Chapter 1.

"Oh, come on, Heddy!" I give the girl a playful shove. "Just tell me what's the big secret?"

"Well…" Heddy glances up and down the nearly-empty sidewalk, then pulls a rolled-up ?magazine from the inner pocket of her coat. "All right, but not a word to anyone."

"The magazine's tastefully artistic cover read all "Vogue march 1931, Early Paris Collection". "That's it?" I flip through the first few pages. "The big secret? A fashion magazine?"

"Bite your tongue. This is Vogue, and I had to work for it." Heddy lowers her voice to a whisper. "It may have once belong to Mrs. Rosequist, who I may have babysat for last night." she sighs. "Then that brat kid of hers may have caught me stashing it in my bag and made me play five games of checkers with him to keep his traps shut."

I smother a laugh. "Well, aren't you the master thief?" I peer at a full-page spread of the latest evening gowns. "Do women really where the stuff in Europe? So weird."

"Says the girl in the fedora!" Heddy snatches the magazine from my hands. "Who do you think you are, Al Capone?"

"Someone has to set the trends." I tip my hat. "Any day now, Vogue will be trying to get me on the horn, just begging for my fashion advice."

Heddy rolls her eyes and tucks the magazine back into her coat. "Yeah, Yeah. So tell me, snazzy dresser, why is it the only boy you have ever kiss is that midget Billy Stein?"

"You're awful! It's not his fault he's so short of his age. Besides, he's nice."

"Yes, nice." heddy's mischievous smile twist into a dark, menacing grin. "We are who we are, Ruthie."

I frown. What did she mean by that?

In the dim moonlight, I can only make out the most basic lines of Heddy's face. Moonlight? My breath catches in my throat. Night came on so fast. I wasn't in Boston anymore, either, but I do recognise this place. The cobbled street, the rundown buildings. I've managed to wander all the way to the public square in Marooner's point. It shouldn't be possible, but the old brick well in the middle of the square seems solid enough. The drip-drip of water trickling down from the hanging bucket echoes more louder than it should.

"How--" I turn to Heddy, but find no one there. "Heddy?"

"Keep that curiosity of yours in check, Ruth."

I whirl around. Gertrude, the town baker, stands just a few feet away. Her eyes glittering unnaturally in the moonlight.

"What's going on?" my voice sounds more frightened than I meant it to be. "How did I--"

"Stick to mischief and kissing silly boys." Her broad face remains as emotionless as her to tone. "Look not upon foul things, nor gaze into the infinite darkness. Therein will you find only madness."

I furrow my brow. My uncle has been treating me to Gertrude's famous cinnamon rolls every summer since I were a little girl and I've never heard her say anything more than a simple "good morning" or "thank you."

Whispers echo up from the well. Something in the voice strikes me as inhuman. My eyes snap to the well. I expect a pall, dead hand to emerge from the darkness, dragging some abomination behind it. The expectation is so strong that for a moment, I actually do see a hand. I shake my head quickly to break my trance. Once again, I'm alone in the Square.

There's no way I'm sticking my head in that well, but what harm could there be in just trying to have a little conversation?

"What are you?" I ask.

Silence. I open my mouth to call out again, but a cacophony of Voices rises from the well speaking in a language I don't understand.

I clench my fist to stop my hands from shaking. "What do you want?"

"More voices thread themselves into the chaos but one stands out from all the rest. "You… I will wake…Forever… Prophecy…"

"You're a brave one."

Startled, I whirl around. Heddy stands right behind me, her lips curve's in her accustomed smirk. "We choose you well." she touches my arm. A pulse of energy flows into me.

"It's time to wake up now. Be brave, but not reckless." Heddy taps her left temple. "Keep your head."

A piercing shriek startles me awake. The boss has come to a stop. Right, the brakes. Each stop on this trip has been painful on the ears. And all of that with Heddy… Just a dream, I tell myself, but I could swear there was something more to it.

I sigh as I step down from the bus. That dream might end up being the high point of this trip.

Pale dust costs my shoes as I lug my suitcase along the sandy road to my uncle's house on the outskirts of Marooner's point. The first day of summer and here I am at the most boring town on earth.

Mother woke me up early this morning. By the time I was awake enough to think, she had already packed me off to spend the summer with crazy uncle John, because "nice girls don't need bad influences like Heddy Saunders."

Uncle John's two story house perches at the tip of a small rocky peninsula, daring the ocean to sweep it away. The house seems to be Wining the battle, for now. An old mailbox leans near the porch steps, just a few degrees shy of falling over. Next to it, a narrow footpath cuts through the tall grass towards the back of the house.

This might not be so bad, really. Uncle John can be a little odd, but he's never been boring. I used to love spending the summer here.

I dump the heavy suitcase at the bottom of the porch steps and flex my fingers to get the blood flow back. I'm pretty sure my mother shoved a few bowling balls into the suitcase, just to punish me further.

I'm a little earlier than expected, assuming my uncle John remembers I were supposed to be visiting at al. I could explore around outside a bit before going in, or I could just bite the bullet and head to the house. If i'm going in anyway, I may as well bring the mail with me.

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