Fifteen minutes later, Drake found himself walking alongside of Jordan in the pouring rain. He was so wet that he didn't even bother avoiding the knee deep puddles anymore. He couldn't recall a time that he'd seen it rain as hard as it was. The rain would go in and out between hail and thundering rain, drumming on the cobblestone.

"Drizzle?" Drake asked with an irritable laugh.

"It's not as if I can predict the weather," Jordan muttered to himself more than to Drake. "Come on down through here."

Following Jordan into the last thing that Drake wanted to see, an alleyway, Drake rolled his eyes, hissing, "I don't remember Monorail having so many damn-"

"Shh," Jordan held out a finger in front of Drake's face, irritating him as the rain suddenly subsided to a sort of foggy mist. Drake frowned, glancing up at the sky, that was a bit odd to say the least.

His mind quickly snapped back onto Jordan's finger resting in front of his eyes. He had half a mind to punch Jordan right in the face. How dare he stick his finger in front of him, but voices coming from down the alleyway, echoing against the walls, stopped him short.

"Malik," a young boy's voice whispered, "we've been through nearly half of the worlds looking for this person," the boy stopped to give a heavy sigh, "and we haven't found anyone. This seems to be a waste of time, doesn't it?"

"Do you want to say that again?" An older man's rough voice responded, angrily. "We have seventeen whole more worlds to look through once we are done with this one. You have absolutely no say in the matter, so shut up and stop annoying me. God, you have no idea how much I wish you hadn't been born! It's about ten times worse that you're one of the graces. Seriously, what did I ever do to deserve all of this!"

Then the pair, passed Jordan and Drake, without so much as a sideways glance, a thin, but somewhat brawny, boy with pale yellow hair and a tall older man with graying hair. Drake eyed the younger Damien with a frown as his insides felt like they were melting. Jordan motioned with his head that they'd follow them and so with a heavy sigh, Drake did.

Drake's eyes followed Malik. That man was his real father. Finally he could see him. He couldn't tell much about him at that moment, but he didn't have high hopes since Damien had admitted that the man was undeniably more cruel than himself. What he did notice though was that both Malik and Damien looked half starved and very poor.

Once they were out of the alleyway, Malik turned to Damien and growled, "Stay here I need to go grab a map. This damn city is like a maze!"

Damien rolled his eyes, watching the old man storm off and then he turned around and walked down the street, completely disregarding him.

"Come on," Jordan muttered and they hurried after Damien, who was being stopped by some man with a large sword-like weapon and a guard's suit on.

"What are you doing out here boy?" The guard questioned him. "You shouldn't roam around these parts of the city all alone."

"Leave me alone," Damien snapped and so the guard walked away, wearing both a frown and a look of utter confusion.

Damien rolled his pale brown eyes once more and then continued to walk forwards, but apparently not looking where he was going because he immediately crashed into a young girl with dark hair and icy blue eyes. Both skidded to the wet ground.

Damien leapt back onto his feet almost as soon as he had hit the ground, but the girl, Lyra, sat there stunned for a moment, staring as if paralyzed at the scrape on her knee, which was draining blood down her bare leg.

"Are you all right?" Damien asked, getting on his knees trying to look her in the eye, but her eyes were glued to her knee and soon she began to tremble uncontrollably.

Drake glanced at Jordan with a worried look and made a step forwards, but Jordan grabbed his wrist and when Drake turned to look back at him, he saw Jordan shaking his head no with a warning look.

"Hey, look up at me," Damien muttered as she turned her eyes from her own red blood and onto Damien's. He smiled at her. "It's just a bit of blood," he grabbed the edge of his sleeve and then placed it to her knee, soaking up the blood until it was all dry. "What's your name?"

She pursed her lips, staring at him uneasily. He drew his hand away from her knee and stood up, lowering his arm to hold out the other hand to her. She stood up on her own and turned to leave him without having spoken so much as a word to him. Until, "What did you just say to me?"

Damien shook his head at her, "I didn't breathe a word."

"Yes, you did," she barked angrily, "you told me I was a . . . a stupid bitch."

"I'm leaving now," Damien smiled nervously, raising his eyebrows and nodding, taking a step back.

"How are you in my head?" She asked him, grabbing hold of his hand.

He turned to face her with wide eyes, jerking his hand from hers, "Oh no. No, no, no, no, no! You stay away from me."

"Damien," Malik said slithering up behind the boy and placing both his hands on his shoulders, "who's this?"

"I don't know and I don't care," Damien hissed angrily, "I want to leave. Did you get the map? Please, Malik let's leave."

"Girl, what's your name and how on earth have you kept my son's attention for this long?" Malik asked icily. Drake watched the man's bony, pale fingers dig into Damien's shoulders until the boy was cringing and grinding his teeth. Why didn't he command him to leave him be?

"Ow!" The girl cried out, putting her hands over her shoulders. "Stop it!"

Malik immediately let go off Damien's shoulder and laughing shoved him out of his way sending him to the cobblestone, exclaiming with a cry of joy,"Finally! For heaven's sake, girl I have been looking for you for the last fucking eight years! Tell me where is your family I need to speak with them immediately."

"I am her father," Drake shifted his eyes, shocked to hear a new voice in the group to a man with brown hair, flecked with silver strands, brilliant blue eyes, a face leathered with wrinkles, and a massive time traveler's ring gripping his finger.

"Alastair McClair," Malik smiled, maliciously, "of all the people for this to happen to, I am thankful that it was you. Surely you can understand this quickly and this can all be off my hands."

"Understand what? Who the hell are you?" Alastair asked in a deep calm voice. He glared at Damien as if he could see exactly what he would become right then and there. He put a hand on his daughter's shoulder and brought her closer to him.

"She's the matching pair that I've been looking for," Malik said, exasperated through his rotten yellow teeth, "she will have to come and live with us for two months out of every other year and Damien will live with you for two months of the years between those. As it is written by law"

Alastair shook his head, taking it all in, "And how do you know that my daughter is the matching pair?"

"Damien write something on this back of this map. Alastair cover you daughter's eyes and turn her around," he handed Damien the map and a pen, whereupon Damien immediately began to write. Once he had finished, Malik asked Lyra as softly as he could with his rough voice, "Darling, what's on the paper?"

Alastair released his daughter and she looked up at him nervously, but he urged her on with a gentle smile, "He's written that," her eyes must have met Damien's because she paused to look at the ground nervously, "that this is utterly boring and that he wants to leave now."

Malik tore the map from Damien's hands and shoved it into Alastair's. With a frown the time traveler looked over the words and then solemnly looked up at Malik. "So when must all of this begin? And will you be so kind to at least share with me your name?"

Malik smiled, gruesomely, "No, I don't think so, but either way my share is done for now. You will take the two of them to the king to show him that the graces are paired and together. He will tell you what to do from there. Best of luck."

Then Malik turned and walked down the street without so much as another word. Alastair grunted in disapproval and took his daughter's hand. "Well," he grumbled to Damien, "I suppose you'll be living with us for the next week or so. It's quite obvious what you are and what must be done, despite your father's obscurity. Do you have any luggage with you?"

"Does it look like I do?" Damien barked, gesturing to his torn and stained clothes.

Alastair took a deep breath in and then out as if trying to clear his head, "Then come along . . . will you care to give me your name?"

"Damien White," he hissed through a smile, "what's her's?"

Alastair's mouthed moved more quickly than a regular answer's would, "Lyra McClair."

The time traveler stared at Damien in shock and slight abhorrence. Alastair would probably build some immunity against Damien's mind control over the next week, Drake thought, but it was hard to begin immediately especially when he hadn't been exposed to mind control before. As a twelve year old Damien's mind control was relatively easy to escape if you were prepared, but at sixteen it would become near impossible and at seventeen utterly unattainable.

"Do not do that again," Alastair, said slowly, clearly, and angrily to Damien.

"What will you do to me?" Damien asked as if out of curiosity. "Malik punishes me each time I controlled him or even tried to," he held up both arms, the inside of which were striped with the familiar deep red and white scars as well as a few gaping wounds. Although there were far fewer of them and they weren't nearly as deep.

Drake bit his lip so hard that his teeth punctured the soft flesh and salty blood began to bubble into his mouth. He had never imagined in all of his life that this was how Damien had obtained his atrocious scars. Drake's stomach felt like it was in one enormous knot. He felt like throwing up. Damien was right. The man was vastly more cruel than he was. Images flashed through his head from when Damien had gone to Victoria's funeral. He had seen Malik there and returned home with bloodied arms. Drake sighed as his heart ached. He almost pitied Damien for half a moment.

Alastair's stare softened at he boy, "You don't need to be afraid that I'll hurt you, Damien."

Damien shrugged with a small laugh of annoyance, "Sure you will. I am to be loathed or at least that's what Malik's always saying. There is no love in my power, only fear and that makes people hate and hurt."

"Can you control it well?" Alastair asked him, kneeling down so that he was eye level with him.

"Do you want the truth or what you want to hear?" Damien asked though a stifled yawn.

"The truth," the time traveler replied quickly.

"Then, no," Damien answered. "It's not exactly easy to control the way that you speak. I don't mean to do it more than half of the time. Like just then, when I asked you for her name. Then when I want to use it, when I need to use it," he pulled down his sleeves, "I can't."

"You have a unique power," Alastair placed a hand on his shoulder, "I'll try to make sure that you can cultivate it properly and that you won't end up being used by others for it."

As they followed the three, Drake turned to Jordan, "I was told that Alastair McClair was Petra's grandfather."

"Must have been a lie to keep you form knowing about Damien and yourself," Jordan shrugged.

Drake pursed his lips. It seemed that everyday brought to light a new lie. "And why can't they see us?"

"Well, the ring can make us invisible as well," Jordan shrugged. "But clearly your Jade isn't here."

Drake nodded, "But couldn't she arrive the very next day?"

"There are certain months and days of the year that a time traveler would most likely travel to and judging by the way that you told me she simply disappeared during what was supposed to be the middle of a ball. I think she traveled by random, meaning she forgot to set the ring. So we're hitting the more likely dates first," Jordan responded, "just tell me the moment you sense something from her."

Jordan held out his arm for Drake to take again. With a grimace Drake took it and just as before as soon as he landed this time on his feet he began to throw up into the dark night.