A building had appeared overnight.

“Whoa . . . all those people!” Nat Ryan said as he came into the common room through the French doors.

Wren Collins was seated on one end of the couch with her feet tucked under reading a book.  Nat smiled at her attire, a dark plaid skirt, crisp white blouse and a simple black tie.  Her curly black hair looked soft and he had an urge to run his fingers through it.

“It's like school all over again except with the wrong ages of people,” Wren placed a finger between the pages and smiled at him.

Nat had reverted to the cutoffs but had found he liked the Hawaiian shirt look.  Today is was a pale blue with parrots and pineapples.  Wren looked him over with hooded eyes and found the effect rather pleasing.

“What do you mean?”

“Scheduled insanity,” she said.

Nat looked horrified.  “THAT was scheduled?!”

He grinned and Wren gave him a level look.  He dropped onto the opposite end of the couch.

“I've been watching the news,” he said.  “Seems Seattle isn't the only one's getting hit.  OH! News credited THAT blast on some guy called Gigaton.  Appropriate name, huh?”

“I'm afraid I don't understand the reference,” Wren said blankly.

“Gigaton . . . nuclear blast . . . the crater left on the Olympic Peninsula . . . “ he offered.

Wren cocked her head and gave him an odd look.  “Oh.  Yes, thank you."

A small face peered around the edge of the open French door then Nicky stepped around and marched, closely followed by Aaron.

“You two look all alone,” he observed.

“Nicky . . . I think we should . . ." began his brother.

“I know what you think, Aaron . . . but this is important!”

“If this involves a prank, think no further in that direction,” Wren warned.

Nicky plopped down on the couch between them, his feet dangling.

“Nope,” he declared.  “I have a deal for you.”

“You know what dad said, Nicky,” Aaron said.

Nicky waved his brother away.

“You guys wanna go for a little trip?”

One elegant brow rose and Wren eyed him warily.

Nat frowned.  “We aren't supposed to leave the Valley.”

“You can't go to YOUR home world,” Nicky pointed out.

“What do you mean?”  Nat said suspiciously.

Nicky looked at them slyly, all but rubbing his hands together in anticipation.  Wren merely gave him a curious look.

“We're too little to get people to talk to us,” he said.  “I thought maybe you guys could help.”

“Nicky . . ." Aaron warned.

“If you keep talking in such uninformative sentences I'm going to get bored,” Wren said already bored.

“Okay,” Nicky said quickly.  “You come with us on a trip, help us get some information and we'll get you out into the city whenever you want.”

“No deal,” Wren said instantly. “I'd prefer not to die.  Thank you for your kind offer, though.”

“Nobody dies!” The boy assured them.  “We been going all over the place and we're all fine.”

“Then you're just little and special,” she told him.

“Little, that's what we hear all the time!” Nicky said petulantly.

“For very obvious reasons,” Wren observed.

Aaron almost crowed.  “Told you they wouldn't.”

Nicky punched him in the arm hard enough that Nat winced.

“But all you gotta do is talk to people,” the boy wheedled.

“What are you looking for?” Nat asked.

“Just a book.”

“Who wants to bet it's a demon book,” Wren looked at Nat, a touch of amusement in her eyes.

“Told you, Nicky!” Aaron said trying to punch him back and missing.

“It's NOT a demon book!” He declared.  “I promise!”

Wren arched her eyebrows.  "Then why aren't you asking your parents to get it for you?  There is obviously something very wrong with it if you're asking us for assistance."

“Dad's too busy!” Nicky said hastily.

“What's the book about?” Nat asked them.

“It's like an encyclopedia,” Aaron said.

“’Like’ an encyclopedia,” Wren said flatly.

“Yeah, I just want the answer to one question,” Nicky told her.  “And it's not on the internet.”

Wren fixed him with a stare.  “May I ask what that question is?”

Nicky eyed her balefully “I can't tell you."

“Then I can't help you,” Wren said simply.

“I'll get Jessy to do it . . .” Nicky said,

Aaron shook his head.  “She isn't going to either, Nicky.”

“But she'll wanna get out of here soon,” Nicky said with an evil grin.  “And we're the only way out.”

He slid off the couch.

Wren shifted, “If you insist.  But you do know that Jessica has a . . . knack for getting into trouble."

“And if Miss Hollywood and Mr. Surfer wanna go, they help,” the boy said, ignoring Wren’s comment.

Aaron sighed.  “She’s right, Nicky . . . Jessy isn't going to help.”

“You're not offering me anything I need,” Wren observed.

Nicky grinned slyly “What do you need?"

Wren’s grin was every bit a sly as the boy’s only considerably more wicked.

“That’s just it . . . nothing you can offer me.”

“You'd be surprised what I can offer,” the boy shot back.

“Nicky . . .” Aaron warned again.

Wren merely resumed her serene demeanor and changed her position slightly.

“She doesn't believe . . .“ Nicky said in wonderment.  “Give me something to prove it!”

“Luthien's not ready!”  Aaron declared.

“Yeah she is . . .”

“Nicholas, really,” Wren said almost exasperated.  “You can't give me the love of my parents and even if you could, I wouldn't want it.”

Nicky looked taken aback.  Nat’s expression turned soft and his total attention was fixed on Wren.  Inside he felt a sudden sadness and something else.

With the nonchalance of a child Nicky headed for the door.  "You guys need anything, see me."   His brother followed.  Aaron stopped to look back at the two and gave them a small apologetic shrug.  Wren winked at him.  Aaron blushed then ran after Nicky.

“Umm . . .” Nat moved forward onto the edge of the couch.

Wren brushed at a non-existent something on her skirt then gave her attention to Nat

“Yes?” she said coolly.

“Love of your parents?” he said, a strange note in his vote.

She gave a little shrug.

“My parents don't love me,” she said.  “It's common in their business.”

“I’m sorry, Wren,” he said sadly.  “My dad disappeared when I was born but my mom loves me.”

“Then you are very lucky,” she said flatly.  She rose from the couch and smoothed her skirt.  As she did, Nat came to his feet as well.  “Thank you, but I have adjusted."

“You shouldn't have to 'adjust' though!” Nat said hotly.  “I always thought a parent's love was unconditional!”

“My parents love each other too much to have room for me.  It's romantic I assume.”

“Must be tough,” he said sympathetically.  “And going to all those boarding schools.

He scanned the room, taking in the shelves filled with beautifully matched hardback books, the computer, the game console, the plasma TV and the expensive furniture.

“I've never live in any place like this,” he said softly.  “Kinda overwhelming for me.”

“You'll get used to it,” Wren said, watching him.  “Everyone does.  As soon as you start to lose perspective, however, I will be forced to, how is it said . . . tell you off.”

“What do you mean?”

“We often received what is called ‘new money’ at the schools I attended.  Fresh meat is another description.  They were good people, generally.  Then they realized what money could do for them.”

“Oh . . .” he saw her point.

Wren lifted one shoulder.

“Well . . . I'll never have any money,” he assured her.  “And this . . . “  He gestured at the room.  “It's not mine.  I'm just a guest until someone boots me out.”

“As you say,” Wren said with a hint of satisfaction.

“You always had a lot of money?”

“Yes.”

“What would you do if it was all gone suddenly?” he asked.

Again the one shoulder lifted.

“Adapt,” she said.  “Just like I do to everything else.”

“Like you adapted to your powers?” he ventured.

“Much like that.”  Her curt little nod made her hair bounce.

“How'd you find out you had them?

“Dancing,” she replied.  “I found I could touch the ceiling when I did a leap.”

“It was surfing for me,” he said.  “This girl was drowning and in a rip current.”

Wren looked up at him sharply.

Nat grimaced.  “Then I started breaking things by squeezing them too hard.”

“Anything important?”

“Just glasses at first,” he said.  “I kinda got the hint not to grab things.”

“That's good then.”

“Yeah, I guess . . . “ he paused and looked down at her.  “You wanna go for a walk?”

A look of confusion crossed her face then a tiny smile formed.

“Okay,” she said.  “Is it too forward of me to ask if I can hide behind you if Jessica comes outside?"

Nat smiled “Only if we can hide behind each other at the same time."

Standing beside her, their height difference was obvious but not all that overwhelming, Nat felt comfortable with the difference, something unusual in his life.

“Okay,” he said.  “So maybe you can hide behind me and I'll take the hit.”

“Oh, I'm sure she wouldn't hit you,” Wren said.  “Not with a limb anyway.”

“What would she hit me with, another sand wave?”

“Mmmm  . . .” she paused in thought.  “You ask silly questions.  You did not tell me where we are going.”

Nat shrugged “Just figured we walk until you wanted to turn back." Then he added.  “I'd kinda like to see that big white tree closer.”

“Everyone loves the tree,” she said, more of an observation than a comment.

“How far you think it is?” Nat tried to gauge the distance.  “Couple miles?”

“I don't really think in miles much anymore,” Wren said.  “But I think that would be right.”

“Three kilometers?” he suggested.

“Yes,” she said, a little surprised.

“That forest with the elves Jessy had the triplets take me to? That’s where that tree came from,” Nat said.  “You wouldn't believe, hundreds of those white trees with a whole city built in the branches.”

Slowly they drifted out the French doors onto the small patio.  Below and to the left, the koi pond and formal gardens, in the distance, over the top of the hulking manor, the single white tree trusting up from the lesser, though still gigantic, Sequoias.

“It must have been very beautiful,” she said.

Nat looked over at her.  "Can I ask you something?"

“You already have,” she tone was slightly playful and a bit amused.

“You ever dress more . . . casual?” he said.  “I mean . . . you look fabulous . . . but . . . it's a forest.”

“I grew up in boarding school uniforms, Nathaniel,” she explained.  “Skirts were mandatory.  I assure you, these shoes will get me anywhere.”

“Isn't it a little boring . . . always dressing the same?”

“Said the man in the perpetual cut off jeans,” she teased.  “Less thinking in the morning, not to mention I'm changing all day.  Besides, I dressed in jeans that one time.

“Okay . . .” Nat hesitated as if waiting for her to act.

Wren sighed, most out of character.  "Would you feel better if I changed?"

“No, that's okay . . .” he said looking her over.  “You look great!”

“What is it with pleated skirts and male fantasies?”

She shook her head and set off, not waiting for Nat.  His eyes went wide at her implication.

“I . . .” he sputtered.  “That's not . . .” 

He sagged and heaved a sigh.  Wren turned around and smiled the first true smile he had seen from her.

“I know,” she said.  “I just like seeing you blush.  Come on."

In a few long strides Nat reached her his face still burning.

“That was mean . . .” he said but there was a hint of a smile.

“Yes, but I am well practiced,” she said.  “Besides, it is true.  Although, usually it is Asian girls in school uniforms.”

“They’re too short,” Nat said.

Wren looked up at him out of the corner of her eye.  “The girls or the skirts?”

He almost stuck his tongue out at her.  Instead he leaned over and scooped up a wild flower.  For a second he sniffed the faint smell.

“I never been in a real forest before,” he said looking around at the sparse undergrowth and lawn-like carpet of grass.  “I wonder who mows all this?"

“Never?”

Nat threw the flower at her and she deftly caught it with her powers.

“San Diego has a great park . . . but this place,” his gesture encompassed the Valley.  “It's real.”

Wren held the flower suspended allowing the faint breeze to rotate it slowly.

"Thank you,"  she said and plucked the blossom from the air and tucked the stem into her hair.  Nat blushed again but the contrast of the yellow bloom against her black hair made any embarrassment worth it.

“Father tended to pick castles in the middle of nowhere for me” she said.  “I am well acquainted with forests.”

“Really?”  Nat shortened his stride to match hers unconsciously.  “Like where?”

They passed a spidery bush with red limbs and dark green leaves.  Nat plucked a few and crushed them, releasing a pungent but pleasant aroma into the air.

“He preferred Britain,” she said.  “Home and all, which would explain the accent.”

“I think it's . . .” he began then tossed the crushed leaves away.  “I thought England was all fog and low hills and I hear the Sherwood Forest was like almost gone.”

She shrugged.

“England might be, but England is not the only country in Britain, Nathaniel,” she said.

“What else is there?” he said.

“And do finish your sentences,’ she chided.  “It is somewhat rude not to.”

He glanced at her profile.  She arched an eyebrow in return.

"Are you asking me what other countries are in Britain?"

“You'll just think I'm being a guy,” he said.

“Perhaps,” Wren said then added.  “But I am well acquainted with your gender, as Jessica keeps repeatedly reminding me.”

“I'm not as well traveled as you,” he said, “maybe we need to ask about a field trip to Britain.”

“Perhaps,” Her voice had dropped to a whisper and together they both looked up the looming trunk of the tree.

“Wow . . .” he said in awe.  “That's like...a thousand feet!”

Nat froze and put his hand out in front of Wren to stop her.  He point and her eyes followed the finger to a small deer lying in the shadows.

He whispered “I wish I could pet it  . . . without hurting it.”

“You could learn,” she said softly.

Nat looked over at her and their eyes met.

               “You really think so?”

               “I know so,” though she no longer whispered the deer didn’t seem alarmed.

               “I’ve always wanted a cat,” he said quietly.

               The deer came to its feet, not in alarm but naturally as if it had rested enough and it was time to move on.  It took a few dainty steps then paused to watch them.  When they made no move it continued to move away from them.  Two meters further and it bounded off.

               “Have you ever had pets?”

               He realized his hand still blocked Wren’s path and lowered it.  She gave him ‘think about what you're saying’ look.

               “Sorry . . . guess not much chance of pets in a boarding school.”

               Together they stepped out into the wide clearing surrounding the base of the tree.  The sunlight caused Nat to blink as the white reflected it back.

               “It's like . . .” He moved up to it and placed a hand on the bark.  “There’s writing here.”

               Nat traced the unfamiliar letters with his fingertips.

               “Looks Arabic,” he suggested.

“Really?  I can read a little . . . From my mother, you know.”

Wren stepped in closer. 

“My mother is from Egypt, but, well, they don't often speak ancient Egyptian.”  Her fingered the script and shook her head.  “This, however, is nothing I have seen before."

There was a whisper of sound and a tall elvish-looking man dressed in flowing robes stepped up between them.  Wren jumped, spun to face the man her eyes a little wild.  She was not used to people sneaking up on her like that.  Nat barely flinched.

“It is Tengwar" He said.  "The written language of the Elves."

“I'm sorry to disturb you, sir.” Nat said.

“It is the family tree of the new Fireoak forest,” the man said, touching the bark.  “This one says ‘Wren Collins’.”  Wren’s eyes widen in what Nat recognized as fear but she was trying to control it.  The man touched the figures beside the first.  “And this is ‘Nathaniel Ryan’.”

“A family tree,” Wren surmised.

The man smiled slightly, “Yes, a family tree."  He touched a spot above and between the two names.  “There is much room for growth.”

Nat glanced at Wren.

“You and your children will forever be enshrined here, even onto the end of the Earth.”  He looked from one to the other, a look full of portent.

“I'm not sure whether to be touched or very, very disturbed,” Wren said.

The man smiled “Be disturbed."

“Good, that's what I was leaning towards,” Wren admitted.

The man turned with a swirl of the long white robes and rose up the boll of the tree as if on an invisible elevator.

Nat whispered  "Who's he?"

“I've not a clue but he seems to be well trained in dramatic entrances and exit.”

Nat snorted, barely suppressing a bark of laughter.

“It’s nice to see you do have a sense of humor under that cool exterior,” he said with a gentle smile.

He move closer and traced his name with the tips of his fingers.

“Not every long . . . Nathaniel Ryan,” he said.  “They must combine some letters.”

Wren’s silence made him turn to her.

“Why are you disturbed?” he said with a touch of concern.

“The idea of someone I do not know carving my name into a giant tree strikes me as odd,” she said.

“This whole place is odd.”  He gestured at the huge tree, the surrounding forest and the very sky.

“This is the epitome of odd.”

“The Acme of Weird?”  Nat grinned at her.

“Once again, I do not understand the reference, but I think so, yes.”

“Guess you don't watch cartoons?” He sounded incredulous.

“Not much of a chance, I'm afraid.”

Wren took a deep breath and inspected her name.

“Ever been to Mickey D's?”  Nat asked.  “Or a movie?  Disneyland?”

She counted the letters in her name then said, “Yes, but I don't eat grease.  Yes, more than I can count.  No, my main bodyguard didn't like roller coasters."

               “Bodyguard?”

               “Yes.”

               “Man, that doesn't sound like much fun,” Nat said.  “Wish I could take you on a coaster, they're a blast!  Almost as good as surfing a big wave.”

               “We'll have to work on that,” Wren replied.

               “Umm . . . you  know . . .” Nat looked down at his hands as he fidgeted.  “You've seen so much . . . but . . . I don't think for all your money and travel . . . you've gotten to enjoy life.”

               “If you're expecting an argument, you'll be waiting a while,” she said.

               “Maybe it'll change here,” he sounded hopeful.  “Ready to go back?”

Wren paused, touching her name once more.  "Yes, I think so.  I'll come back later."

Nat smiled “I don't think they'd like it if you erased your name."

A shaft of sunlight penetrated the forest canopy at that and Nat stepped into it.  Spreading his arms wide as if to embrace it he turned his face to the sky.

“No fun at all, you . . . are . . .” Wren stopped midsentence and smiled at this huge boy, at his simple joy in a shaft of sunlight.

Slowly, like a great tree, he fell backward, landing on the grass with a soft thud.  He signed deeply and with his eyes still closed said  “This is the most beautiful place in the world."

He opened one eye and looked at Wren.

“Come on!" he urged.  “Feel the sun . . . Come on, Wren . . . stretch out.  Grass stains wash out.”  He closed his eyes again.

Wren very cautiously lay down in the grass beside Nat, mindful of her skirt even with the closed eyes of her companion.

“Shh . . . close your eyes, listen to the birds!” he whispered.

Nat cocked his head on the grass, catching a myriad of songs from all directions. 

Wren closed her eyes, speaking quietly.  "You're the one who's talking."

               Both smiled unseen by the other and let the heat soak into their bodies.  Nat grinned and rolled to his side facing Wren.  He propped his head up on his fist and took a moment to look at her.  She lay perfectly composed, hands folded on her tummy and he had an urge to do something he’d never done before but it wasn’t time.

               “Okay,” he said, coming to his feet and bloating out the sun.  Wren opened her eyes in confusion.  He reached down and took her hands.  “Get up lazy!”

               He pulled her to her feet, not noticing how gently he had done it.

               “Oof,” she said, catching her balance and managing not to bounce off his chest.  “Do you happen to suffer from multiple personalities?”

               He released one hand and she quickly brushed the grass from her skirt.  He held the other hand then bowed clumsily.

               “May I have this dance?”

               Wren curtsied with a practiced ease.  "My pleasure."

               Nat grinned "Okay, but you lead!"  He laughed.  “Show me what to do.”

               Wren smiled a little, gently placed his hand on her waist and taking up his other.

"I can start you off with a simple step.  It's like a circle."  She lead him around, mindful of the rocks and roots.  He managed not to step on a single toe and does so without watching his feet.

“You're quite good,” she praised.

“We'll see what you say when I dent you,” he said with a smile.

“I do not break easily, Nathaniel,” she assured him.

“You got like a force field or something?”

“Yes,” she admitted.  “I will not need it.”

Nat slowly took the lead as he grew more confident.  They moved around the clearing to the music of the birds and the wind through the trees.

“What's this? A waltz?”

Wren smiled.  “Very good.”

He improvised a little, turning her away then back.

“Wouldn’t it be something to dress like that?” he said.  “You know, Vienna a couple hundred years ago?”  He grinned.  "I can see me in tights and a powdered wig . . . I’d feel like the hippos in Fantasia.”

“Shh,” she said.  “You're blathering.”  She smiled.  “It's endearing.”