“Quatre, step away from there!” A slight young boy of about seven with blonde hair stepped away from the railing of the Brian Boru obediently, but cast his large blue-green eyes to the ground sadly. His mother, a woman in her 30s with dark blonde hair, blue eyes, and a slender figure looked at him disapprovingly. “Really, must you sulk? Ireland will be lovely.”

Quatre sighed and continued to stare intently at the deck, replying reluctantly, “I didn’t want to leave Boston.”

“Nonsense, dear! Boston was so crowded. Robert has lots of beautiful land in the country and a wonderful old house. I’m sure you’ll adore it there!”

Quatre frowned, but looked up at her skeptically. “Well, will there be others my age to play with?”

“Hm? Oh, I don’t know. But you can talk to your sister, can’t you?” She replied distantly, distracted by her own thoughts.

“All Katy does is play with dolls.” He muttered under his breath.

His mother sighed wearily. “Well, I’m sure you’ll have plenty to do once you get there. Come along, we’ll be late for dinner.”

“But I wanted to watch the dolphins play by the bow!” He exclaimed, pointing towards the front of the ship.

His mother took his free hand into hers. “They’re just fish, Quatre.” The boy looked behind him longingly as she pulled him away, but followed submissively.

February 8, 1892

Quatre stared out the window of the carriage at all the sites before him, his eyes wide. “What’s that?” He asked, pointing excitedly to an old ruin.

His new stepfather looked out the window. “It’s just an old castle.” He replied dismissively.

Quatre watched the castle intently as they passed by, and continued to inspect it until it was too far back to see. When he looked ahead of the carriage again he noticed a small cottage with two young boys playing in front. “Look! There are kids I can play with here!”

“No, son. Those are the tenant’s children. You’ll have many other things to do.” Quatre frowned at the man. He had only known Sir Robert Morland for a little while, but he already disliked the way the he always dismissed all of the interesting things, his snobby English accent, and the fact that he had taken to calling Quatre son. “If you look ahead you can see the house now.” His stepfather added proudly.

Quatre sighed and leaned his head against the side of the carriage as he mother and sister eagerly looked out. “Great. When is supper?”

“Dinner,” Sir Morland corrected firmly. “Is at six sharp. We’ve just enough time for a tour beforehand.”

The carriage finally came to a halt as it reached the house and Quatre waited patiently as Sir Morland helped his mother and Katy out. Katy tugged on his arm impatiently, whispering. “Hurry, Quatre! Don’t you want to see the house? It looks just like something from a fairy tale!” She commented as she turned to stare at it in awe.

He nodded reluctantly and jumped out of the carriage as well, looking up at the gothic style house. The stone-gray walls of the castle-like building seemed dark and foreboding next to the memory of the pretty blue Victorian home Quatre remembered. He faltered slightly as Sir Morland led the others in the heavy wooden doors, but ran to catch up with them. Sir Morland gave them a tour of the main rooms, and then called a tall, kind looking man with light brown hair over. “Quatre, this is James. He’ll show you to your room so you can get ready for dinner. Don’t be late.”

Quatre nodded and followed James out into the hall and Sir Morland called a maid over to show Katy to her room. “It’s good to meet you, Mr. Rowden.” James commented as they walked through the house.

“Do you have to call me Mr. Rowden? Can’t you call me Quatre?” He asked meekly, uncomfortable with the formality.

James smiled slightly. “If you want me to, I can when Sir Morland isn’t around.”

Quatre nodded. “I like that better.”

“Very well then. Quatre it is. So, do you like it here, Quatre?” James asked, looking down at the young boy, a kind smile on his face.

Quatre blushed and looked away. “Not really. I miss Boston. There’s no one to talk to here.”

“Well, I’m nowhere near your age, but if you ever want to talk to me, I’ll be more than happy to listen.”

“Thanks.” Quatre responded, then grinned as a thought occurred to him. “I don’t suppose you have any kids my age to talk to?”

James laughed slightly. “I have two sons your sister’s age and older, one son that’s younger than you, and a daughter that would be just your age. But, they’re all at home with their mother and they never come here.”

Quatre’s smile faded quickly. “The only one my age is a girl?”

James smiled slightly and stopped in front of a door. “This would be your room, Quatre. Dinner will start in half an hour, so you should start getting ready. I’m glad I finally got to meet you, Quatre.” He smiled once more and then walked away.

Quatre sighed and walked into his room, cleaning up for dinner. After he finished he hurried out of the room and towards the dining room. He got confused on the way, but eventually found his way into the right area of the house and ran into the room, skidding to a stop as he saw Katy, his mother, and Sir Morland all staring at him from their spots at the table. “You’re late, Quatre.” Sir Morland stated firmly. “I don’t tolerate tardiness. I’ll let it pass this time, but don’t let it happen again.”

Quatre nodded and looked down, replying meekly, “Yes, Sir Morland”, and taking his seat at the table. He ate his supper in silence before going back to his new room to sleep, ending his first day of the many he would spend in Ireland.

March 7, 1895

“James!” Quatre called with a large smile on his face as he walked out of the stables from his ride and saw the man standing outside the building. He ran towards James, but stopped when he spotted two boys standing next to him. One had light brown hair and about average height for his age, which was probably around Katy’s age. The second looked to be around 16 with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and was almost taller than James himself, which to Quatre seemed enormous.

James turned to him and smiled warmly while the boys regarded him with cool stares. “Quatre, these are my oldest sons, Rory and Sean. Boys, this is Sir Morland’s step son, Quatre.”

Rory, the eldest, stared at Quatre icily and gave a short nod. Sean, not much friendlier, replied shortly, “Hello.”

Quatre managed a small, nervous smile. “Hello. It’s nice to meet you both.”

James, oblivious to his sons’ attitudes towards Quatre, continued to smile. “What are you doing out here, Quatre?”

“I just took the Arabian out for a ride.” He replied softly. “Then I saw you and thought I’d say hello.”

“Well, I’m glad you did.” James added in the same friendly voice. “Sir Morland has kept you busy with the tutor and I haven’t seen you in days to see how you’re doing. Introducing Rory and Sean to you is quite a pleasure as well.” Quatre nodded agreement but could tell from one glance at them that the two boys were less than pleased. “We need tae be goin’ back now, Da.” Rory replied, his Irish accent far more prominent than his father’s.

The smile disappeared from James’ face for a moment. “Then go home, and spend some time with your family. You’ve been gone for a week and you were missed, by your sister especially.”

Rory nodded, his face mostly expressionless except a slight glimmer in his eye. “Aye, an’ she’ll probably be the first tae come runnin’ out the door tae welcome us back. Come on, Sean. Good bye Da.” He paused for a moment, then added coolly, “Good day tae ye, Quatre.” Quatre watched in unease as the two boys mounted their horses and rode off.

“They just got back from a trip to Dublin an’ were passing through to tell me.” James spoke up when they were out of view. “So now you’ve met half of my children, though the younger two might have been more apt to form a friendship.” Quatre nodded uncertainly. “Why were they in Dublin?”

James stared off at the horizon for a while before finally looking at Quatre and smiling. “It’s about time you get ready for dinner.”

“Okay. Good bye, James.” Quatre said with a wave and one last questioning glance. He hurried back to the house and with a glance at the grandfather clock in the main hall, rushed to the dining room, not bothering to wash his hands or face beforehand. He put his hand on the door, ready to open it, but froze as he heard Sir Morland. “Where is that boy? He’s late again!”

Quatre sighed and slowly opened the door, quietly walking into the room. “I’m here.”

“Where have you been?” Sir Morland asked sharply.

Quatre glanced around the room quickly before responding, “I was out riding and lost track of time.”

“We’ll talk about this later. For now, go up to your room.”

“Fine.” Quatre replied shortly, turning to walk out of the dining room and up to his own room. He sat by his window sullenly for quite some time, too distracted to read a book or work on anything else. It wasn’t until sometime after eight that he went to Sir Morland’s office, knocking softly on the door and entering when he heard a muffled, “Come in” from the other side. He walked into the dark office and quietly closed the door behind him, standing completely silent with his hands folded behind his back and his head bowed slightly.

Sir Morland glanced up at Quatre, his eyes narrowed coldly. “I’ve warned you before that you should be prompt.” He said, his voice calm but angry and commanding. “You looked as though you hadn’t prepared for dinner at all, like some insolent Irish heathen. Your behavior reflects on me and I will not look like a fool. Do you understand?”

Quatre was silent for a moment before finally muttering a quiet, “Yes, sir.”

Sir Morland stood up and walked towards him as a commanding officer would approach an insubordinate recruit. “You are not to leave these grounds without my permission, and there will be no more afternoon rides either. I think more time spent in study would be appropriate, and I mean real academics, not senseless arts like music or painting.”

“But I-“ Quatre raised his head to look at his adversary, starting to protest. He flinched as Sir Morland raised a hand, as if to hit him.

Sir Morland pointed a stern finger at him and went on slowly and dangerously, emphasizing each word. “Don’t you dare question me.” Quatre quickly glanced back to his feet, afraid to say another word of protest, and Sir Morland started his lecture once again. “As your you mother’s husband and your benefactor, I have every right to decide what is best for you. So you will dedicate your time to your education, and when the time is right you will go to a university somewhere and study law or a similar, stable career. Once you have established your life and married a proper, wealthy, aristocrat then you may make your own decisions. Until then, I suggest you do exactly as you are told. I won’t have anyone under my roof conversing with servants and barnyard animals, or pursuing a life as a starving artist. Do I make myself quite clear?”

Quatre closed his eyes and nodded silently. Sir Morland sneered and turned to walk back to his desk, adding only a disgusted dismissal. “Then go back to your room.”

Quatre turned stiffly and left the room, tears stinging his eyes as he approached his sisters room and knocked softly on the door. Katy answers and looked out, her blue eyes curious as peeked out. She seemed surprised and confused as she saw his crestfallen look. “What’s wrong, Kit?” She asked in concern, affectionately calling him by the nickname she sometimes used. She held open the door and let him inside.

“Sir Morland told me to spend more time studying important things, instead of the arts. I can’t even leave the grounds without his approval.” He replied, sitting in a nearby chair and burying his face in his hands.

Katy sighed and wrapped a sympathetic arm around his shoulders. “I wouldn’t worry too much, he’ll ease up after a while.”

“I doubt it.” Quatre replied scornfully. “He hates me. To him I’m just a albatross hung round his neck.”

Katy smiled sadly and hugged him. “Don’t get too discourage, Kit. He’s not fond of either of us. Anyway, I’ll be glad to help you sneak an afternoon or maybe midnight ride in if you ever want to get out. There are always his trips to London and Dublin as well. He can’t see what you do if he’s not here.”

Quatre sighed and nodded, still significantly depressed. “I guess so.”

“Then don’t worry about it too much.” She responded with a genuine smile. “It’s late and about time you were in bed. Sweet dreams, Kit.”

“Good night, Katy.” He said with a half-hearted smile and turned to go back to his own room.

June 11, 1902

Quatre slid quietly into the music room, walking over to his violin and slowly picking it up. Sir Morland highly disapproved of his love of music, stating a million times that music was a past time and not a career. The only thing Sir Morland hated more than when Quatre wasted time playing his violin, was when he played his violin before a party when he should be getting ready. If Sir Morland had his way, Quatre would spend his life in a job where he did nothing more than sit behind a desk and order others around and then go home to a perfectly beautiful, perfectly proper, perfectly snobby English wife. Quatre despised the idea. He opened up the piano bench and slid out the piece he had just finished the day before. It was only the second song he had finished, but he was quite pleased with the results. After setting up a stand and setting the music on it, he lifted the violin and played the piece, putting his heart into every note. Once he had played the last note, he looked up at the clock and sighed, realizing he should start getting ready soon. He slowly put the violin away, walking out the door and bumping into someone on the way out and dropping the sheets of music. “I’m sorry.” He muttered quietly in time with the other person, then bent down to pick up his music and felt a flash of pain as they bumped heads. He apologized once more, rubbing his forehead slightly before training his eyes on the papers as he picked them up.

“That was a very beautiful song.” A female voice with an Irish accent commented softly.

“I didn’t know anyone was listening.” He responded shyly, looking up for the first time. He slowly inspected the girl in front of him, taking in her slight figure and pale skin. Her long, light reddish-brown hair was pulled back, but a few strands had worked their way loose and fell into her dark blue eyes. His already pink cheeks darkened as he realized he was staring and he quickly extended a hand. “I’m Quatre Rowden.”

“Juliana Morgan.” She placed her hand in his and their eyes met for a moment before she cast hers to the ground.

He smiled at the recognition of her last name, pleased that she didn’t seem to have the cool disposition of her brothers. “You must be Jame’s daughter! I always wanted to meet you. You must be the only person my age for fifteen miles!”

“Don’t ye have friends here?” She asked curiously.

“No. Only my sister Katy, the tutor, and the servants. Sometimes there’s a party, but even then there’s no one to talk too. Everyone is so formal.” His smile disappeared at the reminder of another one of the dreaded parties.

“Oh.” She said simply, looking away once more.

He looked away as well, racking his brain for a way to get her to talk to him some more. “I was going to go outside, would you like to come along?”

She nodded, but didn’t respond, and he led her to the stables in silence. He made his way to the back and walked over to his pet hawk. He put the protective glove on and let the bird climb onto his arm. “This is Sandrock.” He added, looking in her direction and noticing that she seemed to be keeping her distance from either him or the hawk. “He won’t hurt you.” He said gently, motioning for her to come closer.

She stepped up next to him hesitantly, staring at Sandrock. “Ye have a pet hawk?”

Quatre nodded, letting her run her hand over the bird’s soft feathers. “I’ve had him since he was little. He’s probably been feeling pretty neglected lately though.”

She cast her eyes to the ground shyly again. “I-I should go. People will probably start tae show up soon, and I donnae want tae trouble ye any longer.”

“No, please.” He placed a hand on her shoulder without thinking, biting his lip as he tried to think of a way to get her to stay. “Please don’t go. I could show you the library!”

“I’d like that, if ye donnae mind.” She responded, smiling.

He offered an arm and she accepted as he led her into the house and finally to the library where he spent much of his time. He smiled as her eyes widened in wonder. “It’s beautiful! There are so many books!”

“It’s my favorite place . . . and no one ever comes here.”

He heard a door shut and turned to see James standing there. “Juliana, I need your help with something. As for you Mr. Rowden, shouldn’t you be getting ready for the party?”

Quatre blushed guiltily. “Yes, I guess I should go. It was nice to meet you, Juliana.”

She curtsied and a smile lit up her face. “My pleasure.”

He nodded and left the room, trudging back to his own room to get dressed. He quickly slid on the stuffy suit Sir Morland insisted he wear, and fixed his hair. He took one last look at a clock before rushing out of his room, realizing that he was late. In his hurry to get to the party he slammed right into Julie… again.

“Ye look nice.” She complimented after they had exchanged apologies.

He blushed and stared at the floor intently. “Thank you.”

“… I should go.” She said after a tense silence.

He glanced up quickly. “Wait! … Um… can I talk to you again? I … I mean… I’d understand if you didn’t want to… but, would you visit again?”

She smiled sincerely and nodded. “I will that. Good bye, Quatre.”

His mood lifted slightly and he waved to her as she walked away. “Good bye, Juliana.”

He watched her until she turned out of his view and then continued into the ballroom where music was already playing. He sighed, preparing to be suffocated, and took a deep breath before finally walking into the room full of people. Sir Morland was across the room, his hawk-like gaze focused intently on Quatre, probably angry that he was late. Quatre quickly looked away, only to notice Holly Bradfield making her way over to him. Her ridiculously long pale blonde hair and light blue eyes, along with her lively personality attracted many of the other men to her; but she seemed to have set her sights on Quatre. Her family’s fortune and social standing and her seemingly proper English manners were enough to win Sir Morland’s approval. This presented quite a problem for Quatre since he thought she was snobby and he had also decided long ago that her sweet attitude was so obviously fake it was insulting. He sighed when he noticed she was no more than ten feet away, and tried his best not to squirm when she stopped less than arm’s length from him and very much in his personal space.

Inevitably, she spoke, “Hello, Quatre.”

“Hello, Miss Bradfield.” He replied, managing a polite smile.

She leaned in closer to him, entirely too close for comfort. “There’s going to be a waltz next. You haven’t promised any other girl you’ll dance with them, have you?”

He quickly scanned the room, hoping his sister would come rescue him as she sometimes did at these insufferable dances, but Katy was dealing with a problem of her own. “Well, no, I haven’t.” He finally responded. He was tempted to take a step away from the girl, but he was still very aware of the fact that Sir Morland was keeping a sharp eye on him. After stalling a little more he finally accepted his fate. “Would you care to dance the waltz with me?”

“I’d be delighted.” She responded, and no sooner had she accepted than the music changed and Quatre had no other choice than to offer his hand and dance with the girl.

And so the evening started for Quatre… and it continued much the same way. Later, when the guests had left and he no longer had Sir Morland watching his every move, Quatre sat and talked to Katy. “Well, I know I successfully scared off the latest buffoon. How did your evening go and why were you late for the dance?”

He smiled at the memory of the afternoon’s events. “I met James’ daughter, Juliana.”

Katy raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh really? Do tell me what happened.”

“Well, not much. I ran into her outside of the music room and we talked for quite a while. So I got a late start at getting ready for the party and on my way down to the ballroom I ran into her again.” He quickly looked away. “Nothing much was said then.”

Katy grinned at him. “So what do you think of her? Do you like her?”

He blushed, but smiled slightly. His sister could almost read his thoughts. “Well, I didn’t talk to her very much . . . but she seems nice.” He hesitated for a moment before going on and his cheeks turned dark red. “She’s pretty too . . . and honestly, I think her Irish accent is . . . well . . . “

“Charming? Or maybe cute.” Katy offered. Quatre didn’t respond but nodded as his face darkened even more. She smiled in amusement. “Do you think she’ll be back here again?”

He scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Yes. She told me she’d visit again.”

Katy gave a short laugh and winked at Quatre. “Well, Kit, I hope you two become good . . . friends. She seems like a sweet girl, with any luck that won’t change. So, how about the party? Disappointed it’s over?”

He blushed once again, but quickly answered, glad for the change of subject. “I’m glad they’re gone.” He confessed with a sigh of relief.

She grinned knowingly. “Oh really? I noticed you seemed to dance quite a few dances with that Bradfield girl. If I’m not mistaken, I believe I even saw you go outside with her. What went on out there?”

“Nothing.” He responded quickly, his face still red.

Katy raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re blushing, Kit. Why?”

He squirmed slightly, his cheeks only darkening more. “Nothing happened. I don’t even like Holly and you know me better than that anyway. It’s just . . . “ He paused for a moment and cast his eyes away. “Well, she’s much bolder when there aren’t others around.”

Katy laughed, but hugged him. “Oh, my poor little brother. You’re too nice, you know. You let her trap you into dancing with her and then into going outside in the garden.” She ruffled his hair slightly and winked at him. “I’ll have to teach you some of my tricks so you can scare her away.”

“It would be rude to purposefully scare someone away.” He commented reluctantly, almost tempted to do just that.

She smiled fondly. “I’ll change your mind, but not tonight. It’s late. Now off to bed, Kit. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Katy.” He smiled at her once more and then turned and made his way back to his room to go to sleep for the night.

July 18, 1902

Quatre crept out of the house quietly, making his way to the stables. The yellow light of twilight angled in the windows, giving the dreary room a more cheerful look as dust particles sparkled and danced in the sunbeams. He heard a horse snigger and stamp a hoof. “Shh, Boreas. It’s just me.” He whispered, walking to the back of the stables and holding out a sugar cube to the dappled gray mare, which carefully accepted the treat from his hand. Quatre smiled slightly and ran a hand over Boreas’ sleek white mane. “How about going for a ride?” He asked as he produced the riding equipment and went about saddling her. After doing a once over to make sure everything was correct he led her out of the stables and around the house carefully before finally mounting and starting her off at a slow canter. He patted her neck affectionately. Boreas gave a soft neigh in response and Quatre turned his attention to the beautiful countryside. The hills were green at this time of year, accentuated by the old stone fences that stretched along the lanes. It was the evenings like this one, when a light fog began to form with the sinking of the sun, that the scenery of Ireland seemed to have a surreal quality about it. To Quatre, practically everything about Ireland was eerie, though beautiful.

He smiled as he saw Julie walking up the lane and prodded Boreas to travel faster. True to her word, she had visited him a few times and the two had become good friends. “Juliana!” He called as he got closer. She spun around and a smile lit up her face as he brought Boreas to a stop next to her. “Hello.”

Quatre was breathless for a second before finally patting Boreas’ neck and speaking to her. “Where were you going?”

She turned slightly as she pointed towards a hill. “Tae the ruins at Ballyhara, then maybe tae Tara.”

“Really?” He questioned, smiling in return. He had been fascinated by the ruins of Ballyhara since the first day he saw them, but Sir Morland had never given him permission to go. “I’ve always wanted to go there and get a closer look, but my step father wouldn’t let me. I could give you a ride…. If you don’t mind the company.”

She bit her lip hesitantly, but finally grinned as he offered her a hand. “Not a’tall. I’d love tae have ye tae talk to.” She placed her hand in his and climbed onto Boreas behind him. “Do ye know the story behind Ballyhara?”

“No, I don’t think I know any of the stories about this place.” He responded.

“Well, it’s no’ the cheeriest story, mind you, but ‘tis an’ interestin’ one.” Julie started as they rode closer to Ballyhara. “They say the town’s cursed. A young lord felt sorry for the people o’ the town an’ offered tae buy ‘em passage tae America, only the boats were made o’ rotten wood and the ship went down in a storm. The lord was found hanged in the tower. Tae set an example the soldiers killed men from the town.”

Quatre shuddered slightly as she finished the story and they rode up to the ruins. He hopped off of Boreas and helped Julie down as well, then turned to look at the decrepit architecture. Age and neglect had broken them down considerably over the years, but the small town had obviously been quite a sight when it was first built. “These buildings must have been beautiful at one time.”

Julie nodded as her eyes wandered around the town. “Aye, it was a grand place before it went tae ruin, or so they say.”

“I always thought so when I saw it from far away, but now I can see for myself. Sir Morland wouldn’t be happy with me though.” Quatre added softly.

Julie looked at him, a questioning look crossing her features. “Your father?”

“Step father.” He replied shortly, irritated that she would call the man his father. He quickly caught the slip and smiled, taking the conversation in a more humorous direction. “He says my sister is getting to be an old maid at 20. She has a talent for scaring off unwanted men, and she says she’ll teach it to me.”

Julie raised an eyebrow at him. “Teach ye tae scare away unwanted men? Why would ye need tae know that? Are ye overly protective of the girl?”

Quatre’s face turned a light shade of pink at her question. “N-no. I mean girls. There have been a lot of parties lately to find matches for Katy and I. We don’t like the idea, or some of the candidates they’ve chosen.”

Julie smiled that smile that only girls seem to be able to pull off. “Oh really? Like who?”

He sighed, not amused with the idea or the fact that she was smiling. “For me they’re absolutely set on Holly Bradfield.”

She appeared surprised for a moment. “Holly Bradfield? The girl with the long blonde hair, blue eyes, tall, an’ slender?”

He nodded, inwardly grimacing at the mental image that came to mind. “That’s the one. Do you know her?”

She turned her head away so that he could no longer see the expression on her face, but he could still hear the sadness in her voice. “I donnae know ‘er myself, but I’ve seen ‘er. She’s very pretty.”

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye but carefully guarded his expression. “Yeah.” He replied quietly, not bothering to tell her his real opinion of the girl.

“There’s the tower!” She said eagerly, pointing to the tallest building.

He stared up at it, noticing that the only way in seemed to be a rope hanging from the entrance near the top. “Is that rope the only way up?” He asked curiously, wondering why anyone would choose such an inconvenient entrance to a building.

“Aye, I think so.” She responded, and continued to talk, but his attention was drawn to the sound of a rough Irish voice in the distance.

“Did you hear that?” Quatre asked when she looked at him.

She stopped to listen to the voices and then pointed to the rope. “Quickly, go up there.”

He complied and quickly scurried up the rope and climbing into the entrance, then turning to help her in as well. They peered out the window carefully as two men walked by. “Do you know them?” Quatre asked after they had passed by, hoping they wouldn’t look back and see Boreas from their position.

She nodded slightly, a hint of fear showing in her eyes. “I know the one.” She pointed to the scruffier looking one. “I donnae like him.”

His gaze drifted up to the horizon where he could see smoke rising from behind a hill. He grabbed her arm and pointed. “Look!”

“That’s-“ She stopped herself from finishing, but he knew very well where the smoke had to be coming from. “Let’s go back.” She added, but he was already climbing down the rope.

He jumped to the ground once he was close enough and ran over to Boreas, grabbing the reigns and mounting the horse. He turned, waiting for Julie, but she held back. “Ye should go alone, I can run for help.”

His shook his head, immediately dismissing the idea, and held out a hand. “It’s getting dark, we’d best stay together.”

She quickly climbed astride the horse behind him and he dug his heels into Boreas’ sides in his haste to get back to his home. The mare showed her disapproval in a half rear, but quickly took off for home. He barely noticed the fact that Julie had her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, hanging on for dear life. When they cleared the top of the last hill they could see the large house engulfed in flames. His breath caught in his throat and he rode as close to the fire as Boreas would go before jumping off of the horse and running for the building. He was stopped abruptly when Julie ran after him and pulled him towards her. “Don’t move.” She whispered urgently.

He froze obediently and looked in the direction she was staring where there was the silhouette of a man sitting astride his horse. The mysterious stranger was hidden from their view by the shadows, but both continued to watch him in tense silence until he urged his horse into motion. Julie sighed in relief and looked away just as the moonlight fell on the figure and Quatre saw long, blonde hair streaming behind the man. He unconsciously started to shake as recognition dawned on him, it was Rory Morgan, Julie’s brother. He felt her arms slide around him, offering him what little comfort she could. “Are ye all right?”

He nodded weakly, still very much in shock, and turned his gaze to the flames. He watched the building burn, hoping that someone would walk out, until his eyes stung. Reality finally sunk in and he looked down as tears built in his eyes. “What will I do?”

“Ye can no’ stay here. They’ll be sure tae find ye if ye do.” She responded gently, keeping one arm around him.

A few tears fell down his cheeks as he looked up at her again. He was putting her in danger by staying with her now. “What about you? As long as you’re with me, you’re in danger as well.”

She squeezed his hand. “It doesnae matter. Ye have other family, don’t ye? That’s where ye could go.”

He cast his eyes to the ground dismally and shook his head. “Sir Morland’s family, only. My family is back in America, and I can’t be sure where they are in America.” The thought stuck in his head and he looked up at her, his eyes filling with hope. “I could go home to America!”

She looked away quickly, doubt crossing her face for a moment before she turned towards him again. “Quatre, ye cannae go alone. I’ll go with ye.”

He looked her in the eye sorrowfully. “Julie, I can’t ask you to go. You have family here.”

“Well, ye donnae have tae.” She replied stubbornly. “I insist. After all, I cannae have ye trampin’ off across the ocean all by yourself. My family can get along without me.”

He smiled at her, grateful for her friendship. “Thank you, Juliana.”

August 3, 1902

Quatre looked at the Statue of Liberty eagerly as the boat crept closer to New York City. “Well, will ya look at that.” Max commented from Quatre’s left, casually resting his arms against the railing. “It’s good to be back in this place!”

Julie stared at the city for several moments before commenting. “It’ll take some gettin’ used tae after livin’ in the country all o’ my life.”

Max scoffed at her. “Nah, you’ll love it here. The air isn’t so sickeningly clean, the people are rude and pushy, and there’s actually some excitement here!” She sent him a doubtful look and he winked, joking with her as usual. “Don’t worry, it’s not so bad. How about you, Quatre? How long has it been since you’ve seen the good old U.S.A.?”

“I was seven when I left.” He replied, his eyes wandering to Julie’s face as she stared at the city in wonder.

Max grinned at him knowingly, but after that all three remained relatively silent until after they had made it through immigration. Julie fixed herself between the two boys to avoid too much contact with the many people around. “Now what do we do?” She asked nervously.

Quatre looked at Max, unsure of the answer. Max seemed to be at war with himself for a moment and finally pointed to a boy selling papers. “That!”

Julie and Quatre exchanged confused stares. Max went over to talk to the newsboy, but soon the other two walked over to join the conversation. The boy eyed the two of them as they approached, but seemed to be answering a question. “Well, I hear dere’s open bunks in da Shadow Street lodgin’ house.” The newsie gave directions and Max nodded, thanking him and walking away with Julie and Quatre.

“I could barely understand the boy through that accent.” Julie commented.

Max grinned at her. “Ya might as well get used to it, that’s how almost everyone here talks.”

“Do you know where we’re going?” Quatre asked, butting into the conversation.

“Sure, I do!” Max replied cheerfully. “The Shadow Street lodging house, we’re going to be newsies.”

He confidently led them through the streets of New York City, refusing to stop for directions. Finally, Quatre asked a passing stranger where they could find the Shadow Street Lodging House and the three managed to make their way there by twilight. Quatre walked up the stairs to the door and uncertainly lifted his fist, knocking just loudly enough for those inside to hear. Max grinned and after a slight hesitation walked next to Quatre, laughing. “Doors work like this.” He commented, turning the handle and pushing the door open, walking inside. “Hello!”

Quatre turned to Julie, a concerned look on his face, but she shrugged and the two followed Max in. A thin woman in her early 30s stood inside, her dark hair put up in a messy bun and dirt on her face. Beside her was a waiflike girl around their age with dark brown hair pulled into a loose pony tail. Both appeared to be cleaning. Across the room was a girl with long black hair reading a magazine. All three had stopped what they were doing to stare at the small group that had walked in.

“Who da heck’re you?” The girl with the pony tail asked, staring at Max.

Max, in turn, grinned charmingly. “I’m Max, Max Wellington. And who might you be?”

The girl, not impressed, replied simply, “I’m Fool. Whatta ya want?”

Quatre brought a hand to his mouth, trying to cover a laugh at the insulted look that crossed Max’s features after Fool’s blunt response. Julie was the one to respond since Max seemed to be shocked into silence. “We heard ye had some open bunks for newsies?”

Fool walked over to a desk and picked up some papers. She handed papers to Quatre and Julie, and threw one to Max. “Applications.” She added simply.

Julie and Quatre quietly filled theirs out. Max filled his out, commenting every now and then, and then snatched Quatre’s paper away and laughed as he read it. “Sandrock? You gotta be kidding.”

Julie rolled her eyes and grabbed the other two papers, handing the three applications to Fool. “There ye go.”

Fool looked the papers over before handing them to the older woman who nodded. Fool looked back at Max, or “Duo” as he had written on his application, disgusted. “Fine.”

“Duo” grinned. “Oh, you know you love me.”

She turned to glare at him. “Careful. I’m da leada’ heya an’ if ya piss me off, your on da streets.”

“Oh, feisty.” Duo responded jokingly.

“Sandrock” elbowed Duo slightly, then smiled apologetically at Fool. “He doesn’t mean to insult you, he just never stops joking around.”

“That’s all right. If ya woulda caught me on any other day, I probably woulda been joking around too.” She led the boys to their bunks in the guys bunkroom where they set their stuff down, then showed “Trini” her bunk in the girls bunkroom. Duo elbowed Sandrock and jokingly remarked. “Remember which one is hers, wouldn’t want to scare some other unsuspecting girl.”

Sandrock and Trini both turned dark red and Trini threw Duo a glare. “Whist.”

Much to Trini and Sandrock’s relief, Fool didn’t comment, but showed them around the rest of the lodging house, and introduced them to the rest of the members: Fool’s younger brother Threat, Sabotage, Roach, Superstition, Puzzle, Lost Cause, and finally Inca Dove. Duo smiled charmingly at Inca Dove and winked, “Heya.” She did nothing but turn away shyly.

Duo put a hand over his heart, feigning pain. “Ouch. What is it with the girls here? They all hate me. I’m hurt!”

“You’re lucky she didn’t run outta da room.” Fool remarked. “She’s really shy.”

“Shy?” Duo asked, slightly confused.

Trini rolled her eyes. “Of course you wouldn’t understand the meaning of the word, you never shut up.”

Duo frowned and slowly walked up to Inca Dove, quietly sitting across from her, keeping his distance. “Hi. If I promise to try and act like a normal human being and not scare you, will you promise to not run away and damage my fragile ego?”

Sandrock glanced around the room at his new friends as Duo’s conversation with Inca slowly progressed. Once again he found himself wondering about his life in new surroundings, with new people. Trini smiled at him and quickly squeezed his hand. There was no way of knowing what life at Shadow Street would be like after this first day, but it was a start.