Chapters:

1. The Devil You Know

"Princess? Princess, where are you?"

She could hear them calling, and she hesitated. They knew she would hear them from anywhere on the Animarium. If she didn't answer, they would worry. But she really couldn't leave an animal spirit when it needed her like this...

Their next words changed her mind.

"Merrick?"

It was only Cole's voice she heard now, and she was on her feet before she realized she meant to move. Was Merrick here? Why hadn't he said anything? Had he somehow sensed the wolf spirit's condition and come to offer comfort?

"Are you here, Merrick? Princess?"

Merrick wasn't with them? Why would they think he was here, then? Was something wrong?

She touched the giant paw beside her, willing the spirit to heal, willing it to draw strength from her. "I'll be back," she whispered. "I wouldn't leave for anything less than your chosen warrior. I'll bring him back with me if I can."

There was no response from the troubled wolf spirit. He was sick, she thought, and gravely so, but she was unsure how it had come to pass. She was dismayed by her inability to find the cause... maybe Merrick would be able to help.

She sparkled across the lake toward the temple, alighting in the clearing just outside. Cole and Alyssa were there, as she'd heard, and Alyssa at least looked relieved to see her. Cole just looked intent. Worried, and very intent. As someone who took everything so deeply to heart, it wasn't an unusual expression for him.

"Princess," he said, striding toward her. "Have you seen Merrick?"

"No, I haven't." She glanced from one to the other, worried by what they hadn't said. "Why? Has something happened?"

Cole and Alyssa looked at each other. "He was supposed to meet us for dinner last night," Alyssa told her. "When he didn't show up, we called Willie's, and he said Merrick hasn't been in at all this week."

"We checked with Taylor, too," Cole put in. "Then we called Danny and Max just to make sure, but no one's seen him since he went up north. He was supposed to be back two days ago," he added, as though she might have forgotten.

"We thought maybe you could at least find out if he came back," Alyssa said, and her apology for asking was there in her tone.

She could, of course. If it had been anyone else, she might have hesitated, might have explained that sometimes people didn't want to be found and to disrespect their wishes was to disrespect them. If it had been anyone else, she might have weighed their concern against his capabilities and found the odds to be distinctly in his favor.

On the other hand, if it had been anyone else, they wouldn't be asking her in the first place.

"I will find him," she promised. "Wait here until I return."

"We'll come with you," Cole offered immediately.

"No," she said, giving a small smile her best effort. "I think it's better if he doesn't know you were involved. If something is wrong, he'll need people he trusts."

Alyssa caught her arm as she was about to turn away. "He trusts you, Princess," she said earnestly.

This time, she found she couldn't muster even a token smile. "He did," she agreed quietly. "Once."

She walked off of the Animarium before she could see the look Alyssa would give Cole. She knew Alyssa thought she underestimated Merrick. She herself wondered if she had overestimated him. She had thought that he, of all people, might know how to forgive, yet the silence between them continued.

Willie's Roadhouse was quiet this afternoon, and that was typical for the time of day. There was Thom at the bar, with a soda and a newspaper spread out in front of him, and someone she didn't recognize at a table by the windows, eating a sandwich and paying no attention to her. Thom looked up, though, and nodded once before turning back to his paper.

The swinging doors behind the bar banged open as Willie wandered out. He stopped when he saw her, staring for a moment, and it was only then that she realized she'd forgotten to change out of her temple dress. She'd been so distracted that it hadn't even occurred to her.

Willie didn't bother to greet her. He jerked his head toward the doors he'd just come through, and she followed him out back without question. "Been expecting you," he said, his voice low enough that it wouldn't carry.

There was only one thing that could mean. "Is he here?" she asked. She made sure her voice just as quiet, but she couldn't keep the urgency out of it.

"Yeah." Willie was studying her. "He's here."

She turned to go, to find him, but Willie's voice stopped her.

"Shayla."

She hesitated, but he didn't go on. She didn't know what she would see in his face, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. He liked her; she didn't doubt that. But he had always been Merrick's friend and ally first.

Reluctantly, she turned to face him again.

"He says he doesn't want to see you," Willie said bluntly. "Not any of you."

She looked at him for a long moment, trying not to let her hurt show. "You told Alyssa he wasn't here."

Willie shrugged as though it didn't matter. "I'm not gonna lie to you." She didn't miss the subtle emphasis on "you," but she didn't know exactly what it meant, either.

"He's here," Willie continued. "But he's in bad shape. And he says he doesn't want to see anyone right now."

"Bad shape?" she repeated. Worry swept the hurt away. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean he came in looking like he had a pack of hound dogs on his trail." Willie gave her a meaningful look. "And he took a drink when I gave him one. No argument. He went on up to his room and hasn't come out since."

She had never seen Merrick drink. No... once, she had seen him drink. She flinched away from that memory. She had never seen him drink since coming forward to this time.

"You haven't seen him since then?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even. "When was that?"

"I seen him," Willie corrected. "He hasn't come outta his room, is all. Someone's gotta make sure that boy eats."

She heard a reproof whether he intended one or not, and she looked away. "When was that?" she repeated softly. "How is he? Do you have any idea what's wrong?"

"He came in yesterday morning, early," Willie said. "Real early. Looked like he hadn't slept since I seen him last. He's not good, Shayla, but damned if I know what's wrong with him."

She pressed her lips together, then nodded once. "I'm going to see him," she said, not that there had been any question.

This time Willie didn't try to stop her. "Use the fire stairs," was all he said. "Don't have to walk through all that again."

She supposed he meant Thom. She didn't care what Thom said or knew about her activities, but Willie was the owner, so she nodded again. "Thank you."

He waved her off, heading for the doors before she started to move. Then he seemed to think better of it and he paused. "You need anything," he said, his back to her, "you holler for me."

Did he think she would? Did he think Merrick would? She didn't know how to interpret that, so she just said simply, "I will."

That seemed to satisfy him. He disappeared out front, and she made her way upstairs. It was strange, but compared to the outside world, the Roadhouse Cafe had changed very little over the years. It was a familiar place in the midst of grave uncertainty.

She wondered what she was going to say to Merrick. She couldn't implicate Alyssa and Cole, but he would never believe that she had come looking for him because she hadn't seen him. She rarely saw him, even now that she had started to leave the Animarium again... only when he wasn't careful enough in his avoidance of her, or when one of the others tricked them into showing up at the same event.

She had barely paused outside his door when it was flung open and metal and crystal flashed in her face. She drew back, unable to suppress a gasp as the dagger came within a breath of her skin and everything in the world narrowed to the motion of that blade. She didn't even recognize the face behind it.

Then the raw fury in Merrick's expression gave way to fear, and he fell to one knee before her. She heard the weapon clatter to the floor, saw his bowed head, had a brief moment to wonder what on earth had possessed him. Then she reached out, opening her mouth, and he melted away.

She had no idea how he did that. He spun so quickly it might as well have been magic, regaining his feet a step away and decidedly out of reach. His back to her. "You," he growled. "You lied."

Her mouth fell open. Her gaze went to the floor, where his dagger lay forgotten, then back to him. She didn't know what surprised her more: that he had actually dropped a weapon, or that he had taken that tone with her.

"No, no, no--" He broke off abruptly, his hands going to his head, and he choked, "Stop talking to me! Go, go, get out!"

Eyes wide, she took a step back. "Merrick?" she asked uncertainly.

He made a wide sweeping motion with his arm as he turned, almost as though he was pushing something away. He froze when he caught sight of her, staring... maybe--surprised that she was still there? Had she ever disobeyed an order from him?

Then he sank down, eyes still on hers, lowering himself to the ground until both knees were on the floor. He stared up at her with the sort of awe she hadn't had from him in a very long time. "Princess," he breathed. "You're here."

She swallowed. "Yes," she said quietly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude."

He seemed to collect himself, back straightening as his gaze dropped to the floor in front of him. "It is no intrusion," he corrected. He sounded very stiff, all of a sudden. "Of course. The right of access is yours, as always."

She frowned a little, surprised to hear him invoke the ancient rights. Before she could say anything, though, a sound of dismay escaped him. He crumpled, and she dropped down beside him before she could think. She caught his head before he hit the floor, but only barely.

He was blinking slowly at her, and she slid her arms under his shoulders. "Merrick," she said firmly. "You're not well. Come. Lie down a moment."

"Am lying down," he insisted, his words oddly distorted. His eyes were focused somewhere behind her. "Go 'way."

She sighed. Willie hadn't been bringing him anything... alcoholic, with his meals--had he? Early morning drink or no, she didn't think the man would let Merrick do that to himself. And he didn't smell like alcohol...

She slid her fingers over his face carefully, pressing one hand to his forehead. It wasn't her imagination. His skin was hot, his eyes were unfocused, and his words were starting to slur. For someone with a constitution like his, this was unusual indeed.

"You must get up," she insisted, cradling his head again as she leaned into him, urging him into a sitting position. "To your bed, Merrick. I will not have you lying on the floor."

"No?" His gaze was fixed on her now, and she could feel tension straightening his frame once more. His arm went around her waist, startling her beyond words when he pulled her up beside him. He kept her close, so close, as he murmured, "How will you have me, then?"

He was--he was fine, suddenly, standing, breathing, focused. Too focused. She tried to step back, and his arm tightened around her even as he leaned in, warm, hot against her, and so very intent. She swallowed, turning her head away, trying desperately to look anywhere but at him.

His breath on her skin made her shiver, but his words made her blood run cold. "I know why he did it," he whispered. "I know, Princess." His lips brushed against her temple as he murmured, "Do you know how I know?"

She was paralyzed, unable to respond one way or the other.

Merrick's body was trembling now. "I know," he said hoarsely, his mouth so close to her ear that the words seemed to scrape at something in her soul. "Because I wanted it too."

"Merrick," she gasped, twisting hard in his grasp. She didn't want to hurt him. "Don't."

He shoved her away with enough force to make her stumble. Sharp words rose up and died when she saw the anguish on his face. Eyes squeezed shut, he held his head in both hands as he muttered, "Even when I imagine it, it's wrong."

He lifted his head, and she caught her breath as his eyes met hers. "Even when you're not real," he said, very clearly. "It's still wrong."

She just stared at him, not understanding.

His gaze slid away, roaming restlessly across the room. It settled on the door, and he started toward it. She opened her mouth--but he was bending down, picking up the blade he'd dropped and closing the door. "Do you know," he ground out.

He turned. "Do you know what you've done to me," he repeated, eyes burning into hers. "That oath takes everything you give it, Princess."

Heat rose in her face, and she felt the back of her eyelids prick uncontrollably. He hadn't mentioned his oath once in all the time she'd been awake. Not since Zen-Aku. She hadn't even been sure it survived three thousand years of wolf.

She had never, ever thought to hear him say "Princess" with so much spite.

"Did Dakura promise too?" he demanded. His fingers were white around the hilt of that ceremonial dagger, and his voice rose as he insisted, "Did he say the words? Did he give you everything I did? Or did you add this because of him!"

She turned away. That was a name he had sworn never to mention again, and she could have gone the rest of her lifetime without hearing it. Dakura. Princess Shayla and Dakura. How perfectly... acceptable, she had said at the time, with barely restrained delight. How perfectly royal.

"Tell me, Princess." His voice had dropped, low and dangerous, almost deadly in its intent. "Do they always mean that oath the way I meant it?"

She heard him coming up behind her. He made no sound. Only his voice approached, ghosting across the space as he stalked her deepest regret.

"I meant it, Princess." She could feel him, close now, close enough that his whisper brought the tears she had meant to hide. His words were angry and mean as he hissed, "And I have suffered for his mistakes ever since."

She wouldn't let him see her like this. Not when he was being so horrible. Sick or not, she would not take this from him.

She lifted her head and turned, pinning him with the glare her father had taught her. "You forget yourself, Merrick."

To her surprise, he wasn't even looking at her. He was staring hard at the mirror on the back of the door, but he glanced back at the sound of her voice. His face lit with an easy smile that took her breath away.

"Princess!" It was as though her attitude had brought him back. She could only stare in consternation as he gave her a sharp but pleasant nod, the pretend bow that he had adopted in private as their partnership proceeded, and offered her his arm. "Are we to go, then?"

Confused, she looked from his face to his arm and back again. "To go... where?"

"To the temple, Princess?" His amused gaze swept casually over her body, a look that would have made her smile under any other circumstances. "You're dressed for it, after all."

She had no idea what to make of his wildly unpredictable behavior. "No," she said at last. "No, Merrick... I won't leave until I understand--" She had to stop there, at a loss. Understand what? Him? Herself? She would never leave, then.

"Well, that shouldn't take long, Princess." He flashed a bright smile that invited her to share his complimentary humor.

She opened her mouth with no idea what to say. Then his eyes blinked past her, refocusing so abruptly that she actually turned to see what he was looking at. There was nothing there.

When she looked back at him, though, he had gone very stiff and he bowed perfunctorily. "As you wish, Princess."

She couldn't stand it anymore. "Merrick, tell me what's happening!"

"Gladly, Princess." There was no expression on his face. "What do you wish to know?"

She stared at him. "You act as though you... you--" She scrambled for the word. In frustration, she gave up. "You're mad!"

"Then stop torturing me!" he exploded.

She took an inadvertent step back. "Merrick," she said carefully. The blade in his hand glinted whenever he gestured. "Perhaps you should put your dagger away."

The door to his room burst open. A growling blur of teeth and fur shot between them, intercepting Willie just as he charged into the room, and Merrick yelled something incoherent. She knew her chances of disarming him by force were minimal, so she focused on the one thing she might be able to affect.

"Moon!" she said sharply. "Leave it!"

Somewhat to her surprise, the menacing animal let himself be called off, sinking back on his haunches and contenting himself with a snarl in Willie's general direction. Willie, too, came to an abrupt halt, lowering his arms from their instinctive defense. His eyes went first to her, then to Merrick.

Merrick had withdrawn from the chaos, huddling oddly by the window. He still held his dagger in one hand. Inexplicably his flute was now clutched in the other, and there was a hunted look on his face.

"What's wrong with you, then?" Willie said gruffly. He, too, was assessing Merrick. "You know the weapons' rule. Hell, you're responsible for it. What're you doing with that blade?"

"No trespassing," Merrick growled. The words were rough and deep in the back of his throat, and the voice made her shiver. She knew that tone. "Get out of my forest, human."

"What--" Willie stared at him. She knew the feeling. He couldn't seem to come up with a question, so he settled for repeating himself. "What!" His gaze sought hers, but she had no answers for him. Only more questions.

"Merrick," she said quietly, trying to see more than just her intuition in his posture. "We're not trespassing. Not here," she added, when his eyes flicked to hers. "Not anymore."

His gaze dropped to her chest, and she lifted her hand involuntarily. Her necklace was a familiar pressure under her fingers. She saw a frown crease his forehead, and he muttered, "I've seen that somewhere before..."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Willie throw up his hands in exasperation, but she didn't dare take her eyes off of Merrick. "You gave it to me," she said, very gently. "Don't you remember?"

He shook his head once. She wasn't sure it was really a negation, but she could feel Willie watching them closely. "Merrick," she said, careful not to startle him. "Do you know who you are?"

He looked away, barely acknowledging her. "Merrick," he repeated under his breath. It wasn't an answer. She was sure it was a question.

"Zen-Aku?" she countered sharply.

His gaze jerked back to hers. "What."

That wasn't a question.

"Who," Willie demanded, "or what, is Zen-Aku?"

She saw the way Merrick tensed, the way his eyes moved, the way his fingers curled around the hilt in his hand... all the signs he had trained her to read. She struck his arm as he threw, wrapped it around behind his back--and staggered as he fell. She couldn't have hit his head, she thought, with a flash of panic.

Then Willie was there with her, supporting Merrick on the other side, and he nodded curtly toward the bed. She didn't need the instruction, but she was grateful for the help. Merrick was a dead weight between them, unconscious as she had expected him to be the first time he collapsed.

"What the blue blazes is going on here?" Willie demanded, as he swung Merrick's legs onto the bed along with his upper body. She rearranged his arms gently, scanning his face for signs of pain or imminent awakening.

"Shayla," Willie said again. He had taken a step back now, but he was still watching closely, a wary look for Merrick and a worried one for her. "I'd never have sent you up here if I thought he'd be... well, like this."

She stepped away from the bed and went toward the door, trusting Willie to watch while her back was turned. "He wasn't like this before?" she asked over her shoulder. The dagger was embedded in the wall beside the door, and she had to use both hands to get it out.

"No!" Willie denied the suggestion vehemently. "He was tired, ragged, maybe a little distracted. Not violent. Least, no more than usual, if you know what I'm saying."

She considered Merrick's dagger dispassionately. He had trained her with it against all rules of etiquette and propriety, but, he said, in keeping with his oath as her protector. She could see his concentration in her memory, see his pride in an enemy conquered or a battle won. She could picture him here, in this bar, fiercely confident in his ability to maintain order.

Violent, perhaps, but not unpredictably so. He always shared his rules before he enforced them. Or he had, until today.

"I know," she agreed quietly. She let the dagger twist so that the hilt was pointed outward and the blade lay safely sideways against her wrist. She folded her hands in front of her automatically as she turned back to Willie and Merrick.

Willie was frowning down at the man on the bed. "You just lie there, son. You don't look like you're in any shape to be moving around right now."

Merrick was awake, she realized suddenly. She stopped where she was, a little unsure what his reaction to her would be. If Willie said he had been fine until she appeared...

Still the soldier, she thought with a sigh. He was scanning the room the moment his eyes opened, and he struggled to sit up the moment he saw her. "Princess," he blurted out. He glanced at Willie, then back at her, but he didn't say anything else.

"Hey, take it easy there," Willie told him. He didn't get any closer to Merrick than he had been before, but that was typical for him. "You blacked out there for a minute."

Merrick was sitting on the edge of the bed now, hands braced beside him, and he gave Willie a sharp look. "Did I?"

Willie was frowning at him. "Sure did. You weren't too steady beforehand, either, as I recall."

She watched as Merrick transferred his gaze to the floor. He was trying to remember, she thought. She could tell from the frustrated way he set his shoulders to the way he stared at the rug, as though he was trying to see into his own mind. How much was he trying to bring back, she wondered? Was it only the last few moments he'd forgotten?

"Merrick," she said gently.

He glanced up at her, and that was her answer. He didn't remember any of it. Nothing, from the time she'd arrived to the time they had lowered him onto the bed. He was giving her that look now, the look of betrayed longing that she'd seen in his eyes ever since she'd confronted him that night by Cole and Alyssa's porch. That look was normal now, familiar, what she expected to see when he looked at her--what she hadn't seen when she came in, not until he'd opened his eyes just now.

His gaze fell to her hands, and she forced herself to remain still. She had his dagger for a reason. She wasn't going to give it back just because he wasn't attacking either of them right now.

"What--" Merrick's hand went to his side, a gesture that made her frown. He hadn't carried his dagger at his waist since the Rangers.

"What happened?" he asked warily. He looked from one of them to the other, apparently making a decision. "I'm sorry... I'm not sure what you're doing here." It was almost a question, but she could hear worry behind the stiffness in his voice.

She looked at Willie and found him looking back. It was clear that he had no more idea what to make of the situation than she did, so she took a deep breath. "Merrick," she repeated. "You've been acting very strangely. You collapsed twice. You... you threatened Willie."

She didn't mention that he had waved the dagger in her face too, and from the horrified look he gave Willie, that had been the right decision. Merrick already had so many things he thought he had to atone for--she wouldn't add any more.

"I think you should come with me," she added firmly, before he could say anything. "I want to have someone look at you. I think you might be sick, Merrick."

Willie snorted at that. "Think," he scoffed. "I know you been sick since you walked in here yesterday morning." He held up his hand when Merrick started to protest. "You always shake it off, I know. But this time..."

Willie paused, giving her a pointed look, and she wondered what she was supposed to see in that. Finally, he just shook his head. "Well, you're sure not getting any better," he muttered.

"I don't--" Merrick stopped abruptly. He glanced at her hands again, then said, "Maybe you're right."

She blinked. "Really?"

He looked up at her, and this time his usual look was tinged with amusement.

"I mean, yes, of course," she said quickly. "Come with me. Can you walk?"

"I'll drive you," Willie put in. "You just tell me where you're headed, and--"

"No." Merrick stood, cutting him off. He looked almost normal when he stood up, she thought. Tired, maybe, a little worn--just as Willie had described him. Not wild or dangerous. Just... worn out.

"I'll be fine," Merrick was saying. He sounded sure of himself, even a little impatient, as though Willie's suggestion was totally unnecessary.

She caught the look Willie gave her, and she knew then that it wasn't just Merrick he was worried about. "We'll be all right," she promised, touched by his concern. "We don't have far to go."

"Yeah, you always say that," he grumbled. "And I still don't know how far is far." He eyed them with his usual look of grudging fondness. "But if you think you can handle it..."

To her surprise, it seemed that Merrick hadn't missed Willie's true concern either. "If you think I would ever allow harm to come to the princess," he began.

Willie stopped him before he could go any further. "I know you'd never mean to hurt her," he said. They were talking only to each other now, as though she wasn't even there. "But she called you something else just before you blacked out, and you acted like it might be your name or something."

"Something else?" Merrick gave her a sharp look, fast and searching. "What did you call me?"

Just like that, she was part of the conversation again, and now she found she didn't want to be. They didn't need to talk about this here. She wanted to get Merrick away from here before he realized what he had done, what he had said... before he remembered anything that would make him avoid her even more assiduously than he already did.

Unfortunately, Willie had no such compunction. "Zen something," he declared. "Zen Achoo, it sounded like."

Merrick looked like he'd been struck. His expression when his eyes met hers again was one of fear and denial, and she shook her head quickly. "It was just a memory," she told him. "That's all it was, I'm sure."

Was it just a memory? If that was it, why had it taken him over so thoroughly, until he didn't even seem to know where he was? And why didn't he remember it now?

If it was a memory, had everything else been... memories, too?

"I have to leave," Merrick muttered.

"Yes," she agreed. "You have to come with me." She knew it wasn't exactly what he meant, but despite the look he gave her, he didn't protest.

Willie just shook his head. "I hope you know what you're doing," he said. When she glanced at him, he wasn't looking at Merrick.

"We'll be all right," she said again. "Come, Merrick."

Merick gave her an annoyed look, and she had to suppress a smile. Despite all outward appearances, that time when he obeyed her every command without question had never truly existed. It had been a rare thing when he expressed doubt or dissent in front of others, of course, but since breaking the curse of Zen-Aku she had noticed it becoming increasingly more common.

If he had only protested a little harder the last time she gave him an order.

He followed her despite the look, and Willie let them go. Moon trailed them, out the back this time, through the kitchen and toward the nearest trees. She was sure Willie wouldn't bother watching the road. He didn't know where they were going, but she knew from talking to him that he was perfectly aware that Merrick, at least, disappeared at times and in ways that he shouldn't.

Merrick stopped her before the Roadhouse was completely obscured from view. Still on the earth, still in his territory, his voice brought her to a halt with a single word. "Princess."

She turned, hopeful even now. No matter the circumstances or the time passed or the other things that must be on his mind, she couldn't help wishing that this might be the moment he allowed her to apologize. He so rarely sought her attention now, and when he did it was only in the most formal of ways.

As unpredictable as he had been before, in his room before Willie arrived, he had at least spoken to her. It was easily the longest conversation they'd had since that night by the porch, and arguably more productive. This time she hadn't understood him, but then he hadn't even listened to her.

"What happened back there?" Merrick asked, immune to her wishes in a way that would have been inconceivable just a few short years ago. "Why did you call me Zen-Aku? And why don't I remember?"

She opened her mouth, but she didn't have answers for any of those questions. "I don't know," she said, troubled.

"That doesn't help me, Princess." His stare was just as neutral as it had been before, but he folded his arms across his chest and she thought she could hear the warning in his voice. "Whether you understood it or not, you're the only one who knows what you saw... what I said. What I did. I'm lost without you."

She searched his expression, certain that declaration was no coincidence. Yet there was no softening of his hard gaze, no acknowledgement that she might still be more to him than just a means to an end. So familiar, yet so distant.

"What's the last thing you remember?" she asked carefully.

"I don't--" He stopped, maybe thinking better of his instinctive protest. "I remember... eating. Willie brought me lunch."

He hesitated. "I remember people talking," he added reluctantly. "Almost as though I was dreaming. I must have fallen asleep. I've been..."

He trailed off again, maybe unwilling to admit it, so she asked. "Have you been sick, Merrick?"

The look on his face was oddly guilty, as though he was confessing a personal weakness. "Maybe," he muttered. "I don't know."

"I want Alyssa to look at you," she said firmly. "She and Cole are... visiting me, this afternoon. On the Animarium. I want you to come with me and tell her what you can. Maybe she can help."

Guilty or not, his gaze was still intent on her as he insisted, "What will you tell her, Princess? What did I say to you?"

"Nothing important," she said, looking away.

"I dreamed of you," he said slowly. That quiet statement made her breath catch, even if it probably didn't mean what she wished it did. His next words confirmed it. "Back in Animaria. I dreamed that you were..."

The pause made her nervous. "You dreamed that I was what?" she asked, still staring at the ground.

"I don't know," he muttered at last. "It doesn't make any sense in my mind."

She was taking a chance by letting him talk about this here, where he could still disappear with no animal spirits to watch over him before she got him somewhere safe. "It didn't make any sense when you said it, either," she admitted anyway.

She didn't have to see his sharp look. She could feel it. "Said what?" he wanted to know.

"You acted... strangely," she said, turning further away and fingering the dagger in her hands. "When I first came in, you--you took a knee, and you said things..."

"You came in?" he repeated. "Did you surprise me? Old habits die hard, Princess."

"I... I think I did surprise you," she said, very softly. "But..." She straightened her shoulders, lifting her gaze to the trees. "But you spoke strangely as well, mentioning things long gone, behaving in ways that were..."

There was a moment of tense silence between them, and she knew she had caused it with her hesitation. But she couldn't find the words before he did, before he interrupted the moment with a brittle tone. "How, Princess. How did I behave?"

"You behaved in ways that were appropriate to Animaria," she said quickly. "Not to this time. Not now. You acted almost as though... you were back there, back--" The word escaped before she could change it. "Home again."

This time he didn't speak, and she bit her tongue to keep from making it worse.

Finally she heard him turn away. She looked over her shoulder, wary eyes making sure he didn't take more than a single step in the opposite direction. His voice came back to her then. "Why did you call me Zen-Aku?" he asked, very quietly.

"You mentioned the forest." It might have been the easiest question he could have asked, and she didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. "You called Willie... 'human'. It reminded me of..."

She didn't finish. She didn't have to.

"Zen-Aku," he muttered.

She nodded even though he wasn't looking at her.

"Was that before or after I... treated you like royalty." The words were uncomfortable, and not only because they reflected the false impression she had deliberately conveyed to him. It barely sounded like a question.

"After," she said. "Just before you collapsed. Willie and I moved you to your bed, and you woke again moments later."

She could almost hear the frown in his voice. "You said I... collapsed, twice."

"Yes," she admitted, turning back toward him. It was safer when he was looking away. "Just before--" She caught herself when she realized she had nothing to say that wouldn't horrify him. "Just after I came in."

She saw him stiffen, and she knew the correction had not gone unnoticed. "Before what?" he wanted to know.

"Just after I came in," she repeated. "Just before... before Willie came to check on us."

"So quickly?" he asked, in that tone of voice that said he knew she was lying. He turned around too, and they were facing each other again. "Before what, Princess?"

She stared at him for a long moment, but she couldn't hold his gaze. She glanced down at the ground, careful not to move her hands, careful not to draw attention to the object she held. She couldn't answer.

"Princess," he said softly. He actually moved toward her, and she kept her gaze where it was as though she could somehow keep him from being frightened away. "I'm not embarrassed when I stand before you," he told her, his tone gentle enough that she almost looked up. "And I know you're not ashamed of anything you've said to me. So tell me what happened back there, in my room."

"You're wrong," she whispered. "I am ashamed, Merrick." She stared at the ground, her voice gaining strength even as she refused to look at him. She had seen too much of his unforgiving expression. "I'm sorry for what I said to you two years ago. I'm sorry for taking back what I gave to you. And I'm sorry for sending you away."

She lifted her gaze to the trees, aware that he hadn't moved since she started talking. "I'm ashamed whenever I think of it," she said fiercely. "And all I ask is that you acknowledge that, even if you can't forgive me, that you realize I know I was wrong and that I would give anything to do that day over again."

Sometimes, one made one's own chances to apologize.

"Would it change anything?" he asked, his voice oddly quiet.

Startled, she caught his eye. He didn't back away, didn't look away, didn't do anything but add, "What if I offered what I offered then? Would it change anything, if we could do it over again?"

She knew it wouldn't. She had said what she said for reasons that were as true now as they had been then... but she also had two years of experience with the consequences of that action. She had to say yes.

She had to say yes, because to say no would be to send him away all over again.

"Yes," she said.

"You're lying," he replied. But his gaze softened, and he was still here with her. Listening.

"I can't change what I said then," she told him. "There is nothing I can do to take back those words. But I regret them. I regret them more than anything I've... we've--" She hesitated before murmuring, "I regret them more than anything else we've lost."

His tone was still soft, gentle, but no less resigned. "Is it the words you regret, Princess? Or the circumstances behind them?"

She didn't want to lie to him, but she would not resign herself to a life apart. She gave him the only truth she could. "I don't want you to leave me again," she said quietly.

This time, he looked away first. "What did I say, Princess."

She hesitated, confused. "I don't understand."

"At Willie's. What happened before I began acting like Zen-Aku. What aren't you telling me," he muttered, little force behind it. As though he didn't really want to know.

Because he expected her to tell him. Somehow this half-hearted plea was more effective than his insistence, and she sighed. "You mentioned Dakura," she admitted, hoping once more that the truth would be enough without elaboration.

"No," he breathed. More in denial than disbelief, she thought, seeing his dismay as he lifted his gaze. "Why? Why would I do that?"

No, she agreed silently. It seemed that the truth would not be enough on its own after all. She made one last effort to avoid this conversation.

"Let's not talk about this here," she pleaded. "Please, come to the Animarium with me."

He shook his head once. "I won't talk about it in front of Alyssa," he warned.

"Then we'll talk about it later. After she's looked at you. There's something wrong, Merrick, and maybe you'll be safer there."

The deliberate glance he gave her hands said that he hadn't forgotten why he had agreed to leave with her in the first place. "Maybe you will be," he said under his breath.

If that was what it took to get him there, she thought. Then so be it.

The vague threat to her safety did indeed get him to the Animarium. Unfortunately, they didn't find any answers waiting for them there. Alyssa pronounced him physically fit, if a little under the weather, but she couldn't come up with any explanation for his apparent hallucinations.

"They're so specific," Alyssa said worriedly. "Almost more like flashbacks than hallucinations... but if you're actually seeing things that aren't there, they can't be just memories."

"I don't remember seeing anything," Merrick growled. His patience was rapidly deteriorating, and the fact that Cole and Alyssa hadn't even pretended to be surprised to see him probably hadn't helped. "I told you, the last thing I remember is eating lunch. Nothing after that."

"You said you thought you had some kind of dream," she reminded him. "Could that have been what I saw when you were talking to me?"

He met her gaze for a long moment, but she didn't know how to read what she saw there. "Princess," he said at last. "I hope not."

That was when she knew that he remembered more than he was saying. And he must have known, just from looking at her, that he wasn't wrong. But...

I won't talk about it in front of Alyssa.

She didn't blame him. She didn't know how to ask Alyssa and Cole to leave without telling them why, either. So she did, saying that they needed to talk about this, and that as long as Merrick didn't seem seriously ill, she would keep a careful eye on him and report any changes to Alyssa.

By mentioning "talking" she gained Alyssa and Cole's instant cooperation and Merrick's unspoken but obvious wariness. Still, since the latter was mostly a given now, she thought it was a fair trade for the former. Her friends made themselves scarce, conferring with each other, mentioning something about dinner, and wishing Merrick well just before they vanished.

"Tell me," she said, when they were gone. "What did you dream?"

"Tell me what you saw," he countered stiffly.

She walked over to the table, reaching for the dagger she'd set there when they first arrived. The motion got Moon's attention, and the wolf hybrid lifted his head and fixed her with a piercing gaze as she turned back to Merrick. What he thought she was going to do, she didn't know.

"You greeted me at the door with this." She turned the blade over in her hands, paying more attention to his reaction than to the weapon itself. "When you recognized me, you knelt. You--" She didn't mean to pause, but she did. "You accused me of lying," she said, more quietly. "You told me to leave."

Merrick was shaking his head, staring at the dagger, then lifting his gaze to hers when her tone changed. "No," he said, with some force. "I don't remember any of that, Princess."

"It happened," she insisted. "That was when you collapsed the first time. You just sank to the ground. Then you stared up at me as though you were surprised to see me."

Merrick frowned. "As though I had forgotten you were there," he murmured. "As I would again later."

His thoughtful expression had to be a good sign, no matter how troubled. As long as he was still considering the story, as long as he was discussing it with her, here, he was still reachable. She would have to follow him if he left, and she wasn't sure she could. As long as they were both on the earth she would know where he was, but she knew that if he ran he could make it very, very difficult for her to keep up.

"It is possible, then, that the memory loss is connected to my..." He grimaced, making clear his frustration with himself. "Physical incapacitation."

She opened her mouth, and his eyes went to her even as she hesitated. "I'm not sure," she said slowly. "There were--other times, when it appeared... that perhaps you did not remember something you had just said."

"What other times?" he pressed. "When I mentioned--the one before me?" The disgust in his tone was obvious. "Perhaps I simply regained my senses."

"Perhaps," she murmured, looking away.

"Princess." His tone was stern, impatient, almost angry, and she could imagine that it was directed at her. "Tell me what happened before I assume the worst and remove myself from your presence forever."

She gasped, taking an inadvertent step toward him. He didn't move. Not to leave, nor to back down. He just stood there, staring at her, a statue awaiting judgement... or a warrior waiting to pronounce it.

"Tell me," he repeated firmly. A warning.

"You told me you knew," she blurted out. "That you knew, why--he--did it. Because..."

No matter his ultimatum, she found herself trailing off, unable or unwilling to continue. Merrick respected her space, but he didn't wait. "Because?" he prompted, more gently this time. More hesitantly. As though he was afraid to hear the answer.

"Because you'd thought about it too," she murmured, and it was almost as embarrassing to be embarrassed as it was to think of Merrick that way. Because wasn't he a man? A good man, who had every right to want a woman?

"Princess." Merrick's voice seemed to come from farther away than just the distance between them now. "Did you hear me say that I ever so much as contemplated the possibility of taking you against your will?"

She focused on him here, now, abruptly. "No."

He was staring at her just as hard. "If you ever did hear such a thing, would you know it was a lie?"

"Of course." She trusted him with far more than her life. She always had. "I was never in any danger, Merrick. I'm only telling you because you insisted on knowing."

"And this is what happened between your arrival and Willie's," he repeated slowly. His eyes went to her hands again. "I assume I greeted him with that as well."

She nodded, wishing she could do anything else.

He stiffened. His gaze was suddenly distant, focused on a point just past her left shoulder. She thought he was drawing back, mentally berating himself for what she had told him--until he spoke.

"Princess," he said, his voice strange. "Is there anyone else in the temple?"

"No." He knew as well as she did that the temple was empty, but perhaps he meant the Animarium. "There's no one here but us. Why?"

His gaze didn't waver as he stared past her. "Because May is standing right behind you."

Her breath caught, and she felt the skin on her arms prickle. She hadn't seen her childhood friend since the last days of Animaria--since before that, even, when she had been hustled off to the safety of the temple and May had stayed behind at the palace. She turned around carefully, bracing herself for a ghost, a phantom, any kind of spirit...

But of course there was no one there.

2. Going for Refuge

"Merrick," she said, glancing over her shoulder.

He didn't move. "You don't see her."

She opened her mouth to point out that there wasn't anything there. "No," she said, changing her mind at the last moment. "I don't. Are you... sure of what you see?"

"No," he said. "Certainly not, lady."

She frowned, surprised by his demeanor as much as by the sudden change of address. "I was only asking," she pointed out, hoping she didn't sound as defensive as she felt.

Merrick's eyes flicked to her, and comprehension dawned a split-second before he spoke. The shift in his gaze, from the place just beside her to her... from someone she couldn't see, to her. He hadn't been talking to her at all.

"Forgive me, Princess," he said formally. His next words confirmed her guess. "Your... friend wished to know if she was interrupting."

"Merrick--" The scene in his room was all too clear in her mind. "There's no one there."

He lowered his head, and she bit her lip. Not this again. When he murmured, "As you say, Princess," she was almost overwhelmed by the urge to stamp her foot.

"Merrick, we are three thousand years removed from anyone who would care whether you defer to me or not, and if you don't stop calling me 'Princess' I think I may go mad!"

He looked up at her from under his bangs, and she thought she caught the faintest hint of a smile. He had heard her. She was fairly sure of that, at least. What else he might be hearing, though, she had no idea.

"Lady," he said, returning his gaze to the ground. "I wonder if I might beg your indulgence in borrowing the princess for a moment."

He had won May's instant affection by calling her "lady" the first time they were introduced, and the eccentric courtesy had continued as long as they'd known each other. It made her a little nostalgic to hear it now. She almost thought that if she listened carefully enough, she might hear May's reply.

"She leaves," Merrick said under his breath.

She couldn't help glancing over her shoulder, but the temple was as empty as it had been before. "She always did," she murmured. May had known, of course, of her close affection for her second protector.

"She's very... she was very discreet." He was studying her openly now. "You really didn't see her--?" She heard "Princess" on the end, whether he stopped himself from saying it or not, but she gave him a smile for the effort.

"I didn't see anyone but you," she admitted. "But she spoke to you? You seemed to... interact with her."

"And I remember it." He added this as though her questions were so obvious as to not require answers. "Not like the last time."

"You didn't lose consciousness this time," she pointed out. "Maybe that's why you remember."

"Or maybe the memory is simply less... disturbing." The suggestion was made with obvious reluctance. "Unlike some of the people you say I mentioned last time, I have no anger or discomfort associated with May."

"Was it a memory?" she asked curiously. "Did you see or hear May behave exactly as she did once? Or was it something else?"

He hesitated, maybe thinking about it, but finally he shook his head. "I don't know. She seemed to interact with me, as you say. And that would have to be new, not a product of memory, since I surely never said..." He trailed off.

"Are you sure?" she asked gently. "I heard you say nothing that you might not have said three thousand years ago."

Merrick was frowning. "She saw you," he said slowly.

"What do you mean? Oh--" She blinked. "You said she asked if she was interrupting. Interrupting... us?"

"Indeed." That was all he said, but the way he said it made her wish she had heard what he did. May had been discreet around other people, but she hadn't been above teasing the both of them if the opportunity presented itself.

"All right," she said slowly. "So if we assume May was real... how could she be here? Is she a spirit, a ghost of some sort?"

"Or has she been reborn," Merrick muttered. He was still clearly distracted. "Like Animus, or Master Org."

She looked around as though she might be able to sense the source of his distraction. "Then why can't I see her?" she pointed out.

He shook his head once. "No," he said oddly. "You're right, of course. You would see her." There was a brief pause, and then he offered, "I suppose you don't hear the music, either."

She held very still, but there was nothing. "What music?"

He lifted his head, and his gaze tracked across the horizon toward something unheard in the distance. "The evening revelry," he said softly. There was a dream-like quality to his voice, and she shivered as she realized where he was looking.

He wasn't looking off into the distance. He was looking across the valley toward the castle. Or at least, the direction in which the castle had stood before the valley of the wild zords had been raised into the sky, cutting the Animarium off from the rest of the country.

"Merrick." He didn't so much as twitch at the sound of her voice, and that made her nervous. "Merrick, the castle is gone. There is no revelry."

That got his attention, and he turned to her with a startled look on his face. "Princess. Will you take your evening meal here, then?"

He looked so earnest, so clear, that she tried to make his question make sense. She tried very hard. Unfortunately, the best she could do was, "Excuse me?"

"The revelry echoes from the castle, Princess. We'll miss the beginning of the meal if we don't start back now."

"There is no meal!" she burst out. "There is no meal, no revelry, no castle! Animaria is gone, Merrick!"

"Gone?" Far from understanding, he was giving her an amused look that seemed to indicate he suspected a joke on her part. "Gone in what sense, Princess?"

"Gone!" she repeated. "It--it's..." She stopped as she realized she actually knew very little about the details of Animaria's demise. Merrick had saved the country, after all, and it had lived on long after he had been imprisoned as Zen-Aku. Long after his loss and the draining of the Ancient Warriors' power had made the Animarium irretrievable.

Long after she had gone to sleep, certain his would be the first face she saw upon awakening. Three millennia had passed during the time she had thought would last only days, and the earth had changed almost beyond recognition. It had been Taylor who made her understand that Animaria no longer existed, and her information on the history involved was understandably limited.

"It's just gone," she murmured, troubled by the answers she still didn't have.

"No," Merrick said firmly. "No, Princess, not at all." Then, to her infinite surprise, he took her hand and pulled her toward him. "Come with me," he urged, stepping back. "Come, I'll show you."

He was tugging her along gently, and she couldn't find it in her heart to resist. She let him lead her up the stone stairs carved into the temple's outer wall, wondering if this moment would pass with the abruptness of the others she'd seen back in his room at Willie's. Certainly she preferred his solicitousness to his anger, but the reasons for both were equally baffling.

"Look," Merrick was saying, as he stepped out onto the roof. "See there?" He drew her up beside him, free hand sweeping across the valley to indicate something that only he could see. "Animaria lives, Princess. Strong and victorious."

The war was over, she thought distantly. Whenever he was, whatever period his mind saw, he was between wars somehow. After the battles of the east, and before the resurgence of the Orgs. When the land was fertile and healthy and the animal spirits graced them with an almost constant presence. When the valley where they stood was but one small, protected area of a much larger kingdom, and the castle and its wards dominated the view he indicated.

A view now composed of clouds and sunshine and a vast expanse of blue where the Animarium simply stopped and the skies of this modern earth began.

She lowered her head, prevented from turning away by the hand he still held in his. "I don't see it," she whispered, because she could see it in her mind's eye, the palisades and the towers and the flags flying from the keep. She could see her home, but she saw it for what it was: a memory of something long gone. Nothing more.

She felt tears prick her eyelids, and she shook her head quickly when his gaze turned to her. "I'm sorry, Merrick," she said with more determination. "But there's nothing there."

"Don't cry," he said softly. He didn't even seem to hear her. "You know I'm helpless when you cry."

She closed her eyes, and the movement dislodged the tears that had gathered there. The next thing she knew, gentle fingers were wiping them away and she was paralyzed with indecision. He wasn't himself. She should push him away and try to explain again...

But this tenderness from him was rare to the point of nonexistence lately. She couldn't make herself give it up. Even when she felt his arms enfold her, drawing her close in his embrace without so much as a "May I?" she felt so warm that the thought of letting go gained no ground.

They stood there for a long moment, together on the temple roof in the bright light of a sunset that came later at this altitude. For the space of a single heartbeat, she let herself pretend that they were exactly where he thought they were, back in the land of their birth, back when the respect they two were accorded--both individually and together--meant that nothing was impossible. Back before the wolf and their own grief had come between them.

She felt him shift subtly, and the illusion melted away. Anything could happen now, with no more warning than this. She probably shouldn't let him so close for the sake of her own safety, if for no other reason.

He didn't let her go, but she heard him murmur, "Princess?"

"Don't call me that," she whispered, her fists clenching against his chest.

"I know." His tone was awkward, and not only had he heard her but he had clearly understood what she meant. "I'm sorry."

She lifted her head, drawing back just enough to look him in the eye. "Merrick?" she asked cautiously.

He just nodded, uncertain but unmistakably apologetic.

"I can't tell when you're with me and when you're not," she said with a sigh. "I think I should be able to, but I can't."

His hands squeezed her arms gently, and his gaze dropped briefly in acknowledgement of their position. "Apparently I'm always with you," he said, making no move to let go. She thought there was a hint of humor in his eyes when they met hers again. "It's just a matter of which you I think I'm with."

She bit her lip, touched by the familiarity of his teasing. "Don't call me Princess," she repeated impulsively. "When you're here, now... call me by my name?"

He still didn't move, but his hesitation was obvious. "I'm not sure I can do that--" He stopped, and she heard the title he didn't say. Then, very softly, he spoke as though the gods might strike him down at any moment. "Shayla."

She let out a breath of relief. "Thank you," she murmured. She could only guess how hard that was for him to say.

He sighed, but his mouth quirked upward at the corner in acknowledgement. "I'll try." He looked down again, and the humor vanished. "I'm sorry... for this," he said awkwardly. "For all of this."

She would have given a great deal to know how much "all of this" he meant, but she was resigned to the fact that asking would not provide the answer. Instead she said simply, "I'm not."

When he lifted his head, she added, "Do you remember?"

That made him hesitate. "Just now? I remember... Animaria. I remember being there, I remember..." He stopped. "Comforting you," he said at last.

She didn't move, her attention divided between his words and the hope that he would just keep holding her. They hadn't been so close for so long since... she couldn't remember. And what did that say about their land, she wondered, that its last remaining survivors couldn't even stay close enough for comfort?

"You were so sure that the kingdom had failed," he said slowly, not taking his eyes off of her. Then, with a rueful grimace he muttered, "Of course you were right."

There was nothing she could say to that.

"It doesn't seem quite... real," he added after a moment. "Not the way May seemed, before. That--that was real. It felt real. I knew where I was--I knew when I was..."

"It was as though May was here, instead of you being there," she said.

He looked at her in surprise. "Yes... I think it was."

She thought about that for a moment, but it didn't make anymore sense than anything else had. Giving her head a shake, she remembered her other charge. She should take advantage of Merrick's lucidity while she could.

"The wolf spirit," she said aloud. "He hasn't been well, either. That's the reason I came to find you." Not the truth, but maybe close enough? "I thought perhaps you could see him--he might be more comfortable with you."

Merrick only nodded, as though this were a perfectly reasonable thing to say now. "I'm in the service of the animal spirits, as always."

They didn't make it to the wolf's den. Moon followed them as they walked, and she was momentarily distracted by his presence when Merrick tensed. She didn't see what he saw, but when he snapped at her to get down she did exactly as he said.

It wasn't until he went for a dagger that wasn't there that she realized what was happening. It made her nervous in a way that his behavior earlier hadn't, because if he was remembering a fight then there was no telling how he might react. She called to him, but Moon was the only one who seemed to notice.

She tried again, breaking cover this time, and that got his attention. "Princess, get back," he said harshly. "Go back to the temple!"

"Merrick," she said, trying to stay calm. "Whatever you're seeing isn't real. There's no one here but us. I'm perfectly safe."

"No, Princess." The words were uttered through gritted teeth, and she reminded herself that he had no idea what he was saying. "I decide that, not you. Now go!"

"And where would you have me run?" she asked, daring a few steps toward him. "Is it more likely that an enemy awaits me here than at the temple, where everyone knows I am to be?"

"I know what I'm doing!" Merrick shouted angrily.

She stopped where she was. She wasn't scared of him. But she was scared for him, if he remembered this later. And it seemed that he might. Would this too pass if she simply let him be?

"Why, Princess?" He was staring at her suddenly, paying no attention to the land around them. "Why did you choose me? Out of a hundred men in the Royal Guard, surely my youth and inexperience made me among the least suitable."

He sounded truly, disturbingly present when he asked questions like that. She looked away, unwilling to bear his regard. "You know why," she said softly.

He flung his hand out, as though pointing to something long gone by. "I was just as drunk as he was that night! There were eight of us there and not one worth the uniform he was wearing!"

His hand fell, but she couldn't mistake the disgust in his voice as he declared, "I should have been dismissed, not promoted."

"No," she said quietly. She made herself look up. "You took me home. That's why I chose you."

"You shouldn't have been there in the first place," Merrick muttered.

"I didn't know that," she pointed out. "I think... maybe he didn't either. He was--he made a mistake, Merrick. That doesn't make him--" She swallowed. "It doesn't mean he was a bad person."

She had never admitted that to herself before. Not about him. Not about herself, either. She had made a mistake, too, and she had buried it so deeply that she never had to look at it anymore. There was a reason they hadn't had this conversation before.

Seeing it now, though, as she dredged it up and tried to put it into words... Maybe the decision to accept his somewhat questionable invitation wasn't the evil she had once thought it must be. Maybe it was, after all, just a mistake.

"And me?" Merrick's tone was low, unreadable, and she had no idea when he was now. "What do my mistakes make me, Princess?"

She could ask him the same question, about herself. Clearly her mistakes had made her someone he couldn't forgive. But forgiveness was a human invention, a concept that existed only because its opposite did--the idea of holding a grudge was foreign to the wild zords.

"You're not just a collection of past decisions," she told him, gently and perhaps more cautious than she might have been had she known why he was asking. "To the animal spirits, all that matters is what you are doing now, today."

"Today, Princess?" He sounded dispassionate, drained of all emotion. "And what exactly am I doing today?"

She tried to smile. No matter when he was, there was only one answer to that question. "You're protecting me, of course."

His inscrutable gaze remained fixed on her face. "I'm wanting you," he corrected.

She stared back at him, wondering if she was supposed to hear that feeling in his voice or see it in his expression. It was nowhere that she could sense, and that came as something of a shock. He had never been afraid to speak his mind. If he managed to hold his tongue in polite company, it was only because he gave it free reign when they were alone.

Or she had thought he did so. She had always known there were things he didn't say, topics he wouldn't discuss with her, but she hadn't realized they were so relevant. Only today had she begun to understand that he might have as many unanswered questions as she did. Only now was she beginning to think that their greatest loss might have been what they never were, instead of what they had been.

"That isn't wrong," she said softly. She almost held her breath when she heard the words in her own voice.

Something in his expression changed, and suddenly she recognized him again. For all the familiarity on his face, though, she wasn't prepared for the question. "Isn't it?" he asked quietly. His hesitation was palpable before he finished, "Shayla?"

She shook her head, caught without words and only sure of one thing. She wanted him here now. With her. If it was his guilt that was taking him away, this relentless self-doubt, then she was going to do whatever it took to free him from it.

"No!" His violent exclamation startled her, and when his hands went to his head she hurried to his side. He spun away from her, pulling free when she reached for him and flinging an arm out behind him to keep her back. "Keep talking to me!"

She stared at him, confused by the request as much as by the manner in which he'd made it. He was staring around wildly, eyes focusing on things she couldn't perceive, but his words were unmistakably directed at her. "Say things you never would have said then! Be separate from this madness, Shayla... please!"

She swallowed hard, unnerved and very much afraid for him. "Don't leave me, Merrick. I can't lose you, too. I thought I could, if that was what it took for you to be free, but I was wrong. These last two years have shown me just how wrong I was."

She took a breath, not thinking, not wondering what he would hear or what he might make of it if he did. She responded instinctively to his plea, saying the things she had held back in the hope that one day she would know how to say them better. She told him what she had been afraid to say, in case it disappeared like fairy lights in the sun.

"I love you," she murmured. But it didn't seem to go anywhere, the words falling quiet and unnoticed between them, shadows of sentiment that couldn't compete with everything else he was hearing.

She didn't even think about it, beyond the realization that he might not have heard. She just repeated loudly, "I love you. I've loved you for a very long time, and I've always thought that someday I would know what that meant, but now I think that maybe I can't--not without you to show me."

His eyes had closed, his face a mask of pained concentration. "Don't tell me what I want to hear," he growled. "You are not my fantasy, Princess."

She caught her breath, everything around her retreating rapidly as the entire world narrowed to those few words. Something clutched at her chest. She only barely kept herself from turning away--he needed her now, no matter her feelings, and she couldn't leave him here alone.

"Princess." His voice was suddenly calm and very low. His posture was stiff, and if the pain was gone from him then so was every other hint of expression. "Do you know me?"

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She hadn't known how hard it would be to speak to him after something like that. "I--" She didn't want to stammer, hated the way her voice trembled. "I thought I did."

He took a step toward her and she moved back. No thought, no reason, just a futile denial that he could still reach her. He stopped where he was as soon as she moved.

"I know you," he said, tone quiet and strangely distant. "We met once... in the forest, I think. Do you remember?"

She stared at him, horrified by the implication. "Zen-Aku?"

He lowered his head in a single, solemn nod.

"No," she breathed. "Merrick. Don't do this."

An odd smile twisted his face, and maybe it seemed strange to him too because he lifted his hand to touch his mouth. He tilted his head, his eyes far away. "Merrick," he repeated carefully.

After a moment, he continued, "Yes. Merrick is--"

His face crumpled. There was agony evident in the cry that escaped him, abruptly cut off. This time it was he who stumbled back when she hurried to his side, but she followed as he had not. She caught him, steadying him when he tripped in his haste, slammed into a tree trunk and slid half-dazed to the ground.

Kneeling beside him, she willed his eyes to open, but instead they closed the rest of the way and she was left alone. Alone in the unexpected quiet, with voices she hadn't paid any attention to before. Only now were they coming to the forefront of her awareness, for lack of external competition, and she couldn't say how long she'd been ignoring them.

"I don't see why not," a man's voice was saying. It was a voice that had become much more familiar over the past few weeks. "Birds evolved from lizards."

She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard Taylor respond. "They did not!" The Eagle Ranger didn't bring many people to the Animarium these days: no one who hadn't been a Ranger, and only one who hadn't been chosen by the animal spirits.

She tried to make Merrick more comfortable without completely compromising her own safety should he not be himself when he awakened, and found it was impossible. She would compromise her safety, then. She owed him this now. Moon had crept forward to settle beside her, nosing the still form she held with unmistakable concern.

"How do you know things like that?" Taylor's voice was complaining.

"I went to prep school."

"I went to college!"

"You went to the Air Force Academy. I'm guessing evolution wasn't the main focus of your training."

She had no idea what they were talking about, but it didn't really matter. She knew Taylor would come. Reaching up to touch her necklace, she said, "Taylor. I need help. I'm outside the wolf's den with Merrick."

She didn't need to hear Taylor's response to know that she was already on her way. She sat with Merrick, letting his head rest on her lap until Taylor burst out of the woods nearby. She wasn't surprised to see the leader of the Silver Guardians right behind her.

She was surprised to feel Merrick move, though. She held up her hand, as much to reassure Moon as to halt their advance, and she made no effort to move away from Merrick as he opened his eyes. He stared at her for a long moment before blinking at his immediate surroundings. His gaze took in the three of them hovering over him, and Moon, nosing his other hand curiously, and Merrick sighed.

"This isn't good," he muttered. His voice was rough and his fingers clenched and flexed briefly, but he didn't even try to sit up. "Is it."

She attempted a smile. "No," she agreed quietly, her fingers stroking his hair in an unthinking effort to soothe. "It would seem not."

"What's going on?" Taylor demanded. She hung back, but only barely, clearly torn between impatience and respect. "Are you all right, Merrick? Princess?"

Eric didn't say anything, reserved and uncomfortable--or so she had assumed until a beeping sound indicated the source of his distraction. He was staring at his morpher, left wrist raised, and when the beeping began he lifted his head and stared around intently. Taylor threw him an irritated look over her shoulder, then did a double take when she saw his morpher.

"Is that a temporal disturbance?" she asked. She grabbed his arm when he would have let it fall and frowned at the device on his wrist. "On the Animarium?"

"Princess," Eric said. He didn't answer Taylor's question. "Do you mind if I have a look around?"

"No, of course not." She watched worriedly as Merrick sat up and subtly checked for a dagger that wasn't there. At least he checked the right place this time. His gaze met hers when he didn't find it, and she shook her head.

"Wait, Eric--" Taylor stopped him before he could get more than a few steps away. "That's the direction of the wolf's den. Princess... what were you and Merrick doing there?"

Taylor had always been quick to integrate the new ways and the old. She was grateful for it now as she told her, "The wolf spirit has been affected by something recently. I thought Merrick might be able to help, but it seems that... he isn't well, either."

"That can't be a coincidence," Taylor said firmly. "If the wolf spirit has anything to do with the temporal disturbance, Eric's going to need your help."

Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't have hesitated to offer it. As it was, she frowned at Merrick when he pushed himself to his feet and held out his hand to her. "Shall we go--?"

He didn't say her name, but he left off the "princess." She took his hand, letting him help her up, but she couldn't keep her doubt to herself. "Are you sure you're feeling well enough to accompany us?"

The exasperated look Merrick gave her was nothing less than she'd expected. To her surprise, though, his hand lingered on hers as he said, "Yes, Shayla." He held her gaze evenly. "I'm perfectly well now."

She smiled in spite of herself. "All right then," she murmured, catching Taylor's startled grin out of the corner of her eye. The Eagle Ranger would have questions for her later. She might not have answers, but she did have her name from Merrick now, and that was something.

Her smile faded as she remembered his stinging correction: You're not my fantasy, Princess. His anger seemed far away now, but the words were cold and harsh in her memory. She looked away, avoiding his suddenly worried gaze.

Taylor didn't miss the change in mood. She didn't ask, either. She just led Eric in the direction of the den, pausing only to check his morpher and confirm that they were still headed toward the "disturbance." The Eagle Ranger didn't look back, even when Merrick muttered, "Princess? Is something wrong?"

She stopped, looking at him with a dread that must have been clear on her face, because he said hastily, "Shayla, then. I'm sorry, Prin--" He paused, shaking his head. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "Shayla."

"You don't need to apologize," she murmured. "Habits so old are not easily broken."

"I don't--" He glanced over his shoulder, but Taylor and Eric were a good distance ahead of them by now. "I don't think of you as 'Shayla'," he said, his voice quiet despite their relative isolation. "Even in my head, I think of you as 'Princess'."

She wasn't surprised. She was still disappointed. She stared at the ground, unable to face the answer to the question at the front of her mind: why?

She felt his fingers touch her chin a moment later, and she lifted her head. "I have to," he said quietly. "I say what I think... Shayla." He studied her, and then the hint of a rueful smile graced his expression. "You of all people know that, I think."

She tried to smile back, but she couldn't sustain it.

The brief touch of amusement faded from his face, replaced by a haunted look that she didn't like at all. "I have to be careful what I think," he said. "Because I can't keep myself from saying it. Do you understand?"

He was searching her gaze, maybe looking for some sign of forgiveness. "If I'd thought of you that way..."

"As Shayla?" she asked, when he trailed off. "That's who I am, Merrick."

The smile was back, small and self-mocking though it was. "As a woman."

She stared at him for a long moment. I have to be careful what I think... There were things he didn't discuss with her. Was it possible that he didn't even allow himself to consider the things he didn't voice?

She looked away. "That's who I am," she repeated softly. "I am a woman."

His reply was curt, and this time he didn't hesitate to use her name. "I'm very much aware of that, Shayla."

When she glanced at him in surprise, his tone gentled. "I said I tried not to think about it," he reminded her. "I didn't say I didn't notice."

"Princess?" Taylor's voice was calling them from somewhere up ahead.

Merrick cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted back. "We're coming!"

"Shayla," he added, when she would have started after Taylor. He waited until she looked at him to ask, "Did I say, or... or do something this time? Something that upset you?"

She swallowed. How much had he forgotten? "You said I wasn't your fantasy," she blurted out, then immediately wished she hadn't.

He frowned. She turned away, and again his voice stopped her. "Shayla," he repeated. This time she didn't move. "You are," he said, more quietly.

She hesitated, but a howl from the direction Taylor had gone kept her from answering. Merrick was at her side in a second, and they hurried through the trees toward the wolf's den. Moon was a silent and almost forgotten shadow behind them.

Taylor was reprimanding Eric when they arrived--a not unfamiliar sight, if the truth were told. They both seemed fine, though, so she turned her attention to the wolf. It had been his howl they heard, and if Taylor's comments were any indication, he was in no mood to allow company.

On the other hand, he was more responsive than he'd been when she left. She wondered if that had to do with Eric poking his paw. "That's as close as I can pinpoint the source of the temporal distortion," he said defensively, when Taylor brought it up for the third time.

She looked at Merrick, and he nodded. Edging into the den, he didn't bother to speak, and she wondered if that had been her mistake earlier. The wolf was without a pack now, a loner who seemed content to follow the warrior he had chosen, and perhaps communication was no longer as important to him as it was to some of the other wild zords.

He allowed Merrick's approach without complaint, and although he shifted his weight away when Merrick touched him, his eyes stayed open. Slitted. Watching. Lifting his paw when Merrick's hand slid over it, and even curling his toes under when Merrick tapped them, indicating he wanted to see the bottom of his paw.

She stared in amazement as Merrick looked at the pads of the foot, then gestured for the rest of them to come see. The wolf didn't do more than sigh, a deep exhalation that could have been relief or annoyance. Merrick had just gotten more cooperation from the animal spirit in seconds than she'd gotten in days.

"That's it, all right," Eric was saying, his voice quieter now than it had been before. "Didn't think we'd be seeing any of these up here."

"The wolf leaves the Animarium pretty often," Taylor answered, keeping her voice just as low. "All the Rangers' animal spirits do--right, Princess?"

She nodded, wondering what they were seeing. "Yes... the wolf spirit often--" She hesitated only briefly. "Travels with Merrick. What are you looking at?" she added, wondering if she should crowd in with them.

Eric saved her the trouble. "Your wolf zord's got three fragments of trizerium crystal lodged in the bottom of his paw. We're going to need Jen's help with this."

"Trizerium," Merrick repeated, stepping back to let the wolf lower his paw to the ground again. "The time crystals that you've been hunting?"

"Fuel cells, actually." Eric was eyeing the wolf warily. "Not supposed to be invented for another hundred years. It's their presence in this time that causes the temporal effects."

"I wonder if the wolf knew we were looking for them," Taylor mused. "Maybe he was drawn to them without knowing what they were."

"Or maybe I got close to them and he was trying to protect me." Merrick's hand rested against the wolf's paw, his tone was full of regret.

She hesitated. She wasn't sure she knew enough about this to guess, but she had studied the crystals when Jen's team enlisted the Wild Force Rangers to help with time hole containment a month ago. "Could those pieces of crystal... could they be what's making the wolf spirit sick?"

"It's likely." Eric's reply was short and to the point. "We don't know the effects of prolonged exposure to something outside the timeline."

"But Time Force would," Taylor put in. "They'll want to know about this as soon as possible. Especially if those crystal pieces are going to start opening time holes on the Animarium."

"That could be dangerous." Eric sounded as though the possibility was just occurring to him now. "Princess, you might want to consider leaving the Animarium. At least for now."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "No, I'm staying here, with the animal spirits. I know enough to stay away from time holes, and there's nothing that could come through here that would hurt me."

"Nothing?" Merrick repeated quietly. His gaze was steady on hers when she glanced at him in surprise. "Are you sure of that--Shayla?"

She opened her mouth, then hesitated. The Animarium had been isolated for three thousand years. According to Jen, it would continue that way for at least another millenium. Even before its separation from the earth it had been sacred ground, and she had trouble imagining anything on this land that could threaten her.

Merrick probably didn't, she thought with a sigh.

"Nothing that the wild zords couldn't protect me from," she said at last. "I am not afraid to stay here. And I won't leave the wolf, in any case."

Eric didn't look happy about that, but all he said was, "Will you allow someone who can monitor the crystal shards to be stationed here until we can contact Jen?"

She hesitated. Luckily, Taylor intervened before she could answer. "The princess can do it herself," she said quickly. "She can borrow my detector so we won't have to requisition another one, and I'll show her how to use it. It won't take long."

Eric was frowning. "I'd prefer to have trained personnel monitoring the situation. These shards could interact with the timeline in any number of ways--"

"Fine," Taylor interrupted. "I'll stay and keep an eye on them myself."

This seemed like the perfect solution in many ways, but apparently none of those ways appealed to Eric. "You have plans tonight," he informed Taylor. Which seemed an odd thing to remind her of, since after all, she must be aware of her own schedule.

Taylor just smiled, making it clear that yes, she knew that perfectly well. And that those plans probably involved Eric. "Princess Shayla has plenty of background on temporal effects," she informed him. "There's nothing I can do here that she can't. But if it's so important to have someone with a badge watching the detector screen..."

"Fine," Eric said curtly. "Give her your detector. I'll call Wes and tell him to send a message to Time Force."

Taylor made a face at him as he turned away. Eric didn't seem to notice. Taylor reviewed detector function and anomalies with her while he talked to his headset, and though Eric finished first he didn't come over to offer advice. Merrick stayed where he was, and when she glanced over at him she caught him patting the wolf's paw absently.

He didn't move, even when Taylor made it clear that trying to remove the shards from the wolf's paw themselves could be disastrous. She didn't explicitly say that they should stay away from the wolf. Eric did, but Taylor just shook her head and told them, "The detector's got a pretty good range. It should be able to pick up a time hole anywhere on the Animarium."

"I'm going to stay with the wolf," she told the Eagle Ranger.

Taylor nodded. "I know," she said simply.

Before they left, Eric warned them that Jen might contact them before they heard from him again. Or she might not. Either way, they should be careful around those crystal shards and go nowhere without the detector. "You could walk through a time hole before you even knew it was there," he told them.

Taylor just rolled her eyes, indicating that she thought they knew this already. "Be careful," the Eagle Ranger said, pulling him away. "Call me if anything happens."

"I will," she promised, smiling a little when Eric grumbled over the rough treatment. Taylor was lucky to have someone unafraid to protest. So was her partner.

They both wished Merrick well before they left, though Eric's muttered farewell was cursory as usual. Merrick barely acknowledged it. The two of them didn't know each other that well, even now.

She, on the other hand... well, sometimes she thought she knew him too well. Other times, she thought he was more of a mystery now than he had been the first day they met. The road they'd traveled together had been long--unnaturally so--but perhaps not particularly honest.

It was a failing she meant to set right.

"Merrick," she said quietly. "Will you stay here?"

"For whatever protection I can offer against something I don't understand," he murmured, still staring at the wolf's paw. "Of course."

"I'm safe enough here without you," she said, taking a step toward him. "That's not why I asked."

He lifted his head at last, and the look he gave her was tired and lost. "What do you want from me, Princess?"

She swallowed, unable to answer.

"Shayla." He seemed to realized his mistake immediately. "What do you want from me," he repeated, closing his eyes. "Shayla."

She wanted him to be safe, for him to stay here where no one could hurt him when visions of the past overtook him. She wanted him to be somewhere familiar while the past and the future warred in his mind. But he wasn't asking what she'd meant--he was asking what she wanted.

"I want you... not to hate me," she whispered.

For some reason, that made him smile, although he didn't open his eyes. "I've never hated you."

"But you can't forgive me," she said sadly.

He opened his eyes. "You told me to leave. You made me think you were gone, asleep and unaware, for another thousand years. You sent me away, left me to myself, stranded both of us alone in this foreign world... and for what?

"For what, Shayla?" He lifted his hand from the wolf, fist clenching as he stared her down. "Is this what you want? A lifetime of loneliness in this--this shell? This place is filled with ghosts! Poor companionship for the daughter of the king, for a temple guardian... for the woman who didn't even know what privacy was until I taught you!"

She lowered her gaze, letting out her breath in a sigh. She had known that anger lurked behind his betrayed expression, and she was almost relieved to hear him give it voice. "Poor companionship for anyone," she said softly. "Especially for you, who have no connection to the animal spirits beyond those that chose you."

"Why don't I get to make that choice?" Merrick demanded. "Why is it all right for you to choose a life here and not me? Why is all right for you to choose for me?"

She opened her mouth, but she had no answer but the truth. "I didn't know what I was choosing," she murmured. "I don't want you to make the same mistake."

"I know what I'm choosing," Merrick said fiercely. "I choose you, Princess. Shayla. If it made you happy, I'd be gone before you could ask--but it doesn't! It makes you miserable, and it makes me miserable, and there's no reason for it!"

He was staring at her, and she found she couldn't look away. Even when he relaxed, settling in the place he stood, his voice dropping as he muttered, "That's what I can't forgive."

She wanted to reach out, to touch him somehow, and she couldn't. They were bound to each other in a way she didn't fully understand, and it wasn't enough. She didn't know how to make the connection between them tangible.

Taylor's detector beeped politely in the sudden silence. She knew the sound; she had heard it several times before. Always in the presence of time holes. She looked down at the screen, confident in her ability to interpret its locator display--

Except that it was blank. The beeping stopped the moment she looked at the device, and she frowned. It wasn't registering any anomalous temporal activity. Or at least, it wasn't registering anything now. She was sure it had detected something just a moment ago.

"What is it?" Merrick wanted to know. He had left the wolf's side at last, hovering nearby as she tapped the detector experimentally.

"I don't know," she admitted. Although Taylor seemed to feel that hitting equipment produced results, it didn't seem to be working for her. The detector continued to insist not only that there was nothing amiss, but also that there hadn't been a problem since it was activated.

She should call Taylor, she supposed. The Eagle Ranger had only just left; surely she couldn't be too involved in whatever plans she had for the evening. Or maybe she should simply believe the equipment Taylor had loaned her--it said there was nothing wrong, after all. The alert could have been a minor aberration, one of the glitches Taylor seemed to take great pleasure in enumerating, usually in Eric's presence.

She heard someone calling her name, and she looked up in surprise. Her first thought was that Taylor had forgotten something, and this would be the perfect opportunity to ask her about the detector. Her second thought was that the voice was much too young to be Taylor's.

"Princess Shayla! Princess Shayla, where are you!" A girl's voice, one that was as familiar now as it had been three thousand years ago. Coming from somewhere just outside the den. "Princess Shayla!"

She turned toward the sound instinctively and caught Merrick's startled gaze. She looked for and found confirmation in his expression. He was listening too--and it was a voice he hadn't expected her to hear.

"May," she said. She was almost afraid to identify the voice aloud, for fear of disappointment or ridicule. But Merrick only nodded.

May was calling her name.

3. Saved by the Fall

"Princess Shayla!"

May whirled into the wolf's den without fear, bright colors flying all around her in the shadows. Her face lit up when she caught sight of them. "There you are!" she exclaimed, racing forward with an armful of familiar fabric.

"Your father isn't happy," she said breathlessly. She thrust the favorite cloak out like an offering, not bothering to curtsy. "You must be freezing! Come, the king's guest has arrived early and he's asking for you! I'm to bring you to the banquet after you've dressed. Come!"

She found herself incapable of doing anything but staring at May. Her friend was right there, standing in front of her, a living breathing embodiment of the energy she had always personified. She was perfectly... real.

"Princess," Merrick murmured. He had taken her cloak from May and now he held it open for her, patiently waiting to drape it around her shoulders. As he had so many times before.

She swallowed hard. She longed for the reassurance of her name, but when confronted by this vision herself, she couldn't bring herself to ask. She stepped mutely into the cloak, and he was adept as ever because their fingers didn't so much as touch when she reached up to take the ties from him. Only then did she realize she still held Taylor's detector in her hand.

As soon as she noticed, it was gone. Merrick slid the device from her grasp as though she had handed it to him, allowing her to fasten the cloak. May stood nearby, almost vibrating with impatience, but there was not a word from her about Merrick's appearance or the device they passed between them.

Could she really be here with them, then? Was she just another phantom from Merrick's memory, somehow suddenly solid enough for Shayla to see? The cloak around her shoulders felt real enough, heavy and warm and intricately embroidered with a design that surely no one's memory could recall so exactly. She turned to Merrick, searching his expression for some hint of understanding, but he had lowered his eyes and would not meet her own.

"Lady," he said quietly. "The animal spirits are restless tonight. Please allow the princess a moment to compose herself."

"Oh, of course!" May had never been able to deny Merrick anything, and her eagerness almost made Shayla smile. "I'll be right outside. Hurry, though; the king wants all his daughters at the table before he recognizes the new Guards!"

Just like that, the girl was gone in a swirl of sparkling yellow and violet. In the silence that followed, Merrick lifted his gaze to hers again and for a long moment they just stared at each other. He looked just as pale and tired as he had before, but there was fear in his expression now. She thought she knew how he felt.

"Is she really here?" she whispered. Her cloak slid a little against her bare arms as she moved, and her fingers tightened on the edges of it instinctively. "This is mine... this is the cloak my sister gave me, when I met the deer spirit."

"I remember," Merrick said quietly. He hadn't taken his eyes off of her. "Shayla?"

She knew what he was thinking, because she'd been wondering too. But three thousand years ago, he had never said her name. "I'm real," she murmured. "You must be too, or you wouldn't call me that. But... May?"

"I don't know." Merrick looked down at the detector in his hands. "Does this tell you anything? Could she have come through one of those time holes the others are always talking about? Or--"

He stopped abruptly, and she couldn't help but smile as she held out her hand for the detector. "Or are your hallucinations contagious?" she teased gently. "I'm starting to think maybe they are."

The slight softening of his expression was worth the feeble attempt at humor. When she consulted the device Taylor had left, though, she found no evidence of any kind of temporal distortion. Could Taylor have been wrong? Maybe the detector's range didn't cover the entire Animarium after all.

"It's not picking up anything," she said, for Merrick's benefit. "Maybe there's a time hole somewhere else on the Animarium, somewhere the detector can't reach."

"We'll have to look," Merrick muttered. "Let's hope May isn't waiting for us when we leave."

She was. May spun as soon as they emerged, a bright smile on her face as she darted forward. "Are you all right now? There's still time to get back if we hurry! I've already told the girls to lay out your dress, and they were to leave something to eat if you were too late for dinner--are you ready?"

She glanced at Merrick uncertainly, but he was staring straight ahead again, apparently willing to let her deal with the situation any way she would. She hesitated. If May tried to take them back to the castle, surely they would just run into the edge of the Animarium? It seemed as good a way as any to look for time holes... and May might be more willing to listen if she was confronted by undeniable proof of where she was. Or when.

"Yes," she said after a moment. She smiled at her friend, uncomfortable in her presence in a way she hadn't expected, but it was still May. Even after all this time, there was so much they had shared. "Shall we go?"

Merrick said nothing, following them along the valley paths as though today was no different from any other. At least, no different from any other day back then. She wondered how she would ever explain the future to May. Maybe she should call Taylor back... the Eagle Ranger had shown her the world, as it was now, and she might be willing to help May understand too.

If they couldn't find the time hole, of course. Or some other way to send her back. There must be one. Eric had once implied that she herself could travel back to Animaria if she wished. The idea of going alone, however, had been unthinkable.

She was so preoccupied by her thoughts that she didn't notice they were climbing out of the valley until the eagle spirit screeched by overhead. The eagle wasn't an evening predator, and the sound made her look up. The massive bird came so close that the currents of air stirred by its passing tossed her hair back from her face, and she smiled at its greeting.

The smile faded as she realized what she was seeing. There, spread across the hillside ahead of them, was the castle's outer ward. She stopped in her tracks, staring at the place where only sky had been before. She turned around, but the valley of the wild zords lay unchanged behind her. On its other side she could see the land stretching out toward the horizon, a stretch of verdant green unmarred by magical scars.

"Merrick," she whispered. She put out a hand, reaching for him without seeing, unable to believe what lay in front of her.

He was at her side in an instant, taking her hand and supporting her as though she might fall at any moment. "Lady," he said quickly. "A moment, if you please." May took a few steps onward without question, turning away from them.

"Merrick?" She stared at him, relieved when he met her gaze.

"Princess," he murmured. "I didn't expect this."

She exerted some amount of effort to keep herself from laughing aloud. "Merrick--" She broke off when her voice trembled, then tried to speak more quietly. "Tell me that I'm not going mad."

That brought an unexpected smile to his face. "Shayla," he breathed, so softly that even she could barely hear him. "If you're mad, then the only comfort I can offer is that you're not alone."

That was comfort indeed, though she didn't tell him so. "Do we continue on?" she murmured, trying to steady herself. "To the castle? Or back to the Animarium?"

He shook his head. "I don't know," he whispered. "But--" Merrick hesitated, and his hands turned out in a subtle gesture of helplessness. "I can't go into the castle dressed like this."

She bit her lip. They hadn't yet passed the magical boundary at the edge of the valley, but she wasn't sure what was real here and what wasn't. She freed one hand from under her cloak and held it out experimentally, only a little reassured when a circlet of flowers appeared around her wrist.

She reached for Merrick, ignoring his surprise, and laid her hand gently on his shoulder. Blue sparkles rained down over his long sleeves, his t-shirt, his pants and his boots, transforming the clothes as they fell. In their wake, they left the uniform of the Royal Guard, emblazoned with the insignia of a personal protector.

Merrick was staring now. The question, when it came, wasn't "how" but instead "how long." "How long have you been able to do that?" he whispered.

"Since I woke up," she murmured. "Only on the Animarium. Like the listening."

She could hear anyone in the temple from anywhere on the Animarium. The Rangers all knew and took advantage of it. One of them must have told him, because he used it too and she had never mentioned it to him. Apparently, though, he had never asked them where she got the clothes she wore when she left the Animarium now.

He nodded slowly. His voice was louder now, maybe audible to May when he asked, "Are you well enough to continue, Princess?"

She made a face at him without thinking, and for just a moment she saw amusement in his eyes. Then he was looking away, May had dropped back to ply her with questions about her health, and they were moving slowly toward the castle again. She couldn't truthfully answer any question that May put to her, since she had no idea what was wrong with either of them.

There was something wrong, wasn't there? How could they be seeing what they were seeing? How could they be talking to a person three thousand years gone?

Was it they who had gone through the time hole, rather than May?

She found no answers as they passed quickly through the gate, the guards deferring to Merrick's uniform as though he was... exactly who he was. It made her uneasy now as it hadn't back then--she felt like an imposter waiting to be discovered. No matter how familiar this seemed, she couldn't shake the feeling that they shouldn't be here. Wherever or whenever "here" was.

She balked when May tried to leave Merrick at the doors to her rooms. "No," she insisted. "He has no other duties during the banquet. He must come inside and wait."

This drew no visible reaction from Merrick, but she wasn't about to get any farther from him than she had to. Everything around her was exactly as it had been three thousand years ago--the people, the conversations, the buildings--and the only confirmation she had that none of this was right came from Merrick. She wouldn't let them be separated.

May didn't argue, of course, and so Merrick waited in the outer rooms while they went inside. When she saw the dress that had been laid out for her, she almost called him in after them. It came rushing back with terrifying clarity: the tournament, the news of the war, and the obligations she had overlooked in order to get him away.

She didn't know why they were here, but she knew exactly when "here" was.

May wasn't immune to her distress, but what could she say? She tried to reassure her friend as best she could. She was utterly certain, however, that they were indeed the imposters she had feared, and at any moment they could be revealed. May had come looking for her and Merrick at the temple... and she had found the wrong Shayla and Merrick.

She sent May away when she was finished dressing. "Go, enjoy the banquet," she told her friend. "I promise, I'll be along as soon as I eat something. You know my father will have had the table cleared by the time I get there."

"Only if you really promise," May said, but she was already inspecting her own hair with her fingers and spinning around to retrieve her cloak. "If anyone asks, I'm going to tell them exactly where you are! I'll say, 'I brought her back from the temple, and she was dressed when I left her so I can't imagine what could be keeping her now!'"

"I'll be there," she repeated with a smile. "I will. Tell Merrick to come in when you leave, if you would?"

"I'm sure he won't need an invitation from me," May said impishly. She fastened her cloak and flew toward the door before Shayla could answer. "I'd best see you at the banquet, Princess!"

She closed the door behind her, and there was a long moment of muffled sound and stifling familiarity. This was the past. She remembered this, she remembered the time, the day, and she knew she shouldn't be here. Yet at the same time... there was something about this that made the other seem like the dream.

Then the door opened and Merrick strode into the room. He left it open behind him and took a knee in front of her, as was proper. But it was only a formality--the other girls were gone, dismissed to the evening meal, leaving the outer rooms empty and they two alone inside. May should not have left her here, in such intimate company with her protector, but with the entire castle caught up in the festivities of the day, who would notice?

"I should not be here, Princess." Merrick's voice was low, pitched for her ears only despite their isolation. For a moment she worried that he had somehow succumbed to the spell of the time, perhaps caught up in the memory as he had seemed in the future.

When he lifted his head, though, the illusion was lost. The fatigue that clung to his features only accented the worry in his eyes, and she knew he saw her. He didn't even have to say her name. She could see it on his face.

"Neither of us should be," she countered softly, running her hands over the fabric of her dress. "This is the dress I was to wear for Animus, Merrick."

Dread suffused his face. Dread, but not comprehension. Not yet.

"Tonight?" he murmured, not moving. "Animus is the guest May spoke of?" When she nodded, he jerked his gaze away to stare down at the floor. "I can't--I don't think I can face him."

"Which is why you're at the temple, with me," she said quietly. "May came to find us when my father realized I intended to skip the banquet. Only she found you and me instead. I always wondered why so little fuss was made over our absence."

Merrick was frowning, but the intensity of his regard produced nothing from the floor. Finally he looked up at her. "We're here? There? We were there in the temple just now? You're saying--we're really here, in our own past."

"There must have been a time hole that we didn't see," she mused aloud. "It's the only thing that makes sense. We're in Animaria now. And we're here the night we weren't."

He seemed to follow this odd reasoning. Whether he agreed or not, it seemed he was willing to indulge the idea. "When were we--"

Merrick broke off in mid-sentence, and all expression drained from his face. "Animus," he said flatly. "This is that fair day. The one you missed because of my father."

"The one I skipped because of you," she corrected gently. "I counted myself lucky that you allowed me to do this small thing for you."

"It was no small thing," he muttered, still on one knee. He stared up at her, all the expression he had lost earlier rising in his eyes. "It was everything."

"Rise, Merrick." It seemed such a strange thing to say, now, but he seemed likely to stay as he was forever if she didn't. He stood smoothly and she was looking into bewildered blue eyes, his expression at odds with the ease of his actions.

"I did only what I could that night," she said wistfully. It had been a decision easily made, without consideration of the consequences. She would make the same decision again. "I wished it could have been more."

"It was everything," he repeated softly. A small smile twisted the corner of his mouth, and he added, "Now, it seems, we're being given a chance to cover for ourselves?"

"Maybe," she admitted. She hadn't thought of it in quite that way.

His smile softened until there was actual affection in it, and she let it warm her without regret or shame. "Shayla," he said, very quietly. Her name prompted a return smile from her. "I don't know what we're doing here, or even how we got here. This," he added, producing Taylor's detector from somewhere on his person, "means almost nothing to me.

"But if this is the day you say it is, then you're giving up a lot for me right now." His gaze was steady on hers. "The celebrations, a meeting with Animus, your father's approval... well.

"If I can give you even part of that back," he said with a sigh, "I'd like to try."

"Anything I gave you I gave of my own free will," she reminded him. "You never owed me anything, Merrick."

That made him smile again. "Shayla," he said deliberately. "I've owed you more than you ever acknowledged for a very long time. Allow me to make this gesture of gratitude, if I may, and escort you to the banquet tonight."

She felt a smile tugging at her lips. "I must admit," she murmured, "it would be a pleasure to hear real music again."

"And to eat real food," Merrick agreed, giving the meal her girls had left a none-too-subtle glance. It made her laugh, suddenly, remembering the way he had always eaten. She'd had so little opportunity to observe him of late.

"Please," she said. "Help yourself."

He did, and she watched for as long as she thought he could tolerate. He tried to get her to join him, but she wasn't hungry, and she didn't think she could eat even if she was. It was a dangerous game they were playing here. All it would take was one or both of them returning from the temple before she remembered them doing so, and weapons would be drawn.

She drifted through her rooms, touching things, remembering, while Merrick finished off the food brought up from the kitchens. She'd never been able to say goodbye. It was hard to be here, now, and to know that she would leave with little more than a backward glance. She had spent her whole life here--and she had lost it all in a few days, in the closing of her eyes, in the vanishing blur of the millennia.

Was it any wonder that she didn't like to sleep?

A sound from the doorway made her look up, and she found her protector lounging against the doorframe. The strangest sense of something already seen overtook her, for surely she had never seen Merrick here like this. His next words confirmed it. "I don't think I've ever been in this room before," he said quietly.

"Nor have I seen where you sleep," she responded with a smile. And that was true in the past, if not in the future, for she had been in his room at Willie's often enough when the Org battles were at their worst.

"It's nothing exciting." He made no move to come inside, not even to straighten from his position by the door. "A protector's billet. Nothing more."

"I suppose you spent more time in my rooms than in your own," she murmured.

He inclined his head. "As it was intended."

She drew in a breath, setting down the object she held. They should go. They might already be too late for the king's recognition of the new Guards. Her sisters would be there, even if she was not, but her father had sent May for her and she had no wish to get her friend in trouble.

"What is that?" Merrick asked, before she could say so aloud. He was looking at the ring she had just put down, and her gaze followed his. She touched the jewelry wistfully once more.

"My mother's engagement ring," she said. "I was the only one unmarried when she died, and so it came to me." She tried to smile and found she couldn't. "It always reminded me--"

She broke off, shaking her head. Her voice was gone, and she had to swallow before she could continue. "We should go," she whispered.

Merrick had flowed into the room before she even saw him move. "Shayla," he said softly, coming to a halt in front of her.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she felt silly for mourning something so long and unavoidably lost. She reached out blindly, laying her hand against his chest, and she felt the protector's emblem under her fingers. His hand came up to cover hers and she closed her eyes.

She felt his gentle touch on her shoulder, and she stepped into his embrace without a thought. His uniform made him stiff and uncomfortable to hold, but she had never known what she was missing until he exchanged it for the minimal layers of the future. She had never thought she would miss that ubiquitous grey t-shirt the way she did now.

"You have another life now," he was saying, voice low as it tickled her ear. "The Wild Force Rangers, and Time Force... the animal spirits... you're not alone, Shayla. Never alone."

But I am. She still couldn't speak. She just squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in his shoulder, knowing he had been right when he called the Animarium a shell. Seeing it here, it the midst of what once was, she could see it for what it had become. It was a relic, an ancient tribute to a forgotten time... a place that would keep her isolated from the future for as long as she hid behind it.

He just held her, one hand stroking her back gently, and that quiet intimacy released the tears that all her memories had not. She clung to him, trying to cry in silence, knowing that she had failed when his arms tightened around her and he laid his head against hers. He still didn't say anything.

Finally she loosened her hold on him, not because she wanted to, but because she thought she must. They couldn't stand there forever. And they had already disappeared once... better if May had never found them, she thought with a sigh. How could they leave now, when everyone would already believe them back from the temple?

"This is a bad idea," she whispered. She couldn't meet Merrick's eyes. Her entire family would be at the banquet. All of her friends. All of his friends. Everyone who had meant anything to them was now waiting on their arrival, and she didn't think she could even face May again.

"Some of the best things in my life began as amazingly bad ideas," Merrick murmured. It took her a moment to realize that he was making a joke, and she lifted her gaze to his in surprise. He was smiling at her. "Including meeting you, as I recall."

She swallowed. "Yes," she said, grateful when her voice rose above a whisper. "That idea may have been worse than this."

He touched her face gently, running his thumb across her cheek. "You did nothing wrong," he said quietly.

This time, she almost managed to smile. "I was as wrong then as I'm about to be now," she said, straightening her shoulders. "I hope it works out half as well."

He nodded once, the pretend bow that had once been so familiar, and gave her an assessing look before reaching out to her again. "You'll want to wash your face, I think." The remark was matter-of-fact, but his touch was gentle as he tweaked a curl away from her face and adjusted the flowers in her hair. "If only to make you appreciate the luxury of running water."

She blinked, careful not to move until he lowered his hand. He was joking again. He had always seemed more serious in the future, his trademark irreverence subdued by time and the circumstances surrounding his awakening. But here he was again, the Merrick she had known before... and he made her smile.

He also made her wash her face. She wasn't about to ignore his advice when he was the only mirror she had. He teased her by playing with her hair the whole time, until finally she slapped his hand away and to her utter surprise, Merrick laughed aloud.

"I don't often get to see you like this," he offered, smile lingering when he saw her expression. "I'm sorry if I presumed." He didn't sound as though he thought he had.

"No--" She reached out, touching his silver bangs impulsively. "No, you didn't."

He was still smiling. She didn't think about it, just let her fingers trail across his face, and he surprised her again by leaning into her caress. He lifted one hand to press hers against his cheek, then turned his head to kiss her palm. She caught her breath, startled and shy and speechless all at once.

"How about now?" he asked quietly. He hadn't taken his eyes off of her.

She just shook her head, quite sure that words were still beyond her.

He lowered her hand carefully. "We should go."

She opened her mouth, but she couldn't think of anything to say. Had he just kissed her? He had, she was certain--Merrick had kissed her, and she couldn't get her mind around it. She could still feel his lips against her skin. Her fingers twitched involuntarily.

Then Merrick was holding her cloak for her, and offering her his arm, and they were on their way to the banquet before she even remembered where they were going. The delight chased away the nostalgia she might otherwise have felt in the familiar halls and stairways, and her self-consciousness was forgotten by the time they emerged into the sunset light of the inner ward. She had her protector at her side, after all.

The herald who called out their names waited until they were halfway to the tables to do it, and for once she was glad of the delay. It allowed her time to see before she was seen, to take in the sight of her family before all their eyes turned toward her. She didn't let go of Merrick until she had to, but before she could sit down her father gestured for her to approach.

She curtsied, keeping her eyes on the ground a little longer than necessary as a way of delaying looking at his face. But she had to, of course, and the shock of seeing her father again after all this time brought her back to the moment. She was actually here, surrounded by her family, for possibly the last time in her life.

"Shayla, my dear, how are you feeling?" her father was asking. There was no anger for her tardiness, only concern in his expression and his voice. "May told us you weren't well."

She realized she was staring, and a smile crept across her face when his gentle question finally penetrated. "No, Father, I'm fine," she promised. "I'm only tired, I think. Perhaps I've been spending too much time at the temple." That was inarguably true, on every level.

"Perhaps," he allowed. He patted her hand, returning her smile, and added, "Just don't let Animus hear you say that, hmm?"

She looked around quickly, sure she would have noticed the lord of the wild zords at the table if he were there. He wasn't--although she did catch sight of Merrick as her gaze wandered, already eating and talking with the guards at the other end of the table. He leaned over to exchange words with the man beside him, and his eyes met her for just a moment before sliding away as though he hadn't noticed.

"He's up there," her father was saying. "Getting ready to administer the oaths. Sit down, have something to eat, my dear. If you're still feeling light-headed afterwards, I'm sure Animus will understand if you retire early."

She nodded, only hesitating a moment before she leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Of course, Father," she murmured. "Thank you."

Taking her place at the table was truly an experience out of time. As the youngest daughter, she took the seat that had been left for her between her sisters and her brother's wife. They welcomed her with varying degrees of sympathy and curiosity, turning soon to stories of the banquet and the tournament before when she insisted that a good night's sleep would fix all her ills.

Her sister slipped her a sweet roll under the table, whispering that there wouldn't be any left in the kitchens later with the way they'd disappeared. Her brother's wife poured her wine to go with dessert, and she had no intention of touching the drink but it was a courteous gesture nonetheless. As the banquet wore on, though, they kept talking and touching her and trading stories of things she had never thought to hear mentioned again, and she found that she needed something to soothe her throat when the tears threatened.

She wavered between tears and laughter for most of the evening, in fact. One of her sisters finally noticed that she was drinking the wine without eating anything to go with it, and it was taken away from her until she agreed to a second dessert. Once their meddling affection might have irritated her, but tonight it only made her smile. The wine seemed to help, too, although she knew better than to ask for more.

By the time the new Guards were taking their oaths, her emotions had settled a little, and she dared to look around for Merrick. Somewhat to her surprise, his end of the table was paying the ceremony less attention than her family gave it. Merrick actually seemed to be listening to someone beside him, though his eyes--like everyone else's--were trained on the new Guards.

She couldn't help remembering his earlier complaints about his own oath. She wondered, possibly for the first time, what exactly it had involved. Personal protectors took an additional oath, privately, away from the prying eyes of crowds like this. She had always assumed the oath was... well, personal. That it was simply a way of giving a member of the Royal Guard higher priorities than castle defense. That it was just a vow to serve one person in particular, instead of the royal family as a whole. But...

That vow takes everything you give it, Princess. Merrick's voice, with all its remembered harshness, reminded her of what she'd never thought to ask. What had he sworn when she chose him as her protector? Was the magic strong enough to bind him even now, so many lifetimes later? And if so, to bind him to what?

These oaths were ordinary enough. A promise to defend the family, to stand, to serve, and to obey. They were nothing she hadn't heard before, and she applauded the newly minted Guard members along with everyone else when they were done.

Her father stood to recognize the new soldiers. The entire court followed suit. She looked to Merrick again at that moment, but he was paying no attention to her.

Afterward, her sisters left the table one by one, joining their husbands in the entertainment that followed the banquet, and she found herself the last member of her family remaining beside her father. She could have gone off to dance or sing or just to mingle with the other members of the court, as she had so many times before. But tonight, it seemed overwhelming enough to simply sit and watch, to see something so familiar and yet so foreign.

She moved to sit closer to her father when it became clear that her sisters weren't coming back, and he smiled at her in welcome. They spoke little, but his had always been a steadfast presence in her life. Even seeing the revels around her, knowing they were only an ephemeral joy that she would take for granted until it was gone, she couldn't think the same of her father. She couldn't see him gone. Somehow she imagined him living on into the future, his spirit still with her after all this time.

Finally he leaned over and declared his intent to find a more comfortable seat from which to watch the proceedings. She was welcome to join him, he said. And as the only unmarried daughter, she knew she could take the queen's place at his side if she wished. She almost agreed--until she caught Merrick's eye, and saw again the haggard look that even firelight could not disguise.

She murmured that she would, after all, retire early, and her father nodded his assent. "I'll tell Animus you've gone," he told her. "Be sure to have someone alert your servants so you're not all alone this night."

"No, there's no need," she said quickly. "Merrick will escort me to my rooms, where I intend only to sleep. I'll see you in the morning, Father."

"Certainly, my dear." His affectionate smile broke through her resolve, and she leaned in to kiss him one last time before she took her leave.

Merrick was at her side before she'd taken more than a step away from the table. She didn't look for his arm and he didn't offer it, instead following her silently across the ward until they reached the shadows of the castle wall. There she turned without entering, taking refuge in the dimness as she stared out at the sea of celebration.

"Did we lose this?" she asked abruptly. She kept her voice quiet, so quiet that maybe he wouldn't even hear her over the sound of the people and the music and the fires that towered, high and bright against the blackness of the sky. "Or did we gain something more?"

His voice came from somewhere behind her--no closer than she'd expected. "Can it not be both, Princess?"

She turned around, and she could see the surprise on his face at her action. She stared into his eyes and he didn't look away. "Were you happy here, Merrick?"

He hesitated, but he didn't move. "As happy as I am anywhere, I suppose."

She held his gaze, silently asking for the truth.

"Yes," he admitted after a moment. "I was happy here... with you."

"So was I," she murmured, looking out at the ward one more time. Then she straightened her shoulders and asked, "Will you walk with me?" It was a question, not a command, though she had no doubt that he would agree.

"Of course, Princess."

This time she did take his arm, and she was grateful for the connection. She didn't know if it was the food, or the wine, or more than anything the shock of being in the castle again after so many years of being resigned to its loss. But she hadn't only been making excuses when she said she needed some peace and rest.

Merrick, somehow, provided both with nothing more than his presence.

When they reached her rooms, however, he paused by the doors. "There will be no one inside," he reminded her quietly. "I should not enter with you."

She bit back her immediate protest. "Then," she said instead, "take me to your room."

She thought the absurd request might be enough to make him agree. It was, after all, far easier to explain his presence in her rooms than it would be to explain hers in his. In fact, she was quite sure there was no explanation whatsoever for the latter.

The look he gave her was more amused than exasperated. "That is a truly foolish notion," he said, very quietly. "And you know it."

She smiled at his open defiance. "Join me here, then. I will not have us separated, and it is early yet to return to the temple. If we are to search for a way back, it must be after we have left."

He looked at her for a moment. "We should leave before we return," he pointed out, and the humor she had seen earlier still lurked in his expression. "Or the guards at the gatehouse will be confused."

"It's early yet," she repeated. Pushing the doors open, she added, "Please, Merrick. There is something I want to ask you."

She heard him sigh, and the sound brought the smile back to her face. No matter their surroundings, he was still the man she knew. And one she still hoped to know better.

Her rooms were indeed empty--she went through and checked them all--but someone had been there, because the remains of her meal were gone and her nightclothes had been laid out on the bed. It surprised her to realize that she missed these quiet signs of human companionship. Even when there was no one in sight, she had always known that someone was there.

She turned to leave her bedchamber and came up short. For all Merrick's reluctance to enter, there he was, lounging in the doorway just as he had before. "I think you should take your mother's ring," he said, before she could speak.

She stared at him in surprise. "What?"

His expression didn't change. "You brought nothing with you when I took you to the temple," he said. "That last time... you traveled empty-handed. Because I told you that you would be back. That it was only a temporary measure, necessary to ensure the people's peace of mind--"

"Merrick, stop." She wouldn't let him shoulder this burden, too. "You didn't tell me I would be back. You told me that you would be. And you are."

He shook his head, but at least he didn't look away. "You didn't even get a chance to say goodbye."

"Through no fault of yours," she insisted. "You lost more than I did that day."

He held his hands out to his sides in a gesture she didn't understand until he said, "You've been able to do this since you woke up?" His pointed gaze swept over his uniform before returning to her. "You gave up your humanity as surely as I did, Princess."

She opened her mouth, troubled by the implication that the curse had taken more than his identity. Troubled by the thought that it lingered on him still, if Zen-Aku was speaking to her through him in the future. Or maybe... perhaps most of all, troubled that she had banished him from the Animarium for something that hadn't been true for more than three thousand years.

"Take something with you this time," he said softly. "To assuage my guilt, Shayla, if for no other reason."

She drew in a breath. "Will you tell me something?"

Something unidentifiable flickered in his expression. "Anything."

"What oath did you give before you became my protector?"

He didn't move. "You must know."

She shook her head.

"I swore to protect you," he said flatly. There was no trace of the anger and bitterness that had laced his tone when he spoke of his oath in the future. "Before all others."

She hesitated, suddenly aware that she couldn't press without telling him why. Why couldn't she just accept that? Why did she think there had to be more? And why was it so important to her now?

"Why do you ask?" He was watching her carefully, his expression a little softer now. Closer, maybe. "Not because of the ceremony tonight."

"No," she admitted quietly. She sighed, meeting his gaze again. "Something you said... in the future. About your oath--you said, 'it takes everything you give it.' I don't know what you meant by that."

He was very still. "Did I say that... today?" he asked at last.

She just nodded.

There was another long moment of silence, and then he shook his head. "You'll have to tell me," he muttered. "Tell me what we were talking about at the time, because I don't remember. I don't know what I meant."

She tried to take a deep breath, felt it catch in the back of her throat. "I can't," she said, shaking her head. She looked away so she wouldn't see the dismay on his face. "It's not important."

"Princess." It turned out that she didn't have to see it when she could hear it in his voice. He paused, though, and she thought he might relent. But then he added, more quietly, "Please, Shayla."

She couldn't refuse. "You asked," she whispered, "whether or not Dakura meant the oath as you did. You asked whether he gave me everything you did. If--" Her voice trembled, and she swallowed hard. "You asked if I knew how you had suffered for his mistakes."

When he didn't answer, she lifted her head and found that he was leaning against the doorframe with his eyes closed. At first she thought there was something wrong, that he wasn't well, but then he stirred. "I'm sorry," he muttered. Opening his eyes, he told her, "I wish I hadn't said that to you."

She meant to reassure him, she meant to say that it was done and he shouldn't worry about it now, but what came out was, "I wish I knew what you meant."

For a moment, she thought he wasn't going to tell her. Then he muttered, "The oath is simple. But it doesn't mean the same thing to everyone."

She didn't dare move, waiting to see if he would continue.

He was looking at her again, the haunted look that she hated. "We swear to protect someone, at any cost, up to and including our own life." He paused, and she couldn't see anything past that expression. "But to protect them from what? That part of the oath is implicit. Some--" He swallowed. "Some people interpret it differently than others."

When it became clear that he was waiting for her response, she asked tentatively, "And you? How do you interpret it?"

He sighed, lifting one hand to push his hair back in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture. "The day I gave that oath, Princess... it was immediately after you chose me. You had no official guard in--in his absence, and your father wanted someone as quickly as possible. It was all..."

"It was done in a hurry," she said when he trailed off. Oddly, she felt calm in the face of his discomfort. "I remember."

"I didn't know you then," he insisted. "I met you that night, and I didn't see you again until after the ceremony... it happened so quickly," he muttered. "I didn't know you at all." He seemed almost desperate that she understand this.

"I didn't know you either," she said quietly. "I was just trying to fix everything... It was another rash decision on my part, I'm afraid."

"I swore to protect you." He was staring at her, and she didn't understand the anguish she saw on his face at all. "From everything, Shayla. I wasn't thinking, I didn't know--it seemed so reasonable at the time. When I said I would keep you from all harm, I meant everything. Intentional or accidental, physical or... otherwise."

She tried to smile, worried by his intensity. "No one can protect someone from everything, Merrick."

"No one told me that," he said softly, his words no less serious for the change in tone. "I wasn't that much older than you were. All I could think of was that night and how wrong it all was and how it could never happen again. Not to a princess of Animaria... not when I could be there to stop it."

"And it hasn't," she murmured, at a loss. What was so terrible about that?

"Don't you see," he insisted, "I didn't just swear to swear to keep you from harm! I swore to protect your heart!"

He lowered his head, muttering hopelessly, "And then I lost mine to you."

Now she had to smile, touched and thoroughly warmed by his declaration. "All these years," she said gently, "you've done a fine job of protecting my heart."

"No," he countered. He still refused to meet her eyes. "Every time I've hurt you, every time I've made you cry... I've broken my vow as your protector."

"Merrick..." The smile faded, and she shook her head. "You never have. That couldn't have been the intent of the oath."

"The way the oath is taken," he told the floor. "It senses your intent. Animus senses your intent, and binds you to it. I admit--"

He looked up suddenly, searching her face. "I sometimes wondered what he thought of my intent that day. I thought... he might have known what happened. I thought you--he--might have expected me to swear as I did."

"No," she said softly. "Animus never knew. At least," she corrected, "I never told him. And I didn't--Merrick... I never would have asked more of you than you were willing to give."

"But I was willing," he replied, just as quietly. "I gave you everything without a moment's hesitation. Animus wouldn't have let me do it if it wasn't what I wanted."

She was afraid to say that he must have regretted it since. She didn't want to hear him agree.

"As I came to know you," he said after a moment, "I began to realize that my vow would be more complicated than I'd thought. To protect you from harm," he added, with a mocking half-smile, "I understood that I would also have to protect you from me."

She shook her head in mute denial. It was a ridiculous idea, one that didn't even deserve consideration. She didn't want to be protected from Merrick. Not from anything about him.

He straightened suddenly, all expression gone from his face. He held up a hand to her, and she stilled immediately. Was there someone else here?

Then she heard it too: a sound from the outer rooms, the opening and closing of a door. One of the girls, she wondered? She could only hope it was May. Merrick shouldn't be in her bedchamber at all, and after the scandal with her first protector...

The sound of heavy footsteps preceded her unannounced visitor, and her eyes widened. Not a girl's slippers. Merrick's dagger was in his hand as he slipped behind the doorway and shot her a quick glance. She pointed to the wall, but he shook his head. She was out of line of sight from the door, and moving in this dress would inevitably make a sound.

The footsteps paused outside the inner door. Merrick must have closed it behind him when he followed her in here. She didn't have time to think about what that meant before a gentle knock sounded on the door.

They exchanged glances again. There was a different kind of panic between them now, because if it wasn't an intruder, then it was someone who had the right of access. There would be no hiding Merrick's presence from a family member.

"Shayla?" It was a man's voice that called softly from the other side of the door. "Are you awake?"

She put her hand over her mouth. Not a family member after all. And not someone who could be in any way deceived, either.

"Yes," she called, knowing there was nothing else to do but tell the truth. "Come in, Animus."

Merrick didn't put his dagger away until the door opened and it was clear that it was in fact Animus who had requested entrance. Then he took a knee, lowering his eyes, and the man's knowing gaze swept from her to Merrick and back again. "I would not have admitted me," he remarked, closing the door behind him. "Under the circumstances."

"You knew we were here," she said, staring at the floor as she curtsied. "It seemed foolish to hide it."

A gentle breeze tugged at her hair, and she lifted her head in surprise. Animus was studying her openly. "You are not the guardian I know," he said. "And yet you are. Can you explain this?"

She looked down at the floor again, caught completely unprepared. Of course she could explain it. But could she do it in a way that made any sense at all?

"Princess," Merrick said softly. "If I may."

"Of course," she murmured, knowing he might not see her nod.

"Animus," he told the floor. "Your princess is at the temple tonight out of concern for me. My princess is here... also, I'm afraid, out of concern for me. I know it seems impossible, but I believe that by tomorrow we will be gone and only the people you know will remain."

The air stirred around him this time, and she could see it ruffle his hair. "I see," Animus said at last. "Rise, Merrick. And tell me, if you will, whether or not the name Lady Jennifer means anything to you?"

Merrick stood, keeping his eyes respectfully lowered. "It does, Animus."

She tried not to smile in relief, but she was sure some of it came through in her expression anyway. "It is a name familiar to you as well," Animus observed, and she nodded once.

"Well." She heard him turn, and the door opened again. "Lady Jennifer? Will you join us now?"

She lifted her head in time to see Jen precede the lord of the wild zords into her bedchamber. She was dressed as a noble, an outland cape fastened around her shoulders, and she moved with an approximation of a lady's careful grace. She swept her skirt aside in a deep curtsy as soon as she entered the room and she addressed only Shayla. "Forgive me for disturbing you, Princess."

Animus was watching her with an amused expression. "I do not know you," he remarked. From anyone else, it would have been an idle comment, at most an invitation, but from him it was a matter of utmost curiosity. Animus knew everyone.

Merrick spoke without asking this time. "She has come to resolve the discrepancy you spoke of, Animus."

Animus didn't take his eyes off of "Lady Jennifer," who remained facing Shayla. Her posture was relaxed and her eyes were downcast. "I seek your assurance, then," Animus told her, "that no harm will come the guardian of my temple or her protector."

"By tomorrow," she said calmly, "everything here will be as it was."

Animus seemed to darken. "That is not what I asked, Lady Jennifer."

She didn't move. "I can't promise what I don't know, my lord. All I can tell you is that I will do everything in my power to ensure their safety."

"Jen--" She stopped when she realized that perhaps she should have addressed her otherwise. But it was too late to change that now. "Is there some question?"

Jen caught her eye, silently questioning, and she could only nod. There was no use trying to hide things in the presence of Animus. Maybe Jen knew that.

She spoke as though she did, without reservation. "The wolf spirit is out of time, Princess. I don't know what that will mean for Merrick if we go back."

"If?" she repeated.

Jen met her gaze steadily. "You could stay here. I know the future isn't easy for you--either of you," she added, acknowledging Merrick with a brief glance. "You might simply vanish into one of the outland courts. Merrick could keep you safe, and I wouldn't be able to find you."

She gave that suggestion the consideration it deserved, but it came down to only one question. "Can you help Merrick if we go back?"

Jen's expression was one of sympathy, but she didn't have an answer. "Can you break his bond with the wolf zord?" she countered.

If it were anyone else, she would have said yes. Some were more easily dissolved than others, but all the warriors could refuse the choice of the animal spirits if it became necessary. Merrick, though... he had been the wolf for so long. She wasn't sure that could ever be reversed.

It was Animus' voice that broke the silence. "The wolf isn't one of mine," he observed.

Her gaze went to Merrick without thought, and she found him looking back at her. "He will be," she said softly.

"Indeed?" Animus, too, turned his gaze on Merrick, and this time it was as fond as it was speculative. "In that case, I will look after him. You need not worry."

She wished she could take him at his word. "But Animus--the last time we saw you... you said there was no reason for you to return."

He looked at her, and his expression didn't change. "Then give me one," he advised her gently.

She glanced at Merrick. He nodded, answering her unspoken question. Then, quietly, he added, "We don't belong here, Princess. Not anymore."

She tried to smile. "We're going with you," she told Jen. "But first--"

She took a deep breath, then turned to Animus. "Can you dissolve Merrick's oath? The one he made to me, when he became my protector?"

"What?" It was Merrick who reacted. "No! That was for life, Shayla, and I won't go back on my word!"

She did smile this time, secretly delighted that it had taken so little to make him forget himself. It seemed the "princess" habit wasn't so hard to break, after all. "You have another life now," she reminded him. "I want you with me because you want to be, not because you have to be."

This time the wind that whispered into the room swirled around them all, making the flowers around her wrist flutter even as they tossed Merrick's hair away from his face. Jen looked down in surprise as her cape rippled in the windowless room. Animus was the only one who remained untouched, an island of stillness in the center of sudden motion.

It was over as quickly as it began. "The oath is gone," Animus announced.

"Thank you," she murmured.

The lord of the wild zords shook his head. "It was not my doing," he said mildly. "Merrick's oath ceased to bind him long ago... longer ago than I had thought him to have lived.

"I do not know what this means," he added. He sounded as though his lack of comprehension intrigued him as much as the mystery itself. "From your conversation, however, I may be able to guess."

"But--" Merrick had clearly given up on maintaining any pretense of belonging to this time. "I can still feel her, Animus. I know when she's nearby, I know--where she is. I have to be with her," he muttered.

Animus actually smiled at him. "That vow was broken by death, Merrick. Yours or hers, I do not know, but that is what I sense. All I can tell you is that, whatever you feel, it is not the result of your oath.

"And," he added, as though it were of no great consequence, "that it's time for you to go."

She looked up in surprise, but he was watching "Lady Jennifer." Jen seemed to have her eyes on her bare wrist. A breeze made her decorative sleeves billow, however, and in its wake the ghostly image of her chronomorpher was visible.

Jen clapped her hand over the device just before it faded, narrowing her eyes at Animus. "You," she muttered, "are trouble. My lord."

This seemed to please him. "Indeed," he agreed genially. "I hope we will encounter one another again."

Shayla went to gather her skirt before she realized, "I can't take this dress with me."

Animus glanced at her, and she stepped back in surprise as a shower of golden sparkles swirled around her. When she looked down, she was wearing her temple dress, and the other one was laid out on the bed as it had been when she came in. "Oh," she said, at something of a loss. "Thank you."

"Indeed," Merrick said wryly. It was difficult to tell which of them he was mocking. "How strangely... familiar."

Animus only stepped aside, allowing Jen to pass. When she went to follow, though, she remembered Merrick's request and came to an abrupt halt. "Wait--"

"Princess," Merrick said at the same time. She turned to find him holding something, something small that caught the lamplight when he held it up. She couldn't help but smile.

She reached out to take it from him, but he caught her hand and turned it over. So softly she could barely hear it, he murmured, "I take thee," as he slid her mother's engagement ring onto her finger.

"And I thee," she whispered, curling her fingers around his. Hand in hand, he followed her from the room without another word.

Those last moments in the castle passed in a blur. Animus, promising he had seen nothing that needed to be shared, and Jen, telling them that they would need to leave from the same place they arrived. Taking their leave of Animus, or him taking his leave of them--it had always been hard to distinguish--and making their way out into the night that had settled over the ancient fortress and the valley beyond.

It was a long, cool walk without the cloak May had brought her. Jen handed over her cape as soon as they passed the gatehouse, and she couldn't find it in her heart to protest. Jen answered their questions as briefly as she could: yes she had gotten Wes' message, yes they had stepped through a time hole in the wolf's den, no she didn't know how the wolf spirit was now. Yes Animus had found her before she could find them, and no she didn't know how.

Merrick produced Taylor's detector upon request, and Jen shook her head. "I've told them not to reverse engineer Time Force technology," she said under her breath. "I'm going to get in trouble for that."

"It didn't seem to work properly," Shayla ventured. "It registered a time hole in the future, but as soon as we were here it stopped detecting anything."

"It's not temporally insulated," Jen told her. "Jury-rigged technology at best. It works in the time they made it, but it doesn't stand up to travel."

By this, she understood her to mean time travel. Jen was clearly not in a pleasant mood. She sidled closer to her protector, hugging the cape around her shoulders, and she smiled when Merrick slid an arm around her. Wasn't it all worth it, for this?

The valley of the wild zords was as quiet as they'd left it, and Jen led them unerringly back toward the place that would become the wolf's den. The wolf wasn't there, of course, and she reminded herself not to see an omen in the facts of the past.

Jen's chronomorpher was clearly visible now as she pulled out a much smaller version of Taylor's detector and began to scan the area. "This way," she called, her voice pitched to carry. It probably didn't matter. The valley was mostly empty, and they were almost gone anyway...

"Through here." Jen had stopped in a place that seemed no different from a dozen others, clearly indicating that they were to go first. She didn't say anything when Merrick stopped, though, giving the space a suspicious look before clenching his fingers and taking a deep breath.

"Princess--" He turned to her, then smiled awkwardly. "Shayla. In case something happens..."

"It won't," she interrupted. "We'll find a way to fix this, Merrick."

"Still..." He glanced at Jen.

Jen stared back at him for a long moment before turning away with a sigh.

She knew what he was going to do even before he took a step toward her. It was all there in his eyes--and why had she never known before that you could see a kiss in someone's eyes? Why hadn't she known that all she would have to do was watch to give him permission? Why hadn't it ever occurred to her that it could be this easy?

Then he had pressed his lips to hers and drawn away, his close warmth the only proof that it had happened at all. "I love you," he said quietly.

"And I you," she whispered.

They just stood there, looking at each other, until Jen said over her shoulder, "Today would be good, guys."

Merrick lowered his head, smiling in rueful acknowledgement even as he looked at her from under his bangs. He spoke for both of them when he said, "We're ready."

She reached for his hand, the ring a strange weight against her skin when he squeezed her fingers. Jen turned, studying her scanner, and she held up her hand in front of them in what looked like some sort of routine gesture. When she nodded, they stepped forward together, and only when Jen vanished did it become clear that she had been marking the edge of the time hole for them.

The den was the same. The wolf was back. And Moon was waiting for them.

Everything else flew out of her head as Merrick collapsed at her side.

4. Coyote Dreams

"Merrick!"

She wished they hadn't come back. In that moment, as she fell to her knees beside him, all she could think was no, no, this was all wrong, they should have stayed... they didn't belong to this time after all. He didn't belong here; he shouldn't be the victim of this terrible Time Force experiment, shouldn't be the one who had to pay for their mistakes.

"Princess Shayla?"

She recognized the voice, but she didn't spare it any attention. Merrick was still breathing, slowly and steadily, and that was the most important thing in her world right now. She desperately hoped that this time would be like all the others--unconscious only briefly, a few minutes at the most, and then awake and aware with nothing more than a hazy memory to show for the time he'd lost.

She didn't like him having to wake up that way. But if the alternative was him not waking up at all, then she would deal with the confusion. Just let him give her something to deal with.

"Wes." Jen's voice, now, and she didn't sound happy. "I don't suppose it would do me any good to confiscate this?"

There was a brief pause before Wes Collins replied, "Well, I'm willing to bet it doesn't work now that you've taken it through a time hole. So... no. I don't suppose it would."

"I thought you had agreed to destroy these."

"Yeah. When we don't need them anymore. That was the deal, Jen. We help Time Force, and Time Force makes sure we don't get killed doing it."

"By loaning you equipment, not teaching you how to build it!"

"You can't loan us enough equipment to keep everyone safe. We do what we have to, and we'll get rid of it when we're done. I told you that."

"Merrick," she whispered, trying to ignore the argument taking place behind her. "I need you here with me. Please don't leave me, not now..." She swallowed, admitting what had been in her heart for a long time. "Not ever."

He didn't stir. It was only to be expected, she thought, for he had been unresponsive for longer than this before. She looked over at the wolf spirit, but he had lapsed into quiescence again without Merrick there to prod him out of it. Lying there, head down between his paws and his crimson eyes closed, he looked no better than his chosen warrior.

She worried about them, but what could she do? They made their own way now. Together, often as not, but separate from her and often just as separate from the magical refuge that was the Animarium. She had wanted Merrick to be free. She should have know that "free" and "safe" would never be synonymous, not for him. Maybe not for anyone.

She looked down at Merrick again, blinking hard as her vision wavered. Tears pricked her eyelids, softening the cold lines of his uniform, and she laid her hand over the protector's emblem. It had always been his job to keep her safe. And if anyone asked if she wanted to be free of him, she would have said no.

She had never asked him.

"Princess Shayla," Jen said quietly. As the Time Force officer knelt down beside her, she nodded to Merrick. "How is he?"

"I don't know," she said helplessly. She pushed harder against the protector's emblem and blue sparkles consumed the ancient uniform, leaving his regular clothes in their wake. Nothing else about him changed. "I don't even know what's wrong."

"It's the wolf, isn't it?" Jen didn't look at all surprised to see Animus' magic here, in the present. "I know that your Rangers bond to their zords somehow..."

"No," she murmured. "Not physically, not the way Merrick is connected to the wolf. Even I didn't realize the connection between them was so deep."

She could hear the frown in Jen's voice. "This isn't normal, then?"

"What good does it do to have warriors so closely linked that the death of one means the death of the other?" she asked rhetorically. She shifted so that she could sit beside Merrick, to wait on his awakening. "All the Rangers share a bond with their animal spirits: a bond of friendship, and trust. A mutual respect. Not dependence."

Still crouching beside her, Jen put one hand on the ground to steady herself. "If it's not dependence, then...?"

"Merrick isn't like the other Rangers," she said softly. She looked up, certain this woman from the future wouldn't need her to tell the story. "He wasn't chosen by his wild zords," she explained, when Jen still didn't seem to understand. "He was cursed with them."

Jen blinked at her. "Excuse me?"

"Surely I've told you this story in the future?" She looked for any sign of recognition in Jen's face, but she found none. "You must know how Merrick came to be in this time."

"I assumed he slept," Jen said, frowning. "Here on the Animarium, with you."

Staring down at Merrick's face, his countenance peaceful now only in repose, she tried to imagine him succumbing to such a state voluntarily. He worked nights on purpose, she was sure--just another way of staving off the inevitable, of postponing the fear of oblivion just a little bit longer.

He must sleep. But she was sure he didn't do it willingly. Considering her own reluctance to close her eyes, she smiled a little, but it was a smile without happiness. Funny that they were more similar than ever despite all the time they spent apart.

"He chose to fight instead," she said aloud. "He always chose to fight. He saved Animaria... and he lost himself."

"He didn't stay with you," Jen surmised. "He joined the battle against the Orgs, four--three thousand years ago. But then... how is he still alive?"

She lowered her voice instinctively, no matter that Merrick showed no sign of awareness. "He called on the spirit of the wolf for the power to defeat Master Org," she murmured. "He was granted that power... and he gave his life in exchange."

She glanced at Jen, who was frowning down at Merrick now. Shayla followed her gaze, remembering the vision of things she had never seen. "The wolf took him and tried to rise to power in the Orgs' place. His friends were forced to entomb him, bound by the force of the moon for the intervening millennia, until someone who knew how to manipulate the locks found his prison and set him free."

Jen didn't say anything for a moment, but finally she asked, "Who?"

"Nayzor. One of the Org generals at the time." She stroked Merrick's hair gently, combing out the silver that had framed his face even before his journey through time. "We had no idea of the power he would release."

"He was still... evil, then," Jen guessed.

She nodded, torn between wanting Merrick to wake and hoping he couldn't hear them. "The wolf went by the name Zen-Aku. By the time he was released he remembered nothing of Merrick, and all he wanted was vengeance against the animal spirits' chosen warriors."

Jen was watching her now. "He didn't get it."

"He was still bound by the moon," she said with a sigh. "His power waxed and waned, and in the moon's absence we were able to communicate with Merrick. Animus and--Animus helped him remember, and showed us how to break the curse."

"Animus," Jen repeated, "and you? Did Zen-Aku recognize you?"

"No." She frowned, refusing to meet Jen's eyes. "Maybe. It... it was hard to tell."

There was a quiet moment, but mercifully, Jen decided to let it go. "So now," she said at last, "Merrick is still linked to the wolf somehow. More strongly than you'd realized?"

"I never expected this," she murmured. Her ring had caught in Merrick's hair, and she could only stare at it, wondering what to do. She couldn't bring herself to disentangle it. "I knew the wolf was ill, but I had no idea..."

"Shayla." Jen was the only one of the Rangers who used her name, and it got her attention now. "I've destabilized the time hole, and as long as no more spring up we'll be able to remove those shards as soon as it dissipates. But I can't guarantee the wolf's condition will improve once we do."

No. She lifted her gaze to Jen's, unable to form the words. Why not?

"The pieces of the crystal have been embedded for a long time," Jen said. Maybe knowing what she was thinking, maybe just continuing her explanation. "Exposure like this could permanently rewrite a human's temporal perception. I don't know what the effect is on a creature like the wild zords, but... if Merrick's symptoms are just the indirect effects?"

Jen paused, then shook her head once. "Well, it's not a good sign. I guess we'll have to wait and see what happens when the shards are gone."

"The deer zord." She didn't realize she'd said it aloud until Jen gave her a strange look. "If the cause is gone..." She took a deep breath, hoping it was true. She'd never seen the deer try to cure someone's mind before. "The deer spirit can heal any of his companions."

Jen took that in stride. "This time hole should disappear within the hour. If you'll help me with the wolf, I'll be able to contain the crystal shards immediately, and the deer can go to work."

If she could get the deer to come. "The deer isn't speaking to me right now," she said, focusing all her attention on her fingers as she patiently freed her ring and folded her hands in her lap again. "I'll have to ask Alyssa to come with her animal crystals."

Jen just nodded. "Is there anything I can do for you--either of you," she added, with a glance at Merrick. "In the meantime?"

"May I--" She tried to smile. "May I borrow your cape for a while longer?"

Jen's face softened, and she smiled briefly in return. "Of course. In fact, keep it. It looks better on you, anyway."

Actually, she had thought the future's temporal guardian pulled off her millennia-old fashion with convincing grace. "No," she protested automatically. "I couldn't keep this."

"You can," Jen assured her. "Time Force provides my travel clothes, and frankly, they don't expect much of the stuff they loan to Rangers to come back. It might as well go to someone who appreciates it."

She knew when to acquiesce, so she smiled and thanked Jen for the kindness. She waited until the other woman got up and turned away to pull the cape off of her shoulders. Folding it carefully, she lifted Merrick's head just enough to slide the makeshift pillow underneath, then brushed his hair back once more before she reached for her necklace.

She kept waiting for him to open his eyes. The longer it took, the more she began to dread. What if this was the time they didn't open at all? What if this was the time when Merrick didn't wake up, coherent or otherwise, and even after the wolf was healed the secondhand effects of temporal distortion were too great for his warrior to overcome?

"Alyssa," she said, not taking her eyes off of Merrick. She could hear Jen conferring quietly with Wes behind her, their disagreement apparently put aside for the time being. She could see Moon's worried gaze from the shadows on Merrick's other side, the wolf hybrid sneaking forward now that Jen had left. But most of all she could feel Merrick's breathing, shallow but regular as he lay on the ground of the wolf's den.

"Hi, Princess," Cole's voice replied cheerfully. "Alyssa has parent-teacher conferences tonight, so we're routing all her calls through my growlphone. What do you need?"

She blinked. She hadn't even known that was possible, but she didn't let it distract her from her purpose. "The deer crystal," she told Cole. "I think the deer might be able to heal Merrick's zord."

"Can't you just ask the deer yourself?" Cole asked curiously. "You of all people shouldn't need a crystal, Princess."

She sighed to herself. Yes, her father would have liked Cole very much. He said exactly what was on his mind, and he did it in a way that made one feel that there was no other option but to reply in kind. "I'm afraid the deer isn't very happy with me right now," she admitted. "I don't have any other way of calling him here."

"I understand," Cole answered. The good thing about his unflinching honesty was that one also got the sense that the truth was never wrong, no matter what it was.

"But Princess," his voice added, "we don't have the deer crystal right now. Alyssa said she got the feeling he wasn't comfortable with the tiger, and the deer and the lion have never gotten along. So Danny's been taking care of the crystal for us."

That was rare, but not unheard of. Occasionally those chosen by the animal spirits found that one or another of their spirits could better serve someone else, if only temporarily, and the crystals could be passed from one hand to another. She had never heard of an animal spirit being "uncomfortable" with the person it chose, though.

"Thank you, Cole," she said aloud. "I will ask Danny to bring the crystal here, then."

"Is the wolf worse?" Cole wanted to know. "How's Merrick?"

"They're both worse," she said, looking down at Merrick's still form. "Jen is here with me now, and I'm hopeful that the deer can help."

It was only then that she remembered she had never told Cole about the wolf zord. Taylor, she thought. Trust Taylor to spread the word, quickly and thoroughly, with no inaccuracies. She was a military-trained gossip machine.

Her assumption was confirmed when Cole replied simply, "Taylor said Jen was on her way. Is there anything we can do to help?"

"You already have," she said with a small smile. "Thank you, Cole."

"Anytime, Princess."

She looked over her shoulder, finding Jen and Wes standing quietly together, shoulder to shoulder beside the wolf zord. They were studying the scanner Jen held and had trained on the time hole. Neither of them was saying anything, and she had to take that as a good sign.

Glancing back at Merrick, she sighed. She needed a good sign right now.

At least she had something to do. Danny picked up immediately, and that was a relief. He and Max were constantly turning their phones off for one reason or another, usually involving airports or security or one or the other of them being on a date. She wondered if Cole could teach them to reroute the signal the way he and Alyssa had, so that at least someone could reach them if it was necessary.

"I'm all right," she said, when Danny asked how she was. Polite to the last, that was the Bison Ranger. "But I'm afraid Merrick is very sick, and we think it has something to do with his animal spirit."

"Yeah, the trizerium pieces in the wolf zord's paw." Danny sounded sympathetic and understanding and worried all at once. "Cole told us about that. Did Jen get there yet?"

She had to smile. It wasn't just Taylor. The whole team was very efficient at distributing information. "Yes, she's here," she told Danny. "But she's not sure that removing the trizerium will be enough to heal the wolf. I thought the deer might be able to help."

"Oh, yeah!" Danny sounded enthusiastic. "That's a great idea! He can heal anyone!"

She loved the way Danny talked about the wild zords as though they were people. Even Cole didn't do that, and in many ways he related to them better than any of his teammates did. In this, though, Cole never forgot to separate the animal spirits from their human companions.

"Cole told me that you had the deer crystal," she prompted.

"Oh, right--um." Danny's tone was instantly sheepish. "Actually, Max took it away from me. Just a moment."

The growlphones didn't transmit a lot of environmental noise, but she could distinctly hear him calling for Max. She couldn't hear Max's reply. Danny's voice, on the other hand, was quiet but clear when he answered, "You're the one who said it was making me moody!"

Max must have come close enough for the phone to pick up, because this time she heard his response faintly. "Yeah, but with Taylor, who'd notice?"

Danny's voice was louder again, and she thought he'd probably uncovered the phone. "Um, Princess Shayla? Max says that Taylor has the deer crystal."

At that point, she considered protesting. The animal crystals shouldn't be passed around like... like Max's music, or the books Alyssa loaned to her friends. They chose the person they did for a reason. She wanted to remind the Rangers of this.

She wasn't going to start with Danny. With a silent sigh, she admitted that Danny usually did whatever the others told him. He wasn't the person to lecture, not about this. Besides... he hadn't even asked her what she needed it for.

So she thanked Danny and called Taylor instead. There was a very slight chance that Taylor was already back on the Animarium, but given the circumstances, she probably would have checked in before she went to bed. It seemed likely, then, that Taylor was still with Eric, and that one or both of them wouldn't be very happy about being disturbed.

Fortunately, she wasn't in much of a mood to care.

It took longer for Taylor to answer than it had taken Danny, but she did, and she sounded reasonably alert when she did so. "Taylor," she identified herself. As though anyone else would be picking up Taylor's growlphone.

"I want to use the deer crystal to summon the deer and ask him to heal the wolf spirit," she told Taylor. "I've already been assured that, although everyone else on the team seems to have had the deer crystal at some point, none of them have it now. Max believes it's in your possession. Is this true?"

She heard Taylor snort, and then there was a long pause. Just as she was about to ask again, she heard a man ask, "What's this?"

"It's a phone," Taylor's voice snapped. "Princess Shayla wants to know where the deer crystal is."

There was a shorter pause this time, and then, "Hello?"

She didn't bother trying to conceal her sigh. "Eric, please tell Taylor that I'm sorry to have interrupted your evening, but of the six people on this team, four don't have what I'm looking for and one is unconscious. So if she would just tell me where the deer crystal is, I could retrieve it and leave you to enjoy each other's company."

"The... deer crystal?" Eric didn't sound impressed by her impatience. "Little glass sphere thing with a deer shape inside it? Is that what you're talking about?"

"Yes." She was trying very hard to keep her voice steady. "The deer crystal. Taylor should have it.

"Actually," she added before he could answer, "Alyssa should have it." She was tired of trying, tired of worrying, tired of being alone in this. "The deer crystal was hers, but for some reason, she decided that it wasn't comfortable with her.

"There might," she continued irritably, "have been some small amount of logic in giving the crystal to the team leader for safekeeping, but instead it went to Danny, who let Max take it away from him and pass it on to Taylor. So I apologize if I'm bothering you, but if the deer had stayed with the person it chose then I wouldn't need to!"

"Why didn't it stay with the person it chose?" Eric wanted to know. For a moment she could only stare, wondering how he had so completely failed to get the message. But then Eric's voice said, "From what I understand that was you, Princess. Aren't you the one who gave the deer crystal to Alyssa?"

She opened her mouth, shocked, and she heard Taylor's voice demanding that he give her the phone. "Princess?" Taylor said a moment later. "The crystal's at Eric's place, under the bed, on the right side as you enter the room. It's in a navy blue duffel bag with a school crest on it. Outside zipper pocket, right next to the water bottle holder."

There was a bright flash of light. The last of Taylor's instructions were drowned out by Moon's howl, and she flinched as Merrick started to convulse. She leaned in to grab his arms, ignoring Taylor's sharp question, and suddenly Wes was there on the other side, pushing Moon out of the way and helping her with Merrick.

"We need to move him," Wes said urgently, having to shout over the sound of Moon's panic and the crackling sound coming from behind her. She couldn't turn to see what it was, she could only be grateful for Wes' strength as he restrained Merrick against his own body and shifted them both away from the time hole. She followed without question, snatching Jen's cape off the ground as she scrambled after them.

"Princess," Taylor's voice repeated. "What's happening? Are you all right?"

"She's fine," Wes gritted, pinning Merrick against the side of the den while she held his head and kept him from seizing right into a concussion. "The princess is fine, we're all fine, but we're having a little trouble with the trizerium and we could really use that deer zord about now."

She finally glanced over her shoulder, knowing that Taylor could hear Wes perfectly well, and her eyes widened. The time hole, which had been invisible, was now a swirling mass of indigo-edged blackness that was crackling with electricity. The electricity didn't seem to actually come in contact with anything, but that was small comfort as the time hole writhed inches from where they had just been.

"We're a long way from you right now," Taylor was saying. "I think I can probably walk to the Animarium from here, but it'll take a while to find a place to start from."

Merrick slumped, the awful stiffness pouring out of his body and leaving a limp frame in its wake. His skin was flushed and his breathing ragged, but he seemed so much less threatened that she almost cried in relief. Wes eased up slowly, settling back on his heels when Merrick showed no further sign of movement. He too looked back at the time hole, and at Jen, who was standing beside it without the slightest hint of worry as she frowned down at her scanner.

"How far is a long way?" Wes asked abruptly. He turned back, catching her eye, and she understood that he was talking to Taylor.

There was only the briefest hesitation before Taylor's voice replied, "Out of state."

Wes shook his head. "Forget it," he told the air. "I'll get the crystal. Eric, your spare key still where it always is?"

"Yes," Taylor answered for him. "Look, we're on our way. It's going to take us a while to get there, but we'll meet you on the Animarium."

"Taylor," she offered half-heartedly. "There's nothing you can do here."

"Well, it turns out I'd rather feel useless up there than out here," Taylor retorted. "We're coming back." And she hung up.

"Jen neutralized one of the trizerium shards," Wes told her. He must be used to Taylor's style of communication by now. "When one of the inactive ones started to interfere with the one that's causing that time hole, she thought it was the safest thing. That's probably what caused Merrick to react."

"Will that happen when she neutralizes the other two pieces?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know." He shot another look at the time hole. "She won't do it while I'm gone, anyway, since it looks like it may take all of us to handle this. I'll go get the deer crystal right now."

"Wes--" She wouldn't let go of Merrick, but she reached out with her voice as he stood. "When you come back... there's a knife on the table in the middle of the temple. Merrick's dagger. Would you bring it with you?"

He didn't ask. "Sure thing, Princess."

Wes stopped to confer briefly with Jen before he left, but she couldn't hear what they were saying. Moon was leaning against her now, muzzle on her knee and resting against Merrick's shoulder as she found herself, once again, with his head in her lap and his worried pet beside her. Was this all she was good for in his life now? Holding him when he no longer had the strength to push her away?

"Shayla?" Jen's voice was gentle as she crouched down beside them, scanner still in hand as she rested one knee on the ground and looked Merrick over. "How's he doing?"

She shook her head, the answer no better than it had been the last time Jen asked. "I don't know," she said with a sigh. "I wish I did, but I don't. I had hoped that he would wake up before now."

"Maybe better that he doesn't," Jen said quietly, sitting down and resting her head against the wall for a moment. "The temporal stress on his mind is less when he's not consciously fighting it."

She closed her eyes, bowing her head over Merrick's in dismay. "I wish I'd known that," she whispered.

"I wish my tracking grid had picked up those shards before your wolf zord did," Jen answered. "But it didn't, and you didn't, and we can't change what's already happened."

"Can't we?" she murmured, not opening her eyes. "Can't you? Isn't that what you do?"

"That's pretty much the opposite of my job description, actually." Jen didn't sound upset, just matter-of-fact. "Time Force exists to regulate and minimize disruption of the timestream wherever possible."

"And yet here you are," she said softly.

She'd thought Jen would be angry, but instead it sounded as though she'd shrugged. "We screwed up," she said. "We're trying to fix it."

She lifted her head then, a spark of curiosity brightening her fear and doubt. "Why?" she wanted to know. "Why do you try to fix it after the fact? Why don't you just go back and do it over again?"

There was no answer, and she looked over to find Jen smiling. "Do you know," she said conversationally, "you're the only person from this time who's ever asked me that? It's a basic question. It's one of the founding principles of Time Force: that the same person can't exist in the same time twice. But no one else from the twenty-first century has ever asked about it."

She tried to get her mind around that. "So... you can't travel back into your own history?" That didn't make any sense. "But we did. Merrick and I--we just did that."

"I said it was one of the founding principles," Jen pointed out. "I didn't say it was true."

She didn't have any answer for that.

Finally, Jen relented. "I can't argue temporal mechanics with you," she warned. "I can tell you what I was taught, but I'm not a scientist. I get in that time ship and I go where the computer tells me to go, and when I'm done I go back and write my report. Then I go home to dinner and frankly, I don't think about it that much."

"I'm sure," she said quietly, "that whatever you were taught is far beyond me." She tried to smile back at Jen. "But I need something else to think about right now."

Jen put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. That was the only reassurance she offered, but somehow, it helped. So did her words.

"Time Force was founded on two principles," Jen said. "One is that everyone gets one chance to make a decision, and they can't be allowed or forced to do it again. The other is that any given awareness only exists once."

That made very little sense, but it was something else to listen to. Something other than the violent crackling of the time hole and Moon's hair-raising whine. Something other than her own thoughts and fears and self-recriminations.

"The first principle is a moral one, meaning that it's wrong for someone to go back in time and screw things up for everyone else," Jen was saying. "The second is a physical one. It basically says that it's impossible for a person to exist in the same time twice without their awareness being split between those different versions of themselves.

"There's a whole psychological debate," Jen added, "over what it means to be the same person, how long you can actually consider yourself the same individual you were yesterday, and what it is that makes people change. What it comes down to is that no one really knows. So travel to any point in your own past is prohibited."

Jen tilted her head to look over at her again. "That's one of the reasons your time hole excursion got priority on my desk this morning. You went back into your own past. Luckily, you and Merrick have changed a lot since the time you went back to."

She couldn't argue with that. Instead, she focused on the incongruity of Jen's words: "This morning?" she repeated.

Jen looked away. "Linear time parallels are just an illusion," she said sharply. She sounded angry all of a sudden, and Shayla couldn't imagine why. It had seemed an innocuous enough question.

"I'm sorry," Jen said, more softly. "Wes thinks that too. That when he wakes up at five twenty-five on a Monday morning here in 2004, somehow it's exactly the same time in my world--just a thousand years later. Like morning here is morning there. Like a year here is the same as a year there. Like where I am isn't a time at all," she finished with a sigh, "it's just another place."

She thought about Animaria, and all of the days that the time hole in front of them could have taken her to. She remembered Eric saying, "I've gone further back than that, Princess. You could be back in Animaria tomorrow." And she wondered, not for the first time, just when in her country's history she would go, if the choice were indeed hers.

"You could come back to us at any time," she said. Jen--the Jen sitting beside her right now--could go home to Time Force and return ten years in their future. Or fifty. "Fifty years from now," she murmured, struck by the thought, "we might see you later in your day today."

She heard Jen let out a controlled breath, almost a sigh, but not quite. Her reply, when it came, was very quiet. "I'm trying to prevent that."

She glanced over at her, and just like that, she recognized the expression on Jen's face. It was the same fear she felt right now, holding Merrick, wondering if he would ever open his eyes again. It was the fear of losing something--someone--she loved.

Jen caught her eye. "I come back as close to the time I left as I can," she said softly. "Because as soon as I interact with anyone, the times between my visits become off-limits for future travel.

"Time Force regulations," she added with a grimace. "It's fine, it's fair--it makes sense. As long as there isn't anyone in the past that you're trying to stay in contact with. Which there isn't supposed to be."

"Are you... not supposed to have friends in the past?" Shayla ventured.

Jen hesitated. "It's complicated," she said at last. "But basically... no. Not friends like the ones I have here."

She smoothed Merrick's hair back, ignoring Moon's pathetic gaze as she did so. "It would seem we both fell in love with very inconvenient men," she murmured

Jen surprised her by chuckling, but her tone wasn't happy when she spoke. "Yes," she said sadly. "We did, didn't we."

The time hole disappeared.

They looked at each other, and then Jen was on her feet and striding toward the wolf. "Wes," she muttered under her breath. "Where are you?"

Scanner held in front of her, she inspected the area of the time hole before turning back to the animal spirit. "Princess," she called over her shoulder. "I need to neutralize these shards as quickly as possible. The two active shards locked together, but now that the first time hole is gone they could open another one at any time."

Her hands tightened on Merrick's shoulders involuntarily. "Will that... will Merrick--?"

"I don't think so." Jen clearly understood what she was trying to ask. "I think it was the interference that affected the wolf before, and with the shards locked now that shouldn't be a problem.

"But," she added, turning to look at Shayla. "I don't know for sure. And I'm going to need your help to get the shards out of the wolf's paw either way."

She couldn't leave Merrick alone if there was a chance he would suffer another seizure-like episode. And Jen couldn't get to the crystal shards if she didn't make the wolf lift his paw. "Neutralized" didn't mean "contained," she knew that, and she also knew she was being asked to choose between Merrick and the wolf spirit.

"I can't," she told Jen. "I can't leave Merrick. I'll talk to the wolf from here and see if I can get him to help you."

Jen just nodded, not even bothering to protest. "I'm going to neutralize them now," she warned. As she turned back to the wolf, Shayla braced herself.

Nothing happened. Merrick continued to lie just as he was, breathing shallowly, with Moon's nose pressed against his skin. With one of her hands resting gently on his head and the other clutching his shirt collar just over his shoulder... she tried to make her fingers relax when she realized he was fine. Or at least, as close to fine as he had been before.

"Hey, delivery!" A welcome voice echoed from outside the wolf's den, and a moment later Wes was walking in with two very familiar objects in his hands. "What's our status?"

"Not dire enough to warrant calling you back," Jen replied, and there was a definite smile on her face as she swung around to face him. "The time hole's gone and the trizerium's been neutralized. I need Shayla to help me get it out of the wolf so I can get it contained."

"Right," Wes said. He was already heading for her, and he offered the deer crystal to her as he took Jen's former place at her side. When Moon growled at him, he set the dagger down hastily on the floor in front of him.

"Nice wolf," Wes told him, somewhat comically. "Good boy. Or girl. I'm not here to hurt anyone, okay?"

"Moon," she said, easing Merrick more fully onto the floor so that she might stand up. She replaced the cape behind his head before catching Wes' eye.

He nodded before she could say anything. "I'll stay with him while you help Jen," he promised. "Don't worry."

"I'm afraid it's too late for that," she said, bending to pick up Merrick's dagger. "But I appreciate the thought."

The wolf, as she had half-expected, didn't respond any better to her now than it had earlier in the day. She removed the wolf crystal from Merrick's dagger, but even having it in her hand didn't provoke any response. She and Jen finally had to give up. She put the deer crystal in the dagger instead, and with a final look at Merrick, she went outside to call the deer.

He came. Somewhat to her surprise, he came, since he knew who was calling whether she had the crystal or not. The only difference was that now he had to listen. He didn't have to obey--but he did.

His first attempt at healing was enough to make the wolf lift his head. Slowly, wearily, but that was more than he'd been able to do before and they tried again to get him to pick up his paw. After an indescribably disgusted look from the wolf, he did indeed deign to raise his paw far enough for Jen to reach the trizerium shards.

With the shards in containment, the deer's second attempt at healing the wolf was notably more successful. The wolf's eyes narrowed and he let out a growl that made Moon try to crawl behind Merrick--drawing the wolf's attention, and everyone else's as the giant silver head swung toward Merrick and Wes. She held her breath, but Merrick didn't move.

Wes looked over at her, confirming her fear with a shake of his head. Healing the wolf hadn't changed anything for Merrick. She came over to reclaim her place at his side, but she had no idea what to do now.

What was clear, though, was that the wolf wasn't happy to have them all in his den. Between the three of them, they managed to get Merrick back to the temple. The deer didn't linger, not even waiting for her thanks, which she would have given gladly no matter the outcome. She switched the crystals in Merrick's dagger as soon as she had a moment, wished the deer could turn its healing powers on humans as well, and settled in to wait.

Jen thought that Merrick might recover in his own time, now that he was no longer being affected by the wolf's exposure to trizerium. Wes agreed that this seemed possible, and he reminded her that Merrick was a Ranger, with all the enhanced healing and strength that came with it. Taylor and Eric showed up shortly after they had all arrived back at the temple, and demanded a full update.

So it was that Shayla was the only one in proximity to Merrick when his eyes opened. She was stroking his hair absently, watching the others argue over the circumstances and possible outcomes, and wondering if somehow going back in time again could reverse the effects of the wolf's illness. She gasped when a hand grabbed her wrist so tightly it hurt.

The grip relaxed almost instantly. "Merrick?" she whispered. Wide blue eyes stared up at her, and for a moment she was sure she had him back.

Then Moon growled, and the man in her arms sat up so quickly that he almost hit her as he scrambled away. His back stiff, he crouched on the stone for a long moment before flowing to his feet. "No," he said harshly. "No."

Four Rangers were converging on this space now. Taylor was coming toward her, the others a little behind as though they weren't sure they were welcome, and she had a bad feeling about this. She wanted to tell them to stay back, but she couldn't think of any reason to give.

"Merrick," she repeated, and even she heard the wariness in her voice.

"No." He met her gaze without flinching. "I'm sorry, Princess."

She wanted to close her eyes, wanted to shut out this vision of something gone so totally wrong, but his stare wouldn't let her. There was only one name for that expression. "Zen-Aku."

He gave a single, sharp nod.

Taylor was the first one to have a weapon in her hand, and that was all it took for the others to follow suit. The sound of four weapons powering up made her realize what could happen if she didn't stop this. "No!" she cried, on her feet before she knew what she meant to do.

The hasty denial didn't enlighten anyone, but Zen-Aku himself kept the situation from escalating. With a startled look at the Rangers and an oddly apologetic one for her, he held his hands out to the side and went down on one knee in front of her. "I am no threat to you," he told the ground. "This I swear."

The pain of seeing Merrick's bow performed by someone who had none of his mannerisms sliced through her tenuous composure. "Why?" she asked, feeling her voice tremble. "Why are you here?"

He tilted his head to the side as he sighed. It was a disturbingly familiar gesture, and she flinched. Few of his mannerisms, then. It was Taylor's voice that snapped, "Answer her!"

"I don't know," Zen-Aku ground out. He still didn't look up. "It is not my doing."

"Where's Merrick," she said, before Taylor could say anything else. She couldn't quite make it a question, not when she knew what the answer had to be. She could barely keep her voice steady enough to make it a sentence.

It might be Zen-Aku speaking, but it was Merrick's voice, and it softened noticeably when answering her. "I don't know," he repeated, still staring at the ground. She covered her mouth with her hand and turned away, hiding her too-bright eyes from a man who wasn't even looking at her.

"Is this because of that trizerium?" Taylor demanded. "Is he out of time somehow, or having some kind of flashback?"

"I know when I am," Zen-Aku said testily. "It's summer of the year you call 2004. Last month you left the Air Force, joined the Silver Guardians, and started seeing your former lover again. I assure you, I'm not some kind of temporal ghost."

Shayla's eyes widened. "How do you--" Turning, she found Taylor and Zen-Aku locked in some sort of staring contest that ended the moment he noticed her watching. Merrick's blue eyes could be every bit as intimidating as Zen-Aku's gold when he looked at her like that.

She tried again, willing him to look away. "How do you know that?"

He didn't look away, but his tone lost its irritable edge the moment he replied. "Merrick told me," he said simply.

"What!" Taylor had found her voice. "That's ridiculous! You are Merrick! Or you were," she added quickly. "Or he was you. Or--whatever."

Zen-Aku ignored the Eagle Ranger, instead speaking directly to Shayla. "It seems," he told her, "that my spirit is still bound to his. For what reason, I do not know. But I have traveled with him for years--helping him as I can, listening when I can not. He has told me a great deal about you."

"Great," Taylor declared. "Merrick's invisible stalker and confidant, all in one. So you waited until he was vulnerable and then you betrayed him by stealing his body?"

"Silence!" Zen-Aku roared. He was on his feet, and though Merrick's height wasn't really intimidating next to Taylor, his sheer volatility made him an imposing presence. "Allow the adults to have one conversation without your childish meddling!"

"Childish meddling!" Taylor looked outraged. Eric looked uneasy. Of course with him it was hard to tell, but Jen and Wes were exchanging glances that said they were ready to start firing if it became necessary.

"Listen, buddy," Taylor began, but Zen-Aku overrode her.

"You listen," he snarled. "Because here's an idea: everyone under a thousand, hold your tongue!"

"Stop it!" The words burst out of her. "This isn't helping! Merrick is gone and we don't know where or how and I don't care about these stupid arguments! So just--"

She ran out of things to say abruptly, painfully, her voice breaking and tears threatening all at once. She twisted her fingers together, and the ring on her left hand dug into her skin. The sharp stab of one reality against another seemed somehow appropriate.

"Just go away," she said, very quietly. Even she wasn't sure who she meant.

"Princess." It was Merrick's voice that broke the ensuing silence, but the tone was Zen-Aku's. "There are things I would say to you."

She didn't care anymore. "Say what you will."

There was a brief hesitation, and then he insisted, "Alone."

"Absolutely not," Taylor declared.

"Taylor." She folded her arms, staring past all of them at the fountain that still trickled happily over the stones. "Would you give us a moment, please?"

"What!" Taylor exclaimed. "You can't be serious, Princess."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zen-Aku tip his head back, lifting his gaze to the sky in silent appeal. It was such a strange gesture, so utterly foreign to Merrick's more controlled countenance, that it actually steadied her a little. "Yes," she told the fountain. "I'm perfectly serious."

Taylor hesitated longer than Zen-Aku had. Finally, though, she said, "Fine. We'll go up to the roof where we can keep an eye on you."

She didn't protest. She could hear them leaving, muttered words exchanged between Wes and Eric and a sharp "Shut up!" from Taylor that made one of the others laugh. When she lifted her head, though, she found Jen still standing there.

"I won't interfere." Jen forestalled her comment with a calm tone that didn't invite negotiation. "But you're my friend, and he's not who he looks like. I won't leave you alone with someone you can't react to objectively."

Again, she didn't argue. Zen-Aku had never shown any inclination to harm her, even before he knew who she was. She had come between him and the Rangers and he had turned away. She had told Jen that she didn't know whether he recognized her or not... but in her heart, she had always believed that he and Merrick were closer than either of them admitted.

That didn't mean she would have any mercy if the choice was one or the other.

"It's important to me that you believe I didn't do this on purpose," Zen-Aku said at last. He ignored Jen's presence completely, except for the fact that he didn't move. "I've followed Merrick for some time. I've never tried to take anything that was his."

Her fingers clenched on her arms, and she couldn't keep herself from saying it anymore than she could make herself look at him right now. "Except his soul."

"That was mine," Zen-Aku growled. "Those were the terms of the deal, Princess. My power for his soul. I didn't take anything he hadn't agreed to give."

"He was free of you!" she cried, lifting her gaze to the sky. "You can't have him back!"

There was a long moment of silence, and then Merrick's voice told her, "Neither of us has ever been truly free, Princess. Not since he put on that mask."

She stared up at the sky, still refusing to look at him. "What do you want?" she asked softly. She wasn't sure she could stand to hear the answer, but if he was holding Merrick hostage somehow then it was the only question that mattered.

His reply took her by surprise. "I want to apologize," he said gruffly. "For that. For being his jailer. For being here at all, now." A brief pause, and then he added more quietly, "For kidnapping you the first time we met."

She had to lower her head to swallow, looking toward him without meeting his eyes. "Why?" she whispered.

He must have heard her. "Because he responded to you. I wanted to know why. He's always held that incident against me... more than anything else, I think."

"I meant--" It was so unfathomable, that she was standing here talking to someone who looked exactly like Merrick about Merrick. "Why would you want to apologize?"

His voice sounded distant and troubled. "As I changed him, Princess, so has he changed me."

The sound of Jen's weapon arming made her turn in alarm. The woman from the future looked out of time herself, standing in the middle of the temple in a court dress with her firing arm braced against her wrist. But she wasn't aiming at Zen-Aku--her target seemed to be a boy on the other side of the clearing who looked like he had just wandered in off the streets of Turtle Cove.

"Hello," Kite said. Staring back at Jen, he remarked, "You're taller than I remembered."

Zen-Aku jerked away, stumbling backward before he caught himself and glared at the boy with apparent disgust. "Who are you?" he sneered.

Kite gave him an appraising glance. "Hello, Zen-Aku," he said in his child's voice. "Congratulations. You've finally earned the release you always sought."

She saw Jen glance at her, maybe looking for instruction, but she couldn't take her eyes off of the figure in front of her. His sneakers were as worn as ever, his old blue sweatshirt in disarray over top of his striped t-shirt and too-big jeans. There was no sign of the sunlit glow that had come out of nowhere to illuminate him the last time they'd stood face to face.

"The Rangers have proven themselves worthy," he had told her. "This fight belongs to them now. There is no need for me to return."

"Weren't you wearing a cape with that dress?" Kite was asking Jen. He paid no attention to her weapon, as though she wasn't even holding it. "Not that it doesn't look stunning either way," he added. "I'm just curious."

"Okay," Jen said, not moving. "I can't believe I'm agreeing with a vengeful three thousand year old wolf ghost about anything... but who are you?"

Shayla twined her fingers together and lowered her head, giving him the same approximation of a bow that Merrick had once given her. "Animus," she greeted the boy quietly.

She felt the incredulous look Jen tossed her way. "You're kidding me."

"Shayla, making a joke?" Kite sounded solemn and curious at the same time, which was probably what happened when a boy his age tried to sound politely amused. "This would be the first time."

She heard the others only moments before they burst into the clearing, Taylor coming to an abrupt halt as she took in the tableau. "Kite?" she gasped. She was flanked on either side by Eric and Wes, neither of whom seemed sure whether to draw their weapons or start asking questions.

Then Taylor shook her head, correcting herself with what was--for her--significantly more respect. "Animus? What are you doing here?"

Kite actually smiled at her. "Looking after my own," he said simply.

Zen-Aku staggered, putting a hand out to catch himself before he regained his balance. He stared around as though he had no idea where he was, and when his gaze came to rest on her she took an involuntary step forward. He looked very much like Merrick at that moment.

Then those blue eyes settled on Kite, and it wasn't an instinctive response. She would have sworn he thought about it first. Then, deliberately, he went to one knee and lowered his head.

"This is why you befriended me," he said, staring down at the ground. "Because of that night at the castle. You knew I would be controlled by the wolf."

"I knew you would bring the spirit of the wolf to my temple," Kite told him. "Rise, Merrick. You have more than made up for the evil you did as Zen-Aku."

She was already walking toward him, running as he got to his feet, giving him no chance to stop her before she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder. He wrapped her up in an unashamed hug, and she heard him whisper her name as his embrace tightened. Merrick was back. He was here and he was hers and she didn't doubt for a moment that he was well--Animus would have seen to that. As he had promised.

She heard exclamations behind her, the sound of another weapon arming, and felt Merrick stiffen all at once. He didn't let her go until she tried to step back, and then he kept a protective arm around her as she turned. Everyone was staring at the man beside Kite.

"Whoa!" It was Cole's voice, the Lion Ranger appearing behind Kite and the stranger at the temple entrance. "Take it easy, guys. What's going on?"

"There is no threat here," Kite told Jen, who was the only one still holding a weapon.

She pulled it back without question, but she kept her eyes on the stranger who towered over Kite. All of them towered over Kite, if it came to that, but the man who stood beside the boy was unfamiliar. Cole didn't seem troubled by his presence or surprised to see Kite as he strolled into the temple with utter confidence.

The deer crystal, she thought inconsequentially. The calls she had made about the deer crystal had alerted him, and now he was here to see what was happening. Cole liked to know everything that went on with the animal spirits.

"Who's this?" Cole asked curiously. "Hi Kite," he added, before anyone could answer. "Have I missed anything?"

"Hello, Cole." Kite nodded to the man beside him and said, "This is Zen-Aku. He has been given a form independent of Merrick's in return for the good he has done since they were cursed."

"Really?" Cole stopped where he was, considering the man in question. His clothes were black and his hair was shot through with silver, but otherwise there was no trace of the wolf in him now. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and his dark eyes were wary but unafraid. He clearly had several decades on Merrick.

"Congratulations," Cole said at last, unintentionally echoing Kite. He held out his hand, nodding once. "Zen-Aku."

The older man hesitated, his gaze darting around the temple. The Silver Guardians had come forward to stand with Jen, who had made her weapon disappear while Shayla wasn't looking. Merrick put his free hand on her waist possessively, and the man's eyes lingered on them a little longer than the others. He glanced at Kite before looking back at Cole, and finally he held out his hand in return.

Cole clasped his hand firmly, ever the ambassador, and offered a small smile. "Good to see you again."

Zen-Aku let go of his hand. "Don't push it," he muttered, and his voice was low and gravelly and oddly familiar.

"Why now?" Merrick wanted to know. If Zen-Aku had really been following him for an indeterminate amount of time, then he didn't have to explain himself.

"Because he's been forgiven," Kite said simply. "And now is the right time."

There was a long moment of stillness. Then Zen-Aku turned and walked away. It took her a moment to realize what was happening, but Merrick saw it before she did.

"Hey," he called after the other man. "Where are you going?"

Zen-Aku paused, just inside the entrance to the temple. He didn't look back. "Still have to forgive myself," he told the door. "That kind of thing is better done alone."

He was gone before any of them could stop him.

It seemed his departure was meant to be bracketed by silence, because they mostly just stood and looked at each other. Was that it? The wolf was well, Merrick was here, and Zen-Aku was gone?

"So, this 'alone' thing," Merrick said at last. "Was I ever that bad?"

"No," she murmured reassuringly. "Of course not."

Cole and Taylor exchanged glances, and at the same time they both declared, "Yes."

She smiled when Merrick squeezed her shoulder. "Perhaps," she allowed. "Once or twice."

"A day," Taylor added.

"It's time for me to go," Kite announced. "It was good to see all of you again."

"Hey, why don't you stay?" Cole wanted to know. "Get some ice cream? My treat."

Only Cole, she thought, would offer Animus ice cream.

The boy's face broke into a grin, incongruous in his otherwise serious expression. "I wish I could," Kite replied. "I have other things to do now."

"Next time," Cole said easily. As though he already knew there would be a next time.

To her surprise--or maybe not--Kite just nodded. "Be well, Rangers," he told them. "Shayla." He put his hands in the pockets of his blue sweatshirt and headed toward the stairs, trudging solemnly across the temple floor without another word.

"Animus," Merrick called suddenly, and Kite turned back. "What made you forgive Zen-Aku now--today?"

Kite shook his head. "It wasn't my forgiveness he wanted," the boy said. He held Merrick's gaze easily, curiously, as he added, "It was yours."

He started up the stairs then, seemingly unaware of all their eyes on him. There was a place at the top of the stairs that was hidden from sight, and there he vanished. Although they watched for some time, they never saw him emerge onto the roof.

5. After Lethe

They didn't sleep. She had never talked to one person without interruption for as long as the two of them talked that night. She had never felt closer to him--maybe to anyone--than she did by the time the sun came up again. It came as something of a shock when he finally left... sometime during the night, she just forgot that he would go.

Cole had stayed after Animus disappeared. All of them had, actually, a fact that Shayla found indefinably reassuring. Cole wanted to know how the animal spirits were--he seemed less concerned about Merrick, but instead of being offended Merrick had relaxed enough to tease him about it.

To tease him. Merrick was teasing Cole now. She knew that Cole and Alyssa had opened their home to Merrick, and that they regularly invited him to stay or socialize with them. It was still strange to see her protector on such familiar terms with the teammates he had shunned when he first awoke.

Jen had explained the temporal threat, at least as much as she could, to those of them who understood what she was talking about. Taylor had explained the Silver Guardians' peripheral involvement, which had been key but entirely coincidental. Eric had grumbled about the inconvenient nature of anything involving morphers. This prompted Wes to deliver a mock-lecture on the subject of stealing, which made sense only because Taylor had told her entire team how Eric had come by the quantum morpher. Cole just watched, exchanging amused glances with Merrick from time to time.

Finally, Jen took her leave of them. To go write a report that didn't mention Animus, she said. Wes went with her. The others disappeared soon afterward: Cole and Taylor with identical well wishes for Merrick, Eric with ill-concealed impatience. And so it was only the two of them left, alone on this island of the past, with everything said between them and still nothing truly acknowledged.

He was sitting on the table now, and he had been since Jen started talking about the timestream and the difference between trizerium and time hole detectors and how long she had actually known this was going to happen. He looked less tired, oddly, which she attributed to Animus' influence, but now that the others were gone he didn't look any more open. She didn't like the awkwardness she saw in him when he stood.

"Well," he began, glancing around the temple as though he wasn't sure what to say. "I guess..."

He didn't finish, and she didn't let him. "Don't leave." She was afraid that any motion she made, to him or away, would prompt a response on his part. And she couldn't shake the feeling that his response would be to retreat.

Instead, his mouth quirked in a half-smile, and he inclined his head. "As you wish, Princess."

She bit her lip. She wanted to tell him that if she heard him call her that one more time, she was going to do something drastic. What, she didn't know, but she suspected it would involve shouting.

She managed to ignore it, though, in favor of the things she knew she had to say, things that weren't as easy as getting angry. "I'm afraid," she blurted out. "I'm afraid that you're going to turn and walk away, and this will all be nothing, that it won't mean anything and we'll never speak of it again."

His expression sobered, and he looked at her for a long moment before he said, "I wasn't the one who walked away, Shayla."

She swallowed. "You've turned your back on me many times since," she said quietly.

He just looked at her, and she could only wonder what he was thinking. But she was right. They were both right, and they were both wrong. She was tired of laying blame, but she wasn't going to take all of it just so they could move on.

Finally, he inclined his head again as if ceding the point. "True."

It was harder to smile than she'd thought it would be. "Can't we put those times aside and talk to each other as we have today?"

Merrick looked away. When she followed his gaze, she saw the deer crystal lying beside his abandoned dagger... the deer and the wolf, natural opposites--enemies, even, anywhere but the Animarium. Yet here they had worked together, for a time. And again, perhaps, today.

"I remember," Merrick said abruptly. "Animus made me remember."

She turned back to him, surprised by the sudden self-consciousness in his tone. He barely met her gaze, shrugging a little when he saw her watching. "What I saw--what I said--when I wasn't really... here."

When the wolf overwhelmed him and the crystal shards altered his perception of time. "I thought you weren't embarrassed when you stood before me," she said before she thought. Maybe teasing him wasn't the best idea right now.

To her relief, though, there was amusement in his eyes when he lifted them to hers. "Perhaps I lied," he said, a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth.

"Then don't think of it," she said firmly. "It's over now, and you said nothing worthy of your embarrassment."

"I think I did," he told her. He looked just as determined to relive it as she had been to let him forget again. "I would explain myself, if you'll listen."

If he was asking, she could do nothing but agree. "Of course," she murmured.

She felt his fingers touch her chin, ghosting across her skin when she lifted her face. "Don't tell me what I want to hear," he said, very gently. His voice was so warm that she could read no reproof in his words. "I told you that wasn't my fantasy. Not that you weren't."

"You're not my fantasy, Princess." She could still hear that moment echoing in her mind.

"You said you wanted me with you because I wanted to be," he said softly. "Not because I had to be. It's no different for me. I don't want a princess who feels she owes herself to me, for whatever reason. I want a woman who wants me in return."

She swallowed hard. "Is that what you thought I meant?" She didn't know how to talk about this, she didn't know what to say or how to say it, only that it had been unsaid for too long and she couldn't wait anymore. "That I was--holding on to you, trying to keep you with me because I felt responsible for you somehow?"

He took a step back, utterly failing to look more comfortable with the conversation than she was. "I was confused," he muttered. "I couldn't tell when I was, and... and hearing you say things--"

He broke off, giving her a miserable look that made her heart ache. "You know I love you," he said, searching her expression. "You know that."

He seemed to be waiting for a response. She couldn't help but smile, charmed by how quickly he went from confident and tender to uncertain and vulnerable. "I know," she agreed quietly. "You have my heart as well."

"I've imagined you saying that," he confessed, looking away. "And to hear you say it then, when I had no idea what was real and what wasn't..."

"That made it worse." She didn't have to ask. When he put it like that, it seemed so obvious to her. She would change it if she could, but she couldn't. All she could do was to make it clear now, when he would know it was real.

"Merrick." She waited until he looked at her again. "I'm not just saying it. Not then, and not now. I mean it."

He smiled, a real smile that made him look happier than she'd seen him look in a long time. All he said was, "I know."

"I'm sorry I asked you to leave the Animarium," she murmured.

"I know," he repeated, before she could continue. "Don't apologize again. It's over. I shouldn't have held it against you. As long as you don't plan to do it again, there's nothing else we need to say on the subject."

"I won't," she said softly. "I won't do it again."

He looked at her, the silence stretching so long that she began to wonder if he doubted her. Then he said, "I'm sorry for... for what I said, at Willie's. This afternoon," he added, as though it needed clarifying.

She stared back at him, trying to decide which part, exactly, he was apologizing for. "Did you mean it?" she asked at last.

He shook his head no. But he said, "Yes," and she thought that made about as much sense as anything else that had happened today.

"Yes," he repeated, after a brief hesitation. "Not what I said when you first came in. I wasn't talking to you then," he added. "I've seen--Zen-Aku sometimes speaks... or he did. Sometimes... we talked."

He was looking at her worriedly, nervously, maybe wondering what she would make of that. It didn't surprise her. She didn't like it, but it didn't surprise her. "So you said," she agreed gently. "For how long?"

His expression twisted in something like pain, or maybe disgust. "How long have I heard him talking to me," he muttered, "or how long have I been answering?"

"Merrick--" She didn't know what to say, didn't know how to reassure him. "He's gone now. He left. You don't have to talk to him anymore."

"I want to!" He looked worried and angry and anguished all at once. "He's part of me, Shayla! There was no one who understood me better!" He paused, almost choking on his words as he saw her, and still he mumbled, "No one."

She couldn't answer that. She couldn't do anything but nod to show she understood even when she didn't.

"Since that time he tried to take me back," he said with a sigh. "He didn't disappear with the mask." Glancing away, he added, "Or maybe he did... to everyone except me. No one else could see him after that, but every full moon--I'd see him again. Hear him.

"He didn't threaten me," he said quickly. "He just... talked. Then, after the Animarium rose again--"

His gaze met hers again. "I was very alone," he told her. "A feeling you know well, I think." He folded his arms, sighing, but he didn't take his eyes off of her. "So I started talking back."

"That's what he meant," she said softly. "When he said you'd told him a lot about me... about all of us, I mean. The Rangers."

"About you," he corrected. "You're right the first time. I did tell him a lot about you. And I'm sorry about that, it's just that... who else did I have to talk to?"

"I guess--" She tried to smile. "I guess you never seemed to be a person who got lonely, Merrick."

She couldn't read his expression at all when he said, "This is a lonely time, Princess."

"Shayla," she said, more vehemently than she'd meant to. "I asked you to stop calling me 'princess.'"

His face didn't change. "I thought... that might be just to help you recognize me."

"No." She knew what he meant. "Please, Merrick, I'm tired of not hearing my name. Willie and his customers are the only ones who use it--and Jen sometimes--and I know you disapprove, and you never wanted me there in the first place, but I'm lonely too!"

"It wasn't that I didn't want you there," he said, his arms falling to his sides as he shifted uncomfortably. "It's just--" He reached out to tap one hand against the table, a nervous gesture that he seemed to recognize as soon as he started. He pulled his hand away again.

"Just what?" she insisted. "You say you want a woman, not a princess. But the moment I leave the Animarium you treat me like a child who can't handle the world the way it is today!"

"The world is different now," he declared, "and you're too trusting, Princess. Just because Willie takes care of you doesn't mean half the men in that bar wouldn't take advantage of you the second he turns his back."

"Just because you knew me when I was fifteen doesn't mean I haven't grown up!" she retorted. "I'm not helpless, Merrick!"

"And I can't forget the night we met!" he shouted back. "I'm sorry if it's all I see when some drunken guy leers at you and you smile at him!"

"I was fifteen!" she repeated furiously. "I made a mistake! I won't hold all men accountable for the foolish things I did as a child!"

"I will! I'll hold them accountable and I'll put my fist in the face of anyone who so much as looks at you sideways if that's what it takes to keep you safe! This isn't the court, and women aren't the untouchable icons they were in the past!"

"A lot of good it did me then!" she snapped. "Alyssa and Taylor live on the earth without fear, and I'm at least as capable as either of them! You say I live in a shell, yet you would keep me here out of some misguided sense of preservation!"

"I don't want you to stay here," he growled. "I want you to be more careful when you leave! Taylor is a soldier, trained for combat longer than either of us has been awake. And Alyssa--"

He stopped suddenly, his mouth twisting into a rueful smile. "Fine, granted, Alyssa has no concept of personal safety. Which is why Cole, who stands head and shoulders taller than her when she's on her toes, follows her everywhere!"

"Oh, that sounds familiar," she shot back. "Do you think I don't know that I can't leave the Animarium without you knowing about it? Do you think I don't see you, don't sense your presence every time I go somewhere with one of the other Rangers?"

He made no apology for his actions. "I swore to protect you!"

"If it's a choice between your protection and your respect, then I want your respect!" she shouted at him.

He turned his back on her, head down, the angry set of his shoulders achingly familiar. She wouldn't apologize. It was only the truth. And if it was a choice between his respect and his love, she wanted his love--but she didn't think she could have the one without the other.

"Do you know what I remember about that night?" His voice drifted to her, suddenly devoid of heat, of anger, of any emotion at all. "The night we met?"

She swallowed. She shook her head before it occurred to her that he couldn't see her. She wasn't even sure she wanted to know.

"I remember how beautiful you looked," he said distantly. He hadn't waited for her answer. "I remember thinking that your protector... that he was the luckiest man alive. And to see you there--talking, laughing with the Guards like they were your own brothers..."

He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest again. She twined her fingers together anxiously, wishing she could stop him, certain she heard condemnation in his voice. It had seemed like such harmless fun at the time. Her protector had invited her to join him for an illicit drink, to meet some of his friends--to see the way the other half celebrated, he'd said.

It was terribly improper, and so all the more exciting. It had been a fair day, with feasting and fires long into the night, and she had still been giddy with her own step up from childhood. She had her own protector now! She'd been eager to prove her maturity, and the chance to grace a gathering so below her had been thrilling and dangerous and so very grown-up.

"I knew you were special," Merrick was saying quietly. "It was obvious in everything you did. The fact that you were there at all. I couldn't believe it. I think any one of us would have done anything for you that night... if we hadn't been too drunk to notice what was going on."

"It wasn't your fault," she tried, hoping to stop him before he went any further. "Merrick..."

"That's what I remember," he said, raising his voice. "I remember you being kind to us, treating us like we mattered next to you, and taking your leave of us as though it was we who had done you the honor."

He turned then. "And if your protector was more familiar than anyone expected," he said, his gaze glancing off of hers, "we were too blinded by your friendliness to notice."

"Not you," she said into the sudden silence. She took a deep breath, bracing herself to invite his response. "I never knew what made you follow us that night."

He looked at her. She didn't know what to read into his expression. She looked back, making herself wait, telling herself that so many things had changed since then. She wasn't that girl anymore. But sometimes, when she was under his intense scrutiny, she couldn't help but feel scared and helpless and very, very stupid all over again. He knew things about her that no one else did.

"I don't know either," he said at last. "I don't think I knew then, though it's possible I've simply forgotten. Perhaps there was someone running, or a child screaming, or some other of a hundred things that made me step outside just then.

"In time to hear you say no," he continued, his eyes seeing deep into hers. "And to know that he wasn't listening."

She folded her arms, cold and embarrassed and wishing desperately that this had never come up again. "It wasn't his fault," she murmured. "I shouldn't have been there. I didn't understand."

"It was his fault," Merrick growled. She could feel him, still staring at her even when she looked away. "It was his fault that I risked my rank by escorting a distraught and protector-less princess through the halls of the castle, and it was his fault that you were confined to your rooms for three days afterward! It was his fault that we were all anyone talked about for months! Until your crazy sister--"

He stopped immediately. For the first time he looked as uncomfortable as she felt. "It's his fault," he said after a moment, and his voice was quieter now, "that I can't imagine kissing you now without remembering him."

"I've suffered for his mistakes ever since..."

"I've never thought of him when you were close to me," she said softly, unable to meet his gaze. "Never, Merrick."

"I think of him every time," he muttered. "Every time I touch you without asking. Every time you come to see me at Willie's. Every time someone looks at you with something other than love in their eyes, and you're kind to them anyway, as though you don't even think of what could happen."

"I can't--" She swallowed hard. "I can't be afraid all the time. I won't."

He shook his head, and she interrupted him before he could start to speak. "I trust you," she reminded him. "I trust Willie. I trust the training you gave me. I'm not fifteen anymore, Merrick. And I'm not helpless."

He looked away then, staring down at the ground. "Maybe it's not you I'm afraid for," he said under his breath.

She just looked at him, confused and rushed and strung out, the way she always was when they argued. She hated to yell at him, but she hated to have him yell at her more, and she wouldn't watch him walk away again. She wouldn't. Not without telling him what was really on her mind.

"Maybe it's me," he muttered. "Maybe I'm scared that I'm no better than he was."

She opened her mouth before she knew what she was going to say. "Does it matter what I think?"

It startled him into looking at her. "What else is there?"

"I think you've spent seven years being everything my first protector was not," she told him. "I think you should stop now. Your oath is gone and I have no need of a protector these days--except maybe at Willie's," she allowed, before he could interject.

"I think I want Merrick more than I want a protector," she continued. "And I hope you want me more than you want a princess. So please... let us try. Let us be Shayla and Merrick first, instead of an Animarian princess and her protector."

He was already shaking his head. "I've always been a soldier first," he said. "Your protector, before anything else."

"Well, I'm letting you go," she said, with some asperity. "I don't want a protector anymore. You're fired."

He just rolled his eyes, as though the idea wasn't even worth his comment.

"I just want Merrick," she said, more gently. "Just you. However you are. Is that so hard?"

He sounded frustrated when he burst out, "I can't erase my past!"

"I don't want you to erase it," she insisted. "I just want you to stop living in it!"

He put his hands on his hips, glaring at the ground, but he didn't say anything. He didn't pull away when she put a hand on his shoulder, either. She laid her other hand against his cheek, and he looked up before she could ask. Blue eyes met hers, still staring, maybe seeing in her gaze whatever she had seen in his before they stepped back through the time hole.

She moved closer, her feet sliding a little as she kept her eyes on his face, silently asking permission. She tilted her head carefully, and then their mouths met with a gentle closeness that didn't abate. For a long moment, they were utterly still, and then she felt his shoulders shift and his hands settled on her waist as he kissed her again.

It was a feeling more vulnerable than any she'd ever known. And she trusted him with that, the way she wanted him to trust her. "Stay with me," she whispered against his skin.

He didn't pull away, and she could feel his breath on her cheek as he murmured, "All you ever had to do was ask."

She could smile at the irony, now. "Maybe that's why I didn't."

She felt his kiss again, soft against her mouth. Then his forehead came to rest against hers and he said quietly, "It's my choice too."

There was a long moment when she could hear her own heartbeat, when her breath came and went between parted lips, and she was afraid to move lest she break the spell that held him so close to her for this indefinable moment. Then he whispered, "It always has been," and she understood that he wasn't going to step away.

"You heard Animus," he murmured. "My oath is gone." His hands on her waist were a comforting warmth, and she let her fingers caress his neck as he added, "It's been my choice to follow you all along. Just as it was the night we met."

"Tell me," she said impulsively. Her hand slid over the collar of his t-shirt to rest on his shoulder, and the absence of his uniform made her love this time all over again. "Tell me about you and Animus. I knew you were friends, but I never knew how or why until today."

"Yes..." She didn't have to be able to see his whole face to know that he was smiling. "Many have said the same of us, I think."

If it was true, it didn't keep him from telling her. He told her about the lord of the wild zords and his sudden interest in one of the Royal Guard, a whim of Animus' that many had written off as a courtesy to his temple guardian, or perhaps a defensive gesture on behalf of the same. He told her how it had caused problems with some of his fellow Guards, and how he had befriended some of her servants in self-defense. They were all happy to invoke Princess Shayla's authority on his behalf early on, when his own was still in question.

She didn't apologize, sensing he didn't want it, but she told him about her own struggles in court after her first protector was dismissed from the Guard and Merrick took his place. She told him about the truth behind her "crazy sister's" affair, something he had suspected at the time but her sister had made her promise not to reveal. And she told him that she had been grateful for his friendship from the beginning, only becoming more so as the years passed. It was funny that his presence had always been a grounding influence, first because he was separate from the court and then later because he reminded her of it.

They talked long into the early morning hours, and somehow, instead of bringing those times closer, the words seemed to widen the gulf between now and then. It was as though by acknowledging the distance they finally made it real. And now she knew the answer to the question she had asked him when they left the banquet: it didn't feel like a loss after all.

It felt like freedom.

The stars finally began to fade, but true dawn was still a long way off when they made their way back to earth and Merrick let them in to the kitchen at Willie's. They tried to be quiet, but she couldn't help giggling when he knocked over a glass and of course, Willie came out to growl at them. His impatience softened slightly when he saw them together--and, she thought, seeing Merrick in such a good mood didn't hurt--but even if he had been angry, they hadn't done anything wrong. They were just two people who had made too much noise at the wrong time of day.

When she sat down at one of the empty tables out front, her temple dress replaced by a gauzy skirt and sleeveless wraparound shirt, she wasn't a princess anymore. She was just a woman eating supper at sunrise with a man who worked the night shift in this very building. His grey t-shirt and irreverent smile were a happy combination of her favorite things: his new informality, and his old humor.

The insistent conversation had quieted as their comfort in the silence grew. Without having to say it, they each knew the other wouldn't sleep until the new day was well established. So when the dishes were washed and the last star had disappeared from the sky, Merrick went upstairs to retrieve his flute.

By the time the sun climbed above the horizon, the deer had come to hear them sing.