Two hours later, Ivey waited patiently for Seymour out on the large patio of the Tower. There were a few things Seymour had to take care of with her parents before leaving so Ivey had left them alone in the conference room. Standing near the fence, overlooking the outside, Ivey vaguely wondered if they were going to come out the way they had come in—via the lift.

Actually, if I had been paying attention, Father said we'd be traveling via Portal.

Ivey sigh, leaning forward to rest both her arms against the fence. Her third day back from seclusion, and she could barely concentrate much less focus. How was she going to survive the next few weeks?

By letting me take over.

Ivey tensed. The strands on the back of Ivey's neck lifted following a series of slow, soft giggles.

"Who are you?" Ivey's eyes scanned the horizon, watching, listening, for any sort of movement.

The Spirit.

The voice was female, but it did not belong to The Spirit. Ivey had heard all of its characters, and this one was not among them.

Tch, why so suspicious? I won't hurt you...yet.

She was challenging and insulting...and hauntingly familiar to Ivey. Yet, Ivey couldn't quite place it.

Fingers brushed her shoulders.

Reacting on instinct, Ivey whirled, swinging her arm towards the assailant. Her eyes widened as Seymour's confused face came into view, and he brought his arm up to block her attack.

"Are you okay?" Seymour asked, scanning the area with his eyes. "I called your name a couple of times, but you didn't respond."

"You did? How long have you been standing there? How come I didn't hear you." So much for hearing with my eyes and listening with my heart. Had this been a test, Ivey would have failed.

"I've been here for a few minutes already." His eyes drifted to their arms in the shape of an X.

Ivey followed his gaze and immediately pulled her arm away, straightening. "You have? You didn't hear me ask who you are?"

Now that was strange. Ivey was sure she spoke the words out loud.

"What's going on?" His eyes darkened, boring into hers. "Is there someone here?"

Ivey shifted her eyes, waving a hand in the air. "It's fine. I just thought I heard The Spirit's voice and assumed I answered out loud."

"No, something's off. I would have sensed The Spirit if that were the case." Seymour argued, not believing her for a second.

Ivey stared at him. "You can sense The Spirit? I thought only I could."

Actually, now that she thought about it, he had heard the voices back in the cave when they first arrived, when she thought she was going crazy.

"Are you sure you heard something?" Seymour was giving her goosebumps now, from the way he was reacting. Was her life in danger? Other than that incident at the hotel, there hadn't been any other attacks. Ivey couldn't think of anyone that would want to hurt her.

"I—I don't know," Ivey hesitated. "Maybe I'm just overthinking it. It could have been my own voice."

Could it have been my own voice that I heard? Also…Seymour would tell me if my life was in danger, right?

Relaxing a bit, Seymour nodded. "If you hear anything weird or out of the ordinary, let me know immediately."

Ivey nodded, clasping her hands together in front of her. These days it was hard to tell what was normal and what wasn't. Until she figured it out, it was better to just keep it to herself.

"Shall we get going?" Seymour asked, taking a step into her personal space, his voice against her ear.

And her mind went blank.

Ivey reminded herself to breathe, inhaling the fresh, clean scent of soap and mint, as Seymour brushed up against her. When he placed an arm around her though, she forgot to exhale.

"Breathe," Seymour's lips grazed her ear, his voice low, sensuous. "This is exactly like your first time. The distance is longer, which means we'll spend a few more seconds inside the Portal."

Ivey glanced up to find those gorgeous gray-blue eyes staring into hers. Up close, they were intense, commanding, hypnotic, just like his voice.

As if it's not already complicated enough trying to breathe with you around!

"Summon."

Ivey barely had a chance to take in a massive gulp of air before being pulled—or pushed—forward. Unlike the first time, however, Ivey was prepared for the transportation of her life. Perversely, like the third time, it never came. The feeling this time became much less about falling and more of being pushed and pulled. Like flying through the air, except, standing.

At least she started inhaling air into her lungs again.

Ivey's eyes barely adjusted to the change within the Portal, a dark, black space, before the scene shifted. The whirlwind of emotions lasting for only six seconds before ending. Ivey felt the ground beneath her feet once more and bright lights blindfolded her for a moment. The howling of the winds came after, settling roughly against her pores before sprinting away. The amount of force behind it surprised her. Like a jealous lover, the wind propelled her ahead, slightly away from Seymour's embrace.

Yet, Ivey barely noticed. Instead, her eyes landed on the massive beam in front of them, probably about eight stories high. The foundation was made of bricks, but halfway up, it looked like someone had changed his or her mind, deciding to use wood instead. Unfortunately, the color and stain of both were naturally dark and flat, making it a rather dull tower. There was, however, a flair of menace to it.

"It's another tower," Ivey had been expecting a mansion or something a bit fancier like a castle, but another tower? And just one tower? At least her Tower was famous. This one sat in the middle of nowhere, probably visited by no one.

"We'll be meeting with the Crown Jewel," Seymour spoke up from behind her.

"Crown Jewel?"

"The head of the Society of Witches and Wizards."

Before Ivey could respond, another gust of wind blew against her. She had to turn her head slightly to avoid most of the debris collected.

"This is as close as I could get us," Seymour came up behind her and wrapped her in his ample cloak. The smell of him engulfing her once more. "It's going to be about a five-minute walk."

Despite the sun basking the land with its warmth, the winds carried a northern chill. Ivey didn't notice it earlier, but now she could feel its cold fingers against her face—the only area not covered up. While large and bulky, the cloak heated upon contact, warming her instantly. It was also soft and surprisingly light.

"What about you? Aren't you cold?" Ivey glanced around at Seymour. He was in his usual top and linen trousers, but without all the armor. At his waist was the familiar grey wolf insignia with the red threads.

"I'm used to it," Seymour took a few steps ahead of her while Ivey watched. He paused, glancing back towards her.

"Oh!" It took Ivey a split second to realize who he was waiting for. "Coming!"

After catching up to him, Ivey slowed to quietly tread behind him. "Do you do endurance training with your body to get used to the cold?"

No response.

That was fine. Sometimes he talked and sometimes he didn't.

From the tidbits she'd gather, their relationship was more of master and bodyguard, which explained her title and the respect he’d shown her. Unfortunately, Ivey wanted their relationship to be more of a partnership. Only, she wasn't sure how to go about getting there…yet.

Casual talks were a hit or miss depending on the day when one was with Seymour.

When he first appeared before her, he was attentive and, protective. Her face flushed a little remembering the incident in the van. He was also kind to the point of…caring. One could have mistaken his true intentions for something else. However, in the last couple of days, Seymour had become more distant and aloof.

It was a puzzling development, giving Ivey cause, examining the relationship. Right now, they were as close as strangers. However, according to Draco, Ivey King refused to be apart from Seymour for even a second. Not that she would remember.

Could there have been love?

All of a sudden, waves of emotions crashed into her, overwhelming her. So much that Ivey had to stop walking, reeling from it all. Fortunately, they were at the base of the tower with Seymour already pausing in front of the large wooden entrance.

Ivey leaned forward slightly, pressing a palm against her chest. The emotions were distinctive from everything else she felt before. There were no words to describe it other than regret and grief—coming from deep inside her heart, a painful, stifling ambiance.

For some unknown reason, Ivey lifted her head, her gaze sharpening on Seymour's back.

Look at me…

Ivey's voice demanded, but her lips refused to move. Seymour shifted, moving his arms, but never once did he turn around.

Turn around and look at me!

The words were turbulent and sharp inside her head, but all around them, no words were spoken.

Ivey's gaze darkened, staring a hole into the back of Seymour.

Seymour…I order you…to look at me….

Rather than turning around, though, Seymour stepped into the cleared opening. The gate that blocked them before had vanished.

The voice demanded, but the words were never uttered. Ivey absentmindedly followed Seymour through the door.

In the end, all Ivey heard were the pitiful cries that sounded eerily like hers.

@`--,--