– ed. Jason's feet hit the ground though he couldn't remember jumping in the first place and he staggered back. The stranger caught his elbow before he could crash to the floor. The roar of town life rushing through his ears had disrupted his vestibular balance.

“Whoa,” he groaned, unable to prevent the other guy from gently helping him lie down flat on his back and then on his side. He pressed a hand to his mouth as his stomach spun on the spot like a breakdancer. “Whoa …”

The stranger vanished from sight and returned with a bottle of water. “Don't move until you stop feeling sick. Then drink this.”

Words from his childhood flitted through his ears.

“Jason, do you know what to do if a stranger gives you food?” his mum asked him.

“Don't eat it.”

“What if you're starving?”

“Then ask you if it's okay?”

She muffled a giggle. “And what if I'm not there?”

He shrugged, pouting at the idea. “Then I'll probably die anyway, so I might as well eat it.”

She laughed and shook her head at him. “No matter what happens, you shouldn't eat or drink anything from strangers.”

“What about when I'm big?”

“When you're a big boy, you'll understand why and won't do it anyway,” she assured him.

Sorry, mum. He took the offered bottle and watched the unknown guy as he unrolled a sleeping bag. If I don't drink this now, I'm gonna puke all over Satara or do something just as embarrassing.

Once he had spread the sleeping bag out and placed a small pillow at its head, the long haired stranger approached Satara. He picked her up quickly but with the same level of care. Jason eased himself up onto his elbows with a grimace and tried to breathe away the nausea.

And realised way too late that they were no longer outside the MMA building but inside another one.

A derelict hotel from the look of the ruined decoration and shape of the glassless windows. His eyes grew wider as they swept his surroundings.

How the heck did we get here? Rings of blue flame reared up in his thoughts. A strange hand gesture that looked like the sign of respect he and Satara had chosen for their pre-fight ritual.

By the time he could finally sit up straight and open the bottle, Satara had been moved onto the sleeping bag. Her relative had extended both hands over her as though he were holding defibrillator paddles. His palms lit up, covered in a blue fire-like substance, and Jason choked on his water.

Magic? Is he using magic? Is that how we got here? He clapped a hand to his mouth and carefully shuffled closer until he could see Satara's face. Maintaining a short distance from the stranger whose hands shook even as he passed them over Satara from head to toe. Her skin seemed colourless apart from a splash of red around her neck. Her body motionless until his palms passed over her ribs. She stirred and her usually stoic face twisted into a mask of pain. The other guy held his hands over the same area for several seconds, until sweat shone on both their faces, before moving them lower. He didn't touch her at all.

“Is she gonna be okay?” Jason blurted the question out instead confirming whether he was allowed to speak.

The other's hands stopped glowing and he brought them back to tremble upon his knees. He turned to face Jason and sat back on his heels like someone from an Chinese movie he had watched with Satara years ago.

“Her ribs are no longer broken and I managed to bring down some of the swelling,” he said, removing his sunglasses to reveal slanted dark brown eyes and distinctly tilted eyebrows. “I'll need to treat her for a while longer but I'm afraid most of the damage is beyond my abilities right now.”

He rubbed his forehead, dislodging several jet black strands, and stood up. Taking off his long coat, he folded it up and placed it on top of a large dark grey hiking bag by the nearest wall. His hair had been tied back into a low ponytail which hung between his shoulder blades. He retrieved another bottle of water and returned to his spot opposite Jason. His composure was oddly yet definitely familiar to the sixteen year old.

“What do you mean?” Jason's voice shook unexpectedly. He coughed. “Is she – did that cow do something to her brain?”

“There's no brain damage from what I can tell. Right now Satara is –” Though the stranger's gaze remained steady, his hands folded into fists in his lap. “– She's probably in shock. Having to go through something so painful at the hands of someone who was never supposed to hurt her –”

“Who was she?” The hurricane building in Jason's chest started to go out of control. “Who was that bi-?”

“I'll answer your questions as best as I can but first –” He held up one hand and pointed to the bottle in his other. “– May I?”

“Oh sure. Sorry.” Jason looked away as the other guy drank. He knows her name. Does that mean they really are related?

A paper plate with pizza-like stains poked out from a makeshift carrier bag bin in one corner. His theory was further supported by the small flat box it rested on. The entire place was run down but relatively clean. Does he live here? Who the hell is he?

“Thank you for coming here with me,” said the stranger, pushing the sleeves of his crew neck T-shirt up to his elbows. “My name is Sinastar. What's your name?”

“Jason.” He straightened up as if he were about to meditate, folding one side of his kimono-style shirt into the other and shoving fingers through his hair to even out the undoubtedly tousled strands. “Uh, Sinastar's a – different name?”

“So is Satara,” said Sinastar with a tired smile. “We're not from a recognised country.”

Not from a recognised country? What does that even mean? How can anyone ignore a whole country?

“Where's that?”

“I'm afraid I can't share that with you, Jason. Not yet.” Sinastar leaned forward and Jason blinked for several seconds before realising he was being offered a seated bow. “There may be many things I can't answer but I'll tell you what I can. Is that okay with you?”

“Okay. That's cool.” Jason held up a hand. “Just – can you tell me what the hell happened back there? We were supposed to have a test today. Why did the examiner go all psycho on Tara like that? Actually wait, before that, how the heck did we get all the way here?”

“I wasn't expecting Satara to be unconscious when I arrived.” Sinastar straightened up. “I used zai to bring us here.”

“Zai? What's that?” He pointed at the other guy's hands which raised in acknowledgement. “That magic stuff you used a second ago?”

“Zai is power. Or maybe energy is a better word for it.” Sinastar lowered his palms and glanced at them before looking back up at Jason. “I believe you're familiar with the word chi?”

“You brought us here and fixed Tara's bones with chi?” Jason's eyebrows raised. “I thought that was just stuff you pay attention to when you're meditating. Like inner energy. Not like magic.”

“In our country, we learn how to use chi – zai – externally as well as internally. You can use it for a lot more than what you've seen but it has its limits.”

That sounds awesome but impossible. And it's not the most important thing right now …

“Okay. So why did that psycho beat Tara up?” His eyes narrowed. “Do you know her too?”

Sinastar's chest heaved in a soundless sigh and he half turned towards the unconscious girl beside them. He leaned forward slightly as if he wanted to touch her and make sure she was real.

“Before I answer that, I have to ask … What do you already know about Satara?” He looked sideways at Jason. Soft suspicion flashed like a flying dagger across his stare. “Has she told you anything about her past?”

“I know she's adopted,” he answered at once, resisting the primal urge to shuffle over and place a protective arm across her body. “The Langs ain't her real mum and dad.”

The other guy nodded, clearly waiting for him to expand upon his declaration, and Jason's throat dried out. He had been so glad the day she confessed to being adopted that he hadn't pushed her for any more, giving her time to tell him something else about herself whenever she was ready. Except for the other day, when he asked about her interest in their MMA lessons. The day she had snapped at him for the first time. The day after she pulled away from him outside college as if she were worried being attacked by all the girls who liked him. Which was a ridiculous idea.

Satara can't get beaten up by just anyone. She's the strongest person I've ever known. Always has been. Jayce shook his head without meaning to and drifted into the memory of their first meeting in high school.

“You're up, Jay-jay!” Derek threw his empty water bottle and pumped his fist when it barely missed Jason's head and landed in a bin beyond him.

“What?” Jason rubbed the same side of his face and blew his relief out in a puff of air. He forced his face into a smile. The muscles in his cheeks had been stiff lately.

“We're outta drinks.” Derek gestured at the rest of their friends. Some were sitting on the steps leading up to the second floor. Others leaned against the wall beneath the next flight of stairs. “Get us some more, innit?”

“Ah.” Jason patted his pockets with an apologetic smile. “I didn't bring my wallet today.”

His heart skipped a beat when bulky-bodied, huge-armed Tom straightened up meaningfully opposite him as Derek spoke.

“Again? Didn't you forget it yesterday too?”

“Mum didn't give me money yesterday and I didn't have any left from Monday.” Jason spread his arms out to either side. “Didn't seem to make any sense, bringing an empty wallet to school.”

They were all watching him. Even the kids walking in the corridor beside him. Though when he tried to check if he was imaging things they all seemed to look away at once and carried on doing whatever they had been doing beforehand. Except for two girls who sidled closer, their eyes flitting from him to Derek and then to the landing beyond the steps where Derek was sitting.

“Um, is it okay if we just –?” One of them, cute and blonde, pointed up the stairs with a friendly smile, her hands half curled in front of her.

“Sure –” he began, his words cut off by Derek's sharp voice.

“Screw off. Can't you see we're sitting here?”

“But we need to get to class,” said the other girl who had an upturned nose as her friend giggled helplessly. “Lunch's almost over and –”

“I didn't ask for a sob story. The other stairs is that way.” Derek jerked his chin towards the other end of the corridor.

“We'll be late if we go that way.” The blonde one tried again and Jason almost spoke up for them. “We'll only take a sec –”

“Hey. I said we're busy here, all right?” His friend growled, clearly in a bad mood all of sudden, and Jason looked at the floor. “Get lost.”

He wasn't in the right mood to hear how easy it would have been for him and Mike to shuffle sideways for two seconds so the girls could go past. Just as he wasn't in the mood to find out Jason didn't have money to buy any of them drinks. Jason swallowed down a bubble of dread and by the time he lifted his head the girls were gone.

“Holy crap, why's everyone being so annoying today, huh?” Derek's eyes seemed brighter than usual, smouldering like a piece of coal he had poked with barbecue tongs.

“I'm sorry, man. I'll remember it tomorrow, all right?” Jason stepped closer to him and resisted the urge to hide his hands in his pockets. “And I'll get us chocolate too. That okay?”

He swept the question out towards the rest of the group but none of them answered before Derek. He knew what they would be doing tomorrow and the day after. He knew what was acceptable from them and what wasn't. The only one whose opinion mattered almost as much as Derek's was Tom and that was only because he acted as the other boy's arms and legs. Derek laughed suddenly, eyes closed by the airless sound and widened stretch of his mouth.

“Deal. Don't forget that, Jay-jay.” He nodded at Tom. “Give him some cash for the drinks.”

The relief that rolled down the back of his neck died quickly as Tom advanced on him with no signs of reaching for his own wallet or money. Jason moved before his mind could tell him whether that was a good idea or not.

“What're you doing?” Tom grabbed him by the front of his shirt as he backed away. “I thought you said you had no money?”

“I don't.” He flapped at the hand twisted into his clothes, distracted by Derek's voice.

“Then why were you about to go somewhere without any?” The other boy tilted his head. “You weren't lying to me, right, Jay-jay?”

“Of course I wasn't.” Jason shook his head, breathlessly forcing a laugh.

“Then go get our drinks.” Derek nodded and Tom shoved a ten pound note against his chest.

He stumbled, caught off guard, and landed against someone behind him. Firm hands clasped the back of his upper arms and kept him upright with the stability of a brick wall.

“Ahaha, thanks, dud-” Jason secured the money against his chest and wondered how the stranger had a soft chest when they must work out like crazy. The girl behind him had eyes like shadowed white noise on a TV screen and he extended the word clumsily to compensate for his misjudgement. “-ette. Sorry!”

She held onto him for a moment longer and a faint scowl trickled onto her features. Jason felt like a package being weighed at the post office before the cashier announced a postage price.

“They're your friends?” she asked, pushing him forward until he was standing upright once more.

“Uh, yeah.” He shoved the note into his pocket and the imprint of her fingers continued to burn into his skin. “Why-?”

“I see.” Her attention shifted past him and landed on Derek.

She approached him. Her black hair reached halfway down her back and her posture was unusually good for someone their age. Tom moved as if to block her but she ignored him, tilting her shoulder so it wouldn't collide with his as she passed by. She stopped only once she was standing right in front of Derek and spoke again.

“I need to get past.” She pointed to the second floor and Jason realised the same two girls who had come by earlier were now standing behind him where the new girl had been, eyes enlarged with worry. “Can you move?”

Did they call her for help?

“Something wrong with the other stairs?” Derek slid his foot across the step below his, a lazy coldness on his face as he looked past her at the other girls. They shifted to hide behind Jason.

“No.”

“They why don't you –?”

“This one's closer.” He couldn't see her face but his own posture corrected itself as the underlying growl in her tone scraped up his spine. “And you're blocking the way.”

“So?” Though he laughed irritatedly, Derek also sat up straighter than he had been for the past half an hour.

“So you need to move. Obviously.” She waved a hand sideways, as if he spoke a different language and needed a demonstration to understand what she was asking of him.

“Like I told your two fugly friends over there.” He nodded at the two girls and Jason almost scurried off to buy the drinks before he could get caught up in whatever was about to go down. “We're busy here.”

The girl stayed quiet for a moment and Jason wished she could feel his mental nudge towards the other stairway. Derek was a good guy but when he was in a bad mood he turned into someone else. High school could do that to a person.

“Hey, Satara, it's okay,” said the blonde girl, taking a brave step forward. “We're going to be late. Let's just go –”

“Just to be clear.” Something like a smile but sharper carved Satara's words out of the silence, each one whittled into the shape of a pocket knife. “You're not going move no matter what I say, right?”

“Nope. You're welcome to try getting past by yourself.” Derek's eyes lowered to her legs and then returned to her face along with a disappointed grin. He nodded at her trousers. “Though the view'd be better if you had a skirt on. Are you actually a dude under there – gah!”

Satara moved in a heartbeat, standing perfectly still in front of Derk one second and then angled with her foot on the thigh of his extended leg a second later. Her heel pressed just above his knee, crushing the entire limb against the edge of the step. She half turned and rolled her head pointedly towards the rest of stairs.

“You go first.”

“Are you sure?” murmured her blonde friend.

“Argh, get the hell off me, you bit-” Derek's hand shot forward and Jason barely managed to contain a warning yell.

Satara caught his wrist in one hand. Her other clamped around his jaw and she forced him back down against the steps.

“This is why I don't wear a skirt,” she told him. Derek twisted to kick her off with his other foot but she was faster. Her knee landed on his inner thigh hard enough to make him groan aloud. “Idiots like you are everywhere.”

Holy crap … She's actually fighting him in front of everyone. Does she wanna die? No one else moved, frozen by the sudden downpour of disbelief, except for Tom. The beefy guy stalked towards her and reached for her unprotected back. His fingers had almost brushed her hair when she lifted Derek's face closer and spoke in an extremely clear voice. The kind that teachers often used when they had reached the end of their patience.

“If he touches me, I'll kill you,” she said and slammed his head back against the stone steps before any of them could doubt her.

Derek cried out involuntarily and Jason winced. The impact hadn't sounded to bad but he had hit his lower shins on those steps more than enough to know it must have hurt. Especially when the point of contact was his head. Derek swung out with his free hand but missed her as she turned, keeping both him and Tom in sight. An unhinged smile lurked at the back of her expression like a cornered tiger in a shadowed forest as she stared at Tom. A silent challenge. No, an undeniable threat.

“You freakin' psycho!” Derek wobbled to his feet and clutched the back of his head.

For the first time ever he looked as young as they all were. High schoolers, fresh out of junior school, starting fights in a corridor. It should have been funny. It probably would be once they were old enough to laugh about it. But Jason's heart was beating so fast he thought his veins would pop. Right now everything was scary and it needed to end.

“Are you crying?” she asked Derek, drawing attention to the shininess of his eyes that Jason had been trying not to look at.

Half–cruelly, as if she knew how easy it was to bruise an eleven or twelve year old heart, but also obliviously, as though she wasn't aware of the code and had no desire to learn it.

“No!” Derek's lower lip trembled even as he growled.

“Then let's stop now –” Satara glanced at Tom then back at him. “– before you do.”

She held a finger up as both Derek and Tom started to speak and used it to beckon to the two girls. They hurried past Tom, maintaining a wide berth as they thanked the dark haired girl and hurried up the stairs. Satara glanced in Jason's direction and he froze before he recognised the angle of her gaze, focused on something above his head.

“Lunch's over,” she told them, walking up several steps before pausing to speak over her shoulder. Her tone was colder than it had been in the presence of her friends. “Next time, just move.”

She continued up the stairs and they all seemed to wait for her footsteps to fade before crowding around Derek.

“Hey, are you okay –?” asked someone silly who wasn't Tom.

“I'm fine!” snapped Derek. “We've gotta get to class. Where're the drinks?”

Jason had hurried off down the corridor before Derek could finish his question with the ten pound note crushed in his palm and a guilty smile.

This is bad. Derek's my mate. I know I shouldn't think it but still – He reached the cafeteria and stepped into a short queue as other students peeled away from the counter to get to class on time. He almost didn't realise it was his turn at the till, his senses muffled by the memory of a darkly amused growl. By the rare scent of self confidence that swathed Satara like a billowing cloak. By the lightless field of her stare. – she's so freakin' cool!

He wondered if he would ever see her again. No, he hoped he would.

A while later, the pain that reunited them had been worth it. Jason pressed a palm to his forehead and bit back a bitter laugh. She wasn't scared of Derek. Is that because she'd been through worse crap before she started high school?

“I know she wasn't born here. In this town.” He allowed himself a tight chuckle. “I guess I didn't know just how far out of town that really was.”

“I don't think even Satara knows how far from home she is right now.” Sinastar's eyes wandered to her face. “Though I'm not sure if that's the case any more.”

Home. The word was a lantern at the end of a narrow path that only two people could walk on side by side. The silhouettes ahead of Jason took form. Both of them had long dark hair.

“What do you mean?” Spiders crawled up his back, spinning webs at the base of his uneasy thoughts.

“Satara's my cousin. My father and her mother were brother and sister.” Sinastar looked at him again, his expression a blank mirror.

“Okay?”

“The lady you saw in the hall today. She's not an examiner. Her name is Saytarnia.” His tone lowered over the name as if he didn't want to speak it out loud. Or share it. “She's my cousin too. Satara is her sister.”

“Oh – Wait, what?” She's got a sister?! “'The heck? Why would her sister beat the crap out of her like that?”

Sinastar rose and retrieved the hiking bag, putting his coat aside and rifling through its contents. Jason thought he saw another backpack stuffed inside the first, along with a first aid kit that he took out, several books, a digital tablet, and shafts of wood that one might use to build a fire. Random as hell … There was probably a whole lot more in there but Sinastar withdrew a flannel and another bottle of water before resealing the bag. He soaked the cloth and started wiping the blood from his cousin's skin. He peeled the fabric away from as much skin as possible but safeguarded her modesty as he cleaned the dried redness as though it were a murder location on white sand.

“Hey …” Jason's low protest halted when Sinastar stilled. The angle of his hand concealed a patch of skin he had just wiped. “What is it?”

“There's more to this than I thought, Jason,” replied the older guy. He rubbed beneath the neck of her kimono under shirt carefully for several seconds and folded the material back in place. It rested along her neck at a strange tilt. “A lot more.”

“You gonna tell me any of it or …?” What's he hiding? He couldn't peek without it being obvious. The thought of Satara's face if she caught him trying to look under her clothes only dissuaded him further. 'The hell am I thinking. She's a person, not a crime scene.

“It might be a long story. I want to make sure Satara's comfortable first.” Sinastar slipped both hands beneath her head and lifted it. The air beneath briefly flickered with the same blue light and then faded. He turned her face from side to side then lowered her head back onto the pillow. “She's been through a lot.”

How much? Satara's expression somehow harder in sleep and she seemed to have aged years in the last hour. The centre of his chest tightened. Unspoken words grew tumour-like in his throat. What have you been going though, Tara? I figured you'd be stressed about the end of the fostering term but this is – What else haven't you told me? Did someone force you to keep secrets that were killing you? It that why you didn't tell me anything?

He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing to contain himself. When he opened them again, Sinastar was feeling his way down her arms like a doctor. He moved quickly and bent them cautiously at the joints, doing the same to her legs. She hadn't been wearing shoes in the hall and Jason was glad they had been allowed to wear socks. The idea of the stranger's hands on any more of her skin prodded an ugliness deep inside him and he wanted to look away but he didn't. He couldn't. Not when Satara was in no position to protect herself. Even though the stranger he had only met today seemed oddly trustworthy.

When he was satisfied, Sinastar pulled the unzipped side of the sleeping bag over and tucked it around her. He went over to one of the two windows that were already open and leaned sideways against the wall beside it. He closed his eyes and somehow looked younger, inhaling and exhaling fully like they had been taught to breathe during meditation.

Jason tried not to look at him nor at Satara's faintly tormented expression, fiddling with the ends of his belt. Movement drew his eyes back to the other guy who turned to press his back to the wall and gestured towards the space on the other side of the window with a faint but sincerely warm smile.

“Do you mind if we talk here?”

Jason shook his head and hooked his thumbs in the length of his belt before joining him by the window. They seemed to be standing in one of the flats he could see from his house. The three buildings had been under construction for as long as he could remember, standing tall, lonely, and grey in the distance. The area around it was always cordoned off by metal fences, warding the public away from the dangerous debris scattered throughout it. A patch of evenly toned rooftops, arranged in neat, grid-like lines, revealed Satara's neighbourhood. Between the two lay their school. and the MMA building.

We teleported from there. All the way here. Nausea haunted his stomach like a poltergeist and he swallowed thickly as it truly started to dawn on him. That actually happened. This isn't a dream. Or a nightmare. What else is real? What else isn't?

The shock faded away like mist to reveal a magical and equally terrifying realm. A huge lake of family-related peril in one direction. A whispering forest of secrets in the other. A crumbling mountain of fake reality beneath his feet and, far ahead, the forbidding castle of who his best friend really was.

“Jason, everything I tell you from this point on could put you in danger.” Though Sinastar's tone remained as soft as it had been since he confirmed Satara was safe from any immediate harm, his vaguely villain-like eyebrows drew together over a stare hardened by memories. “Do you still wish to know?”

Danger? Jason blinked and saw Saytarnia's fist collide with her little sister's ribs in a viciously direct blow. Heard his friend's strangled cry as if her screams originated from inside his skull. Satara's been through a lot worse. The least I can do is listen to some words.

“I don't care.” He lifted his chin. “Tell me everything you can.”

This time, I'm gonna protect her.