"Go left! Go left!"

"No, go right!"

"Go straight!"

"Flyyyyyyyyyyy!"

"Will you guys shut up?" Cameron hissed under his breath. "I'm still half a block away from the corner!"

The voices giggled in his head, and he sighed. A week had passed since he found out who his father was, and so far, he hadn't really told anyone about it. He wasn't sure if anyone believed him, and he didn't want anyone coming after him because of it.

"Okay, so seriously go right at the next intersection."

"Yeah, you'll want to go right. There's this nice little place you can have breakfast at."

"Order the waffle sundae."

"No, don't order the waffle sundae, it's breakfast, not dessert."

"Order breakfast, then order the waffle sundae."

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

"Ooh, a sundae sounds so good."

"Can you guys even eat?" Cameron asked. "Aren't you just voices?"

He sensed confusion and amusement, and looked at the woman who had heard his sudden outburst. Face flushing, he hurried up, doing his best to put her behind him as he felt the chill of autumn brushing his cheek.

"Makes me wish I could have food."

"Yeah, being a disembodied voice makes it hard to ever do anything physical."

"You know, that lady was kind of cute, Cameron, maybe if you-"

"Stop!" He hissed under his breath, face flushing further.

Cameron turned the corner, doing his best to tune out the voices that weren't guiding him to the restaurant. It was a twenty-four hour chain diner.

Hoping that he'd be seated and not questioned, Cameron entered, then shifted nervously as he waited for the hostess to arrive.

"Hi, sweetie," she said. "Are you looking for someone?"

"No," he answered. "I, um, wanted to eat breakfast."

"Don't you have school soon?" She asked, and he checked his watch, finding it was a little after nine in the morning.

"No," he looked at her. "I'm home-schooled. Dad had to do some stuff, and told me that I could come here for breakfast while he was shopping a few places down."

"Say he's custom ordering new dining room table and chairs."

"Ooh! Yeah, there's a custom furniture store down the road. Hailey's Hand-Carved Furniture. You passed it on your way here."

"He's ordering new furniture as the hand-carved place down the road," Cameron shifted again. "Said it'll be awhile before he finishes. He'd already had breakfast, and we had to go before I could eat."

The hostess hesitated, and Cameron tapped into her thoughts. He knew then that she was considering seating him and calling either the police or children's services, guessing he was either a runaway or abandoned.

"If you want to compulse her into letting you sit without that, I can teach you how."

Cameron shifted at the uncomfortably-deep voice that echoed in his head. Another one that had been silent, only heard once before, when the truth serum from Elaine forced all of the voices into talking.

"I-"

"Cameron?" A voice asked, and Cameron felt a familiar mind register with his empathy.

Turning, he found Abigail, the social worker from a few weeks before, standing there, looking at him curiously.

"H-hi, Abigail," his face flushed.

"You totally think she's cute, don't you?"

"Sh!" He hissed under his voice, then blushed deeper.

"Good morning, Cameron," Abigail chuckled. "Having a bite to eat?"

"Um, yeah," he shifted. "Dad made me come out with him when he went to order more furniture. At the hand-carved furniture place down the road. He, um, he said I could come here and eat breakfast while he did that, 'cause it'd take awhile. Mom had to leave for work, so I'd have just been at home."

"Why don't you eat with me?" Abigail asked, and Cameron knew she was amused, momentarily confused until one of the voices reminded him that she had already assumed he was a street kid.

And then he realized that they'd probably planned on him meeting Abigail there.

"Um, alright," he said. "I-I can't pay for you, though. Dad didn't give me enough."

Actually, Cameron could pay for her. He had all of his money on him, and after five matches against Eden, he had plenty of it. Adam was more than willing to change his bills to bigger ones in their training sessions. The only reason he often received smaller bills after the matches was because the cash given mostly came from the cash received.

Remembering the matches, Cameron thought about that night's match. He'd nearly lost against Eden the week before, and wasn't sure if he'd be able to win again. Eden had managed to create a rudimentary mental block, and it had delayed Cameron enough for the older boy to get a good punch in.

"Cameron?" Abigail asked, and he jumped, realizing that he'd zoned out. "Come on, let's go eat."

"Um, alright."

"I'm paying for myself," she smiled at him. "I wasn't going to expect you to feed me."

He nodded, then followed her and the hostess to one of the booths in a quiet corner of the restaurant. The hostess set down two menus and rolls of silverware as they sat, and Cameron picked up the menu and started looking through it.

"So how's school going?" Abigail asked after they ordered their drinks.

"It's-it's going okay."

"You've gained a little bit of weight," she commented. "Eating well?"

"Y-yeah," Cameron nodded. "D-Dad found someone to teach me martial arts, too."

The waitress returned with their drinks and took their breakfast orders, before leaving again.

"So you're learning martial arts?" Abigail asked.

"Y-yeah," Cameron nodded.

"How's your mentor?"

"Fri-friendly," Cameron answered. "He also taught me breathing exercises. Said it'll help ground me. One of them takes ten minutes to do."

That wasn't fully true – Adam wasn't actually teaching him martial arts. But he was a mentor teaching him stuff.

"It does?" Abigail asked. "That's impressive. You're twelve, so I'm sure that must be a struggle for you."

"Yeah," Cameron smiled shyly. "It was really hard, but he's been helping me for a few weeks now, and I'm getting better at it."

"How do you feel, when you finish?"

"Really good," Cameron answered honestly. "I feel all calm and stuff."

"Do you only do it when you're with him?" She asked. "Or do you practice it when you're alone, too?"

"When I'm alone, too," Cameron answered. "I like feeling all calm. The voices quiet down when I'm doing it."

"Mostly because you start shrieking if we don't."

"Yeah, that really hurts our ears."

"You guys don't even have ears," Cameron hissed, then blushed, looking down at the table.

"It's okay, Cameron," Abigail assured him. "I'm not going to laugh at you or anything. So. Halloween's next Friday, got any plans for it?"

"Just hanging with a friend," Cameron shrugged. "I'm going to battle against another friend."

"Battle?" Abigail asked, and Cameron blushed again.

He hadn't meant to say that. He found himself opening up again, even though he didn't want to. He found himself doing that a lot lately. Greyson and Blake were both cool people, and Adam made it easy to think of him as a friend, too. He was still cautious, though, and always ready to run at a moment's notice.

It's why he had all of his money on him, and why he was sitting at the edge of the booth by the aisle. To let him move faster and be gone instantly.

"We duel," Cameron nodded, hastily thinking up something to explain the battling. "See who's better. We-we're both the mentor's student. He has us spar with each other every Friday. It's the only time we're allowed to fight each other."

"Ah," she smiled. "So who's the better martial artist?"

"He is," Cameron answered. "He was doing it long before me."

"It doesn't sound very fun if you're going to lose every time," she said. "Are you forced to fight him?"

"I have fun," Cameron smiled. "I've won every match so far, even though he's better."

"Oh?" She asked. "How do you do that?"

"I have a secret weapon," Cameron answered, and she laughed.

"So," she said. "Is there anything else you're doing for Halloween? Going trick-or-treating? Getting dressed up?"

"No," Cameron shrugged. "I don't like Halloween."

"Why not?" She asked.

"Because everyone's always more interested in it than celebrating my birthday."

Cameron stiffened, his face flushing, as he realized that he'd said that out loud.

"Your birthday?" Abigail asked. "Your birthday's around Halloween?"

"It is Halloween," Cameron quietly answered. "And I've never gotten a present for it. It's not very fun."

Their food arrived, and Cameron dug into it quickly, not answering any more questions from Abigail by making sure his mouth always had food in it. She stopped asking as soon as she noticed him doing that, which made him feel a little better.

He'd given away information he hadn't meant to, and knew it meant he was losing his edge. He was getting too comfortable. Cameron extended his mental range again, up to fifty feet. Sensing the extra minds brought him back to alertness, he felt.

Spending so much time with Greyson and Blake probably did this to me.

"So," Abigail said once they finished eating. "It was nice seeing you again, Cameron. Maybe we'll see each other again?"

"Maybe," Cameron shrugged.

Not if I can help it.

Abigail paid for her food and left, and after a few minutes, Cameron did the same. As he walked down the street, he sensed familiar minds and stopped, looking into the window of the place he'd sensed the minds within.

It was the hand-carved furniture store that voices had told him about, that they made him use as a cover. When he looked through the windows, he saw Elaine inside, speaking with the worker behind the bar.

Hurrying, he pulled his mental range closer in. She felt aggravated about something. Annoyed. He didn't like her, either, and didn't want to brush her mind.

Cameron walked down the streets, noting that the voices were being unusually silent. He could sense them, but they weren't guiding him. That wasn't all that uncommon, as they often only directed him when they wanted him to avoid something or to be somewhere, but the fact that none were talking bothered him. Even the one who liked commenting on every female who passed them was silent.

"Guys," Cameron muttered under his breath. "Why aren't you talking?"

"Oh, no reason."

"Yeah, no reason at all."

"By the way, some men are going to attempt to kidnap you."

"Yep. They've actually got it pretty planned-out."

"To the point that even our guidance can't get you free."

"You really need a phone. If you could call for help, you could definitely get out of there. Boom. Eden shows up, boom, you and Eden are gone."

Cameron froze. People were planning on kidnapping him, and the voices couldn't get him out of it. And they knew about it. To plan a kidnapping that well…. he wasn't a random target. Someone was targeting him.

Rapidly expanding his mind to its limits, Cameron sensed them. There were more than fifty of them. Tapping into their thoughts, he learned that their plans for him were because someone, somehow, managed to acquire a read on his magical might and sensed that he was powerful.

Blake and Greyson had told him about the mage trafficking circles and that they hunt down anyone with awakened magic, collaring them and selling them off as slaves. They'd first look to see what his magic was, and if they found out he was a natural mind mage, they'd probably sell him for quite a lot.

He'd be forced to use his magic for evil. Cameron began trembling. He didn't want to be a mage slave, and he didn't want to use his mind magic for evil. From what he could tell, the traffickers didn't know what his magic was, it was just because of how powerful he was.

"Can-my father can't-does he-"

"No, the angels aren't watching you."

"Yeah, he's not that kind."

"You're only half-god, and even if you were wholly-god, Ulrima wouldn't actually care that much."

"Well, he does care, it's just complicated. He focuses more on divine and heavenly beings who mess with his kids, not his mortals."

"So you can't call for help."

Cameron blinked a few times. He could call for help. Taking a deep breath, he kept walking, bumping into a woman passing him. Not even a step later, he was praying her phone wasn't locked. It was, so he dropped it, nicking three more phones before finding one that wasn't locked, praying he was fast enough.

He quickly dialed a number he'd been given a long while ago just as he sensed the first batch of kidnappers approaching him.

"Hello?" A tired voice responded on the fourth ring as Cameron's panic continued to mount.

"Wh-what are the requirements, if I accept the offer?"

"Two hours a day, three days a week, minimum."

"N-no, the cost!" Cameron stumbled back. "Um… please be fast!"

"Is everything alright?"

"You said you can protect me, no matter what, so long as I was in or near your territory!"