Chapter Two

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  There was a thick haze in his mind when Rowan awoke, and he could neither see nor think straight. It seemed everything in the world was made out of fog, from the air to the sky to objects around him. Everything except for Rowan and the cold path he was laying on. It was paved with smooth, grey stone, which Rowan could feel as he slowly got himself up.

  He squinted to see through the mist, and only then did he see he was in a forest, with great trees adorned by long vines of dark emerald leaves. Here and there a few mushrooms sprouted from the path, and right in front of him, Rowan could see an old sandstone gate. On the other side was a canvas of light, just like there had been in the drawer Rowan leaped into.

  He took a moment to digest this. It seemed like he had just woken up into a dream, and yet Rowan could recall every moment of his day. He was at school, and Piper had told him the police were after him, so he jumped into his grandfather's drawer...

  So where was he?

  Rowan was certainly not in his grandfather's drawer, and he knew it to be scientifically impossible to jump into a cabinet and end up in a forest. But again, it was impossible for a drawer to contain nothing but light that swallowed you up if you jumped in it. Rowan did want to be home, but hopefully the police were gone. His head was spinning, and he felt the urge to lie down again. Rowan never got the chance, though, because suddenly there was a quiet, shy rustling. He turned around warily.

  "What are you doing here?" asked a voice, shivering and shy.

  Rowan tried to see through the fog, but couldn't. He knew that he shouldn't speak to strangers, but he couldn't help taking another step closer to the voice, and another step, until he could see the outline of a skinny girl, her limbs held so closely to her side, her long, wavy hair cascading down her shoulders. She was holding a stick, long and sharp, which she held to her side so naturally it seemed like an extra arm.

  "Who are you?" the voice asked again.

  "I'm Rowan," he replied cautiously. "Where am I? How do I get out of here?"

  The girl stepped out of the fog, and Rowan could see she had dark skin and glowing green eyes, and was wearing a shirt perhaps five sizes too big.

  "It depends on where you want to go," she said. "Where do you come from? An Aardian as cute as you might come from the Crystal Islands, I suppose."

  Rowan had the creepy feeling he should have shivered, but something about the way the girl spoke, how her voice was so much like a budding flower, so small and crisp and vulnerable, but so confident of its potential, made Rowan feel like he could trust her.

  "An Aardian? The Crystal Islands? What are you talking about?" He had so many questions.

  "You're an Aardian. Do you not know anything?" the girl remarked smartly. She pulled a map out of a tote bag hanging from her stick. "Look. Right here. The Crystal Islands."

  She was pointing to blobs of land on the butter-coloured paper, drawn by lines the shade of chocolate. Runes were written all over in scrawly writing, and in the centre of the map was a huge expanse of land, covered mostly by trees. The map was titled, "Auradelle and the Crystal Islands."

  Rowan sighed. "I give up on trying to understand you. Just tell me how to get back to America."

  It was the girl's turn to be confused. "America?"

  Rowan nodded. "America. You know, in North America. On Earth." He had a tone of slight scepticism, but he didn't care.

  "Earth...?"

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