Chapter 1 (NOTE: This scene was deleted from the final draft) A teenage boy hurried through the rotting gray woods, hands shoved in the pockets of his parka. A woman followed, picking her way around tree roots and mush puddles, steadying herself against boulders colored with pale green lichen. The ground was a mess of spongy decay after weeks of late autumn rain. They climbed over the remains of fallen trees and moss-covered roots, treading carefully on the slippery dead leaves.               The boy hoisted himself over a boulder with the help of a tough birch, then swung around to offer the woman a hand. She ignored his help. The boulder presented no difficulty for her.               "It's a bit further than I remember, I guess," said the boy. His voice sounded unnaturally loud and harsh in the lull of the drizzle. Rainfall this late in the season tended to muffle sounds.               The woman stepped across a knot of snake-like roots. A hood framed her face, making her pallid features stand out. She gazed into a distance beyond the boy, or though him.               The boy decided not to repeat himself, and hurried ahead. His breath misted gray in front of him. The ground dipped and swelled, but the two of them headed steadily uphill, following a line of boulders. These stones were the remnants of a Puritan-built wall. It wended its way between towering pines and vanished up the mountain. Centuries of frost, growing things, and scurrying paws had reduced the hard work of the settlers to a scattered heap.               The boy hesitated at the top of an outcropping of granite, wrapping his arms around himself. "You know what?" he said as the woman caught up to him. "I don't like being out here in the rain. It can be dangerous to be this far in the woods after dark. Why don't we--"               "You offered to guide me." She gripped his shoulder, paying no attention when he flinched. Her pale lips betrayed no expression. She stressed syllables as though English was not her first language. "I will pay you, as I said."               The boy pulled away. "Listen . . . lady . . . sorry. what's your name?"               No reply.               "I'm not really sure what I saw," said the boy, shifting uncomfortably. "I mean, I know I saw the mansion, but the giant . . . maybe it was a trick of perspective, or a play of light or something. I don't know. Why are you so interested in what I saw, anyway?"               The woman wiped moisture from her nose. A few wisps of blonde hair had escaped her hood, and they seemed to glow against the monochrome gray of late autumn.               "You really don't speak much." The boy tried to laugh, and managed a weak huffing sound. "Why do you need a guide, anyway? You seem to know the way well enough."               She gazed at him with glacial eyes. Her voice was as soft as the rain. "Does anyone else know how to get to the mansion that you saw?"               Shivering, the boy took a few steps back. Half-frozen raindrops pelted the plastic shell of his parka. "No. I don't think so. Why?"               The woman raised her fist palm up, as though she meant to unfurl her fingers and reveal a secret. Something white glinted in her gloved hand. Its shape suggested a tiny boomerang.               To the boy, the scent of evergreens seemed suddenly powerful. Their sad, drooping boughs were like arms, reaching on all sides to embrace him.               She breathed out, long and slow. The hiss of rain took the sound of her breath.               A silent explosion ripped through the boy. He was blown backwards against the piled stones. Blood as dark as autumn leaves painted the rocks behind him. Splatters of it reached the nearest tree trunks. Blood pooled under him and mixed with the decomposing leaves and filth that had accumulated in a drift against the wall. The earth drank what drained from him.               As the boy lay gasping on the ground, struggling to breathe, her hooded face loomed as bright as a noontime sun amid the towering spires of evergreens. She pointed her oval-shaped weapon at his head. Her lips parted. Another long exhalation came from her, swirling gray mist tattered by the drizzle. A chill breeze sighed through the pines. They rippled, reaching.               Her long breath ended, and the boy exhaled for the last time through the ruin that had been his head.

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