When she came back to herself, Ava was sitting on the floor. Zan, Vilandra, and Rath knelt at her side, concern etched across their youthful-yet-ancient faces.

After glancing at the still form of the man whose death had nearly taken her life as well, Ava looked questioningly toward Zan.

He shook his head sadly, then spoke in the Old High Tongue. "I feel that I should be able to, but I can't heal him. “

"I hope his death was not in vain," she replied.

Rath scowled. "This world is probably filled with death. Best to get used to it now. “

"What were you able to learn?" Zan asked Ava, ignoring Rath's harshness.

Willing her chin not to tremble, Ava took Zan's and Vilandra's hands. Vilandra and Zan also clasped hands with Rath, completing the circle. "I think I've absorbed at least one of the main local languages. Let me pass it along to all of you." Ava reached out with her mind. She felt a charge of indescribable energy coursing away from her body, through her friends, and back again.

Zan nodded, and the foursome released one another's hands. When he spoke after a long pause, it was in the tongue Ava had heard the two dead men speak. "I think we all know this place now… this New York City… as well as any of the locals do. “

Only then did Ava notice that all four of them were now wearing clothing similar to that of the leather-clad man whom Rath had killed. She glanced inquisitively at Rath, who still wore the slain man's garments. He shrugged and looked embarrassed.

Also in this world's native tongue, Vilandra said, "Before you woke up, Rath transmuted that nasty tarp you were wearing into something a little more appropriate for us all… or at least he tried to. “

Zan examined his own leather-and-denim ensemble, which Ava thought made him look both dangerous and vaguely ridiculous. He seemed to have forgiven Rath for his earlier indiscretion. "I'm not sure how well we're going to fit in here, dressed like this. “

"Give me a break," Rath said. "A minute ago, I didn't even know I had that power. You were expecting Madison Avenue on my very first try?" Ava was impressed at how quickly Rath had picked up some of the local idioms.

Ava suddenly remembered an image she had seen in the knifed man's dying mind. Panic surged within her. "Other people are going to be coming here soon. Cowork-ers. Customers. We have to get out of this place. Now. “

Zan pointed to the wreckage on the floor. "We can't just leave the pods lying here. Someone might trace them to us. “

"So?" Vilandra asked.

"There is too much we don't yet understand about this world, sister. We should take no unnecessary risks. “

"We'll just take the pods along with us," Ava said, knowing how lame that sounded, Zan's approval notwithstanding. After all, the pods were large and heavy, at least in comparison with four small, relatively weak bodies.

Rath threw up his hands and glared at Ava. "Fine. Where do you propose we drag the pods off to? We can't exactly check into the Waldorf. “

Ava suddenly felt more of the dead man's memories stirring and moving within the depths of her mind. All at once, they came into sharper focus. Turning to Zan, she said, "There's a big storm drain in the back parking lot. It leads down into the sewers. We could drag the pods down there and keep them out of sight. “

Vilandra looked horrified. "The sewers. “

"It's better than having more of those taking an interest in us," Ava said, pointing at the dead knife-man. "If we leave the pods here, that's almost sure to happen. “

Rath smiled savagely. Raising a glowing fist, he said, "Bring 'em on. “

"The sewers?" Vilandra repeated. "You can't be serious. The freaking sewers? “

Zan began pushing one of the gestation pods toward the open door. Apparently satisfied that it was far lighter than it appeared, he turned back to face the group. "If others are coming, let's avoid confrontation," he said, to Ava's immense relief. "The sewers it is. “

Both Vilandra and Rath made sour faces, but didn't argue further.

"You the man, Zan," Rath said.

Ava found his unpleasant smirk uncomfortably similar to that of the predator he had slain. Bad enough they were encased in unfamiliar human bodies; were they susceptible to a transfer of personality traits as well? How else is this cursed world going to change us?

Mom and Dad-Just time to send you a quick e-mail before we get on the road again. Hope all is well with you. I hope business is good at the Crashdown. I figure you're probably doing okay, even *without* your two best waitresses and cook. Ha-ha!;) It's been so long since I've seen either of you. I miss you both. Someday, maybe it will be safe enough for us to come back for a visit, but right now I think it's still way too dangerous. I can't really talk about where we are or what we've been doing lately, since everyone is scared that the bad guys from the government will track us down somehow. Even though all my best friends are here, it's kind of lonely without my family and all the familiar Roswell landmarks. And I've started to realize-well, we all have-how impor- tant it was to be safe at home, and just how much Sheriff Valenti really was our guardian angel.

Speaking of that, please tell him "Hi" for us. Is he still going out with Maria's mom? She's dying to know, but since you guys can't e-mail us back, I guess we won't find out.

Max and I are doing well, though sometimes it's still hard to believe we're actually married. We don't get a lot of privacy or anything, since we're always traveling with the others. I know that Michael and Maria have talked about marriage too, but Michael's so noncommittal (he's gotten a lot more mature over the past few weeks, but Michael is still Michael), and Maria won't commit to someone so noncommittal, so there's not much progress there.;) I feel bad for Isabel, since she's away from Jesse. She and Kyle are the only two "single" members of our group, which doesn't leave Kyle with a lot of choices, and that also means that Isabel is moody a lot of the time. I know I'd be pretty cranky if Max and I were pulled apart the way Iz and Jesse have been.

Some of us look a little different now, to help us hide out from anyone chasing us. But I can't tell you what we look like, just in case anyone is reading this e-mail other than you. I'll just say that all the guys look as good as Brad Pitt now, and we girls look good enough to get modeling contracts. Ha-ha! And if anyone else *is* reading this e-mail leave us alone. Please. None of us have hurt anyone. We just want to live normal lives. Leave us alone.

So anyhow, like last time, I'm only using this e-mail address once, so you won't be able to respond to it, and the Men in Black won't be able to trace us. I know that sometime in the future we'll be able to talk again, and (I hope) even see each other soon, face to Pausing in her typing, Liz Parker looked up. She watched as Maria DeLuca, sitting one stool over from her in the cramped confines of the Cybernet Cafe, composed a hasty electronic note of her own. Liz let herself be hypnotized for a moment by the rhythmically blinking cursor. Then Maria broke the spell by hitting the "Send" button. Maria's e-mail immediately disappeared into cyberspace.

"You're all done?" Liz asked, unnecessarily.

Maria ran her hand through her newly wavy hair and leaned backward in her chair. "Looks that way. There's not much I can really tell Mom. I mean, what am I going to do… talk about encounters with yet another race of 'Czechoslovakians' and haunted mansions full of Skins?" She snorted. "I bet she's probably wearing a whole necklace-full of healing crystals to help with the headaches she must have started getting after our departure from Ros… " She abruptly caught herself, then glanced quickly around the room as though scanning for spies. "From the town, I mean," she finished a beat later.