them. The multitude of sounds nearly overwhelmed me. It was like an entire symphony, only the instruments were birds and insects. I could imagine sitting down with my cello to join in, losing myself in the soothing melodies.
I could have stayed in that one spot forever, but I continued through the garden and out into an open field. Although the trees and flowers didn’t extend that far, the low grass on the field was almost neon green, and the sky in the clearing was just as blue.
A flock of birds colored with hues as bright as the flowers flew overhead. The colors were unbelievable, an artist’s dream. The birds veered and flew toward me. It took me a moment to realize they were actually flying away from a much larger bird that was equally colorful. The larger bird had long, sharp talons and, in the back of my mind, I wondered if I should be afraid, but I seemed to know instinctively that the bird wouldn’t hurt me.
Suddenly, an arrow shot through the sky, hitting the large bird. It fell to the ground, and I felt a simultaneous stab of pain. I ran to the bird with tears welling in my eyes. Without thinking, I pulled the arrow out of its side and stroked one of the bird’s beautiful wings. There was a sudden burst of heat, and then the bird rose and flew away. It looked back once as if to study me before it disappeared past the horizon.
I looked around. Someone had to have shot the arrow, but from where? I heard the crunch of dirt and twigs behind me. Startled, I stood quickly and turned around. I came face to face with a guy who appeared to be a few years older than me. My eyes locked with his deep green ones, and I was transfixed. I felt a tightening in my chest and became dizzy.
“Hello, Miss,” he said. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, but why… why did you shoot that beautiful bird?” I was still unable to tear my gaze from his beautiful eyes. I felt like I no longer had control of my senses; all I could do was stare.
“I was saving your life. That bird could have killed you.”
“Hardly, it was so beautiful.”
“Even beautiful things can be deadly.”
After a few moments, I finally broke the trance and looked at more than his eyes. I immediately realized just how handsome he was. He was tall, at least as tall as Kevin, with even broader shoulders and jet-black hair falling just below his ears. Maybe it was the stubble on his face, but there was something rugged about him. I could feel my heart racing; even our conversation didn’t make my feelings any less intense. It seemed like he was deliberating, taking small steps as he came closer, as though he was trying not to scare me.
“My name is Calvin.”
“I’m Charlotte.” I shook his offered hand.
He looked at me kindly. “You’re not from around here, are you, Charlotte?”
I was puzzled by his question. “I actually live right through that garden, on the other side of the gate.”
“Oh, your clothing looked foreign to me,” he said, gesturing. “I didn’t know there was anything through that gate.” I looked down at my jeans and sweater and then over at Calvin. I was startled when I realized that he was wearing clothing that appeared to be from a rustic Renaissance fair. He wore a white cotton shirt with black pants and black boots, but it was clearly not the type of clothing that anyone I knew wore.
“Where am I?” Between the colors, sounds, and birds, I already knew something was up, but Calvin’s comment about my clothes just reiterated how strange this place was.
“You’re just south of Rawlins,” he answered simply.
“Rawlins? I’ve never heard of it.” The description did nothing to help me.
“You said that you live through the gate, what city lies there?” Calvin asked.
“Charleston.” After I said it, I realized that he might not know where that was.
“Charleston? Never heard of it.” He sounded disappointed. “Do you come here often? It is not frequent that one encounters a young woman out