Max Evans looked down at the little girl who had walked into the museum. She was only four foot five, at most, eight at the oldest. Her hair was the oddest shade of blue he'd ever seen, tinted with silver, it shimmered in the dark, and her eyes reflected light like those of a cat.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" he asked, crouching down to talk to her.

"Maxie, help me…" she whispered, tears touching her eyes.

"How do you know my name?" he asked softly.

"Maxie please!" she begged, wrapping her hand in his. "You have to see!"

"What are you talking about?"

"No time! No time! See now or be blinded by the light!" she cried, he held her hand tightly, her green eyes filled with fear, her tears changed from salted water to blood, running onto his hand, and the floor.

"Oh my god…" he whispered, staring at the girl in disbelief, "stop it," he murmured, "stop, please, oh god, stop!" Dark laughter filled the space; it had changed from the museum to somethingelse.

"MAXIE!" the child screamed, pushing him behind her. Her child's eyes glared up at the two darkly clad figures that advanced on the boy.

She stepped closer to them, holding her hand out in warning. "By the powers of the holy ones, past, present and future. By the vestiges of the ancients that reside in me. By the powers of the three, yet to come into their place, I command you, stop!" she cried out, and the men laughed.

"You are no messenger, divided within yourself, you cannot banish us. We are the chosen, sent to destroy the threat."

"NO!" she screamed, her hair blew out from her face and billowed in a non-existent wind. "They are my charges!" she said harshly, and Max was terrified that the child would get hurt. "I have never once lost one of my given charges, and I will not loose any to you, especially not one of these three!" she screamed, and a blinding light filled the room. The two figures faltered and fell back. The hoods of their cloaks fell back and Max saw two women looking at the girl, sad faces shedding tears.

"We do not take your charges, for we are you…" one said, she had long, flowing silver hair and deep green eyes.

"Why do you see us so? We are not the stars of darkness. We are who you are, divided for our cause. He stands behind walls of glass, throw no stones, or he will be blinded by the vision." The second said. Her hair was short, blonde, and wild around her face.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, and the child turned, her face serene.

"You know," she smiled, "you just don't know yet." She turned and ran to the other women, taking their hands.

"Don't worry," the girl smiled, turning her head to him, "I'll keep you safe," she turned solemn, words flowing, unbidden from her mouth. "I'll protect you with my very soul, if I have to." Max tried to call after them, but found himself back at the museum.

"What the hell?" he muttered, moving to the phone. He dialed the familiar number and waited for what seemed like an eternity.

"What?" a sharp voice snapped in the other end.