Brock gave one last toss and woke in a start, breathing hard, brow glistening with sweat. He sat, trying to catch his breath. Looking up at the sky, he saw the moon had grown even larger than it had been hours ago. "What's going on?" he murmured more to himself than to anyone.
        He wiped his forehead dry with a shaking hand, trying hard to catch his breath.
        'Yoo-hoo.... Brock...'
        The boy froze.
        He heard nothing but the faint sound of crickets chirping.
        A slight breeze stirred through the trees.
        'Brock!'
        "Y-yes?"
        There was a quiet pause. Brock held his breath.
        'What's the matter, Brock-o?'
        It was so absurd, he almost laughed. 'Maybe I'm going crazy,' he thought, amused.
        'No more crazy than the rest of us,' the voice responded, tinted with humor.
        "Ah-ha. A disembodied voice is talking to me." The boy took a deep, steadying breath, closed his eyes, and tried to keep from fainting.
        'Brock, quit it, now is not the time!' Now the voice was serious and urgent. 'I know you tend to stick with the hard, cold facts, that you aren't the superstitious type, that this kind of stuff is beyond you, but you have to believe what I'm telling you. Please.'
        Brock swallowed hard. Maybe it was all a dream, he reasoned, and besides, the voice seemed somewhat comforting.
        'History is being made, Brock. You have to understand how important this is.'
        "I'll listen."
        The voice made a little satisfied sound. 'There's not much to say. Follow your instincts.'
        "What?"
        'I can talk later. But you need to find me first.'
        "Find you?"
        'It's not that tricky a situation, Brock-o. Use your noodle. Put on your thinking cap. Kick your brain into gear. You getting me here?'
        "Noodle?" Brock repeated pitifully.
        The voice heaved an incredibly weary sigh. 'Brock, you're a handful. I've gotta say, sometimes I pity myself.'
        Brock blinked. "Wha-wha?"
        'Criminy.' The voice paused. 'Criminy. I can't explain now, Brock, I can't until you correct the mistake that shouldn't have been made. I should have thought she'd be more careful about that...' The voice trailed off.
        Brock shook his head. "Who'd be more careful?"
        'I keep getting off subject. Look, Brock, I'm not allowed to say anymore. I've been bending the rules as it is.'
        "Don't go," Brock blurted without thinking.
        There was a brief silence. Then the voice said warmly, 'Aw, not to worry. I'll still be here. You've just got to look for me.'
        "Look for you?"
        Silence.
        The boy took a shuddering breath. Something was going on. Something terrifying. Something incredible.
        Something magical.
        The blood in his veins seemed to burn. Looking up at the moon, hanging silver and heavy in the velvet sky, a shiver went up and down his spine. He clenched his hands into fists to stop them from shaking.
        Burying his head in his pillow, he was suddenly aware of a coldness emanating from somewhere near. He groped around and felt purchase: a chilled piece of polished stone.
        At his touch, the amulet blazed a blindingly bright blue, and at the same time, sent a freezing jolt through the boy's body.
        Brock gasped and dropped the stone. Gulping for breath, he lay there for what felt like a lifetime. "What's going on?" he gasped to no one in particular, though perhaps somewhere deep inside of him, he was hoping the voice would pipe up with an answer.
        He could hear nothing. The silence pressed down on him like an iron weight.
        He had dropped the stone on his pillow. He watched it warily, but its glow was slowly fading away, and, holding his hand directly over it, he could only feel a slight nip of cool air.
        A sudden movement to his left made him whirl around. Ash was shivering uncontrollably in his sleep, arms wrapped around his skinny frame, and teeth gritted.
        Brock's eyes softened. Ash was his best friend; and Brock had been such a jerk that afternoon. 'And if Ash is going through what I'm going through right now.' The thought made them that much closer. Brock reached over to awaken his friend, to free him from whatever dreams he was experiencing, to tell him they could face it together.
        A brilliant flash of green burst from the dull green stone that sat on the child's pillow.
        Brock stared in wonder. He hadn't winced, he hadn't cringed. The green hadn't scared or shocked him the way the blue amulet had. The green seemed almost in a way friendly. caring. Welcoming.
        He didn't know what made him do it, but it felt right, like a long-forgotten instinct suddenly answered. Brock's hand inched forward, toward the green stone, which continued to shine merrily. Fingers trembling oh-so-slightly, he closed his hand around the amulet.
        The stone almost exploded in a blast of beautiful green light.
        Brock clasped the amulet to his chest, a sense of calmness descending gently on his harried nerves. His mind seemed to fill with the brilliance of the light.
        'I knew you could do it, Brock.' The voice was back, and it was louder, stronger, warmer. It seemed to vibrate through his body. He closed his eyes in happiness.
        'But you've still more to do, Brock.'
        The boy frowned slightly, then suddenly realized his friend was still shaking with cold and fear. Once again, the answer came to Brock as if he had known it all his life. Scooping up the blue amulet, trusting the green that flowed through his body to nullify the cold, he placed it gently next to Ash's pillow. The young boy relaxed almost immediately.
        Heaving a contented sigh, Brock lay back down, clasping his hands behind his head. Staring up at the stars and the huge, silver moon, he smiled. Happiness seemed to surge through him.
        'Your life will never be the same again, Brock,' the voice said quietly, out of the blue. 'You understand that, don't you?'
        The boy closed his eyes and breathed evenly. Then, holding the glowing amulet close to his heart, he turned his face once again to the incredible night sky. "Understand it?" he grinned happily. "I'm depending on it."
        'Go to sleep now, Brock,' the voice ordered gently, though it failed to contain its joyousness. 'There will be time in the morning.'
        Brock suddenly felt so tired, it was almost numbening. "In the... morning..." he repeated sluggishly, his voice thick with exhaustion.
        The amulet flashed a reassuring green. 'Good night, Brock.'
        Brock managed one last smile before he drifted into a calm, quiet, soft green dream.