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with yellow eyes looked out of a tower very high somewhere. Below him
    was a barren stretch of land that had no trees to break its arid, thirsty landscape. His tower room was etched into the mountain we were looking down. In the distance, I saw a stretch of
    snowcapped mountains. I watched as the yellow eyed man surveyed his realm – whose white
    hair and face was oddly familiar. The wasteland wasn’t as deserted as I had originally thought. A mass of Watchers and Nightstalkers seethed around the land, training, preparing, hurting,
    carrying out his will. He turned back and looked directly at me, a smile playing along his delicate lips. Our eyes connected and I knew, I felt, he was aware of me.
    That’s when I woke up.
    My eyes raked my unfamiliar surroundings searching for an enemy, my thoughts still lost in that dry, arid landscape. Sharp moonlight streamed through glass doors. The sofa I was lying on was comfortable, but definitely not my bed. My clothes were different, warm pajamas from my
    house. I looked up and saw an elegant painting decorating the ceiling, which was very tall. It took me a second to recognize Daniel’s living room, the man’s yellow eyes piercing me through my dream. How could a set of eyes affect me so?
    I stood, thinking that if I could look out at the moon, look at something pure, the image would fade. I stumbled over to the glass door, fumbled with the latch, which felt overly complicated in my dazed state, and went out to the large veranda. I plopped down on the stone steps that led out toward the Adams’ flower gardens and took a deep breath. Crickets chirped happily, and a soft breeze billowed around, chilling me slightly around the heat of the evening. I wrapped my arms around my body and breathed in the damp air.
    My vision swirled again, in a very different way than head trauma, as I looked out over the dark.
    A buzzing whine started up around the swirling. I put my hands over my ears and waited for the sound to pass. The noise increased in tempo contrarily, swirling with sounds – a scratching tap, clinking of glass, soft music playing, the sound of a squirrel scampering around, the soft pad of deer through the woods, whispers, more whispering, then:
    “I very specifically told you not to come here! I told you I would call you with my answer. I don’t need a sitter, and I don’t need Odette meddling in my life more than she already has!” I heard Daniel say from…somewhere.
    “But your choices affect us all, Daniel, dear,” a sultry voice replied with a hint of a French accent. The voice was feminine and undeniably attractive. “The girl is too important to risk on your stubbornness.”
    “Is that why you’re here? Did you come to get a look at her? I won’t allow it. She’s not Odette’s plaything, either.”
    “Odette is not playing a game, merely trying to prevent what you have seen. Besides, phone calls are too easily traced. What we have to discuss should remain between us, I think.”
    “I haven’t made my choice. I told you that already,” Daniel said.
    “Odette says otherwise,” the woman said.
    “Oh, and what does the ‘all powerful’ seer see?” Daniel asked scathingly.
    “She has seen that the proposition I have brought before you will come to pass. You can’t resist.
    It means lives saved, and it means continuing your mission of atonement. But when you decide to go matters as much as if you go. If you are not there by Tuesday everything you hope for will die.”
    “I don’t need vague hints and cryptic messages from some two-bit pawn of a meddling Elder, who has nothing better to do than to try and coerce me to join her hapless crusade,” Daniel said.
    “Odette is your friend, Daniel. It is Odette who has protected the girl...who has made her presence felt against a full out attack on your people. You should also keep in mind that in this world you need powerful people backing you. You need allies, not enemies, and your list of enemies seems to