out of my pocket onto the floor, stretching into an enormous pile of goo.

“Get back here,” I whisper, worried that the Captain will walk in on me while I’m talking to him. How do I explain that? How do I express everything else I’ve been through?

“Shhh…Thunk! Crawl back in my pocket! Please? I try pleading with him, but Thunk isn’t listening to me. His attention is captivated by the red, blinking light; Thunk expands and contracts in perfect timing with its rhythm. Great. Apparently Thunk is bored, too.

Knock, knock.

Ever have one of those panic-filled moments where you want to run as far and as fast as you can? If you have, then you know exactly how I feel.

The door opens and a petite woman walks in. I can’t help but notice how beautiful she is; I feel very chunky and very plain by comparison. Her coloring is pretty exotic, like the color of chocolate caramels. She must be pretty short, because she’s wearing the tallest high heels I’ve ever seen.

“You like my shoes, Serafina?” the woman asks me. I’m about to correct her, to tell her that my name is “Sophie,” but decide to take Michaelsen’s advice instead.

“I do, but don’t your feet hurt by the end of the day?” I can’t help but wonder why any woman would put themselves through that much pain.

The woman laughs and closes the door behind her. Then, she does the weirdest thing. She points her finger at the red, blinking light and it disappears in a puff of smoke. Mumbling a few, choice words that sound like music, a ring of smoke that smells a bit like dried blood–is it iron?–surrounds both of us.

“That’s better,” she admits to me. “Now no one will be watching or listening to us.”

All of this should freak me out and I probably should be running. ‘Course, I “should” a lot of things like I “should” be grateful that the handcuffs are off of me and I’m alive after what William did. I “should” be pounding the Captain with a ton of questions trying to figure out where I’ll work and live from here on out and what they’re doing to punish my now former fiance–but I don’t. The smell of the smoke seems both oddly familiar and comforting to me. It’s as if…

“You are part of my past?” I ask the woman, whose languid, green eyes are now filling with tears.

“Yes,” she whispers, as if that one word is the most important thing she’s said to anyone all day. “I am your grandmother.”

That can’t be. Grandmothers are supposed to be old and frail with warm smiles and smell of chocolate chip cookies. Not…like her. She must be sensing my confusion; whoever the woman was, she doesn’t hide her emotions very well and she looks like she’s in a lot of pain.

“Serafina…” she starts, as if she’s about to tell me something important and precious. Something I should remember.

THUNK!

Thunk bounces high between the two of us to make his presence known. I can’t help but laugh at him. He’s a little like that old cat, Archimedes. Doesn’t want you to pay attention to him on your terms–but you had better look at him when he wants you to.

“Where did you get that?” my grandmother asks, her face paling a bit. “Do you know what that is?”

Screw Michaelsen’s advice. I’m getting tired of getting the run around. All these strange things have to have a logical explanation because if they don’t–I’m beginning to think I should check myself into my old hospital. “Look, if I call you Grandmother and play along, will you please tell me what is going on?”

The woman who is supposedly my grandmother nods her head excitedly. “Yes, but we don’t have much time, but you have to promise me that after we’re done–no matter what happens–you will go with Michaelsen and Hansen to the zoo.”

“The zoo? But…” I have no words to say to her. Maybe I should be locked up. The minute those doubts enter my mind my grandmother grabs my arms, shaking me violently.

“Listen to me! A human hospital will not help you, Serafina,” she scolds me, as if she can read my thoughts. “Please listen!”

I nod weakly, and she releases me. A part of me wants to believe that I’m who she thinks I am, but another part of me–the sane part I tell myself–wants her to go away. “Okay, shoot,” I tell her, anxious to just get all of this out into the open.

“Your real name is Serafina Mylnar and, up until about six years ago when you disappeared, you were living with me,” she recants, her voice steady and careful. “You were the member of a magical community full of wondrous things.”

Dong.

I can hear a bell, tolling in the distance. Grandmother hears it, too, and blows on the smoke surrounding us, making it thicker, less penetrable.

“I believe you, grandmother.” I don’t know why, but I encourage her to go on, to finish her story. After all, I have nothing else to lose because I’ve already lost everything.

“You did a very, bad thing, Serafina,” she whispers. “Unforgivable.”

Some of the pieces of the puzzle are starting to make sense. “So I was exiled? Punished?”

Grandmother nods, but I can’t tell if she’s relieved or horrified that I figured out what was going on.

“And William was my jailer?” I offer, believing I have everything I need to make sense of it all: the magic, my amnesia, waking up in the middle of an empty room. It was all normal.

“What you did was unforgivable, Serafina. What William did was…unnatural,” her gaze wanders toward Thunk.

“Thunk? But he…”

“He is an abomination, granddaughter, a by-product. He–” Suddenly my grandmother stops talking, scoops Thunk up in her hands, and puts her ear in the smoke.

Dong, dong, dong.

“The Seal has been broken, granddaughter,” she says as she puts Thunk back into my shirt pocket. “My time is up.”

As she spoke the smoke began to dissipate, but just when I thought the room was going to turn back to normal, a brilliant, warm light shines in the corner of the room, bathing everything in it to gold.

“Quickly, child, for I only have moments to answer one more question.” Her voice sounds earnest and apologetic.

I want to know everything–who my parents were, where I lived, what I had done, what my powers were–but the only thing I can think about is that stupid, set of silver glyphs on the floor where I woke up in Indiana.

“Do you know anything about a set of silver symbols inscribed in a circle?” I ask her, fully aware that the golden light was growing brighter by the second.

“Is that your wish?” she asks me, wary of the light moving toward her.

Maybe I shouldn’t but I humor her anyway, wondering why she won’t move and what will happen when the light envelops her. “I wish to know why William drew silver, glowing symbols on the floor where I woke up.”

The warm rays of light now directly over my grandmother’s head, she looks as if she’s bathed completely in gold. As the light continued to intensify, I could see her skin start to crackle and burn in its heat.

“What the–” I exclaim, covering my eyes. “Grandmother?”

The light is too bright for me to see, but I can smell burning flesh. I try to feel my way to the door behind me, when right then and there I am immobilized. The necklace around my throat feels a bit warm to the touch, but I am otherwise unharmed.

Dong!

As the bell peals, the light retracts, leaving a small pile of ash at the center of the room. I pound on the door behind me, trying to attract somebody’s attention. Michaelsen barges in the room, looks at the pile of ash and turns to me, his face red with anger. I can’t help myself–I start to cry.

“Shut up,” Michaelsen orders me. “Just shut up and come with me.”

“Where’s Hansen?” I ask him, hoping that she’ll be a bit more understanding than him.

“She’s gone,” Michaelsen barks, eying the gold necklace on my throat. “You’ll never see her again. You don’t deserve her.”

“Can’t you be a little nicer to me? My grandmother just died, you know.”

Michaelsen pushes me out into the hallway, flips me around and cuffs me. “I have one more thing to do, then I’m out,” he tells me. “So listen up, kid. She’s not dead.”

“Not dead? But–” my voice breaks off as I suddenly realize what he meant by that. “She’s immortal.”

“Yes, but she can be punished and still has to adhere to the Law.”

“What Law?”

Michaelsen ignores my question and escorts me out of the building back into the squad car. Opening the door, he gestures that I should get inside.

“Why should I listen to you?” I ask him, frustrated that my grandmother had to pay such a hefty price to tell me what was going on. “Are you taking me to prison?”

“No, unfortunately,” Michaelsen shakes his head. I can’t help but wonder how he came to be a part of the magical community, he seems like such an ordinary guy. Was he born into it like I supposedly was? “Your grandmother asked me to take you to the zoo. After that? You’re on your own.”

I guess my grandmother must mean a lot to this guy. To him, I was a criminal who was supposed to remain punished and my family–the only one I know I have–risks life and limb to tell me the truth. Some granddaughter I am.

Once I get in the squad car, I try to be as quiet as I possibly can. Michaelsen must have noticed what I was doing, because he kept switching his gaze from looking at me in the rearview mirror and keeping his eyes on the road while he was driving.

“You know, Serafina, whoever drew that set of glyphs where we found you is probably still after you,” he said with a touch of concern.

“My name is Sophie, Officer Michaelsen. I appreciate you looking out for me, but if what my grandmother said is true–maybe I deserve it.” It felt good to be honest, as if telling the truth was the start of my absolution.

I could hear Michaelsen sighing, but unless he was going to help me, his struggle with his conscience wasn’t going to do me any good.

“We’re here,” he says as he stops the car in front of a tall, iron gate. Letting me out, he unlocks the cuffs and looks me straight in the eye. “I’m not sure what to make of you, Sophie, but there are things in this place that are older than human history. They deserve your respect.”

“Guess I’ll have to remember that, thanks.” I feel like I should say something more to him, to thank him and Hansen for rescuing me or to offer my condolences on the temporary? disappearance of my grandmother–but the words just won’t come. I keep getting stuck on the idea that I’m some kind of prisoner and my apology means nothing until my debt is paid. I guess the only way to know that is to find out what I’ve done.

As I step into the entrance for the Milwaukee Zoo, I still wonder what’s next for me. Hard to feel guilty when you don’t know what you did. Thunk stretches up out of my pocket to take a look around and must not have liked what he saw; he scurries back down with a tiny *thunk.*

“That’s all right, buddy,” I reassure him. “I may not know what you are or where you came from, but you’ll be safe with me.”

After all, he’s the only friend I’ve got.

Please continue reading here to Chapter Three: The Third Piece