Mayor Warren stood there in front of the Garcia's unsure of what to say. Their girl, Spirit, had been missing for the last six hours, and it was after a dare to go up to Someplace Else. That was very troubling. Maestro was a problem before, but not once did Warren think he'd ever go as far as kidnaping an innocent girl. At least not after how quiet everything had been in the last six years.

Warren felt a chill run down his spine, remembering the scream he heard years ago. The tortured, bloodcurdling, sorrowful scream from a child. After hearing that the then mayor, Winston, his elder by twenty-five years, made sure all the minors in town were accounted for. No one was missing, meaning whoever that scream came from was Orpheus' child. It made Warren's blood boil to think that, that bastard Maestro had so much as laid a finger on his friend's kid. And it got worse, seeing that Spirit was missing.

He put a hand to his mouth, unsure of what to do. He didn't want this happening again. For all he knew Orpheus' child could be dead now, and he would stay up until the middle of the night hoping and praying that he wasn't dead. That the child was still alive somehow.

He didn't want to go through that again. He would have to go up there and come face-to-face with the devil himself. He was more than willing to do that but the question was how. Winston had gone up there once. Even though he ended up getting chased out by those ghosts, he had to ask him if anything could be done, or at least get a few pointers.

He ran his fingers through his thick brown, grey-streaking hair as he sighed. He looked at the Garcia's with strong, grey eyes, putting his hands to his sides. He stood tall, fearless, and hardy. The younger mayor wasn't going to make the same mistake.

There was a kid, an innocent girl, that needed to be saved from that monster, and maybe even a remnant of his friend. He needed to save them. With clenched fists, and sturdy eyes he said, "We're going up there ASAP."

Naomi looked at the hill through her window, and smiled weakly. "Maestro wouldn't do that." she said to herself, still gazing at the mansion. She had just gotten news that the townspeople were going up to Someplace Else again. She thought about him, and his smile. He couldn't hurt a soul.

It was about fives years since she last saw him, when she was about thirteen. He was so child-like in his manner. When she first heard his voice, that meek, soft voice, it was like hearing a seven year old. She still remembered him hiding behind a pillar, looking at her, he seemed so scared.

He didn't budge, even when she called him out, and she ended up pulling him out from behind it. The way he kicked and screamed, begging her to let him go, it was all so strange, but never really frightening.

When he finally calmed down, he sat down on the floor Indian-style, looking like a little boy who had gotten in trouble with a parent. Naomi was standing up, arms crossed, towering over him, and Maestro kept his eyes to the ground, hiding his face.

"Would you mind telling me your name?" She asked. Maestro just stiffened, and stayed quiet. He mumbled something under his breath that she couldn't make out. "Come again?" Naomi asked. He still mumbled, a little more defiantly this time. He was acting like a child, and that was going to make things much harder. "Don't mumble." Naomi said, a little harsher.

"Fine! My name's Maestro! Now get outta' here!" He yelled looking up, and pointing to the door.

He didn't have to be so ill-tempered about it, but seeing how Naomi pulled him out from behind the pillar, she couldn't really argue. The Maestro's face was flush as he kept pointing toward the door. He stiffened, then relaxed some, and his features softened. He sighed. "Besides, I-I don't want you getting hurt." He said, a little shaky.

There was just no way he could have kidnaped Spirit. He was too kind. And after going up there dozens of times, even though Maestro rather resented it, he never hurt her. Not once.

Be safe, Maestro. . .

Back at Someplace Else. . .

Michael still looked wearily at the owls clustering at the top of the walls. Both Michael and Spirit clung to each other, wanting to keep one another safe in their arms. As Michael held her, he felt her aura, and, just for a split second, he peeked into her soul using, not the powers Daemon had given him, but rather the pure abilities given to him at birth.

It was something that had always been with him. With one touch, he could see a person's entire life story, past, present, and even future, within an instant. He didn't abuse it often, but he was curious. He had just met her a few hours ago, and there was so much he wanted to know.

They were simple questions to things that he had been deprived of. Like, 'what does the air feel like when you go outside on a sunny day?' and, 'what is it like having friends and going to school everyday?' Those things were all he wanted to know. He didn't look in detail. He didn't peer into her private life. Whenever he had done that before, he always suddenly felt like he had been thrown into the mud and hadn't been washed off in months. It felt wrong, and he always found himself with an extremely guilty conscience afterward. She would tell him things in time, and Michael was very patient.

With that one peeked he smiled in spite of all the pain he had been through, and all the wonderful things he had been neglected of. He had his answers, and now had something fantastic to look forward to. He laughed slightly, seeing how sappy some of his questions had been.

His peace was shattered by the loud screech of, not just one, but dozens of the owls up above. Michael stiffened as he stopped dead in his tracks.