Shock was replaced by heart rending joy as her eyes landed on the picture of her mother next to her bed.  With a wordless cry, she flung herself at the image and gathered it into her arms, sobbing before she could even try to stop the tears.  Three years of missing it, and more time spent missing the woman in the frame and what she meant, came crashing down on Amber with the force of a waterfall.  Her knees buckled and she crumpled against the bed, curling around the frame as if she would never let go.  “Mother,” she whimpered, trembling with too much emotion.

                She wasn’t sure how much time passed before the overwhelming feeling lifted.  A part of her she’d been missing was back and Amber could almost feel her mother combing gentle fingers through her hair.  Hush now.  It’ll be alright, my dear one.  The unforgettable voice whispered in Amber’s mind and she exhaled a shaky breath as two more tears spilled from her eyes.

                “I’m back, mother,” she mouthed silently, finally opening her eyes and pulling her hands away so that she could stare down at the picture in the frame.  Her mother waved back at her, beautiful and so very warm.  A smile came unbidden to her face and Amber hugged the picture close again, convincing herself to get to her feet at last.  “I’m back,” she confirmed, letting her eyes trace over the familiar contents of her room.

                There was the patchwork quilt her mother had helped her sew.  Browns and blues and greens and other clashing designs and colors jumped out at her in an assault on her eyes.  Her mother had let her choose the patches and the end result had been quite ugly because of it, but the stitches were tight and the fabric pieced together with love.  Beside the bed was the drawer her mother’s picture always rested on.  It held very little other than the wire and straw man Seungho had surprised her with for her twelfth birthday.  Changsun hadn’t been with them just yet, but Seungho was so very nervous and awkward around her when he first arrived.

                He couldn’t read or write while she could; he knew next to nothing about magic and Amber did; he was leaving a family of five with two brothers, one older and one younger, to live with them, a Mage and his only daughter.  He’d had plenty to be nervous about.  And he had no money then and no idea what to get her so he’d made her this: a man of straw wrapped around a wire frame and garbed in tiny clothes.  Her lips curled up at the memory since he’d inadvertently told her he was good with his hands and knew how to sew.

                With a gentle hand, she picked it up and cradled it in her palm, staring at the figure for several heartbeats.  “I miss you too,” she admitted with a sniff as she curled her fingers around it carefully and held the item close to her chest where the necklace her father gave her was.  “I know you’re here somewhere,” she murmured, scanning the rest of her room as if she could see through the walls.  “Both of you.”

                Books of magic and adventure stared back at her; small tokens and gifts her father and the villagers had offered lined her shelves and walls; the beautiful, golden ribbon her mother had bought her before she’d disappeared hung on a peg beneath one of her books.  Amber hadn’t wanted to wear it for fear she would lose it or somehow damage the material but… with a decisive nod, she reached a hand out to grab it off the wall so she could tie it around the strawman figure.  Her hair wasn’t long enough to tie back but she could use it to make another improvised necklace.

                Amber her lips as she looked down at the various items on her person: the two necklaces, her borrowed shirt, and the clothes she’d received from Changsun.  None of them were here with her now, but she felt better just thinking pieces of them were.  Inhaling once, she grabbed both necklaces in her hand again and nodded to herself.  The room was a haven she had not expected to find but she still needed to get back out there.  She was just as trapped here as she’d been in the village and her room would grant nothing beyond peace.  It was a peace her brief stay had already given her.

                “But now it’s time to move again,” she murmured, reluctantly setting the image of her mother down on the table again. “I’ll come back for you,” she promised while tracing her fingertips against the frame.  “But I know you’re with me anyway,” Amber smiled, her other hand tracing the ribbon around her neck.

                Still weaponless, Amber shook her hands out as she squared her shoulders and faced the door again.  For whatever reason, the beast hadn’t tried to get into this room and it was possible it had gone away in the meantime.  Biting her lip, she snuck closer and listened carefully with her forehead pressed against the wood.  She couldn’t hear anything so she unlocked it as quietly as possible.  The metal clicked far too loudly in her ears and she froze, waiting.  As silence reigned, she pulled the barrier open to look outside through the sliver of a crack.

                Nothing.

                Where had the beast gone?  Taking care, Amber leaned out just far enough that she could check either side of the door.  There hadn’t seemed to be room enough for it to hide out of sight and she was right.  It wasn’t there either.  But she did notice a small patch of blood on the stone just in front of her room and she frowned.  It was still bleeding.

                Taking a step out, Amber knelt beside the small splotch and traced the edges with her fingertips.  It hadn’t dried completely yet so it must have left recently.  Her brows knitted above her eyes and she sighed before glancing up again.  No windows broke the surface of the stone so seeing outside was impossible.  Considering the layout of the tower, her room should have been impossible too: the space was too large with the maze of halls and this, but magic made many things possible.

                The door at the end of the hallway was closed and Amber stood up to tip toe towards it.  Her heart was in as she gripped her necklaces in one and felt along the stone wall with the other.  No traces of anger or pain here.  The blocks were untouched save the recent splash of blood.  For a moment, she stood at the doorway and tried to quell her racing heart.  When it didn’t work, she finally took a chance and opened the door as carefully as possible.

                As before, there was nothing.  Traces of blood she’d missed previously marked the walls and the stone at her feet, but there was no beast.  She immediately jumped against the wall when a pained roar echoed through the hallways.  Amber jumped back behind the door and yanked it shut, ready to bolt if she heard it approaching.  But the only thing she heard was the sound of shattering glass as if from another room.  With trembling hands, she pushed the door open again and slipped back out, inching to the right immediately.

                To the left was the beast’s room – assuming it had one.  It had to be, so she wanted to avoid it at all costs right now.  She could head back but that would leave her exactly where she started and if her room was here, then there was a chance she could find the other rooms as well.  One, two, three, she counted the steps in her mind as she rounded the bend.  Eight steps from the door to the wall.  Another eight steps from the wall to both doors, one on either side, and no sign of the beast.  It had gone quiet again.

                Amber went over the current layout in her mind as she eased into the door on her right.  She’d come through the trap door room which had two doors in it, one across from the other.  In the next set of halls, she’d only seen one door between two hallways.  Then stepping through into the next hall, she’d found three so far.  Two of them led to additional rooms – she presumed, and a third awaited her at the end of the corridor.  Eleven steps from door to door but the space was larger than that since the corridor extended past the entryway.

                Just in case, she filed the information away and tried to ignore the scratches on the walls here.  There was no fresh blood so she doubted the beast had returned here recently.  As if to confirm her thoughts, another mournful howl rose up, quieter, more subdued than the first.  Amber’s stomach twisted at the sound and she her lips before pivoting and pushing the door open.

                She didn’t know what she expected when she stepped in but dropped open and she numbly walked into the nearly destroyed space.  It was her father’s study hall…  What was left of it anyway.  The tables she remembered studying on for marks were completely shattered and strewn about.  Walls of shelves and books had been torn down and left to lie all over the place.  Several tomes were open and lying haphazardly over others, the pages bent and crumpled.  Claw marks scored the stone of the room and the wood of everything else.

                “Hell fires,” she whispered, aching to fix things; to set them right again.  But standing on the edge of such destruction with the thing responsible still residing inside, Amber knew now was not the time.  However, one of the shattered tables did provide her with a sturdy enough club she could use until she found something else.  “Okay,” Amber exhaled with a jittery shake of her free hand.  “Let’s keep going,” she urged as she took a step out and closed the door behind her.

                Backtracking to the hallway, she waited with baited breath, poised to flee again.  She heard some kind of shuffling around, the sound of wood breaking and more glass falling to pieces, but once more, it was not here.  Continuing on her path, she headed right again, counting the same steps as before: eight.  Rounding the corner, only one door appeared in the hallway.  Another on her right, just like she had suspected.

                More scratches lined these walls, but none so bad as the first door she’d gone through.  Wasting no time, she pushed through the entryway and headed quickly for the one at the end of the corridor, eleven steps away.  Mentally preparing herself, she figured it was one of the other bedrooms since the casting room would be where the beast resided, wouldn’t it?

                Holding her breath, Amber pushed the door open with the club raised, just in case, and inhaled sharply.  “My gods…” she breathed with unblinking eyes and numb fingers.  She had to catch herself on the doorframe so she wouldn’t fall back, but her horror did not abate.  “Father?” she called in inquiry, biting her lip while she took a tentative step into the ruined remains of her father’s bedroom.  Massive rents scored the entirety of the room.  Not a single space was untouched by the nameless rage inflicted upon the interior.  Worse still, splotches of old blood were spattered all over.  “No…” Amber shook her head, swallowing hard as she numbly looked for anything good.

                Feet trudged into the debris, uncoordinated and heavy.  Amber nearly tripped on a broken piece of furniture – the bed or a desk piece.  It was hard to say.  His blanket was shredded, tiny pieces of fabric strewn about.  Books and knick-knacks and all manner of magical and personal items littered the space, bent and broken and shattered.  But… there was no sign of him.  Her father’s body, and all other signs of it, was missing.  Amber’s fingers shook as she reached to touch the raised edge of wood nearest her: a bookshelf or part of his bed.

                Had it… eaten him?  Sick nausea rose up, pushing bile into at the mere thought.  Amber dry heaved and clapped a hand over , pulled taught between horror and disbelief.  Swallowing hard, she pressed the back of her fist against and took a shaky breath.  “No,” she denied with a quick motion of her head.  Her jaw trembled and she forced herself to look away, gripping the club tight while she stalked out of the room.  She didn’t close the door.  “I won’t believe it,” she told herself, making no effort to quiet her steps as she went back to the hallway.  The door opened and she strode through, throwing caution to the wind.  “Monster!” Amber challenged, striding down the hall towards the last room she had yet to check on this floor.

                Pausing at the corner of the hallway, she waited, trembling with anger and pain and horror.  It did not take long for the beast to respond.  A confused snort and claws scraping against stone.  It echoed through the wall, making Amber flinch.  A door burst open, the low growl following after.  Footsteps clacked, hard nails tapping on the floor.  She took another breath when the door opened, yawning inward.  One vicious paw emerged first, followed by the lithe, golden body and a large, maned head that unerringly swung her direction.  The beast glared at her, gleaming golden eyes narrowed as lips peeled back to reveal fangs.

                “Where is he!?” Amber raged taking a jerky step forward.  The improvised club weighed heavy in her palm.

                Cat-like ears swiveled and folded back as the beast crouched down, head hanging below its shoulders.  It hissed and stepped further into the hallway, slinking towards her with a predator’s grace.  The shoulder wound was still open, still ugly, and it limped with each slow step, tail twitching behind it.

                “What did you do to him!?” she growled, taking another step closer, club raised high.  Every hair stood on end as she panted, staring it in the eyes.

                Nostrils flared in a triangular nose.  Short whiskers twitched.  Large ears perked up and laid flat again.  Confusion… uncertainty appeared in its eyes.  As if disturbed by something, it shook its head and snarled, tail thrashing.

                “Gyah!” Amber screamed, throwing herself forward with the club raised high.  Her opponent sank down lower, as if it was going to jump.  But… it didn’t.  Two running strides and she swung with a broken howl.  “Where?!”

                It screamed back, the sound tortured and angry.  A set of claws tore the air, catching nothing.

                “What did you do?!” she demanded, trying once more with all the fury in her weary body.

                The beast swiped again, backing away with bristled fur.  An open maw promised death, but it never followed through.  She swung, it struck back, scoring the club but not her.  Step by forced step, it gave ground until Amber was even with the doors on either side of her.

                “Die!” she cried, her fury summoning tears to blur her vision.  She stepped forward to swing again, club pulled back to strike.

                It reared up then, towering over her like a creature straight from nightmare.  Arms rose above her, pointed fingertips nearly touching either side of the hallway.  Balanced on awkward hind legs, it roared in her face.  Amber jerked to a stop, inhaling sharply.  She stumbled back, the club tumbling from nerveless fingers.  The fire of her rage was doused in the ice of fear and Amber fell back against the wall.  Wide-eyed, she stared at the beast and trembled, certain she was going to die.

                But it placed one giant hand on the wall and held itself upright, staring at her.  Studying her.  Breath hissed from its throat in noisy rasps and the tail twitched in her peripheral.  But she couldn’t look away from the golden eyes.  The giant mouth closed slowly, teeth still visible between snarling lips.  Finally, it sank back down to all fours, moving with slow, controlled power.

                Amber’s head followed it, unblinking.  She swallowed when it sniffed at her, nose and tail twitching.  It growled a low warning with narrowed eyes.  Taking a step back, it snorted, breath hissing between closed teeth, and Amber flinched.  For a few heartbeats more, it stared her direction.  Then it backed off a couple steps and curled its long, lithe body in a ‘u’ so it could turn around in the space of the hallway.  It didn’t look back until it reached the corner where it spared Amber a sidelong glance before it prowled away.

                Boneless legs finally buckled and Amber slid down the wall with a shuddering breath.  Reflexively, she grabbed for the club and clutched it against her chest, holding to the semblance of security.  "Oh gods,” she panted as wetness stained her cheeks.  With shaking hands, she swiped the tears away and tried to quell the tremors that gripped her.  She couldn’t find enough spit to wet .  Blood pounded in her ears and she felt deaf.  “Move.  Get up,” she commanded in a broken whisper, fighting back a sob when her body didn’t listen at first.

                “Work!” she hissed through clenched teeth, beating her thighs with her left fist.  Up and down the hall, there was no sign of the beast.  She didn’t know why she wasn’t dead but she didn’t trust he wouldn’t – when did it become a he?  Never mind…  She didn’t trust he wouldn’t come back.  “Move, dammit!” Amber demanded of her reluctant body, shaking even as she finally leaned forward enough to get her momentum going.  Her body had to respond to keep her from hitting the ground with her face.  She was just grateful it did.  On hands and knees, she followed the direction the beast had gone.  Not because she wanted to but because her room was that way.  Safety was that way.

                With the club still held in her hand, she her lips and forced herself to peek around the corner.  He wasn’t there.  But… the door to her room was open.  Amber closed her eyes tight, afraid of what it meant, but then she opened them, afraid he would sneak up on her if she wasn’t looking.  Using the corner of the wall to brace herself, Amber stood up on legs that felt like those of a newborn foal.  She inched along the hallway and finally looked in, her heart quailing when she did.

                He was there.  The beast was curled in front of her door, the tip of his tail twitching against the floor as if counting sheep.  Amber couldn’t quite stifle the cry of despair that croaked from .  Panic spiked when his ears swiveled her direction.  Then the head rose up and turned enough for her to see one eye peering back.  It glared at her from afar, unmoving otherwise.

                Amber fled.  Backing up, she returned to the door she had first come through, followed the hall around the corner, found the door leading to the trapdoor and stepped in.  Splintered wood greeted her.  Shards of a shattered door littered the space, the bolt ripped free and lying nearby.  Striding through the debris, she saw her knife from earlier glinting on the stairs.  Common sense would have suggested she pick it up.  Or pause when she saw the frightened huddle of four tools bunched together at the bottom of the stairs.

                Instead, Amber bypassed them completely, her steps increasing as she cleared the steps.  Her strides lengthened and by the time she hit the courtyard, Amber was sprinting, arms and legs pumping as fast as possible at her side.  “Auntie Park!” she cried as shock threatened to send her consciousness fleeing.  The doorway into the castle banged open when she crashed through it and several tools jumped away.  Running on memory more than active thought, Amber headed for the last house she had been in: the Mayor’s.

                But the door didn’t open at her hand and after banging on it did no good, Amber simply folded to the ground in front of it.  She curled into as much of a ball as she could and hugged herself tight, shaking like a leaf in a storm.  Confusion and concern clustered around, the emotions pressing in while the villagers gathered.  She had no explanation for them.  No answers.

                The only words that spilled from her lips were, “It can’t be true.  I won’t believe it.  It can’t be true.  I won’t believe.  It can’t be true.  I won’t believe it,” over and over again, whispered like a prayer to a long forgotten god.  Rocking like a madwoman, Amber clenched her eyes shut and broke into gasping sobs.